𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗 - 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒

KINZOKU MIKAZUKI CHEWED ON HER GUM, hand resting on her hip while she glared at the morning sun. The heat had finally subsided, but summer was still in season and the sorceress was getting tired of the constant UV light and the sunburnt edge of her shoulders. Mikazuki adjusted her sunglasses, wrinkling her nose as she watched her partner slithering through the crowded platform. The train wasn't set to leave for another half an hour, but Satoru disappeared at the last minute, upgrading himself to first class because his pompous ass was incapable of sitting in economy for more than fifteen minutes.

"Seriously?" Mikazuki asked, half amused and half incredulous as she lowered her glasses to glance at the newly upgraded tickets. "And here I thought I was the one addicted to a certain lifestyle."

Satoru glared her way, but his gaze didn't linger, quickly averting Mikazuki's figure and handing her one of the tickets.

"Just because my family doesn't create gold from thin air doesn't mean I have no class." He wiggled his eyebrows, a thin smile on his lips before he pushed himself off from the wall. "Besides, I'm a trust fund kid. I like to travel in style."

"You're pathetic. And spoiled." Mikazuki answered simply, skipping the line and jumping into the train with little decorum.

She couldn't care less about what people thought of her, and even if her sense of fashion was clearly outdated with her low-rise jeans and faded leather jacket, the sorceress swung her hips like she owned the style. The village she'd spent the past decade living in had been as outdated as her style, and although Mikazuki had bought enough clothes for an entire lifetime since her return, part of her still veered towards that early 2000 vibes.

Satoru noticed it too, sunglasses sliding down his nose as he spied the edge of a black thong poking out from under her jeans. The man swallowed, clearing his thoughts and jumping into the train. The luggage had already been checked, meaning they were both travelling with the bare minimum. Out of the two, Gojo was the definition of an over packer.

He'd fit two weeks' worth of clothes inside of his backpack, a bunch of other useless trinkets in there. Meanwhile, Mikazuki simply swayed by, hips moving in a tantalizing rhythm while she swung a half-empty bag over her shoulder. When on the run, one learned to travel light, especially when being hunted by cursed spirits and supernatural creatures.

The bullet train began to move slowly, picking up speed as the platform disappeared in the distance. Mikazuki let out a sigh of relief, plopping down on her seat while Satoru stretched his legs beside her. The first-class cabin was almost completely empty, the two sorcerers sitting side by side while the scenery in the window became a blur as the train left the city. Mikazuki reclined her seat, eyes closed while she massaged her temples in an attempt to rid herself of the headache building in the back of her head.

"Someone seems hungover." Satoru called; amusement clear in his voice as he laid his own seat back. "We won't make it there until nightfall, so hopefully you'll get to sleep it off."

Mikazuki scrunched her face, somewhat annoyed by his tone. Everything about Gojo was annoying, but there was something particularly unnerving about the way he always assumed the worst of her. The sorceress pressed her lips into a thin line. Part of her wanted to turn towards him and announce she hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol since the night at the club, but admitting she was on the first steps of withdrawal probably wasn't the best option at the moment.

Instead, Mikazuki swallowed past the lump in her throat, wishing she could reach out and grab the complimentary champagne bottle instead of drowning in sobriety. Alas, she was making an effort, and getting drunk on a mission wasn't very profession of her, not that The Magistrate would do anything about her.

"Can't sleep on the train. I get sick." Mikazuki commented through gritted teeth, stomach already sinking at the mere mention of it.

Satoru raised a brow, turning to face the woman as he rested his cheek on his hand, locking his elbow against the seat. Gojo's stare lacked his usual judgement, his ocean eyes soft under the lenses of his sunglasses. He was assessing her, the soft hum of his Six Eyes cutting through her like a butter knife. Satoru wasn't good at communicating, never had been, not even ten years ago when he was whispering all of those sweet nothings into her ear.

He was a sorcerer, a toy soldier, and he didn't worry or care. Instead, he looked at her through the lens of his Six Eyes, checking. Worrying in his own little disturbed way. Mikazuki could block him if she wanted to, but that would require mustering the energy to do so and the sorceress wasn't sure if she could manage without throwing up. Satoru's gaze softened, and soon Mikazuki found herself staring directly at him, no Cursed Energy and no tinted glasses. She'd forgotten how blue his eyes were, like the vast expanse of the ocean or a clear cloudless sky.

Mikazuki ignored the way it made her feel, burying the memories further down and hoping the headache was muddying her thoughts and explain this brief lapse in judgement. Gojo Satoru didn't get to have her look at him like that, not after everything he'd done.

Instead, the sorceress sighed once again, placing a hot towel on her forehead in an attempt to rid herself of the pounding headache.

"Weird. I don't remember that from before."

Before you were exiled. Before you were cast out. Before I betrayed you. So many befores, so many things the sorceress wished she could wash away with a drink. So many regrets she couldn't make up, no matter how hard she tried. Mikazuki swallowed hard and, if she didn't feel like throwing up earlier, she certainly did now.

The Kinzoku closed her eyes, hoping the gesture would keep her queasy stomach from acting out. Besides, if she didn't have to look at him in the eye, then he wouldn't catch her lie. Not when his Six Eyes laid dormant under his gorgeous ocean blues.

"Yeah. Happens with age, I guess." She lied through gritted teeth. "It only happens on high-speed trains, so it's okay."

It wasn't okay, hadn't been since the train first started moving above three hundred kilometres per hour, but Mikazuki wasn't about to whine about it, especially when she could feel her breakfast thumping around her stomach like a fucking piñata. She'd lied so easily it almost took her by surprise. The truth was different, of course. In reality, she'd only started getting carsick after having the twins, Pregnancy was fun like that.

"You sure?" Satoru straightened himself, fishing in his pocket as he tried to find some loose change. "I can bring you something to eat, or maybe a drink."

The thought of consuming anything other than oxygen made her want to vomit, which is why instead of answering verbally, Mikazuki simply shook her head. Gojo got the hint just as easily, choosing to scoot in closer as he slowly re-arranged the damp towel on her forehead. Satoru was careful with his every move, allowing his finger to minimally graze her skin before he felt the oncoming burning of The Omen. Mikazuki looked up, eyes cloudy as her golden gaze met his.

"Are you gonna be okay?" He asked honestly, his tone calm and honest as he held her stare.

"Yeah."

Mikazuki nodded slowly, reaching out to secure the towel while he stepped back into his seat. The train had been empty from the start, but something about the space between them suddenly felt like live electricity. There was a spark in the air, but it wasn't fuelled by any Cursed Energy or the collision of their barriers. Instead, it was just them, in their most vulnerable form.