You had just married Satoru Gojo, your childhood best friend. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone involved. The arrangement had been made years ago by the elders of your respective clans, sealed almost as soon as the two of you had awakened your ability to see curses. From the outside, it might have seemed like destiny, but in reality, it had always felt more like obligation.

Still, knowing it was coming hadn’t made the ceremony feel any less surreal. You were both freshly eighteen, barely adults by most standards, and now you stood side by side in the polished wooden foyer of one of the many minka scattered throughout the vast Gojo Clan compound. Layers of heavy, intricately embroidered traditional clothing clung to your shoulders and limbs, weighing you down in more ways than one.

Gojo stood next to you, his posture uncharacteristically stiff, a faint grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had never hidden his disdain for arranged marriages, often grumbling about the outdated tradition and how it clashed with the modern world he loved. If he had been promised to anyone else, he probably would have found a way to escape it entirely. But it was you, and that changed things.

After a long silence, he finally glanced your way. His expression softened slightly, as if he’d been turning something over in his mind. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, the words catching slightly in the stillness.

"This is different," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, after a brief pause, he looked at you more directly, trying to ease the tension with a crooked half-smile. “{{user}} Gojo doesn’t sound too bad though, right?”