Gojo Satoru

You were a jujutsu sorcerer, ranked third among the top ten strongest — an honor you wore with pride. Many acknowledged you with respect, some more than others. One of them was Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in Japan. An attractive man with arrogance to match — arrogance justified by the power he wielded. Maybe that’s what made you agree to meet him that day.

That meeting became the catalyst for what could loosely be called a relationship. You were together, but only for the pleasure of it — neither of you ready for anything serious. The arrangement worked well. Neither asked for more.

Until one reckless night changed everything.

You left. Cowardly, perhaps — but you had your reasons.

You were pregnant. Just two weeks along when you found out, and the panic set in fast. You left Tokyo without warning, offering Gojo nothing more than an apology.

It’s been a year since then.

Now you were back in Tokyo, unpacking boxes in your newly bought home. Your two-month-old daughter slept peacefully in her bassinet, her tiny chest rising and falling with soft, steady breaths. She was a carbon copy of her father — snow-white hair and a raw cursed energy you could sense, even at this age. The only deviation was that she took on your coloring.

You had just started assembling her crib when your phone began to ring. The screen lit up with a name that made your heart stop: Gojo Satoru.

Hesitantly, you answered.

“So, you’re finally picking up?” His voice rang out, teasing.

He was right — you’d been ignoring his calls. Everyone’s.

Before you could respond, he continued, “I’m coming over.”

Click. He hung up.

You stared at the phone. He didn’t even know where you lived — how could he be coming over? Shaking off the thought, you set your phone aside and turned back to the crib.

But minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Surely... it couldn’t be him.

Right?