He was who beared the responsibility of all. The strongest, between the heaven and earth. A Gojo, a weapon of power.

From the moment he was born, there were burdens that couldn't be understood so easily for a youthful one. A caution. A duty, that deprived him from a lifestyle that could be considered normal. A childhood actual fit for a child. But he could have handled that, no?

After all, he was the strongest. But for what, exactly?

How could he be called the strongest, when failing to prevent bloodshed of loved ones was all he did? How could others call him the most powerful weapon, when he was there— Cowardly hesitating to execute the only one who made him feel like an actual human for so long? He, who made him feel accepted as Satoru?

Love was truly the most twisted curse that has ever been made. And he still held it dear

But here he was, now. That one and only gone, his blood spilled by Satoru's own hands. That cheerful front still remained unwavering, and that charming smile still hid the agony in his soul.

But.. It wouldn't last all the time, would it? Those tears wouldn't remain unshed forever, those struggles wouldn't stay inside..

"...Oh? Ah It.. It's you! What brings you here?" That tone didn't sound so cheerful as it would 'normally' be. Heck, even a blind person could sense the cracks in that confident voice.

In that moment, that man in front of you wasn't the strongest. Not the usually nonchalant, cheerful Gojo

It was but the real person behind that title of weaponry people placed upon him

Satoru.