GOJO LICKED HIS LIPS, expression shifting wildly while he waged his own internal battle. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart, but just as quickly as it came, it went. Despite everything he and Mikazuki shared – their common past, their broken engagement – he still owed her nothing. Not a single thing. Satoru had spent the last month barking at his brother, declaring the Kinzoku as his, but the truth was somehow different. Mikazuki wasn't his, just like he wasn't hers.
The realization hit him like a train, the reality of it leaving him reeling for a couple of seconds until he finally found his bearings and bared his teeth at her.
"This..." The Gojo heir licked his lips, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "This has nothing to do with Kei." His eyes became hard and cold as ice. "Or with you, for the matter."
The words came out harsher than he expected, yet Mikazuki didn't flinch like he thought she would. Instead, the grey-haired woman stood her ground, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to protect herself from his words which bit at her skin like armoured bullets. Everlasting wouldn't be able to protect her from the vitriol that was about to come from him, neither would her usual emotional armour.
Satoru was tired. He was tired of hearing her name, of existing in the same space as this woman who had broken him so thoroughly over a handful of months and a couple of misguided words. He was tired of her games with The Magistrate and all of the chaos she brought with her.
Kinzoku Mikazuki was a fucking hurricane, and Gojo Satoru was getting tired of the aftermath. Satoru pursed his lips, anger slowly seeping from him. Mikazuki hardened her expression, pretending she couldn't feel his emotions bubbling over and spilling onto the empty space between them.
"Not everything in this universe is about you." Satoru spat, his words matching the cruelness of his stare. "I have a life and problems of my own. You're not the only one battling demons, you know?"
His mind was a mess, his brain wrought with chaos. It would have been easy to blame it on Mikazuki, but things had been spiralling down since before her arrival. Everything had gone to shit the moment Léa Dubois walked unannounced into his home, breaking the news of his engagement.
His fucking engagement. Sometimes, Satoru wondered if it had nothing to do with politics and everything to do with Léa wanting to remind him of his place. It didn't matter that he had no desire to have a bride, a wife or any heirs. It didn't matter what he wanted, because it was always what Léa wanted.
And yet, he'd die to defend that woman and the institution she represented. Because it was engraved on his heart, because he was bound to her in chains, because she quiet literally owned him.
Mikazuki inhaled deeply arms falling slack at her side while her stare softened. She looked at him differently, pity visible in her golden orbs.
"Then talk to me. Tell me something. Anything." The sorceress pleaded.
Satoru averted his eyes, ruing the expression written all over her face. He didn't want pity; he didn't want empty sympathetic words. All he truly wished was to be free. Free of Léa. Free of Sene. Free of Mikazuki and every other woman trying to control him and his emotions. Mikazuki froze, catching that brief plea on his gaze, but before she could say anything, Satoru shook his head and cleared his throat.
"We're not friends, Mikazuki." He spoke clearly, a defeated look on his face as he stared directly at her. "You're the one who said it first, and you were right." Satoru straightened his shirt, adjusting his backpack before resuming his walk.
He didn't want to settle this discussion, and all the fight he had left him a while ago. He was tired, empty and done. The finality of it should have scared him, instead, he felt free, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Before, everything seemed like too much; all of his obligations, his position as clan heir, even his marital duties once he married Eshima. Now, he felt weightless. Satoru paused, looking back at Mikazuki one last time, all of the light gone from his beautiful ocean eyes.
"We're here to do a job, not to play house and be friends. If you want a confidant or someone to gossip with, then call Shoko." He shrugged, not waiting for a response as he continued on his path. "It's late, and we have recon to do after we arrive. Save all this energy for when we have to fight The Beldam."
Instead of wasting it on fighting each other, he didn't say. Mikazuki pursed her lips, expression wrought with worry and annoyance as she sped up her pace, trying to catch up with him despite her left leg dragging behind.
"I have no idea what's wrong with you, but I'm getting sick of your attitude." She called, cursing the broken wheel of her suitcase and the warped scar on her leg while Satoru's figure quickly disappeared in the distance.
He didn't wait for her, and although Mikazuki was a big girl, something about that broke her soul into pieces. It was like she was in that tunnel all over again, rats gnawing at her ankles. Like she was standing on the chapel, a jury of fifty-nine people witnessing her punishment for a crime she did not commit. She'd been here before; she should have gotten used to it by now. Somehow, it still hurt.
"Besides," She continued, voice rising in an attempt to reach Satoru. "it's almost ten, are you seriously expecting us to dive into the forest at this hour?"
The man turned, an annoyed expression on his face as he looked at her.
"Fine, then we'll do it tomorrow. First light."
Mikazuki balled her hands into fists, everything she had been feeling before evaporating and being replaced with red hot anger at the boy – because that was no man – standing in front of her.
"Fine, then." She matched his energy, hoping her tone didn't betray the anger currently running through her veins and fuelling the gold inside of her. "Tonight, we get rest and prepare ourselves, and tomorrow... Tomorrow we hunt."
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𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru
Fanfiction❝𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅❞ "Maybe I wanted him to touch me." Satoru didn't think, holding her wrist with one hand and pitting her arm over her head and against the wall while his other palm push...