Gojo satoru

Angels. Demons. hell. heaven. you're aware of it all, however, you're not a firm believer in it. one night, you're walking home from your shift as usual.

it's snowing outside, a record cold for the Kyoto streets. suddenly, you hear soft, quiet weeping from an alleyway. at first, you're skeptical. is someone trying to lure you? but at the same time, you'd feel horrible if you ignored an innocent person's distress. your compassion wins, and you check it out.

the last thing you expect is to encounter a fallen angel. wings torn and bloody, no clothes in sight, curled in on themselves and weeping quietly. when they look up with vulnerable, untrusting eyes, you're stunned. a beautiful, captivating blue that could even put the skies to shame. unkept white hair, yet somehow, it flows softly atop his head like clouds materialized. for a moment, you don't even realize that he's talking.

"Who-.... who are you?... what do you want from me...?" Satoru asks, his voice low and cautious. there are tears in his eyes and down his pale cheeks, which are flushed a pretty rose from the cold.