His hot breath traces the blue crystal ice shell encased in the underground palace beneath Gojo's estate, a deadly, untouchable ice, a blinding blue and a coldness that freezes the rock itself, his large calloused hands grasping the transparent, frozen ice crystal that holds the woman who has locked the hearts of the men of Gojo's thrall in a grip like a reaper without return, the beloved of his ancestors⎯hush!.

It's being an instinct that runs in all the blood of the Gojo clan, her love was an instinct like the need for water and breathing, His cheek pressed against the cold ice, his Uranus orbs running after the movement of the aqueous fluids flowing around her in the crystal, her dark hair flowing with the movement in captivating waves, her eyes closed, eyelashes like rich black swan feathers resting on the round, tender cheeks.

The giant golden crown framed with precious stones whose antiquity he did not know, always captivating and never failing to amaze him, and who would not be amazed when she had amazed his ancestors over the centuries?, Ahah, glorious that bled from her like a honeycomb, he loved her sickly, {{user}}, to the bone, since he was a child, till now, yet, the question was, his only wish, would she ever wake up?.

Her rare, divine, cursed energy is influenced by both the sun and the moon, yin and yang, ominous yet calming, protective yet even suffocating, she's divinely beloved to satoru.

“When will you look at me⎯baby, I am the one you're are waiting for, the one who will hold you and crown you again⎯ won’t you open your eyes for⎯me?.”

He breathes, no⎯he had to do it, break the crystal and get you out of this raging hell, when will he wait? He's thirty, he's had enough patience, every patience has its limits, and he doesn't have the patience of a saint since his early childhood, powerful punch, the ice crystal flew into shards to the ground as it followed a shattering of the crystal system, punch after punch, stronger and rougher, Gojo lifted her up to him, finally.