𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐈 - 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

BY THE TIME MIKAZUKI MADE IT 'HOME', it was already midday. The lanterns in the garden were dim, tracing the gravel path in red and yellow light as she made her way across the garden and into the main house. The Window who had accompanied her to the Estate was already long gone, the company's car barely visible as it drove away back into the interstate, probably heading back to Tokyo.

Mikazuki halted her steps, taking in the image in front of her, a bitter taste settling in her mouth at the sight. The property was big, larger than it had been when she still lived within its walls. The cemetery area had been rebuilt, as had the training ground by the pond and the stone of the deck was also new, its grey colour contrasting against the warm browns of the cedar wood that had been used for the houses.

The sorceress stood in the middle of the path, hands fisted at her sides as she took it all in, taking a deep breath, the scent of fresh peonies and hydrangeas filling her nostrils. A fickle memory trickled into her mind, so quick and fleeting Mikazuki didn't even bother to pinpoint it, momentarily basking in the warmth of the sun before she resumed her trek up the trail.

Just like she had expected, there was no big fanfare waiting for her, not a single family member in sight, just a handful of servants whose faces she did not recognize. Turns out, everyone who had been working directly for her had been let go as soon as her exile had been finalized. It was such a Kinzoku thing to do, Mikazuki didn't even know why she was surprised in the first place.

The servants didn't speak as they guided her into the house, all of them well aware she was more than acquainted with the layout by now. Still, Mikazuki dutifully followed them, leaving the long gravel path behind and climbing the stairs of the wooden deck, the sliding doors of the main house open just wide enough she could slither inside. The sorceress hadn't expected a grand entrance, yet she thought they would have the decency to at least greet her at the door. But of course, even in that aspect, her family was always eager to disappoint.

When Mikazuki entered the main house, she paused, an unreadable expression settling on her features. The last time she stepped through that door, she was eighteen-years-old, gathering a small bag of belongings before being ushered back out like a treacherous criminal instead of what she truly was – the heiress.

Not that this was her role from the beginning, but that's a story for another time.

In truth, nothing about the house had changed. It was still the same, with the tatami floors peeled at the corners, and the smooth wood panels on the walls waxed and cleaned to perfection. Mikazuki let her finger trail across the sliding screen door, feeling the fabric under her skin, the smell of cedar and peonies flooding her senses once again. She hadn't missed this place, not as much as she should have, at least. The material felt strange under her fingers, rough and coarse, unwelcoming – just like rest of the house and the people inhabiting it.

Mikazuki scanned the house, allowing the tendrils of her cursed technique to sift through the air like bullets, scouring every single crack in the wood and rifts on the paper. By the time they snapped back to her, gently sliding back into the cracks on her arms, she'd already inspected the entire house and the acres that surrounded it.

The servants had already scattered themselves, returning to whatever duties they were expected to perform, and just like them, the sorceress took a deep steady breath, bracing herself for what awaited her on the other side of the door, the golden trinkets dangling from the handle like an open invitation.

Mikazuki stood in front of the sliding screen door, the embers of her cursed technique outlining the souls of the people sitting on the other side, their figures barely visible through the fabric of the screen. The sorceress bit the inside of her cheek, reeling the tendrils of her Eternity back in just as easily as it had first seeped out.

Without a second thought or even the ghost of hesitation, Mikazuki pulled the screen open, pushing it to the side and revealing what laid on the other side. There, sitting like a regal king, stood Kinzoku Asahi, his expression impassive and his gaze just as unreadable as it had always been. On the other side of the room and far less amused then her father stood the clan elders, a group of old and frail-looking grey-haired men, all of which glared in her direction the moment she stepped onto the room.

Mikazuki could feel the power radiating from them – even as old carcasses, they still held a surprising amount of cursed energy, not that it had ever been enough to rival hers. She was the strongest, after all, a title she would not hesitate to reclaim as soon as the Kinzoku were dead and buried, which would happen soon enough.

"Well, well, well." Asahi cackled, his golden eyes trailing towards the sorceress. "It seems the prodigal daughter has finally returned."

Mikazuki bit her tongue, blood soon pooling in her mouth at the greeting. Keisuke had been the prodigal son, the golden boy, daddy's perfect son. Mikazuki was just the spare. The woman shook her head, a couple of grey curls coming undone from her braid and framing her lean face.

Keisuke's body wasn't even cold and Asahi was already playing games.

Still, unwilling to delay things any further, Mikazuki stepped into the room, delighting in the elders' faces as they eyed her mortal attire with foul looks. The sorceress sat in front of her father, the tacky 24-karat table that stood between them not enough to stop the venom exhuming from the man as she settled down.

"I'm only here for my brother's funeral, don't go getting any ideas." She snapped, her voice oddly calm despite the sweat gathering in her hands.

Asahi rolled his eyes, completely unbothered by his daughter's unruly behaviour. He wasn't here to bargain, Mikazuki was his by right, and he was going to ensure she knew it. Taking this as his cue, one of the elders shuffled slightly, pulling out a wad of papers and slowly scanning the document as he read.

"Right, let's get back to the matter at hand." He called, coughing lightly and adjusting his glasses and pulling the paper closer to his face. "Keisuke's funeral has been scheduled for tomorrow night, it will be held on the East Garden, on the other side of the chapel. His body will be available for guests to pay their respects, then, at midnight, he will be moved to the gardens for his last farewell." He read coldly, as if Keisuke's funeral was only a mere transaction and not the death of a family member.

Then again, to them, Keisuke had always been just a pretty face with powerful cursed energy – nothing more, and nothing less.

The elders paused his speech, looking up from his papers and levelling the young Kinzoku heiress with a purposeful look.

"As his twin, you will be expected to bid him farewell and guide him to the next life. You will sit at the front of the procession, preferably where everyone can see you." The man looked down again, shuffling his papers around. "You will be seated next to the Gojo Clan, put on a pretty smile and show The Magistrate just how amicable the split has been for the both of our clans. As always, there will be precautions; fifteen steps should do it."

Mikazuki wet her bottom lip, her cursed energy flickering for a second before settling back down.

Gojo Satoru.

Between the trip from Argentina and all of the drama that came with the funeral, the sorceress had completely forgotten about the man.

Her fiancée.