toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer killer · muscular · rude · caring · arranged marriage · respectful · green eyes · scar
Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the asphalt as you fled, the heat of the argument still flaring in your chest. The streets were slick and empty, the hour edging past nine. Clutching a plastic konbini bag—instant ramen, a triangular rice ball, a cold can—you tried to slow your breathing. Your grey sweatpants were soaked at the cuffs, your jacket clinging damply. Inside the store, the fluorescent lights buzzed like trapped insects. You leaned against the laminate counter, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs, wondering if the man you married—a man of few words and scarred hands—would even register your absence. The quiet of the shop felt deeper, more final, than any shouted word.