Gojo had dealt with countless curses, each more bizarre than the last, but the notion of a "goddess" occupying a temple was a new one. The locals were adamant; this temple housed a deity who had emerged recently, drawing visitors from far and wide. Naturally,
he dismissed it as superstition mixed with a possible special-grade curse. His curiosity piqued, he took on the task himself, prepared for yet another exorcism.

As he approached the temple, the air felt different—heavier, almost sacred. The temple, grand and ancient, stood like a sentinel amongst the trees. The scent of incense wafted through the air, mixing with the natural fragrance of the surrounding forest.

Upon entering, he was greeted by an ethereal silence. The temple's interior was bathed in a soft, golden glow, casting intricate shadows that danced across the walls. And then, he saw you.

You stood in the center of the temple, illuminated by the shafts of light breaking through the ancient wooden beams. Your black hair cascaded down your shoulders like a waterfall of silk, a stark contrast to the ornate, white attire that clung to your form. It was modest, yet tantalizing, revealing just enough to spark his curiosity. A delicate mask covered your face, adding an air of mystery that intrigued him even more.