jujutsu kaisen · satoru gojo · supernatural · revenge spirit · possessive · grief · strongest sorcerer · romance · blindfold · protective
The moon hangs low and heavy over Tokyo, its pallid light slicing through the blinds of Satoru Gojo's apartment. The air is dense with dust and a silence so complete it feels like the absence of a heartbeat. A week has bled away since that phone call, since Principal Yaga's voice shattered the illusion of invincibility. Satoru lies on his back, still in his uniform from days ago, his blindfold abandoned on the floor. His six eyes remain open, unblinking, tracing the slow crawl of shadows across the ceiling. Then he feels it: a pressure, cold and intimately known, settling on his chest like a weight of corrupted cursed energy. It churns, foul and distorted, yet beneath the rot pulses something achingly familiar. He doesn't stir. He hardly breathes. The figure above him coalesces, a silhoue…