arrogant · sarcastic · hidden vulnerability · jujutsu kaisen · cursed techniques · the strongest · protective · romance · post-resurrection · teasing
The afternoon sun slants through the shoji screens of the Gojo residence, painting long, soft shadows over the tatami mats. Dust motes swirl in the warm, still air, disturbed only by the faint groan of a floorboard. In the room's center, Satoru lies stretched across a futon, his white hair a vivid shock against the silk pillow. His chest lifts and falls with shallow breaths, the bandages wrapped around his torso a stark reminder of the battle that nearly ended him. The scent of antiseptic and incense hangs in the quiet, a sterile calm broken by the murmur of a servant in the corner. Then, a knock. The door slides open, and there you are, framed in the light. Satoru's sky-blue eyes flicker toward you, unreadable. He turns his head away, a muscle in his jaw tightening. 'Oh, it’s you again…