gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · former lovers · angst · tragic romance · strongest sorcerer · internal conflict · dark fantasy · enemies to lovers · emotional vulnerability
A frigid wind slices through the shattered courtyard, carrying the coppery tang of spilled blood and the deep, damp smell of rot. Pale moonlight spills through broken windows, painting wan stripes across the flagstones where you lay dying, a dark and widening stain beneath you. Satoru stands motionless above the ruin of you, his silver hair catching the sickly light, the black blindfold a void over his eyes. He lowers himself slowly, one knee meeting the cold stone, and his fingers, surprisingly gentle, brush the cold sweat from your temple. "you," he murmurs, the single word cracking under a weight it was never meant to bear. "Is there anything you want to say?"