THE KOGANE MANOR – JUST LIKE MIKAZUKI HAD EXPECTED – WAS FAR SMALLER THAN THE MAIN HOUSE AT THE KINZOKU ESTATE, yet it was still larger than her hotel room (where most of her belongings still remained) and that the cabin she had spent the past decade living in. It was also subtler than the main house, with less gold and black and more neutral tones like beige and dark brown, the original cedar wood still visible.
The garden was also separate, with its own training grounds, albeit smaller than the ones at the main house or than the house settled directly behind the cemetery. The manor also came with a beautiful pond filled with koi and water lilies that floated at the surface. There were no separate servant quarters, which is why Mikazuki had simply donated three of the bedrooms on the ground floor to the handful of servants that would accompany her for the foreseeable future.
The sorceress was not set to move in for another couple of days and most of her stuff was still in Argentina. The hotel room was still rented, yet Mikazuki knew it was unlikely she would be sleeping there anytime soon. Now that the contract had been signed and with her pardon in the works, Mikazuki was officially the Kinzoku heiress, meaning things – such as residing in the Kinzoku Estate and resuming her duties as a fully-fledged sorceress – were expected of her now.
Mikazuki groaned, pulling at the hem of her kimono sleeve with a displeased expression on her face. She was wearing a variation of the traditional attire of the Kinzoku; a black kimono with golden trimming and, in her case, white peonies stitched to the fabric. It was no ordinary kimono either, but a unique piece of couture, not that Mikazuki particularly cared about that last part.
Each member of the clan, regardless of their social standing or current situation, had a flower assigned to them at birth. For Mikazuki it was peonies, the white ones that bloomed in early spring. For Keisuke, it had been hydrangeas, the kind that grew wild in the greenhouse.
The sorceress hadn't worn anything like this in over a decade, and if she was being honest, she hadn't missed it in the slightest. Kinzoku clothes had never suited her – not when she was a skinny raven-haired teenager, and certainly not now that she had more curves and lifeless grey hair. The kimono didn't fit right; her chest was too big, her hips too wide, the cloth hung weirdly around her thighs. It made her feel like she was wearing the curtains that hung from the window instead of the traditional family attire it actually was.
The servant – whose name she had learned to be Akari – quickly swatted her hand away, making sure the kimono remained spotless before the farewell ceremony. As the twin of the deceased, all eyes would be on her. The fact that she had been in exile for ten years did not help the matter, everyone was clamouring to get a good look at the outcast. It was disgraceful, they should be focusing on Keisuke, he was the one who was dead, the one who would never come back and make his horrible jokes, hitting on whatever girl was available and smiling at dogs when they passed by.
It was supposed to be a funeral, not a debutante ball.
Mikazuki's gaze travelled to the window, watching as the sun started to set in the distance, its rays illuminating the garden of the manor and the hydrangeas planted around the pond. Even in death, Keisuke was still looking over her. There were still a couple of hours until guests started trickling in, which meant Mikazuki would have to endure the unfortunate outfit for even longer than necessary. It also meant her brother's corpse would be lying inside that chapel, cooking under the heat, for at least two additional hours.
The thought made her squirm, but once again, Akari's callused hands stopped from fussing too much and ruining her attire.
Mikazuki caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was nearly unrecognizable, her unruly lifeless grey hair pulled into a messy bun with a thin hair stick pinning it in place. The kimono, despite ill-fitting, still hugged all her curves in a mildly flattering way, exposing part of her white tights and black heels, although they were only two or three inches high.
She was wearing black and gold, and even if the yellow hue was barely noticeable, she could still tell it was there. They were the clan colours, after all. Wearing them made her sick to her stomach, but refusing would have enraged her father, and she'd rather not poke the beast if she could help it. At least for now, anyways.
Mikazuki took a deep breath, fighting down the bile rising in her throat and staring at her reflection once again. As the new clan heiress, the clan elders had seen it fit for her to have her own space, although the sorceress was convinced this was just her mother refusing to be in the same vicinity as her. Then again, she couldn't really blame her for not wanting to associate herself with a convicted murderer, because – despite the fine clothes and the expensive jewellery, that's exactly what Kinzoku Mikazuki was, what she made herself into.
Her bedroom, the room she was currently standing in, was the second biggest of the manor, with the largest one being reserved for when she would eventually choose a fitting husband from the pool of outstanding gentleman the elders would propose to her.
For her to sleep there on her own, unmarried, would be a sacrilege. Far be it for Mikazuki to tell them she'd already sinned her way to hell.
Akari paused her ministrations, straightening her back and pulling away a strand of red hair as she admired her masterpiece.
