𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈 - 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

GOJO SATORU STOOD IN THE UNUSUALLY QUIET OFFICE, hands behind his back as he straightened his spine and eyed the room warily. It was oddly silent, the only noticeable sound in the space being the sporadic chimes of the clock mounted on the wall. Satoru drew in a breath, a nervous jitter settling on his body. As always, his eyes were hidden behind a blindfold, yet he was still able to gaze at the clock, watching as the golden-painted hand did another full circle.

The Gojo heir had been waiting for over an hour now, and although he felt inclined to turn on his heels and abandon this place, he remained rooted to the spot, heart suffocated by the tight snares of the unbreakable vow he'd made more than a decade ago. Satoru remembered the day clearly, he'd been standing in a room much like this one, a hand over his heart while the other hovered over the old Jujutsu book. It had been a long time since, and although the boy never regretted his decision, he was beginning to doubt The Magistrate.

No, that was a bold-faced lie. Despite everything he'd seen, everything that happened since he first said those words, Satoru still believed in the righteousness of the holy Council of Magistrates. That wasn't what his heart rued. Instead, doubt crept in about something – someone else. Léa Dubois. It had always been hard to separate the woman from the institution, especially after so many years acting as its Head and spearheading all of its lesser branches. And yet, the more time that passed, the more hesitance Satoru could feel growing in the throes of his soul.

It was strange, the way in which doubt slowly slithered into his heart, carving a spot for itself so deep within his core there was no point in shaking it off. There was very little he could do about it, even as this shadow continued to grow over him, like long nails clawing at his insides each time things didn't add up. Satoru wanted to blame Mikazuki – it would have been easy to make her responsible for his sudden hesitation – but the truth was far more complicated than that and, truth to be told, the heir had doubts long before she returned from her exile.

Satoru closed his eyes, inhaling deeply while the clock chimed again, marking another half hour had passed. He wanted to leave, now more than ever. This place was far from welcoming, but today there was something eerily upsetting about the office. The Gojo heir adjusted his clothes, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to calm his nerves. Satoru didn't know why he was so jumpy, goosebumps running along his skin despite the unbearably hot climate. Working with Mikazuki often made him jittery, but never like this. Beside, the mission had gone without a hitch, and even when the sorceress stepped out to take a call, Satoru had tracked and exorcised the Curse with one swift move.

It was as routine as these things could get. And yet, that call... something odd had happened, stranger than the fire Satoru had felt seconds before when he was standing over Mikazuki, taunting her the moment he saw that wanton look in her eyes. It started as an innocent game, a terrible game of chicken in which neither of them wanted to lose, except the loss would be a cataclysmic event instead of whatever he'd been trying to convince himself of.

Satoru licked his lips, the memories rushing back so quickly he felt himself blush. They'd been so close; less than a step between them, a hot sizzling sound as their barriers clashed... then she got the call, and like he'd been stung, Satoru stepped away and pretended like nothing happened in the first place. It was easier like this – easier than admitting the hunger he saw in her eyes was mirrored in his.

"Daydreaming, are we?" Léa's shrill voice cut through his thoughts like thunder, Satoru's head snapping to her as the woman circled the desk. "I'd thought with you being a special-grade and all, you'd be more alert than this." The Head of the Magistrate sat down, smoothing her skirt over before a predatory smile formed on her burgundy lips. "Maybe the rumours are true and you're losing your edge."

Satoru balled his hands into fists, clenching his jaw as he reigned in his anger. The Jujutsu Society thrived in rumours like any other closed community, but even then, they both knew the words coming out of her mouth were nothing but fabrications. Gojo was The Strongest, a title he'd honed into perfection and which he had no intention of letting go any time soon.

Of course, Léa was cunning, and like the Indigo Eastern Snake, she was stalking her prey by laying an elaborate trap. The only person who wanted him to lose his edge was her, something the woman had made very clear from the moment she crafted his engagement to the Zenin girl.

"Apologies, Madame Dubois." Satoru spoke through gritted teeth as he bowed mockingly, an amused grin on his lips. "Had I known you'd be two hours late, I might have been paying more attention."

Léa's expression didn't change, her eyes sharp as always while her features remained hard. She was very well-dressed, as usual, her auburn hair pulled up in a neat updo while she wore a navy suit with a tailored vest. She was the pinnacle of professionalism, yet her predatory eyes revealed her true nature. Satoru kept his breathing even, wondering if she'd always been like this and he'd simply missed it. It seemed like he was missing a lot of things lately.

The Frenchwoman pursed her lips, annoyance written in her features.

"A sorcerer should always be alert, no matter the circumstance." Léa sighed, her expression somewhat softening as she rifled through her messy desk.

Although the woman was usually well organised, it seemed her office was submerged in chaos, with papers strewn all over the carpeted floor and her desk along with sticky notes plastered on every surface. Satoru had done his best no to snoop; he'd already made that mistake once and still had the scars to prove it. As if sensing his line of though, Léa tightened the threads that kept him under the influence of the vow, the barbed wire of the spell briefly suffocating his heart before she let go. Satoru caught his breath, pain spreading across his chest long after the woman enacted the bounds of her oath.

"Let's not overthink things, shall we?" She asked with a sickly-sweet tone. "That's not why I summoned you here, after all." The woman beamed, pulling out a file from her drawer before slapping the piece of paper on her desk, hand splayed on top of it. "I'd like to go over the report of your mission this morning, if that's all right with you."