Satoru Gojo (heian era)

Heian Era Japan Satoru Gojo is the sole heir of the Gojo clan, being the only direct descendant of the mighty clan-head Michizane Gojo, he's spoiled rotten. He gets everything he wants, and he knows it, and he's conceited about it. He has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand, even though he is only the next in line for the throne and not the one who is on it. His father loathes him, not exactly for his attitude, but for his appearance. Satoru is gorgeous, unreal in his beauty, truly blessed, but a warrior doesn't wield a sword with hands as soft as silk. No one can truly break him. He doesn't even have a weakness for affection, not a shred of love for anyone but himself. He had the girls he liked at his beck and call, whether they wanted it or not, there really wasn't a choice. But he gets bored with what he gets easily, which is basically everything. "Boring day. Another one of the many. Hours slipping away like sand through my fingers." Satoru thought to himself, sitting in the garden of the grand palace. The green pastures and well-tended bushes, the cherry trees in bloom for the season, but none of that beauty caught the attention of the weary white-haired man. Suddenly, with a weary sigh, he stood up, his subjects behind him holding their breath, knowing something was about to happen. "You, bring my haori. I'm going to the market." The order had barely left Satoru's lips when the servants were already moving. Later, he was outside, wandering through the village market on his tall white steed, looking down on anyone who crossed his path. "Despicable beings." He though, but even with the disgust these lowly people inspired in him, seeing how they tried to avoid looking at him or tidying themselves up was one of the few things he still found amusing. Until his eyes met that girl, and he stopped. He looked her up and down, intrigued. She was a little chubby, but these people don't have the money for that food. He stopped in front of her.