𝑫𝒀𝑵𝑨𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑺 ⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐕 - 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

KINZOKU MIKAZUKI GLIDED DOWN THE STAIRCASE, her hand gripping the delicate railing while the train of her midnight tress trailed behind her, the lights of the chandelier glowing in the surface of the pitch-black fabric before dancing against the dark silk like fallen stars. The sorceress remained calm; chin held up high even when the cut across her neck was barely concealed under a poor layer of make-up. Mikazuki didn't mind, eyeing the crowd with a confident stare as she continued to walk down the stairs. She looked like a goddess descending from the heavens, either to bring peace or to smite them all with her righteous anger.

Satoru gulped down, hand nervously fidgeting against his pants as his ocean eyes followed her every step. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't the only one completely taken by the sorceress. Instead, everyone in the room held their breaths, watching as the de facto Queen of Nightmares made her descent, the gold in her eyes like an oncoming storm against her delicate expression. Eshima wiggled her fingers, she too stunned by the display as she perched her perky brown eyes on the woman, the envelope crushing under the weight of her anxious fingers.

Mikazuki smiled, greeting the mob of sorcerers and members of The Magistrate with a polite nod. Satoru narrowed his eyes, recognizing the stillness in her gaze along with the slight twitch in her upper lip. Mikazuki was a skilled liar, but even she was struggling to put on a performance for the people. He could feel the rage inside of her, simmering like a pot about to overflow. And yet, she quenched it down quickly, turning to greet the rest of patrons with a placid and decidedly fake cordial smile.

The woman clearly rued her role as heiress, yet she was extremely skilled when it came to playing it. Like she had been born to wear the crown, the same one she'd escaped ten years ago and that now laid heavily on her head like the burden her twin brother had succumbed under. Satoru remained still, eyes then landing on the clear cut across her neck, a startling reminder that Mikazuki was, in fact, vulnerable. She wore it well, though, walking through the crowd like an impenetrable fortress despite the weakness that had been carved into her skin.

Mikazuki shuddered under his gaze – even here, in the middle of a crowded room and under the scrutiny of over three-hundred people, she could feel him watching – before leaning down to pick up a flute of champagne filled to the brim. The woman turned towards the mob of eager faces and pulled her glass up as a devilish smile played on her lips.

"Thank you so much for coming to celebrate my birthday." She began with a majestic tone that was perfectly matched by the rhinestones lining her neck and the diamonds intertwined with the bodice of her midnight gown. "I know these are difficult times and that we have suffered great losses this year, but I am honoured you've taken the time to come here tonight."

Mikazuki paused, tongue darting to wet her lips as her attention zeroed to the centre of the crowd. Léa Dubois didn't seem disturbed by the sudden change in her voice, simply clutching her purse under her arm while she freed her hands for the upcoming applause. The Head of The Magistrate was wearing a beautiful dark blue gown, her shoulders exposed to the cold night hair while her brown hair had been pulled up in an elaborate updo. Mikazuki's golden eyes collided with her brown ones and the room fell silent, a battle of the wills soon turning into a whirlwind of power as the two women seized each other up. The corner of Mikazuki's lips lifted and the sorceress winked, tilting the glass towards Dubois with a confident grin as her gaze turned into a golden tempest.

"To the Jujutsu Society." She toasted before her smile turned cheeky, a challenge clearly awaiting behind it. "To The Magistrate."

"To The Magistrate." Everyone echoed in a chorus, yet Mikazuki's eyes never left Dubois, her smile widening as understanding finally dawned on the woman.

While everyone else took those words as a sign of support and undying loyalty to The Magistrate, Léa knew better. Kinzoku Mikazuki had issued a threat, the kind that would be soon followed by a war Léa wasn't sure she could afford to lose, and yet, she wasn't sure she would be able to win it either. This challenge, this game of theirs, had turned into a war in less than a second, and unlike the other clueless souls standing in the middle of the ballroom, Léa knew Mikazuki would not hesitate to make herself into a general for the sake of achieving her goals – whatever those were.

Gojo Satoshi stood in the crowd, lips parted to join in on the pledge, but even as the words left his mouth, his stare remained perched on the two sorceresses who seemed completely absorbed with one another. The man huffed out a bitter laugh before flipping the glass he held in his hand, pouring the champagne on the floor as he pushed himself off the column and dipped back into the horde of shamans.

Mikazuki didn't flinch, opting to keep eye contact with Léa, but even as their gazes crossed, she couldn't help but wonder what Satoshi's next move would be. Although he was one of the lesser Gojo, Satoshi was still a force to be reckoned with and he was certainly a lot more dangerous than his other half.

When the crowd finally began to dissipate and after making enough small talk to last her an entire lifetime, Mikazuki slowly made her way towards the couple. Satoru stiffened, nervousness creeping into his bones as he watched the sorceress striding through the ballroom and heading straight in their direction. The man sighed, taking a deep breath and turning towards his fiancée. Eshima looked just as baffled and unprepared as he did, except Satoru was harder to read while her cheeks were already turning red and puffy once again.

By the time Mikazuki finally made it over to the new couple, a strange and awkward silence settled between the three sorcerers like a heavy blanket. Eshima opened her mouth, but her lips quickly sealed shut before she could say anything. Mikazuki looked down at the girl, head tilted to the side while her gaze glided towards her former fiancé. Satoru cleared his throat, nervously clawing at the collar of his shirt. Eshima looked up, her soft gaze meeting Gojo's everblues before her gaze settled back at Mikazuki. She could feel her skin turning clammy as the anxiety continued to settle.

There was something terribly imposing about standing in front of the Kinzoku heiress. For a moment, Eshima continued to stare unashamedly, considering whether she should bow or maybe simply shake the woman's hand. It seemed like the right thing to do and Mikazuki's presence certainly commanded it, but just as young Eshima was beginning to gather the hem of her skirt to do so, Satoru quickly intertwined his fingers with hers. Eshima's breath got caught in her throat, heart hammering against her chest as she felt the weight of Gojo's hand in hers, his thumb caressing the back of her hand so softly she could barely feel it.

"Gojo-san, Zenin-san," Mikazuki greeted with a respectful nod, careful to keep her tone neutral and polite. "Thank you for coming tonight, I truly appreciate it."