"What seems to be the matter, young lady?"
Her head jerked toward the voice. It belonged to a tall man with white hair, who stood at the center of the clearing, wearing some sort of black uniform and a blindfold.
Where in the world had this guy come from?
"Help... I can't... can't breathe," she finally rasped out, deciding that the question could be saved for later. If there was a later, of course.
The white-haired man nodded slowly, as if faced with small talk and not a life-threatening situation.
"You know," he said, "It's not very healthy to not breathe."
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At perhaps her wit's end, but definitely her life's end, Ikuko Nishimura makes a desperate plea for help to a cloudless sky. All she'd ever done in life was attract bad luck, however, so she never expected to receive an answer.
Especially not in the form of a white-haired man wearing a blindfold.
❝𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏❞
"Did you...?" The sorceress let out a breath, words coming out jumbled. "Did you mean any of what you said, at the bar? About me not being... wanted."
Mikazuki turned to him, her golden eyes so clear he could almost see his reflection. The silence between the two sharpened, a sudden weight and electricity filling his veins while she waited patiently. He'd said those things in haste, poisoned by The Beldam's influence but, even then, a part of it had come from him; from his insecurities and his fears. It wasn't a reflection of who she was, but a reflection of the kind of person he'd become. Gojo's resolve faltered, gaze flickering down to Mikazuki's lips for a brief second before he caught himself.
"I want you." Satoru confessed before his brain got the opportunity to catch up to his mouth.
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Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive. Kinzoku Mikazuki was the spare. Two incredibly powerful sorcerers discovering what the real meaning of 'equal' is while dismantling the world of jujutsu, one sorcerer at a time.
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ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇ: ᴡᴇᴅɴᴇꜱᴅᴀʏ & ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ
ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3
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ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴠɪ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒊 ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