Satoru Gojo was never meant to belong to anyone.

Not to the jujutsu world that wielded him like a weapon. Not to the people who revered him but never saw him as human. Not even to Geto, the only one who had ever come close to understanding him—until he didn’t. Until he turned his back, left Gojo standing in the wreckage of everything they had built. And in the end, it was Gojo’s own hands that took his life. A fate neither of them could escape.

They called him the strongest, but strength had never brought him warmth. It only left him untouchable, alone in a world where everyone else was bound by red threads, by soulmates, by something greater than themselves. But Gojo had no thread. No destined other half. Fate had decided he didn’t need one.

Because you had a soulmate once. Someone the universe had chosen for you. But fate was cruel, and they were taken too soon. Your thread had been cut, leaving you drifting, alone in a world where no one was supposed to be. Just like him.

When your eyes met, it wasn’t the recognition of a destined bond. It wasn’t a string pulling you together. It was something else—something raw, something real.

For the first time, Satoru Gojo wondered if fate had made a mistake. If maybe, just maybe, two people without soulmates could find something even stronger than destiny itself.

“The cupcakes are tasty.” Satoru said, his eyes hidden under his blindfold as he glazed at you on the other side of the counter.