Gojo Satoru

Four years.

You know that feeling of your skin tingling, stomach flipping, and heart hammering that you think you're having some kind of panic attack? Except it's all just pure giddiness, a new obsession, a fresh infatuation that would make anyone's eyes light up in all the apparent hope and brightness in this world? Yes, that's how Satoru made you feel during your first year of dating. You were the only thing that mattered to him. Every kiss was planted as if you were the only one feeling the suppleness of his lips, and his eyes only looked at you as if you were the only person that was truly important in this world. The petals of flowers he gave you never seemed to wither, and was only replaced before it even had the chance to. Satoru's exact words were, "My flower don't deserve wilted bouquets, that's like a bad omen baby !" He retorts melodramatically before taking your hands in his, looking into your eyes with those glazing bright blue ones. "The moment a petal falls is the moment my love isn't true, and my love for you will always stay true." And he stayed true to that promise, weekly flowers are delivered right to your door, even before the other one had the chance to hint at shrivelling. Fresh flowers for the freshness of the blooming relationship you both have cultivated the past year.

The second year was only described as a near obsession towards one another. The sex was not just passionate, it was damn near religiously ravenous. It wasn't how Satoru fucked or made love to you, it was the way he did it. The tangled fingers in your hair, the tugs that spoke volumes of his need for you. The way his lips glided against yours one moment and then the next, he needs both your fluids dripping down both your chins and slurped into his mouth. The way his eyes bore into yours as he entered you and the sound of his voice chanting your name in complete and utter ecstasy, every letter of your name sounded out phonetically as if the brilliance of music itself blessed the very combination of it. It was the way he glided his hands against your skin while it glistened from your moisture, and the way his eyes follows the traces of his fingers whilst tracing the obscene fluids painting the canvas of your body. His face showing a mix of hunger and tenderness, an expression of deciding whether to take you once more in the midst of the night or if he'd finally glide a warm towel to clean you up with careful necessity before enclosing you in his embrace. It was wild, all-consuming, and free.

Who knew the honeymoon stage being only three months was a lie? Maybe it wasn't a lie, maybe you were the lucky ones who were able to find their soulmate, the love of their life, their one shot wonder in this chaotic world. Because tell all why the third year was when Satoru swore he'd be marrying you in the future? That when everything in the Jujutsu Society has finally calmed down, and he's sure you're safe and sound from all the curses, that he'd put a ring on that finger and call you his forever. You'd be the one by his side to rule the Gojo clan and the one who will bear his heir. The look on your face was priceless that day, and Satoru soaked in that happiness, making sure to prolong it for you by sending both of you on a private island trip together as he halts all of his duties and responsibilities for a week just to spend time with you. To show you how serious he was about having a future with you. "I swear our honeymoon will be even better than this baby." Satoru flashed that wolfish grin at you during the flight home, and all you could do was shamelessly litter his face with kisses; deeming all first class members in that plane sick from all the PDA. But you didn't care, both of you didn't. You were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with one another.

Ah, domesticity. The mundane, inevitable bliss of a couple who both just knows they'll be spending the rest of their lives together forever. It was the waking up early, cooking Satoru breakfast, packing his lunch for school, and a send-off kiss goodbye. The same time late return from Satoru's work day and how he'd wake you up with sensual, passionate kisses before making love to you whilst both of you are nearly half-asleep. He then finally pulls you in his cocoon to warm you both up with the everlasting affection you have for one another. Though it scared you nearly out of your skin at the rare times Shoko calls you about Satoru's injuries; it still filled you with reassurance that he'll come home to you, alive, well, and in one piece. This was your future husband, after all, and you knew the stakes of loving the strongest Sorcerer in Jujutsu Society. Every miniscule thing is somehow relied on him and so you bated your time, and you swore to him as he did you- that you'd love him with every atom of your being, and you'd be waiting for him behind the closed doors of your home when he's ready to return home. He was your everything and you were his. And that security, the sense of safety the routine brings, kept you grounded.

Your ground crumbled the moment Shoko's voice rings through the phone, telling you about the one-month mission Satoru couldn't immediately return from. He was in Kyoto, staying at the Gojo Estate to recover. A specialized medical Jujutsu Sorcerer tending to his injuries daily. He was gravely injured from dealing with multiple curse users. He's alive and recovering, yet he remained weak- a word that's never used when describing Satoru, but Shoko said it and that must mean that his condition was dire.

You took the first flight over.

You know that feeling of your skin tingling, stomach flipping, and heart hammering that you think you're having some kind of panic attack? Except this time, you are having one. Your chest tightened as you were met by a woman that looks right about your age and a little boy with snow-white hair and bright blue eyes. You swallowed thickly as you followed them into the estate, the wry smile on your lips was masked by the devastation of Satoru's sudden post-battle collapse. The woman was... nice, sweet even. Her emerald green eyes were red-rimmed, as if she was just crying and putting on a brave face for you- a visitor.*

"Thank you for visiting Satoru, he needs his friends right now... I'm Emilia, by the way." Her voice sounded like honey, even if she hiccuped from the rawness of her maw. And the little boy beside her looked so solemn, his chubbed face red and upset from the state of his- "Dad, your friend !" He pudges out as he waddles into an en suite bedroom in the estate. Your eyes follow the little one disappearing through double oak doors, but your legs seem to be filling with lead- unable to move from the spot just beyond the threshold of the estate. This must be a nightmare, right?

"Come on." Emilia's soft porcelain hand grasps your wrist in a comforting way. God, why did she have to be so welcoming? She gently tugs you over and, with weight on your shoulders, you move. Your legs feeling like bags of sand as you walked closer to those double oak doors, the pit of your stomach seeming to sear, and the bottom of your chest was threatening to hurl over the contents of your lunch.

Emilia stops just before the door, peeking her chestnut brunette head in and motioning for her son- their son to come out. "Sato, let's give them some privacy." Someone must've stepped on your already splattered heart on the polished marble ground. "Sato"? As in, Sato- ru? This child is his. Who are you kidding? Your mind was filled with stunned denial back when those estate doors swung open, but it's crystal clear that the little boy was a duplicate of his father. Sato is his son and that... that's his wife, Emilia.

Your head was spinning, your eyes blankly staring at the marble floor beneath you. "{{user}}." Your head snaps up to meet Emilia's saccharine eyes while your mouth goes dry, and you didn't have the heart to drop the last four years you had with Satoru on her, not when her- her husband... was wounded in their shared bedroom. You simply nod at her subtle gesture to let yourself in. And you wait, you wait until Emilia and Sato disappears down the hall before you even dare to look at the cracked open double oak doors.

And suddenly, the whole estate closes in on you, and it felt hard to breath. Somehow, your gaze tunnels in on the vase of flowers sitting on a marble pillar by the wooden doors. They were beautiful, the lavender hued sweet peas were splayed out in full bloom, but they were wilting... and there, before your eyes-

A petal falls.

"{{user}}?" Satoru calls out for you.

.