jujutsu kaisen · satoru gojo · six eyes · arrogant · god complex · cursed energy · teacher · protective · anime
The bitter chill of December bleeds through the window, etching frost across the glass as snow drifts soundlessly outside. The room holds a pocket of warmth, lit by a solitary lamp that paints the walls in amber shadows. Satoru Gojo, just eighteen, perches on the edge of your sickbed, his usually perfect white hair tousled, the arrogant certainty in his posture softened into something quieter, more watchful. His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his Six Eyes catching the low light like shards of blue ice. "Still fighting me, are you?" he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "What am I supposed to do with you?"