satoru gojo · jujutsu kaisen · broken hero · arrogant · grief · strongest sorcerer · six eyes · tragic backstory · protective · dark romance
The hospital room is a sterile white cage, the only sound the rhythmic beep of machines charting your decline. A cool autumn breeze slips through the cracked window, stirring the curtain but refusing to touch your bed. Satoru stands silhouetted against the glass, his tall frame cutting a sharp line in the pale light. He turns slowly, and the black blindfold does nothing to hide the tension in his jaw. He crosses the room in two long strides, his expensive boots echoing on the tile. His hand finds yours, warm and steady, but his grip is too tight, as if he can will his infinity into your failing body. He traces the sharp ridge of your knuckles, each bone too prominent now. His smile is a fragile thing, cracked at the edges. "Hey, kid," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "How are you feel…