𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐆𝐎, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐘

THE TENSION WAS PALPABLE IN THE AIR. Mikazuki could feel it, the tips of her fingertips buzzing with energy, the warmth of it spreading through her skin and setting every single ich ablaze. Satoru was much of the same, his own blood bubbling with power. The entirety of the Gojo clan's might, all of it contained within his fragile bones, one second away from rupturing and drowning everything into an endless spiral of energy.

This is what set them apart, the sheer destruction woven into their bloodline – the chaos hardwired into their souls after centuries and centuries of rigorous training and matchmaking, all of it with one single goal. To create the ultimate shaman, a weapon of mass destruction so powerful the universe could cease to exist if ever faced with it. Every single day they existed, the whole universe was less than a breath away from extinction. One wrong move, one wrong word, and the entirety of reality could be torn to pieces, all of it swept into the whirlwind of chaos and power.

The reality of it was daunting, and maybe that's why Gojo Satoru didn't take the bait. He could have, very easily, leaning towards the sorceress and closed his fist around her throat, crushing her windpipe with a simple squeeze. Instead, he swallowed back the thought and bit his tongue, deescalating what he knew could easily end civilisation. At least one of them needed to have the sense to back out and, considering the amount of alcohol already flowing through Mikazuki's veins, today was his turn.

"Ugly?" He asked instead, choosing to focus on the less violent part of her speech. "What are we now, three-year-olds fighting over a cookie?" Satoru chuckled.

Part of the sorcerer hoped the chuckle would quell the flames of discord he could see dancing on Mikazuki's golden eyes, but there was also a part of him that longed for the trouble he knew she could bring. For the first eighteen years of his life, Mikazuki had been nothing but a ragdoll, her strings wound tight and pulled by her betters.

This Mikazuki – the one who had been forged by ten years of hardship and hatred – was entirely different. This was someone he could challenge; someone he could fight without having the hold back. She was his match, his equal in every possible sense. And yet, The Magistrate would never allow it.

They'd been foolish to believe their engagement to be anything other than it was; a ploy, designed by their families to keep the peace. It's what he'd been told since he was fourteen, and now that same argument was why he was marrying a girl half his age. Nothing had ever truly changed, his life was – as it always had been – being decided by everyone but himself. That was the way of the Jujutsu society. He should have gotten used to it by now.

Mikazuki recognized the glint in his gaze, her own expression darkening and turning her beautiful golden orbs into shadowy figures dancing in the night.

"No, we're two weapons of mass destruction arguing over the end of the universe." She stepped down from the stool, a disappointed expression on her otherwise smooth face. "But I guess this is all a game to you, isn't it? So why should you care?"

She held his gaze. Watching. Waiting. The sorceress wasn't even sure what she was waiting for. A part of her felt she'd been waiting for so long; she could barely remember the first time she looked at him with that same expression.

It was a long time ago, now, but the memory was seared into her mind for what would probably be forever. She would never forget that day; when she was dragged away in chains, eyes searching wildly for that one person she believed would be her ally until his dying breath.

And just like he'd looked away on that day, he did the same on this day. People never change, do they? Mikazuki chuckled at herself, the bitter thought passing quickly enough she was able to ignore the sting it left in her heart. It hurt, but not as much as she hurt herself, thinking ten years would have changed anything about that man. No, he was the same coward he'd always been, hiding under the folds of his indifference and carelessness.