𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 & 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐀 𝐆𝐨𝐣ō 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

ƥɭɑƴ ƥɽeʈeɳɗ

"Who are they?"

"Aslan and his little sister," Ijichi noted. Though he was surprised those were the first people his young master were curious of. Or that he was curious at all. Satoru did not socialise well with his age or social group even if his etiquette was perfect. He was perfect.

"Their parents are working on the new medical centre project with the clan, young master."

"They are siblings," Satoru noted he was right, as always.

"Yes."

"So they love each other?"

"You would suppose so, young master." Satoru's table was on top of the staircase leading to the gigantic park of the Gojō estate. It was cold during this December month but this special day showed sunlight and warmth. The servants said it was another proof that their young master was blessed.

One might think he was bored, he was actually observing. He didn't have much interaction with people if not for Ijichi, this gathering was more of a way to study humans under a social situation.

"I want it."

"I'm afraid I might not understand, young master." Ijichi switched gaze between young Satoru and the children downstairs. Aslan threw his sister in the air several times and if you concentrate you could hear the gentle sound of her laugh muffled under the overall commotion.

"Siblings," Satoru's gaze was fixed on the children. "I want them."

"I don't think that would be possible." Satoru could never have a blood sibling. It was against the rules.

"Are you saying no to me?" This was a threat clearly voiced by the young boy.

"That's not... I could manage something. They came here to celebrate you, I am sure they would be honoured to be in your company."

Satoru grunted something under his breath and dismissed Ijichi by the movement of his hand. A few minutes passed before Ijichi was summoned again. Satoru had spent the past time observing his guests, especially the loudest one. Giggling and running around with nobody but her brother. What was so funny?

"Ijichi?"

"Yes, young master."

"What is there to celebrate?"

Mr. Ijichi controlled his frown, he stared at the person in front of him. No one would consider the young master a child, it would be an insult. He was not like any other human; he was send by the Gods and blessed this family with his presence.

Or so was Satoru groomed to think.

"Your designation as next head of the family, young master." The housekeeper said behind her wagasa, she had been by Satoru's side since he was an ideal. She encouraged his existence, following tradition. And here he was. Perfect.

"But my cousins—"

"They aren't you, young master." The housekeeper interrupted him again, she was the only one who dared doing so. For now, Satoru was too young to understand her manipulative ways.

"But why—"

"You are Satoru Gojō," another sang. "The bravest," the lady on her right said. "The strongest," they harmonised.

Ijichi felt discomfort when he saw his young master's demeanour change. He sat up straighter, his chin higher but brushing his nose with his index— that small sign, discomfort. It was faint but Ijichi noticed it because he, unlike the housekeeper, knew Satoru beyond the ideal fantasy.

Ijichi had heard the melody of young master's laugh.

"Young master—"

Satoru interrupted Ijichi, "I am the strongest." He looked over his shoulder and his strong gaze connected with Ijichi. "Why should mortals doings be my concern."