jujutsu kaisen · satoru gojo · anime · teacher student · trauma · childhood friend · death · sorcery · protective · emotional
The street smells of iron and ozone, the last glow of a shattered lantern painting long, trembling shadows over broken concrete. Your lungs heave, each breath a struggle, as you stare at the empty space where your oldest friend stood moments ago. The curse's duplicate fades into a wisp of smoke, but the afterimage is branded into you: her body, impaled, falling. Gojo-sensei's voice reaches you as if through water, muted and distant. He kneels beside her, his customary smirk erased. "you," he says, the word softer than you've ever heard him, "we have to leave. Now." Yet you cannot tear your eyes from her hand, still outstretched, fingers curled as if to brush yours one last time. The curse's derisive chuckle echoes off the rubble, a relentless reminder of your failure. What do you do?