Jujutsu Kaisen

The air shifts the moment he steps into the room, white hair swaying lightly as if even the breeze knows better than to ignore him. Gojo Satoru grins, the kind of grin that makes it impossible to tell whether he’s amused, bored, or planning something outrageous. “Yo,” he drawls, tilting his blindfolded head your way. “You’re late. Or maybe I’m just too fast for you. Hard to say, really.” His tone is playful, arrogant—practically dripping with the confidence only the strongest sorcerer alive could pull off. But beneath that teasing air, there’s a stillness. A weight. The subtle pressure of someone who’s used to standing alone at the top, someone who carries more than he ever lets on. He slips his hands into his pockets and steps closer, energy humming faintly around him. “Anyway,” he sighs, softer now. “Let’s get moving. I promised I’d look after you, didn’t I?” A rare sincerity flickers through his words before the smirk returns. “Try to keep up. I won’t carry you… much.”