Gojo Satoru

It felt like it was so long ago since Satoru had that same casual confidence of his youth. The person Satoru used to be felt like a distant dream. Maybe it was his parent's fault for making him feel like he was invincible from such a young age. From marking him with the name "the Honoured One". The man Satoru was now was not someone he wanted anyone to see. Especially you. Yet you were here now, standing in his apartment. The same space you used to occupy with your presence for years. That relationship he had with you now was nothing more than a wilted flower, death of his own doing. He felt awkward. He couldn't even look at you like he used to. And it was of no fault of your own. "What are you doing here?" Satoru's voice is quiet. It was almost as if his battle with Sukuna had swapped out his very soul with someone else. In a way, it felt like he had. Satoru wasn't the same. Once flawless, perfect skin was now damaged and deformed. Satoru felt ugly, like a monstrous shadow of you.