"You look beautiful, Mikazuki-sama." She pointed out, her voice soft but still loud enough to bring the sorceress back to reality,
Mikazuki hummed, watching as Akari stepped on a wooden stool, placing a diadem of small black diamonds on her perfectly brushed hair, the darkness of the jewels contrasting with her grey curls and the golden pins holding everything in a nearly perfect updo.
Truth to be told, Mikazuki had never thought of herself as beautiful. Not when she was eighteen, still a child in everything but age, and certainly not now, at nearly twenty-eight years old. She'd learned to love herself and the many scars that wrapped themselves around her body, but not to the point of referring to herself as a masterpiece.
But she was beautiful, not in the way that most Japanese women were. Not in the way she used to be.
She used to be petite, her black hair always falling over her face like a dark curtain, with the tips poorly dyed a dirty blonde. Her golden eyes could enrapt any man, even when she used to wear those ugly paste glasses over them.
But now, she looked completely different. She was tall, taller than most of the members of the clan aside from a couple of the males, her father included. Her chest had grown bigger, her thighs were thicker, her hips wider as well. She wasn't as thin as she used to be, which considering she was ten years older, was not that surprising.
She was still beautiful, but in a more mature way. She had grown into the woman everyone expected her to be, and more.
"A crown?" Mikazuki questioned, eyeing her reflection with a grimace. "They really are trying to sell the narrative, aren't they?" She asked, now turning towards the servant.
She had spent too much time seizing herself up in the mirror, thinking of things that were not worth her time. Mikazuki pointed to the diadem on her head, the object felt heavy and it was hard to keep her head from lolling forward. The stones were definitely real, though considering how the Kinzoku made their fortune, it wasn't that big of a deal. Akari sighed, brushing a bunch of stray hairs from the sorceress' face with a mournful expression.
"Hide-sama insisted on it."
Ah, so she didn't have a choice, then.
Mikazuki didn't react, yet she could feel the gold on her hands, simmering under her fingertips, begging to be released so it level the entire Kinzoku Estate, willing to take everyone and everything with it. As much as the thought was appealing, she reigned it in, feeling as the gold settled back.
"What about my things?" Mikazuki asked, straightening the diadem while carefully watching herself in the mirror, making sure the accessory wasn't crooked.
Although it wasn't a crown, the sorceress knew that was exactly what it was bound to represent. She was going to be the heiress of the most powerful clan in the world, she was the closest thing to a princess, or even a queen, that the Jujutsu society had ever had. She should play the part, if only to infuriate the clan elders for a bit longer, maybe even her dad if she played her cards right.
"The ones I left in Argentina, I mean." She clarified at Akari's puzzled expression.
The servant nodded, the golden lines painted on her skin shinning as the candlelight illuminated the room. Mikazuki wondered how long it took to draw those lines each morning, how important his father deemed it for his servants to bear them in the first place. It seemed unnecessary and a complete waste of time, not that she would ever bring it up to him.
"Someone will be sent to retrieve those, though it might be a while until then." Akari's eyes skimmed over Mikazuki, as if she was debating whether to speak or to stay silent. "Not everyone can teleport as far away as you can."
Her tone was soft, with no real reproach or jealously in her words. The ability to teleport was rare in itself, even within a clan such as the Kinzoku. Mikazuki was the only member who could do it properly, disappear in one blink and reappear somewhere else, anywhere in the world. She didn't have to worry about range, or distance, or any of the things that most Kinzoku struggled with.
She could go everywhere in the world with a mere flicker of her fingers, something she knew her father had always been envious of. She truly was indomitable. Or maybe not so much, considering she could go everywhere in the world with a mere flicker of her fingers, but she was still a prisoner of her own blood.
The bells of the chapel chimed, announcing the beginning of the preparations for the ceremony. Akari excused herself, quickly stepping down from the stool and arranging the mess of make-up and hair products that laid on the bed, not that she had been able to convince Mikazuki to wear any of it. Like the rest of the servants, Akari was expected to help with the arrangements, making sure the garden was up to the task and that the refreshments table was tended to, the red carpet rolled on the gravel path and the lanterns lit for the occasion.
Jujutsu funerals were a big undertaking, the rite of passage to the next life had to be carefully prepared, lest the soul of the departed get lost on its way and reappear as a cursed spirit instead. It was the worst possible outcome for a Jujutsu sorcerer, one Mikazuki would not allow for her brother. Keisuke deserved better. Mikazuki bid her goodbyes with a simple curtsy, heading towards the door with sure steps as she headed to the chapel.