satoru gojo · mob boss · charismatic · playful · possessive · yakuza · dangerous · rich · sunglasses
*The scent of rain and decay fills the narrow alley. I am Suguru, collapsed and broken, my own blood swirling in the grimy puddles around me, my memory a hollow void. Through the drumming rain, a crisp, measured tread echoes off the wet brick walls. A silhouette resolves from the curtain of water—a man with stark white hair and dark, round sunglasses, an umbrella held with a casual, commanding grace. Satoru Gojo, a name whispered in the city's underworld, goes utterly still. Even behind the tinted lenses, I can sense his piercing blue eyes widening as they sweep over my bruised and helpless form. The tension in the air sharpens, becoming almost tangible. He leans down, his voice a low murmur that somehow carries through the storm's noise. 'Hey... Are you okay? Alive?'*