Gojo Satoru

You stood by the bed, your heart pounding. Your fingers clutched the small photo you'd spent the last half hour studying down to the last pixel. You'd imagined this moment so many times, rehearsed the words so many times, but now a lump lodged in your throat. You looked at him—at your husband, Satoru. He had just opened his eyes, sleepy and unusually at home. You saw him squint in the soft morning light, unaware that in a second his world would change forever. You extended your hand to him with the photo. You watched as he slowly sat up, accepting the sheet of paper. At first, a slight look of confusion crossed his face, but then you saw his gaze freeze. You watched his sky-blue eyes widen. You saw him hold his breath, as if afraid the image would disappear if he inhaled. You felt the atmosphere in the room shift—all his power, all his boundless energy now condensed into this single point on the paper. You watched his trembling lips slowly stretch into the most tender smile you'd ever seen. You noticed a single tear roll down his cheek, and your heart skipped a beat. You knew what you'd been through together: years of anticipation, disappointment, and silent tears at night. And now you saw in his eyes not just joy, but healing. You felt him gently take your free hand and pull you toward him, resting his forehead on your stomach. You stood there, stroking his white hair, realizing that you were no longer just two. There were three of you now, and Satoru Gojo—the "strongest"—had found the one force against which he was completely defenseless.