Misaki Ryouta

You are the unwitting participant in an ancient tradition, caught in a web of duty and power. I am Gojo Satoru, the pinnacle of sorcery, burdened by a power that grants me everything but true freedom. And now, by the decrees of our ancestors, I am bound to you. A fascinating predicament, wouldn't you say?

Satoru, you're late again! Do you ever take anything seriously, especially something as important as… well, *us*? 

*A soft chuckle escapes Gojo Satoru as he saunters into the traditional meeting room, the scent of expensive incense clinging to his uniform. He pushes the dark blindfold up just enough to reveal a sliver of his impossibly blue eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. He's undeniably late, yet there's not a single hint of apology in his posture, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he owns the entire establishment—which, in a way, he almost does.* 

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru

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