𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐕 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

THE FIGHT WAS SHORT-LIVED, with both sorceress exhausted by the time the sun had already set behind the forested mountains of the Hokkaido wilds. Even with the visible gap in power, the young servant managed to keep up with Mikazuki's well-practiced pace. Whatever she lacked in power, the redhead made up in pure willpower and sheer intellect, always two steps ahead if not ten.

Mikazuki was impressed, it wasn't often that she had the chance to fight with someone skilled enough to keep up with her pace, let alone someone she could consider to be challenging enough. Although, just as she had said, Akari was incapable of summoning gold, whatever little Kinzoku blood ran through her veins not enough to give her the fabled abilities of the clan.

Instead, she summoned the brightest flames Mikazuki had ever seen. The flamed were bright yellow, the tips covered in a hint of amber and gold, they burned hotter than regular fire, melting the sorcerer's gold in more than once occasion.

The flames were familiar, and it was while dodging one of the redhead's attacks that Mikazuki realized why. They were the hellfire of the Rekka clan, who had been banished from the Jujutsu society following an incident almost three decades prior. They were pariahs, whatever was left of the once powerful bloodline scattered through Japan, Akari's father must have been one of the few clan members left after they were eradicated by The Magistrate.

Hellfire was dangerous, it burned unlike any other flame, its power coming straight from the underworld, easily capable of melting flesh, muscle and bone.

Still, in the end, Mikazuki won the match.

This was no surprise to anyone, considering Kinzoku Mikazuki was still hailed as the most powerful sorceress alive, especially now that Keisuke's own power ran through her veins, seamlessly melting into her own like the two had been meant to be together since the very beginning. It was the fate of the Kinzoku twins.

The sorceress stumbled, falling to the ground and trying to catch her breath while she glanced towards her opponent. Akari was in a similar predicament, lying on the gravel with her arms outstretched at her sides as she faced the sky. Both her body and clothes were covered in a thin layer of sweat mixed with leftover gold from Mikazuki's attacks. Her red hair was covered in it too, the gold shining under the blazing summer sun and viciously clinging to the wild strands of copper-coloured hair.

Akari pulled on one of the strands, eying the golden specks of liquid gold still sticking to her hair.

"Why is it so sticky? It feels like honey rather than gold." She complained while attempting to untangle the mess.

Mikazuki laughed, tipping her head back as the sound echoed throughout the training area. She too was rather mangled, with Akari's hellfire burning through her clothes and melting cloth and skin together. Most of the injuries were harmless, at least to someone like Mikazuki who could easily heal herself, but some of the burns appeared to be at least of second-degree. Akari had been careful not to hurt her too badly, Mikazuki was still her mistress and the Kinzoku heiress, and the servant would rather not face the wrath the clan head were she to injure his most prized possession.

Mikazuki seemed unbothered. Although her Cursed technique did not allow her to heal herself directly, she still healed faster than most sorcerers thanks to the gold in her blood, whatever Cursed through her veins alongside it strong enough to burn through any ailment she could possibly fall victim to. A sharp stab of pain shot up the sorceress' arm, the sensation so sudden and throbbing she was forced to look down, golden eyes widening the moment she saw the cracks that crawled up her forearms, shattering her skin like that of a porcelain doll.

It didn't take long for Akari to notice the change too, her face turning solemn at the sight. As part of the Kinzoku household, the servant had heard multiple times about power transference, a rare occurrence even in the world of Jujutsu. The event could only happen between identical twins, the kind that ran in the Kinzoku bloodline for as long as the clan had existed.

Two people, a single soul shared between them, a single well of power separated into two equal parts. For some reason, it could only happen after one of them passed away, in which case the other one would receive their departed twin's abilities.

Akari knew this. As did Mikazuki. The power inhabiting her body was not hers, not completely. The thought make her sick to her stomach. Keisuke was dead, and she was feeding from his ashes.

"Does it hurt?" Akari asked after a while, motioning towards the cracks even though she was well aware the subject was forbidden.

Although, maybe forbidden was not the right word. The Magistrate cared little for such subjects, which were so rare they only happened once every blood moon. No, the right word was discouraged.

Mikazuki didn't answer at first, the weight of the foreign gold inside of her so heavy she could barely breathe. She simply stood there, in the middle of the training area, the burning sensation in her arms spreading across her body as the golden cracks grew in size, branching out into smaller sections in a webbed pattern. It didn't hurt, at least not physically. It hurt in a different way. It hurt inside, in the deepest part of her soul, like something otherworldly yanking it back to the depths of hell.

"Sort of." She answered instead, her mouth dry. "It's like when you have a fever, you know something is wrong but you can't really put your finger on it. You can feel it all over, spreading like a sickness."

Her explanation was vague, but Akari nodded anyway. Twins ran in the Kinzoku family, and just like Mikazuki, she too had one. Her brother worked for The Magistrate, much like every other Jujutsu sorcerer in the area. He mostly worked out of the Kinzoku School for the Gifted, although he sometimes commuted to Tokyo to work at Jujutsu Tech as well. Rekka Denki was a very busy man, as it often happened with first-grade sorcerers.

Akari had barely spoken to him in the past couple of years. When it came to Jujutsu abilities, Denki inherited them all while she only came into the lesser powers that the Hellfire Clan, as it had been dubbed, had to offer. Still, she couldn't imagine losing him like this and then gaining his powers. After all, he was still her brother and she his sister.

Akari remembered Kinzoku Keisuke very well; he was kind, far kinder than the rest of inhabitants of the estate. He spent less time there, mainly came in to visit his siblings and for meetings with the clan elders. Where did he go, when he wasn't at the house? Akari didn't know, she had never been bold enough to ask, even as she spied the faded lipstick on Keisuke's neck, always the same shade of terracotta brown.

"You must miss him a lot. I could never imagine– I don't know what I would do." Akari spoke, carefully gauging the reaction of the woman in front of her.

Mikazuki smiled, holding her hand over the space where her heart should have been, the giant hollowness of it barely registering as her fingers grazed her ribcage.

"I do. And I hope you never find out." She paused, facing the young servant once more. "He didn't deserve to die like this, I wouldn't wish his death on my worst enemy."

He really didn't. Mikazuki had read the report of her brother' death, most of it had been redacted seeing as her status as sorceress hadn't been reinstated yet, but she was still able to read between the lines. Kinzoku Keisuke had been murdered by a Vengeful Cursed Spirit, a special-grade Curse, as if he were still a school boy running away from his responsibilities, easily being taken down by the Curses he was supposed to fight.

Twisted – that was what the report had referred to it as. Mikazuki chuckled at the thought. Not as twisted as she was going to make it, once she caught it and pulled its insides out.

No mercy, no remorse. Just like all those years in the woods.

They were cruel, the thoughts that trickled through her mind. So cruel Mikazuki sometimes wondered if she was worthy of being a sorceress, or if maybe she had more in common with curses than she liked to admit.

Maybe hatred was a curse in on itself, and if that was the case, then she was definitely and irrevocably Cursed.

Maybe her hatred had already eaten up her soul, corrupted her heart, and this was the empty husk that had been left behind.