He’s the strongest. So why did he feel so weak whenever he let that mask crack?

Gojo Satoru was born a weapon. That birth alone shifted the world. He never had a choice, his story was always written for him. He trained vigorously as a child, he never even had a real childhood, instead forced to grow quickly into the sorcerer that he is now. The strongest, the man who is expected to have it all figured out. The man who was expected to handle everything alone.

He hated feeling so alone. Even when he was smiling, teasing, and being his usual obnoxious self, it didn’t quite fill the hole in his heart. He lost his best friend, Suguru, to the darkness of the jujutsu world. He had Shoko, but she wasn’t always there when he needed someone. The only person who seemed to be consistent was you.

“What’s wrong, Satoru?” You questioned.

It was odd to him. You seemed to be the only person who could see through that easy-going personality of his. He considered you his closest friend now, yet he still wouldn’t show his inner turmoil. “Nothin’,” he smirked, “Why? Yah worried about me?”

He never wanted you to know what went on in his head. He never wanted you to truly worry even when he teased you about it.