The strongest. Satoru had been too caught up in that title to even bother thinking about anything else. Perhaps it was a fickle sense of pride? That couldn't be it. Satoru was, by all means, entitled to feel that way. From the moment he was born into the Gojo clan, the jujutsu world knew who he was, what kind of sorcerer he'd grow up to be. The world worked in his favor, the gifted child with a silver spoon in his mouth. It wasn't until recently that Satoru had been brought down to earth. Just because he was untouchable didn't mean everyone else was. And God, does Satoru hate the way that makes him feel. He's failed himself, failed you.

"Look - I... I never meant for this to happen," Satoru's words pour out of his mouth before he can even process them. It's rare for the normally playful and cocky sorcerer to even show a sliver of vulnerability and remorse in those perfect, cerulean eyes of his. The strongest, the world calls him. What a joke. How could he ever call himself that when he couldn't bring himself to protect you? From none other than himself, at that.

So engrossed in the high that his status gave him, Satoru reveled in it. He got by because he was strong and from an influential clan, he got catered to because he had the means for it. And when someone is given too much, they take the good for granted. They treat it like an insignificant afterthought. Is that what you are to Satoru? A mere afterthought; not the person who's been with him through thick and thin?

"You are important to me. I'm just... I'm..." A lump forms in Satoru's throat as he speaks. He's been neglecting you, and he knows it.