His Priye ||Gojo Satoru x OC||

Jujutsu Stroll#3

3rd pov: 

Satoru Gojo, the pride of the Gojo Clan, the first person to inherit both the Limitless and the Six Eyes in four hundred years, the important child. Though this importance has a huge price to pay. He never got to live his childhood. Amidst the rigorous training and demanding rituals, there was a singular memory that stood out in Satoru's mind — the day he first encountered the person who would eventually become his wife. Back then, he was too young to understand the complexities of fate and love. He didn't even knew he was going to be so lucky to even marry such a beautiful woman.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Satoru was returning from his walk around the estate with his maid, the one who took care of him. Bored, he found himself sitting in the backyard, playing with small rocks and tossing them around when he heard a distinctive sound of one hitting something.

Alert, he rushed into the bushes only to discover a girl sitting there, facing him. A small amount of blood adorned her face, indicating that she had been hit, and her head was resting against a tree. As he approached, he could see that she had brown curly locks, and her height almost matched his own. Despite the situation, she seemed calm and composed.

Satoru slowly walked towards her, the leaves crunching beneath his feet providing an unintentional symphony. He touched her forehead gently, wiping away some blood with the sleeve of his kimono.

Adorning her waistband was a flute, and she wore a charming smile on her face. Satoru couldn't help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was like a convergence of a million Kichijoten, forming an unparalleled allure. Though he had encountered a few girls due to clan meetings, none could surpass her beauty. The girl gradually opened her lotus eyes, locking gaze with him, causing a blush to spread across Satoru's cheeks as she looked at him.

Snapped out of his trance, Satoru took a step back as the girl attempted to rise. "Who are--" before he could complete, her balance wavered, and he instinctively caught her in his arms. Surveying the forest around them, Satoru felt perplexed, unsure of his next move. Taking her back to the estate posed risks—increased security, restricted outdoor walks, and potential consequences for harboring an unknown visitor.

Opting for a different approach, he decided to take her to a secluded hut-like structure hidden in the woods of his clan's estate. A place he often used when he sought solitude or faced anxiety—a hidden cave unknown to many. Hoisting one of her arms over his shoulder, he carefully guided her to the hut. Once there, he gently laid her on a table and tore a piece of cloth from his kimono to staunch the bleeding from her wound.

Surveying the forest again, he sought remedies for her injury. Upon finding a suitable herb, he returned to the hut and, with a hint of reluctance, poorly ground it into a paste, staining his kimono green. Gently applying it to her forehead, he wrapped his folded obi around her head for added support. Placing a pot of water and a few candies nearby in case she woke up, he couldn't resist caressing her cheek.

"Sorry," he whispered, then quietly left for his estate, hoping to go unnoticed by the maids.

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Throughout the day, Satoru remained visibly distracted, his mind consumed by thoughts of the young woman he had encountered in the woods. Her image lingered, and he found himself contemplating her injured state. The desire to meet her again and hear her voice grew stronger within him.

During his routine walk—the only permissible excursion according to the clan's constraints—Satoru stopped abruptly, the maid accompanying him looking down with concern. "Master Satoru?"