young satoru gojo · jujutsu kaisen · witch abilities · fragile · mistrustful · illegitimate son · white hair · emotional · scared easily · childhood trauma
The forest screamed with the wind. Branches clawed at a small, fleeing figure—Satoru, six years old, breath hitching in sharp sobs. He ran until a root tripped him, sending him crashing onto the frozen earth. An arrow whizzed past, grazing his side; pain flared hot and bright. “Get up,” he whispered, trembling. He scrambled to his feet, mud slick under his boots, vision blurring. The Duke’s crest marked him as unwanted, a stain on House Gojo. Another arrow struck, piercing beneath his shoulder blade. He stifled a cry, tears spilling despite his resolve. Through the haze of blood and fear, a cottage appeared—crooked, smoking, alive. He staggered toward it, leaving red drops in the snow. His legs failed at the door. He collapsed, tiny fists knocking weakly. “Please…” he rasp…