𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓

THE CURSE SQUIRMED, a small trail of blood falling from its putrid mouth while its eyes looked up, something very similar to fear shining in them. Curses didn't experience fear, or at least, they weren't supposed to, but when being faced with someone like Gojo Satoru, all previously established rules melted away in less than an instant. Satoru didn't hesitate, pressing his mouth into a thin line as he let his cursed technique lapse: blue swallow whatever was left of the creature along with half of the empty Italian countryside.

The dust settled, the night air growing colder with each passing second. Satoru smiled, lowering his arms and hiding his eyes once again under the dark blindfold he always carried around. He didn't quite know why he had taken it off in the first place, as it was clearly unnecessary to fight the Curse he just disintegrated. Maybe he was growing bored of it.

Sensing the man was in a mood, Denki snorted, leaning against a random tree with his hands crossed over his chest, a knowing look on his face as he looked over to the giant crater the man had just left. The Magistrate wouldn't be pleased about that.

"You didn't need to tear it to shreds, you know." The Jujutsu sorcerer tried, already feeling the shift in the air as Satoru turned to face him.

The pair was currently on an assignment in the outskirts of Santa Caterina, near a small town that had seen a sudden spike in cursed spirits. Usually, Satoru wouldn't even bother using his abilities on such low level curses, but something inside of him was itching for a fight.

The sorcerer knew exactly what was ticking him off, but had decided not to acknowledge the feeling and to bury it instead, pretend it wasn't there at all. Denki sighed, rubbing his face tiredly before speaking again.

"This is not healthy, why don't you just speak with her?"

Satoru snorted, turning to look at the man in front of him. His stare was cold, even through the thick fabric of the blindfold, Denki could tell.

"I'd rather not." Satoru spoke, keeping his answer short and unwilling to delve into the matter anymore.

Denki didn't relent, he pushed himself off the tree walking until he was standing directly in front of the man. Satoru was taller, yet his usual slouching position always made them the same height. Denki's brown eyes remained trained on Satoru's blindfold, almost as he could see right through it. He couldn't, but his stare was purposeful enough to drive his point across.

"What are you afraid of?"

The air grew still, and, for a moment, Denki thought Satoru would push him back into the tree. Despite his usual pristine behaviour – the one expected from an heir –, he was still prone to violent outbursts from time to time, a fact that Denki was well acquainted with by now. Instead, the sorcerer remained still, hands balled into fists as a million emotions ran through his head.

Gojo Satoru was not afraid of anything, except maybe change. Change was the one thing he didn't know how to handle, especially when that specific change had nothing to do with him. Kinzoku Mikazuki was change. She was power, ruthless, relentless, unlike anything he had seen or felt before.

His Six Eyes could tell from the first moment he stepped into that chapel, Mikazuki was no longer the shy scared girl he'd learned to hate; the rival he'd sworn to surpass. No, she was something else entirely, and she didn't seem to care about him at all, a stark contrast with their last exchange before she was exiled, when she told him she loved him.

Satoru could still remember it, she had called him to the rooftop of the school, it was pouring rain, yet he went anyway. They were standing on opposite sides of the roof, at least thirty steps between them, afraid of repeating the incident of the previous month. Touching each other was dangerous, even then, when their abilities were undeveloped and raw.

It was in that solitary rooftop that Mikazuki had bared her heart and soul to Satoru before he shattered them both with a single sentence.

I love you.

Those were the last words Mikazuki had said to him before heading to the mission that would later doom her. And the last words he had said to her? Satoru cut down the thought, the words so cruel and uncaring he couldn't even bear to hear them, even now, even when they had come out from his lips so easily back then.

"It's not her what frightens me." Satoru said, his gaze fixed on the horizon, watching as the sun rose in the sky, shadows receding into corners of the open field as the light illuminated the ground. "But what comes next, what this means for us– The Magistrate, the world... all of it. When I looked at her, all I saw was this hollow emptiness in her eyes. It didn't feel human."

Denki nodded, suddenly understanding where this was going. Keisuke's death had put a series of events in motion, events neither the Jujutsu society or the rest of the world were ready for, and Kinzoku Mikazuki was at the centre of it all. The power she had gained, both during her exile and at her brother's death, had tipped the scale towards good. Something had to tip it back, and whatever that was... well, it couldn't be good.

The Jujutsu society believed in balance, and Mikazuki had disrupted it. Just like she'd done ten years ago, massacring the lives of thirty-seven sorcerers.

"Whatever it is, we will deal with it when the time comes." Denki assured, the waver in his voice barely audible. "There's only one of her and plenty of us."

Of course, Satoru noticed anyway. The sorcerer turned, hands buried deep in his pockets. His appearance was careless, yet Denki could sense his wariness, how tense his muscles were under all the clothes. Satoru was ready for a fight, always was and always had been. Even with his Infinity barrier up, even when he didn't have to worry about ever getting hit, he still readied himself.

"Isn't that what they said ten years ago? Look how that turned out." Satoru questioned, his expression unreadable as he stared at Denki. "She's always had the upper hand, what makes you think this time will be any different?

Denki hesitated, his stance shifting slightly at Satoru's low tone. Things were not going to be easy, the number of Curses had grown exponentially since Keisuke's death, and they would keep on growing for the next couple of weeks.

On the other hand, the number of Jujutsu sorcerers kept going down, with more sorcerers dying on overseas missions. The odds were stacked against them, they had been since the beginning, yet for some reason, the Jujutsu society prevailed.

"We'll win." Denki said again, this time there was no doubt in his voice. "We have you," He motioned to the man in front of him. "and, if we play our cards right, we might have Mikazuki. She doesn't need to be the enemy this time."

Satoru rolled his eyes, as if the mere idea of Mikazuki being something they could have was preposterous. Denki smiled, pulling out a cigarette and a golden-coated lighter with a familiar family crest printed on it.

"We'll be fine."