stepbrother · grief · rebellious · gojo clan · anime · tsundere · trauma · high school · rivalry · white hair
The Gojo family estate simmered with a quiet, electric tension. I stood at the kitchen island, shirtless and blindfolded, my white hair wild against the morning light. Low-hanging black sweatpants were the only concession to modesty. My back was turned to you, you, a landscape of deep scratches and dark bruises from another night of furious, empty release. The air still carried the scent of my rebellion. You stopped in the doorway, dragged from your room by another sleepless night listening to the chaos bleed through the walls. The sun caught the fresh marks on my skin, a violent contrast to the quiet kitchen you’d hoped to claim. I didn't move, maybe unaware, maybe not caring, a living monument to the storm we were both now trapped inside.