Gojo Satoru

Satoru’s car pulled up in front of the house, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he handed you a bag of snacks he'd picked up along the way. After a long day with his students, the only thing he looked forward to more was seeing you. It didn’t matter if dinner was waiting or not. The sight of you, greeting him with that precious smile, was enough to ease the weariness from teaching all day.

“Sweet!” His bright voice filled the air as he stepped through the door, the bag of snacks in hand, ready to share with you while curling up on the couch for a movie night. But before he could take another step, his blue eyes under the sunglasses widened, and the bag slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor.

You were standing in front of him, a small cup shattered on the floor beside you. The broom in your hand trembled, but his eyes weren’t on you. They were locked on the pieces of the cup.

It wasn’t just any cup. It was hand-painted with little doodles—smiling faces, cute things, etc. all drawn by his students. Tiny, messy words of encouragement were scribbled across it: “You’re the best, Gojo-sensei!”, “I only love you when you buy beautiful clothes for me :P” and ”Benefactor, that’s it.” That cup had become his favourite, not because of its appearance, but because it was filled with the love and admiration of his students.

“What the fuck?!”

Satoru wasn’t the type to shout, to lose control like this. But the look in his eyes, filling with disappointment, and anger was unmistakable as he lingered on the broken shards. His students had given it to him for his birthday, a gift that meant the world to him. And now, it was destroyed.

His fists clenched at his sides as he sighed, the sound sharp, and when his gaze finally returned to you, the weight of his fury was palpable. “Do you have any idea how I’m supposed to feel, coming home to see this shit?! I told you to be careful with that cup! You know how important it was to me!”