𝑫𝒀𝑵𝑨𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑺 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈 - 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑, 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑

NOTHING WAS GOOD ABOUT TONIGHT. Not the beautiful black gown tightly hugging Kinzoku Mikazuki's curves. Not the fairy lights the servants had spread through the gardens, lighting the way to the ballroom while Keisuke's grave was shrouded in darkness near the greenhouse. Not the delicate golden lines painted across her face, the clan's signature colour nicely standing against her pale skin.

Mikazuki swallowed a sigh, eyelids fluttering while Akari expertly brushed over the subtle freckles that adorned her pale face, a trail of gold paint following the swirling pattern. The sorceress could barely remember the last time she had worn the traditional Kinzoku ornamental decorations and the weight of the gold felt heavy and cold against her aging skin. Nothing about it brought back good memories. Instead, her mind spiralled down a dark rabbit hole, the memories of her last birthday within the clan briefly flashing through her minds.

Ten years in exile could never erase that day – nor the consequences that followed for her imprudence and the punishment she received. Even then, Mikazuki should have known better. Still, she was young, a freshly freed girl who knew nothing of the harsh truths the world had to offer. Eighteen hadn't been kind to Mikazuki, yet the sorceress doubted that twenty-eight would be any different. The sorceress took a deep breath and as Akari step back to observe her work, the woman's golden gaze briefly settled on the full-body mirror that lined the wall.

Here she was, ten years later and in the exact same position as she had been then. Well, not exactly – she had a plan now, one that would ensure the ruin of her father's empire and the death of the Kinzoku bloodline.

Something about that felt right, as if it was her God-given duty; the reason why she was put on this earth. Everything Kinzoku Mikazuki had done – everything she had endured, lead to this one single moment in time. This was her true duty, not serving the selfish whims of The Magistrate nor bow down to the clan elders.

They would all burn down in hell while she watched from her flaming throne. No amount of gold would save them, either.

She could see it clearly, that delicate flame that carried the hopes of her plans burning in her irises, flickering lightly among the pure gold that dominated over her gaze. Nothing would ever be able to take that from her, not even when she was trapped inside this gilded cage playing the part of the dutiful daughter and remorseful sorceress.

Mikazuki's thoughts were quickly snuffed out as Akari walked behind her again, arranging the delicate jewels that had been placed to pin her hair in place one last time. Meanwhile, Nina kneeled in front of the sorceress, carefully fixing the hem of the skirt of her gown and smoothing down the fabric. The wood creaked, and although a gush of cold air rushed through the room, none of the women noticed the man suddenly standing by the door.

Kinzoku Asahi remained silent, arms crossed over his chest while his golden eyes surveyed his daughter. Mikazuki was far too busy daydreaming about her goals to notice him, a fact of which he took full advantage of. It wasn't often that he caught her unaware, her inhibitions down – as well as the impenetrable walls of her Eternity. Asahi's chest rose with each breathe, yet his eyes remained trained on the grey-haired woman, lips pursed in deep thought.

The young heiress hadn't been the only one who was primed and ready for the party. The man himself, Asahi, was also donning his finest robes – a mix between traditional Japanese kimono and a modern suit, and although he wasn't wearing the clan colours and only gold and yellow trim, there was something regal about his appearance and the way he held himself, black hair slicked back while his golden eyes glimmered in the dim light.

Asahi took a deep breath and leaned against the doorframe, unable to take his eyes from his daughter. He was holding something in one of his hands – an elongated black velvet box, the sigil of the Kinzoku branded on top, the gold burned into the soft exterior of the box.

"You look so much like her" he said breathlessly, finally announcing himself to the trio.

Mikazuki's head snapped towards him, blood running cold the moment her gaze collided with his. Asahi smiled, somewhat pleased he had been able to go unnoticed for so long. Maybe she was getting careless, a little too comfortable for someone who had been cast out of her own home, rejected for a crime she did not commit. The woman swallowed past the lump in her throat, her gaze turning just as cold as the blood currently running through her veins. She didn't bother asking who her was, the glazed look on her father's face said it all for him.

He was talking about Miyazaki, her aunt – his twin, whom he murdered in cold blood.

It didn't feel like a compliment, but it also lacked Asahi's usual tone of disdain. He said it with a hint of surprise, like he expected something else altogether yet couldn't deny the truth when his gaze settled on her once again. This wasn't one of his matter of fact comments or observations, but something he knew to be true. Asahi stayed by the door, looking at Mikazuki like it was the first time he saw her. Maybe it was.

"Father" she greeted coldly, her tone even.

He nodded towards her, finally stepping into the room before his eyes settled fleetingly on the other two women. Kinzoku Asahi was a very imposing man, his tall figure towering over them while his eyes carried an unusual darkness. However something about him felt soft on that day. There was a tenderness in his eyes, in the way he looked at her, how his eyes crinkled, like he couldn't quite believe she was there to begin with. Couldn't believe she was real.

"I'd like to have a word with my daughter" he commanded casually but curtly enough to make himself clear.

The two women nodded, scurrying out of the room with relief written in their gazes as they carried the leftover fabric and the unused make-up. Once they were out of the room, Asahi smiled. The man turned, quickly closing the door and turning the lock, the clicking sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. Mikazuki rolled her eyes and stepped down from the platform, the heavy gown trailing behind her like a carpet of pure shadow mixed with starlight and golden glitter. She adjusted her dress, refusing to meet her father's gaze and occupying herself with the sheer black sleeves of her outfit instead.

"There was no need to kick them out, you know?" she gritted between her teeth and, although her tone was relatively soft considering the person she was speaking to, there was also an audible wariness hiding behind her words.

"I thought you'd appreciate the quiet" Asahi spoke calmly, his tone almost nurturing.

Mikazuki scoffed, opting to not believe a single word out of this man's mouth. Asahi was a practiced liar, and the sorceress refused to be fooled by this poor attempt at fatherhood. Too little too late for that, anyway. Still, the Kinzoku heiress smiled, hoping the façade would be enough to deter Asahi from saying more.

Somewhere deep inside her mind, Mikazuki had this idea that maybe, if she played the part of the dutiful daughter and the respectable sorceress, everything would be okay. But just like she couldn't be fooled by Asahi's placid smile, neither could he by her lame attempts and playing her part. The man rolled his eyes, walking across the room as he took in the décor. The Kogane Manor was different from the main house – a lot less gold and more soft wooden tones. It was what caught her eye in the first place.

"I forgot how homely this room was" Asahi began with a quiet tone before he paused, eyes lingering over Mikazuki and watching her closely "Did you know these used to be Miyazaki's personal quarters? She only stayed for a couple of months before her passing, but she insisted in decorating the whole place to suit her taste" he traced the wall with his finger, nail digging into the golden wallpaper and peeling it slightly, exposing the wooden panelling under it.

Mikazuki cleared her throat and Asahi straightened his back. He turned towards her, observing her with an unreadable expression.

"I know I don't say this often but, contrary to popular belief, I do love you, Mikazuki"