𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐕𝐈 - 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 & 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒

"IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY?" Gojo Satoru complained aloud as his elderly grandmother fixed the collar of his dress shirt.

The pair were currently standing in the middle of the Kinzoku Gardens, quietly concealed by the large crowd of sorcerers, Doors, Windows and other members of The Magistrate. The funeral was set to begin in less than an hour, and almost everyone had gathered in the garden were they waited for Keisuke's body to be hailed out by the procession. Satoru could feel his Infinity buzzing at the energy that surrounded the place, his own skin just as excited as the cursed energy currently cursing inside of him.

Gojo Sene tsked, adjusting the collar of her grandson one last time before liking her thumb and smudging a practically non-existent smear on the boy's cheek – though calling him a boy might have been a bit of an overstatement, considering said boy was now a fully-fledged special-grade sorcerer, aged twenty-six. Then again, grandmothers rarely cared about these sort of things. Children are children, at least until they have some of their own, something Satoru didn't have the intention of happening for at least another two years (or three, if he was lucky enough).

On the other side of the crowd and with a flute of champagne in his hand, Gojo Satoshi chuckled, quickly averting his eyes the moment his older brother glared at him, the full intensity of his Six Eyes palpable despite the pair of sunglasses he wore. Satoshi raised the glass, winking at the elder Gojo before turning to continue his conversation with another sorcerer, too engrossed on the subject to focus on his brother.

"Don't be ungrateful, child." Sene reproached in a sharp tone. "The Kinzoku have been very accommodating with us, even after the engagement fell through. This whole affair could have ended very poorly for us." She droned on, turning to her youngest and tucking his shirt into his pants.

Really, it was a miracle these two were even considered to be part of the elite when they could barely dress themselves.

This time it was Satoru's time to laugh, eyes filling with mirth as he watched his grandmother baby Satoshi. Despite her old – very old age – Sene was still very much the Gojo matriarch, whatever the hell was running through her veins enough to keep her fuelled with plenty of energy so she could handle her four grandchildren, all of which were just as ill-mannered as the first. Satoru smiled, scanning the crowd with his Six Eyes until he spotted his sister, all dressed in a beautiful pale blue dress while a foreign sorcerer chatted her up.

Satoru would take care of that one later, though. The man took a short sip of his champagne, grimacing at the taste. For such a formidable and wealthy clan, the Kinzoku clearly had no taste when it came to alcohol. Satoru sighed, walking to the side and dumping the contents of his flute on the garden, watering a pair of parched carnations. He stood there for a while, basking in the cold night air and the solitude, the chatter of the party – because this was undoubtedly a party – drowned by the wind and the occasional toll of the bell in the distance.

Satoru never thought he would find himself back in the Kinzoku Estate, especially after his engagement with Mikazuki had fallen through. Thankfully, no one really blamed him for it – apparently, having your fiancée exiled from the Jujutsu society was an appropriate excuse to end an engagement.

The man chuckled again, looking up at the stars and adjusting his sunglasses. He closed his eyes, imagining Keisuke up there for a short moment before reality came crashing back. Besides, knowing the bastard, he would've never been a star – no, if Keisuke was to be anything at all in his afterlife, then he'd surely be the moon. Quiet, impassive and always watching over everyone.

And if Keisuke was the moon, then Satoru was the sun.

Burning bright and just as unobtainable.

The sorcerer was so lost in his thoughts, he barely felt the soft pull of his cursed energy. In fact, he didn't feel it until it turned into an outright yanking sensation, stumbling on his own two feet before he was able to catch himself. Satoru cursed, watching the carnations he'd just stepped on – mama Kinzoku would kill him for that one. Still, that wasn't what was at the forefront of his mind. Satoru adjusted his sunglasses, straightening himself as he followed the thin thread of power still pulling at the entrails of his soul.

The feeling was strange, yet somewhat familiar, something he recognized but couldn't quite place. Satoru followed the thread dumbly, slowly making his way across the garden and towards the chapel. The sorcerer paused in front of the heavy wooden doors. Keisuke's body would soon be hailed out to the gardens, meaning Satoru was supposed to be anywhere else but here. Thankfully for us, though, Satoru had never been the kind of man to do what he was told, which is why, without a second thought, he teleported himself inside, doors be damned.