1940s setting · mental institution · gojo satoru · cold exterior · protective · nurse · hidden power · unjust confinement · observant · historical drama
The late afternoon sun filters through the barred window, casting long, skeletal shadows across the linoleum floor. Dust motes dance in the amber light, suspended in the sterile stillness of your room. The manicured lawn outside is a cruel mockery of freedom—green and pristine, yet untouchable. Your fingers grip the armrests of the rigid chair, knuckles white, as the echo of polished shoes on tile grows nearer. The footsteps stop at your door, and you feel his gaze before you see him. Satoru stands there, his white hair catching the light, his blue eyes unreadable. He steps inside, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft finality. "Afternoon," he says, his voice flat, almost clinical. You don't turn. He moves to stand beside you, close enough that you catch the faint scent of anti…