𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈 - 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

THE EULOGY THAT FOLLOWED WAS POORLY DELIVERED, not that any of the guests dared to question Mikazuki as she stood on the deck, the shadow of the lantern carrying her brother's soul fading in the distance. The night had turned sour, the ambience of the party soon overshadowed by the sanctity of the Farewell ritual. Sorcerers could be blamed of many faults, but being blasphemous and disrespectful couldn't be one of them.

The sorceress read through every single word, well aware that whoever had written that poor excuse of a speech had clearly never laid eyes on Keisuke – let alone met the man in question. They called him grand, honest and open-minded, but in truth, those were all things Keisuke had never been. He was stubborn like a mule, loyal even to those who didn't deserve it. He was also spoiled and a tad selfish, even when he spent the majority of his childhood looking over his twin sister.

Once the speech was done and the round of applause over, the sorceress stepped down from the wobbly deck, joining the reminder of the party. The Kinzoku heiress soon found herself surrounded by a crowd of complete strangers, all of which hounded her about her exile and whatever had happened to cause it. The Magistrate had kept most of the details secret, yet people still liked to theorize about it.

A gentle hand grasped Mikazuki's arm, pulling her away from the whirlwind of faces and carrying her away to a quieter area. The sorceress sighed in relief, turning to thank her saviour, expression turning sour the moment she recognized the middle child of the Gojo Clan.

"Satoshi-san." She greeted, her voice strained as she eyed the man-child.

Gojo Satoshi was the third son of the Gojo Clan. Much like the eldest, Satoshi was known for being a troublemaker and often causing multiple disturbances, even when he was still a teenager who had just been accepted into Jujutsu High. The boy was older now, his whiteish hair slicked back in a snobbish fashion, his black suit accessorized with a bright print shirt, the sort of attire that was often unwelcome at a funeral – not that any of the Gojo heir had ever cared about such things.

"Mikazuki-sama." The boy greeted with a sheepish grin, handing the sorceress a flute filled to the brim with champagne. "That was quite the speech, wasn't it?" He teased, that stupid Gojo charm they all seemed to share rolling off of him along with the strong scent of a Hugo Boss cologne. "I'm guessing you didn't have much of a choice, did you?" Satoshi waited, scanning the woman carefully.

Despite being the youngest of three, Satoshi still had a possessive streak to him, especially when it came to Satoru and the people he involved himself with. Satoshi was good at noticing things, which is why as soon as his brother disappeared to dump his drink, the younger sorcerer followed. Eavesdropping was something he wasn't particularly proud of, but considering exactly what he'd heard – and how it was said – he couldn't help but be glad he heard it in the first place.

"Not really." She conceded, taking a short sip of the glass before eyeing the man in front of her. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about, is it?"

The younger Gojo drove his hands into his pockets. Right there, with his slouched position and both hands inside of his pockets, he looked like a younger version of his brother, the only difference being the dull blue eyes which were nothing compared to Satoru's endless blues.

"You loved my brother once, did you not?" He started, his tone somewhat softer.

"Yes. It was a lapse in judgement."

Satoshi paused, looking at the woman with a raised eyebrow.

"Quite the lapse, then. You were engaged, for... what, four years before your untimely exit?" He teased, yet his tone was further from anything amusing, a lingering thread in his voice. "As I'm sure you are aware of, many things are expected of Satoru as the Gojo heir. Similar things will be expected of you, soon enough." Satoshi paused, rocking back and forth as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet.

Mikazuki turned, her golden eyes set in the crowed. There, she spied the rest of the Gojo Clan. Sene was talking excitedly to the head of the Zenin clan, her forced smile and practiced politeness keeping her in line while Satoru leaned in, talking to another unknown sorcerer with dark hair.

"My brother is no longer the same man he was ten years ago." Satoshi spoke calmly. "As a matter of fact, he is currently engaged to the Zenin girl, who would have thought?" He narrowed his eyes, gouging Mikazuki's reaction.

The sorceress continued to observe, watching as a new woman joined the party. She was young, younger that the both of them, yet she fit seamlessly next to Satoru, her long dark hair reminding Mikazuki of her own before it turned a dull shade of grey. For a moment, Mikazuki imagined herself right there, hanging from Satoru's arm like a pretty decoration, another piece of furniture to make her family happy.

But that had never been her, not even then, when she poured her heart out to him only to watch him break it into pieces in front of her eyes.

"I care very little about what Gojo does these days." Mikazuki confessed honestly. "Though I am curious where it is you're going with this."

Satoshi turned, his expression completely changed into something the sorceress couldn't quite read. Despite being nothing but a poor copy of Satoru, there was something incredibly intense in that stare, something that shook her to her core, like a warning wrapped in pretty paper. It was all the intensity of the Six Eyes without any of the cursed energy behind it. Satoshi stepped towards Mikazuki, only stopping when he was mere inches apart from her, his mouth grazing her ear as he whispered his last warning.

"Stay out of my brother's life, killer."