𝑫𝒀𝑵𝑨𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑺 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈 - 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

HIMARI DOUBLED OVER IN PAIN, the sound of her heavy breathing enveloping the otherwise silent chapel. The woman panted, hand pressed against the empty socket of her left eye, its insides and a mess of nerves tangled between her fingers as golden blood continued to drip onto the floor. Mikazuki stood on the opposite side of the room, her stare hard as she surveyed the woman in front of her with a cold glare. She was lifeless, the spark that always ignited in her quiet sunset eyes gone and replaced by absolute calmness, the stillness of her golden orbs another reminder of the last shred of humanity she'd just turned her back on.

She was so quiet it was unnerving, and even as Himari made an effort to gather the bundle of nerves and shove it back into her now empty eye, she could still see that eery detachment washing over Mikazuki's face. It was like a punch to the gut, an inexplicable sense of dread settling over the older Kinzoku's bones, the weight so heavy she could barely stand it. How could this woman, this child who Himari had nurtured for so long, turn her back on them so easily?

It was cruel and, yet, Himari wasn't surprised in the least. It wasn't Mikazuki's fault – not really, at least. She was the result of centuries plagued with lies and hatred, her legacy that of a massacre she couldn't even begin to comprehend. The story of the Kinzoku was drowned in blood, how could she fault Mikazuki for learning how to swim in it? This clan was pure chaos, yet her precious granddaughter had learned to navigate through it. Kinzoku Mikazuki did not run from the storm, she sailed through it. Hell, she was the storm.

"You– How could you do this to me?" Himari wailed loudly, her screams echoing in the vaulted ceiling as she bent over and pushed her palms into the bloodied empty socket of her eye. "To me! To your grandmother?" She continued to scream, huffing and puffing while the pain turned into blinding and searing hot agony.

Silence. Mikazuki had ruined her life and any possible prospects for the future, and all she got was silence. Himari let out another scream, pain fading from her senses as a sense of pure anger washed over her instead. The woman looked up again, the golden blood smeared all over her face reflecting the moonlight that cascaded down the skylight. She stood there, watching her granddaughter while the fury continued to spread through her body like a simmering pot of vegetables, the roots growing through her like snares picking apart the pieces of her soul.

Himari stepped forward again, waxed shoes stumbling against the marbled floor while she dragged herself across the room. The mix of emotions continued to flow through her, the unadulterated anger and the pain turning into a jumbled mess while furious tears mixed with the blood from her now ruined eye.

"I have been by your side since you were a child! I raised you. I made you!" She stumbled forward, knees colliding with the cold hard floor before she blindly reached out with her hands until she grabbed the hem of Mikazuki's dress, holding it in her fists and wailing at her feet.

I made you. The sorceress pondered over the words, their taste somehow feeling acrid in her tongue even as she stood in front of her grandmother, Himari's hand still grappling at her dress like a desperate whore. Mikazuki clicked her tongue, allowing the words to sink in slowly. Part of her wanted to call out her grandmother's lie, but then again, there wasn't a hint of dishonesty in Himari's confession.

Himari was the only one who had stood by her side, even when everyone else turned their backs on her. She was the one who stayed up until late watching her train from the porch, she was the one that would sit by her bed and read her stories. She was the mother Hide never was, and yet, none of this was enough to plug the leaking hole her betrayal had left behind on Mikazuki's heart.

The Kinzoku heiress huffed, moving away from the woman and watching as Himari stumbled back into the ground, falling on her knees in a poodle of her own blood. The sorceress sighed, shoving a strand of hair out of the way and looking down at the woman with a wholly unbothered expression. There was nothing in her golden eyes; no guilt, no remorse. Somehow, this was worse than the quiet storm unravelling Himari had become used to after her return. Somehow, Mikazuki's anger was easier to bare – easier than this.

"And I am not denying it." Mikazuki spoke casually, her quiet words sounding awfully too loud for such a silent room.

A satisfied smile played on her lips, her golden gaze still perched on her grandmother as she watched her crawling on the floor and gasping for air. She could imagine the pain. Hell, she could almost taste it along with the stale air of the chapel. This moment, watching Himari lose herself and her dignity like this, should have hurt. It should have made her feel something. Instead, Mikazuki simply smiled, the corners of her mouth bending upwards.

"You are the only person I trusted in this family." Mikazuki droned on, a choked sound building in the back of her throat before her face fell and the blank stare settled back into her features. "Which is why your betrayal cannot go unpunished."

Himari was still on the floor, yet she pushed past the pain and the humiliation, crawling across the surface and smearing more blood around before her fist closed around Mikazuki's dress once again. Her hold was nothing but dead weight, yet it was still strong enough to make the sorceress pause. Mikazuki's golden stare turned towards the floor, her sunset eyes surveying Himari with a mixture of disgust and appreciation. It was impressive, truly. This pathetic excuse of a woman was still trying to tear her down, even when she knew there was nothing to be done, even when she knew Mikazuki's power would suffocate her if she so desired.

Himari's attempts were insignificant, like a small ripple in the calm lake that was Mikazuki's endless well of power. There was nothing left of her grandmother, her own power dwindling as she crawled like the pitiful example of a human she was. All of the fight, all of the power that had made her Clan Head and one of the strongest members of the clan... it was all gone, her fire turned to ashes which turned to dust before disappearing altogether.

Mikazuki could see it clearly, the gold in Himari's blood no longer vivid and fluid but hard and darkened. Himari was the last bastion of the Kinzoku, a relic of times past. There were others, of course, but none quite as powerful as she was, none as skilled as she'd become. The clan elders were just a speck of dust when compared to Himari, and when compared to Asahi... there was no comparison to make. Himari was their last line of defence and, once she was dealt with, there would be no one powerful enough to defend Asahi and his cracking empire.

He was the goal, the long-term objective and the only reason why Mikazuki had agreed to continue playing by his rules. One day – someday soon, hopefully – she would use the position and the power he'd given her and stab him in the back.

Just like Asahi and everyone she used to care about had done.

Kinzoku Asahi's empire would burn and Mikazuki would set the first flame. She was the spark before the tragedy, the omen before the funeral.