𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐈𝐗 - 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

KINZOKU MIKAZUKI WAS STILL BUZZING WITH ADRENALINE BY THE TIME SHE MADE IT OVER TO THE HOSPITAL. Her skin tingled, her sweaty palms leaving damp stains all over her faded jeans, almost as if marking her current state of thought. The sorceress was toeing a dangerous line, dancing on the edge of the blade, waiting for a breeze to flip her over to either side. But much like the imaginary blade she precariously balanced herself on, challenging the Kinzoku was a double-edged sword, and although Mikazuki had been willing to be cut for her sins, the sorceress hadn't expected her sister to pay the terrible price for her.

Asahi was a cunning man, and with his sharp mind, he'd played her like a fiddle. He'd been plying her with these idle threats, knowing a part of Mikazuki would always bend, that familiar thread that bound them together making her believe he would never make good on any of them. Asahi was a strategist at heart, and like the skilled chess player he was, he'd played his daughter right into his trap. It was foolish of Mikazuki to think he wouldn't act on his threats.

The King of Sorcerers was – as he had often proclaimed – a shaman first. He was no father, not to her or to any of the other children he brought into this world. He was a player, a brilliant mind, and as such, he'd go to extreme lengths to ensure his control over his prized daughter was absolute.

Mikazuki was his pawn, his black queen which he'd wield expertly to vanquish anyone foolish enough to ruin his family name or the reputation of the clan. Men like him were dangerous – but so were the daughters they raised. The Kinzoku heiress was a weapon forged for battle, and now that war was brewing in the distance, she was ready to strike.

Those were the thoughts currently flooding her mind, those powerful sentiments spiralling inside of her into an unstoppable storm. Mikazuki knew she could do this – had to do this, no matter the cost. Maybe that's what brought her to the hospital at such an hour.

It was late, the kind of late where most doctors had already left for their homes, meaning only an essential skeleton staff was left on the floor. Mikazuki whirled past all of them, using the threads of her Eternity to weave the space arou8nd her and slip through the cracks of consciousness like a ravenous snake. She'd always been skilled at hiding, but today she was on a mission, the gold in her veins crackling like thunder.

Mikazuki slithered in, her rapid steps quickly turning into soft ones as she reached her sister's door. The door was ajar, light spilling into the hallway and bathing the dirty linoleum floor in glowing white. The sorceress paused, breath caught in her throat as she approached softly. She could hear Niko inside, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke into the phone.

It had been a long time since Mikazuki heard her speak like that, her tone soft and caring. It reminded her of the days she spent laying on a bed like this, her appendix just removed. She'd been too young to understand any of it, and although neither Hide nor Asahi stopped by the hospital to check on her, Niko had been by her side all along. It wasn't until she heard the words that her heart shattered a little bit, a part of her breaking into a million pieces as the voice on the other side cut through the static.

"When are you coming home, mama?" Her daughter asked.

Mikazuki closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. She could almost imagine Ren on the other side of the phone, that child-like pout of hers taking over her features. But Mikazuki wasn't her mother, and Ren would never be her daughter.

"It's– it's complicated." Niko stammered, her expression morphing into a mix of sorrow and serenity. "Mama is sick, and she needs to stay in the hospital for a bit longer. But don't worry, honey. I'll be back before you know it."

It was a lie, and something about the way Niko said it felt like a knife slicing through her skin. Mikazuki lingered on the doorway, still hidden under the cover of shadows as her golden eyes took in her sister's mangled body. The sweeling on her face had gone down, but black circles clung to her eyes while both of her legs were still trapped in a cast, the metal rods put in place to make sure the bone healed properly protruding from her body like pins and needles.