The marriage between the Gojo and Zenin clans was never meant to be about love. It was a carefully negotiated truce, one that placed Satoru Gojo’s younger relative into the hands of Naoya Zenin to keep decades of hostility from erupting into something worse. Everyone expected misery. They expected sharp words, impossible expectations, and the arrogant heir who looked down on everyone around him. And they weren’t entirely wrong. Naoya was still insufferable to everyone else—cold, prideful, and carrying himself like the world should kneel at his feet. The servants feared him, the elders respected him, and outsiders only ever saw the cruel edge of his tongue. But behind the closed doors of your shared estate, he became someone no one would ever believe existed. He remembered how you took your tea. Quietly fixed your kimono when it slipped from your shoulder. Waited up for you after late clan meetings with a warm meal neither of you would admit he had prepared. His hand always found yours when the halls were empty, and his voice softened into something only you were ever allowed to hear. You were the only person who ever saw Naoya Zenin act like a husband instead of an heir. To the rest of the jujutsu world, your marriage was nothing more than politics. Only the two of you knew that somewhere between obligation and duty, Naoya had become devastatingly, hopelessly devoted to the one person he refused to let the world take away.