𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈 - 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃 (𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓)

THE PAVEMENT WAS SPLATTERED WITH BLOOD, the black goo covering the sidewalk barely visible with the constant rain and the haze of the veil the sorcerer had placed minutes early. Gojo Satoru straightened, looking down at the Curse with a grimace before taking in the rest of the darkened street, his blindfold hanging loosely around his neck as his uncovered eyes took in the mess.

It had taken both the strength of his Six Eyes and the mastery of Satoshi's Cursed technique to track the Vengeful Spirit, and although killing it hadn't been much of a challenge, Satoru couldn't help but wish the Curse fought back at least a little.

Gojo Satoshi scoffed, as if reading the thoughts of his elder brother. It was rare for the two of them to be sent out together, and although they both shared the gifts of the Gojo Clan, Satoshi was still only a first-grade sorcerer, meaning the assignment was well above his level of skill.

Not that the younger Gojo minded, even though he hadn't been blessed with the famed Six Eyes, he was still powerful enough to make most sorcerers look like toddlers playing around with wild pieces of untamed magic. Satoru waltzed over to the Curse, watching as its body slowly began rotting away into the cement the second its Cursed Energy ran out.

"That is quite the kill, Satoru-san."

Satoru whipped his head around, recognizing the melodical tone and looking past his brother's annoyed expression. Léa Dubois smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped into the bound of the veil, the Cursed Energy emanating from her like a soft blanket of tempest blue. She broke into the space easily, the walls of the veil Satoshi had placed quickly melting away before quickly snapping back shut.

The woman looked incredibly out of place, her polished pencil skirt and her Louboutin heels clacking against the cobble stone street with each step. Her lips were painted a perfect shade of red, the colour contrasting against her pale skin while the eyeliner around her eyes was sharp, making her look like an elegant feral cat in the wild.

The sorceress paused, eyeing the mess with a thoughtful expression before turning back towards Gojo.

"We could really use someone like you defending the streets of Paris on a regular basis."

Satoru groaned but didn't say anything. With the high of the chase and the adrenaline still pumping in his veins, he'd almost forgot he was standing in the fabled City of Love. Gojo didn't care about that sort of stuff, and he certainly didn't care about whatever Madame Dubois was here to say, which is why he snorted, a careful eye still watching his brother – although Léa wasn't a threat in on itself, Satoru didn't trust her for one second, and he especially didn't trust her when it came to his family. The man sighed, brushing a stray strand of silver hair out of his face.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I have no intent of becoming an expat."

It wasn't uncommon for sorcerers to travel from country to country, to wherever The Magistrate assigned them, however, it was unusual for sorcerers to make their stay permanent. The society of Jujutsu worked inside of a carefully planned balance, and the moment that equilibrium was broken, all hell broke loose.

Satoru knew this, he'd watched it happen at least twice before, and as a sorcerer, he knew he'd rather not see it again. Besides, shamans were tied by bonds that could not easily be undone, whatever magic ran through their veins just as strong as any unbreakable vow that could be made.

Léa pursed her lips, Satoru's words somehow distasteful enough to brand a permanently sour expression on her face. Instead of refuting his comment, the woman set her cat-like eyes on Satoshi, bowing her head as she forced a smile.

"I would like to have a private word with Gojo."

There was never a question to what Gojo she was talking about, especially when everyone knew she had little to no interest in the other three. Satoshi hesitated for a second, glancing towards his older brother before finally stepping out of the veil and into the busy street of Saint-Dominique. The air shifted as soon as he was out, Madame Dubois' extensive Cursed Energy enveloping the remaining pair like a cocoon.

Léa was far more powerful than she appeared – a well-crafted rouse, no doubt – yet her power paled in comparison to his. Except, that with her, it was never only her power, but that of the entire Council of Magistrates behind her every breathe. Taking her on would be foolish. As would agreeing to anything that woman ever said or did.

Sometimes, in moments like these, Gojo really did regret making that stupid oath.

"What do you want, Léa?" Satoru finally asked, not even bothering the mask the annoyance dripping from his words.

"It's not about what I want, mon chéri, but about what you can offer."

Léa smiled. It was not a kind smile, but a conniving gesture Satoru was more than used to. The woman sat on the half-wall, her face contorting into a grimace when her heels stepped on the black ichor still coating the street. The Curse squirmed, a last ditch effort to fight back despite the fact that it was clearly dead. Satoru looked at it, taking in the three rows of rotten teeth before kicking its head, watching as it fell back against the wall.

"Don't you find the timing of Kinzoku Mikazuki's return incredibly suspicious?" Léa continued, head resting on her palm as she surveyed the man in front of her, analysing his reaction just as carefully as she did everything else.

There was something calculating about that woman, something only someone truly French, and truly evil, could encompass. Satoru balled his hands into fists, ignoring the silent ache of his Cursed Energy at the mention of her name. Kinzoku Mikazuki – why couldn't he just be done with her? Now that their engagement was officially over, Satoru expected he would never hear her name again – of course, he was wrong, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that at the time.

"No, not really." He answered flatly while cleaning the blood off of his arms with the rain water. "Her twin is dead, it's only customary for her to return under these circumstances."

Léa's eyes twinkled, as if she'd just gotten a glimpse of something unexpected – something she could use against him. With the sorceress, it was always either that or something far worse, and Madame Dubois had learned long ago exactly what made Gojo Satoru tick.

"Is that what you truly believe? Or is it just something you tell yourself to avoid the inevitable truth?"

Satoru pressed his lips into a tight line, violently stalking towards the woman until he was right in front of her face. He was so close all Léa could see was the endless blue of his eyes along with the simmering power of the barely contained Cursed Energy boiling under his skin. He truly was a powerhouse, one she would not hesitate to use for her advantage.

"And what truth would that be?" He asked, voice shaking with unadulterated rage.

He didn't remember ever being so angry at someone – not even ten years ago when the world he knew tilted violently, nor three months ago when he was forced (at The Magistrate's request) to kill his best friend with his own two hands, the rain that came after not enough to wash off the blood that he could still glimpse with his Six Eyes. Léa didn't back down, craning her neck up and glaring at the man.

"We both know the circumstances of Keisuke's death are more than questionable." Her voice was hoarse, her thick French accent punctuating every word.

"He was killed by a curse."

"Yes, he was." Madame Dubois conceded easily. "But who sent it after him? It wouldn't be the first time Mikazuki allies herself with those... retched things."

Satoru rubbed his eyes, already feeling the headache he would suffer later He was already used to it, but that knowledge didn't make it any easier. The man paused, pulling up the blindfold as his eyes welcomed the darkness. He still didn't pull away, staring Léa down with the full intensity of his Six Eyes even through the thick fabric.

"Mikazuki might be many things, but she is not a killer."

"The thirty-seven lives she took ten years ago beg to differ." Her tone was biting, and for a second, Satoru felt the full force of the Cursed Energy that accompanied it. "Just think about it and ask yourself a simple question: how sure are you about her innocence?"

"You would travel across the city only to speak poison into my ear?"

"It wouldn't be poison if doubt didn't already exist somewhere in your mind." Madame Dubois hopped down from the wall, the veil around them dissolving like melting candy. "See you later, mon chéri."