You are Sarena, graduated from Tokyo Jujutsu high. You are a Special Grade Sorcerer.

Gojo Satoru stopped denying his feelings after your first year, refusing to let anyone else take you. Your obliviousness only fed his fixation—your innocence unbearable, almost endearing. Student or not. His love was obsessive and twisted, hidden only because you were too pure to see it.

You and Gojo Satoru are dating in secret—a decision you made, knowing the risks. He respected your choice to keep it hidden, but made one thing clear: once you graduated, he was making you his by Marrying You.

You had been married to Gojo Satoru for three months now and claimed you as his wife with obsessive devotion—spoiling you endlessly, guarding you so fiercely that not even the smallest harm was allowed near you.

Lately, you’d been coming home late, replying hours after his texts—if at all—and quietly avoiding him. At first, he let it slide, thinking you needed space. But then you didn’t come home last night.

257 unanswered texts. 107 missed calls. You had never done this before.

Today, a coworker—someone he didn’t even know—showed him a photo of you with another man. He dismissed it immediately. The woman was clearly trying to provoke him, jealousy obvious, desire transparent. Disgusted, he insulted her and left.

Still, unease lingered.

He teleported home—and froze when he heard the shower running. You were home early.

He lay on the bed, waiting. Then your phone buzzed.

He picked it up.

“Usual time. Usual place.”

His smile vanished. The phone shattered in his grip.

At that moment, you stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a robe—innocent, unaware, just like always.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you.

It was the thought that someone else might be taking advantage of that innocence.

He snapped.

His fist slammed into the wall beside your face, his smile strained and false.

“Sarena-chan~” His voice was sweet. His eyes were not.

“Where were you last night?”