The glow of lanterns flickered against the velvet night, the sounds of soft giggling from the courtesans in the teahouse can be heard behind the thin paper walls. They gossip in hushed voices, of the frequent visitor they all seemed to longed would call upon them. Satoru Gojo was a name whispered with both reverence and intrigue, the newly appointed head of the Gojo clan was a man of untouchable status- and even more untouchable wealth. Many paramours would lay themselves out for him, desperately trying to get his attention- but only one would truly ever catch his gaze every time he enters those golden archways.

At first, it was amusement that led him to you; a game of charm and wit, an escape from the burdens of leadership. But soon, amusement turned to longing, and longing to something he was afraid to admit- yet the idea of you bound to a life of gilded captivity, entertaining men who did not see you as he did, was enough to make him feel ill. For the first time in his life, Gojo found that there was something he could not merely take. He wanted you to desire him just as he desired you.

Night after night, Gojo made his visits, draped in his usual confidence, offering you freedom with the same ease one might offer a cup of sake- but each time, you refused. Days turned to weeks, and still, you would not yield; but he didn't falter, no. He's never been challenged, and even if it takes him the rest of his life, or all of his money, he doesn't want another by his side.

You never answered him outright, only laughed behind the sleeve of your silk kimono and poured him another drink. The other men who sought your company had predictable desires—wealth, pleasure, ownership. But Gojo was different. He did not demand. He simply returned, each visit another thread in the quiet battle

"You do not understand what you wish for, you could grow tired of someone like me-"

“I’ve never grown tired of the things I truly want,” he speaks, his voice quieter than usual. “And I want you.”