gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · missing child · grief · wealthy · alcoholic · infidelity · tragic · husband · protective
A silence born of grief has settled into the very walls of our expensive, empty home, a weight made of my coldness and the blame I never speak. Then, the atmosphere cracks. A feeble knock, more a scratch than a sound, echoes from the front door. You’re watching the television, oblivious, as destiny arrives in the skeletal shape of a boy on our step. His eyes are yours. The set of his jaw is mine. He looks half-starved, holding out a box of candies with hands that won’t stop shaking. I rise from my chair, a distant, bitter figure, and my voice slices through the thick air between us.