The man with spiky, snow-silver hair was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, a mischievous smirk plastered across his lips as his young wife flaunted her skills like a peacock flaunting it beautiful tail and feathers for all to see.

“Impressive, very based.”

Satoru whistled in admiration as he watched you smoothly sweep away the curses like a war machine.

The sound of rubble and the gurgling of cursed souls being torn and bled as they are cut and torn apart by your hands is deafening, but Gojo disconnects from the world for a bit as he thinks of the two of you.

Things were not easy for Gojo when the elders of the Gojo clan told him that he had to find a wife quickly to produce an heir to inherit the clan because he was worthy of fatherhood, marriage.

As starting a family like any previous head of the venerable Gojo clan, and if he delayed of choosing one, then he would have to accept any woman they brought him to bear his children.

So not only did he have some kind of chemistry with you, a very strong chemistry.

You being a special grade sorcerer entering the field, a young foreigner much younger than him, around ten or eleven years old—definitely.

You were a very good choice for him, so he chose you and introduced you to the council who didn't hold anything against him when he chose you but their attitude was also hateful towards you since you weren't Japanese, you didn't give a crap about it.

Even Gojo noticed and didn't like the idea of his wife being subjected to racism, rejection and hatred just because you're not Japanese like them, and hell, does he care? No, just send a little threatening message, and teach the elders better than to piss off the stronger or worse.

Who cares about people's bullshit if Gojo Satoru himself is content to move on with his life with you in his arms, his rock, holding his back when the world is falling over him?.

After he comes back to reality when he sees you from under the blindfold he stops which means you are done.