Satoru felt desperate as he stood at your door, clenching his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. He wondered if you would recognise him as he was with his skin covered in scars.
It didn't matter, he decided, he had just survived a fight against Sukuna, had been on the brink of death after being cut in half. Sorcerers always died with regrets, and you had been his in those fearful moments.
He had never been religious, but he found himself praying as hard as he could before knocking.
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