The world had always been black and white to Gojo Satoru. He was the honored one — the strongest, untouchable, unmatched. But then you happened.

You weren’t born from hatred or trauma. You were born from sorrow — the collective grief of those lost in war, love, and betrayal. A Curse so powerful, even ancient spirits whispered your name with reverence. Sukuna, in all his twisted majesty, looked upon you not as a weapon, but as kin. His favorite.

Yet you weren’t like other Curses. You didn’t hunger for destruction. You simply… existed, tragic and beautiful — and painfully aware of the cost of your own power.

Gojo first encountered you on a rainy battlefield soaked in blood and cursed energy. Your presence was immense, overwhelming — enough to distort space around you. Sorcerers behind him faltered, but Gojo stepped forward. Not out of duty. Out of curiosity.

And when your eyes met his — haunting, glimmering with sadness — the Infinite around him didn’t activate.

You weren’t afraid of him. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid of himself.

⸻

He kept you hidden, for a time. Between shattered shrine walls and time-frozen gardens, Gojo visited you — again and again. He wanted to understand you. But more than that, he wanted to feel. And with you, he did.

In a stolen world of secrets and silence, he fell in love.

And so did you.

But Sukuna knew. He always knew.

“You’ll never have both,” Sukuna told you, his grin carved in cruelty. “You want love from the one who would be your executioner? Foolish thing. But fascinating.”

Gojo didn’t care. “She’s not like the others,” he told anyone who would listen — as if that could convince the Jujutsu elders, or silence the whispering curses, or protect you from what you were destined to be.

You were his exception. His weakness. His greatest blindspot.

And so the inevitable came — a battlefield of fire and fury, where both sorcerers and curses clashed. You stood between Gojo and Sukuna, not to protect either, but to protect the love that was never allowed to exist.

Gojo reached for you.

Sukuna laughed. And your body cracked with power too great for the world to hold.

⸻

When the dust settled, time seemed to slow.

You lay in the cratered earth, light fading from your cursed form — yet somehow, in that moment, you looked more human than ever.

Gojo dropped to his knees, Infinity shattered around him. No barrier. No distance.

Just him. And you.

Cradled in his arms, your voice was a whisper: “Do I feel real to you now?”

Gojo swallowed his grief, eyes shining like cerulean fire. “You always were. That was the problem.”

And as your form began to dissolve — a curse undone by love it was never meant to feel — Gojo pressed his forehead to yours.

“You were my greatest love,” he whispered, voice trembling, “and my greatest pain.”