𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑺 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈 - 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌

KINZOKU MIKAZUKI BLINKED SLOWLY, her reflection flickering in the mirror of her vanity. It was Tuesday afternoon and the sorceress had spent most of the day going through the numerous proposals awaiting at her father's office. It seemed that neither her crimes nor the punishment she suffered at the hands of the Magistrate were awful enough to deter her future suitors.

It was almost as if they could smell the blood in the water, and like the sharks they truly were, they all came out to collect what they believed was their due. But Mikazuki didn't belong to no man, not even the one who could possibly become her future husband. The sorceress had received over half a dozen letters, all from upstanding families and their sons who wished to be chosen for the role, but it appeared none of them were powerful enough to peak the clan's interest.

Kinzoku Mikazuki was a special-grade sorceress, the heiress of the Kinzoku bloodline, a goddess in human flesh – she deserved a husband who fit the bill, not some half-assed sorcerer who wanted to have his station raised. Or at least, that's what Asahi and the clan elders believed. To Mikazuki, it was all a matter of perspective. As long as her father remained busy looking for the perfect match, he wouldn't have time to look over her shoulder and control her every move. As far as the sorceress was concerned, that was good enough of a trade-off.

Of course, as her father and the man at the head of both the clan and The Magistrate, Kinzoku Asahi was still pulling the strings of her destiny, but at least he was doing it from a safe distance, his hands as far away from Mikazuki's neck as possible. The sorceress craned her neck to the side, the mark of Asahi's fingerprints still visible on the skin, the place where his thumb had pushed against her trachea coloured in dark purple, a constant reminder of just how fickle her position was.

Mikazuki trained her hand through the bruise, the stab of pain nearly unnoticeable compared to the hatred she harboured within. One day, someday soon, she would kill Kinzoku Asahi, of that she was certain. No man had survived her wrath so far, and her father wasn't about to be the exception to that rule. All she had to do was wait for the right moment.

Akari fidgeted behind her mistress, the hairbrush nearly slipping out of her grip as she threaded through Mikazuki's grey locks. Her hair was dry and brittle, clumps falling off with each sweep of the brush. Then again, dead people rarely sported a head full of hair, so maybe this was for the better. The sorceress remained still, her almost naked body glowing under the candle light. She was wearing a robe, the long sleeves of the purple silk trailing at her hands while the black lace bodice she wore underneath could be seen through the sheer material.

The redhead stilled, her gaze flickering from Mikazuki's hair to the bite marks still crawling over her body. They were everywhere, climbing all the way from her legs to her torso, the small teeth etched into her skin as the memory of the cursed rats remained stuck to her psyche. It was a living nightmare, and yet none of it seemed to even touch the sorceress as she sat there, head cocked to the side while she surveyed the ring Satoru had given her a decade ago.

It felt like it was forever ago, yet at the same time, it was almost as if it only happened yesterday. She'd trusted him, once. It wouldn't happen again. In Mikazuki's eyes, Gojo Satoru's ring was just another one of his broken promises. He seemed to have a lot of those. The sorceress sighed, golden gaze setting on the mirror. She could see Akari working on her hair, and although the maid did her best to keep her focus on the task, Mikazuki could see the curious expression on her face.

"Stop that" Mikazuki commanded coldly, that Kinzoku flair slithering through her words like an accident she couldn't rid herself from.

Akari stumbled, brush tumbling from her grip and to the floor. The carpet muffled the sound, but when the maid didn't make a move to pick it back up, Mikazuki sighed. The sorceress leaned down, picking up the brush and setting it down beside the ring. Both objects were relics of another time, remnants of the past that had survived through hundred of years. The Gojo family ring which had once belong to Satoru's ancestors. The brush which had once combed through Kogane's wild blonde mane.

"I'm sorry, I don't–" Akari tried to defend herself, but before she could continue to speak, Mikazuki held her hand up, the gesture violent enough to shut the woman up in less than a second.

"I know you want to say something, I can see it in your eyes" the Kinzoku pointed out, her expression calm even as she played around with the brush, flipping it between her fingers like she often did her cursed blades "So, go on an say it"

It wasn't a challenge, yet it wasn't a simple request either. It was a command, the kind that could only come from a full blooded Kinzoku, a person so enthralled with privilege every one of their words drowned in it. Akari slumped, a defeated expression appearing on her face. There was anger, too. A simmering sort of ire that dwelled behind her red irises, awaiting to be set free.

"It's just– these wounds will take a long time to heal" she pointed towards the sorceress' back, the bites digging deep into her skin "I don't understand how this could have happened. I've seen you fight. I've trained with you. You're a great sorceress, you're not supposed to..." the redhead trailed off, unsure on what to say next.

Not that she needed to speak it out loud for Mikazuki to know. She'd known the moment Akari set eyes on her when she first came back home from the mission. She'd seen the pity in her gaze, the confusion and rage melted in the fire pit that was her stare. Mikazuki let out a hollow laugh, the sound so raw Akari could do nothing but weep, tears of frustration running down her cheeks.

"I'm supposed to... what?" she taunted, a hint of indignation in her tone "Be better? Stronger?" the sorceress asked mockingly.

Who was she mocking, exactly? Was it Akari's naïve questions, or was it herself? It was hard to say, and the sea of serenity and rage hidden within her gaze did nothing to clear it up. She was fury was much as she was hatred, and it all came crumbling down as the words left her lips.

"I might be a sorceress, Akari, but I'm still human" Mikazuki finally said, voice small "Humans make mistakes"

The redhead's anger flared and, for a second, Mikazuki saw a flash of red and hellfire flamed surround the woman like a halo.

"But this wasn't your mistake, was it?"

Ah. Mikazuki had kept quiet about the mission, just as The Magistrate's protocol requested, yet it seemed her servant had seen through the cracks of her composed presence nonetheless. Akari was right, of course. It hadn't been Mikazuki's mistake what had eventually turned out to be her downfall. Or maybe it was; she made the mistake of trusting him. She should have known better by now. The sorceress remained silence, Akari's words echoing through her mind like an endless spiral of self-hatred.

The servant stepped away from her mistress, eyes hard as she looked down at the sorceress.

"Gojo Satoru did this" Akari stated, not a hint of doubt in her tone.

Mikazuki opened her mouth, a retort already building in the back of her mind, but before she could say anything... to defend him? Justify him? Akari simply shook her head, expression falling as pity flooded her senses.

"You don't need to deny it, I can see it written all over your face" Akari spat, disappointment plaguing her tone even as she tried to contain it.

Mikazuki sulked, yet her expression remained unchanged.

"If you already know then why do you pester me with this pointless chat?" she asked with an annoyed look in her eyes.

"Because I don't understand" Akari explained, her tone turning soft "He was your fiancée, you were supposed to marry him one day, and yet he still betrays you at every turn"

Mikazuki stood there, thoughts spiralling through her mind; unhinged. What was she supposed to say? That she loved him? They both knew this, and whether it was still true or not, it didn't change what Satoru had done – what he'd taken away from her. But she couldn't explain it, nothing that would ever leave her lips would be enough to explain things.

She'd loved him, unconditionally. And wasn't that the problem, from the start? Gojo Satoru destroyed her, and she let him.

Every. Single. Time.