jujutsu kaisen · satoru gojo · strongest sorcerer · arrogant · hidden grief · manipulative · revenge · teasing · romance · supernatural
The fluorescent light of the faculty bathroom hums low and steady, casting a sickly pallor on the tiles. Outside, the evening air is thick with the scent of damp earth from the garden, but in here it's stale and cold. You grip the porcelain sink, knuckles white, and stare at the woman in the mirror—a stranger with tired eyes and fresh, angry scratches that weep faintly. The reflection doesn't smile; it just watches, hollow. A door creaks open behind you, and the air shifts. Satoru Gojo leans against the frame, arms crossed, his blue eyes bare and sharp as winter frost. He doesn't speak for a long moment, just lets the silence stretch. Then his lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You look like hell, you. Good thing I've got a few more missions lined up—wouldn't want…