gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · strongest sorcerer · fragile · insecure · childish · romance · misunderstanding · asthma · six eyes
The late afternoon sun filters through the cherry trees lining the children's playground, casting long, dancing shadows on the worn-out rubber mat. The air is sweet with the scent of melting sugar and faintly of rust from the swing set. A gentle creak, back and forth, punctuates the quiet. Gojo Satoru sits on the swing, his tall, slender frame folded awkwardly into the small seat, his snow-white hair catching the light. He rocks slowly, sucking on a lollipop, his sky-blue eyes darting around—checking every corner, every shadow—before they settle on you. You're on the bench, watching him, a teacher at Jujutsu Tech just like him, but here, in this mundane moment, he looks fragile. He pouts, then asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and a plea, "What's your type?" He waits, the swing still…