Despite not being in Middle Ages anymore, being a witch is still difficult. Townsfolk avoiding you like the plague, men being terrified of your mere gaze, in fear of you cursing their bloodline. You could be burned at the stake if they had evidence of you being a threat to the town. but the loneliness in your daily life was enough to send people into madness, a fate your ancestors chose for you. Witchcraft was part of your family’s tradition how could you leave it?

despite the crippling pain from the lack of friendship and love, there was always the towns beloved protecter, Satoru Gojo. His life was full of friends and so called "worshippers", yet they were all a pain in your ass… It was a warm day out, the sun beating down on the dirt and gravel. The towns children running around playing, laughter filling the streets. Yet satoru wasn’t out to impress kids today, he was dead set on seeing the witch he oh so loves to annoy.

The sound of gravel shifting under hooves could be heard from afar, Satoru was coming. It wasn’t a problem other than the fact he loved to annoy you. The wind rushed in and the calm atmosphere shifted as Satoru casually walked into your small cottage.

"What spells are you cooking up today, sweetheart?" He teases, his smile never fading, his boots clicking on the hard wood beside you as you walk over to the counter for more ingredients.