Chapter Text
THE RAIN DIDNโT STOP MIKAZUKI AS SHE MADE HER WAY TO THE FAMILY CHAPEL. By now, the details of it are etched onto her memory, from the large columns that held up the vaulted ceilings to the heavy golden tiles that lined the archways and the cracked marble floors that ran with golden veins. Her heels clacked against the ground as she made her way across, the familiarity of this place making her skin crawl.
She hated every inch of this room, had done so from the moment she was dragged in chains the first time. This ornate chapel was just a prison, and the glass floor which allowed a nearly perfect view of Koganeโs gilded bones only solidified that. It scared Mikazuki, the fact that she might one day end like that; a bunch of embellished bones buried under an empty monument. She deserved more than that. As did Kinzoku Kogane. Mikazuki stood in the middle of the room, her cursed energy and the garnished gold of her Everlasting humming under her skin.
She felt it going restless under her skin, and even as the memories of the torture sheโd endure gnawed at her mind, it wasnโt the pain that made her blood sing. Pain was easy compared to what she currently felt; this mix of indecipherable emotion, a mix of foreboding and unease, the same electricity that hung in the air before a storm crackling in the room. In her head, along with a ringing in her ears, she could hear the crack of the whip, feel the anorthosite tip carving tracks in her bones.
Almost as if summoned by the memories, Kinzoku Asahi appeared at the edge of the door. He stood there, half-leaning against the large double doors to the chapel, his hands buried in his suit pocket. He looked old, for a moment. He was still handsome, his dark hair slicked pack, his face spotless and clean shaven. Asahi had nothing soft about him โ he was all looming shadows and smoky darkness, his mere presence setting off alarm bells in whoever witnessed it.
For a moment, Mikazuki wondered if this was how the Edamura had felt when he marched upon their estate. Had they felt the crackling thunder, the angels signing in the distance, announcing their departure? Or were they as clueless as she had been when she was first called into that chapel only to be whipped like a slave?
โDid you ask me here to torture me again?โ The question cut the tension in the air like a sharpened knife on butter.
The sorceress was feeling bold today, all of the foolishness sheโd been accused of leaving her body like steam. The blood on her veins was restless, boiling and rolling and stretching across her whole body seeking release. She held on to the feeling, balling her hands into fists and allowing a part of it to slither out through the cracks in her arms, curling around her arm like a golden snake. It wasnโt a threat as much as it was a statement, a challenge that Asahi didnโt bother to meet.
โYou went after Lรฉa. You left me with no choice.โ He said simply, pushing himself of the wall.
The doors to the chapel closed, room rumbling like a thunderstorm. Mikazuki felt the floor shake, partly because of the sound and partly because of all the power she contained at her fingertips. Asahi was remarkably calm, not a single hint of cursed energy coming from him. Like he was hiding himself under this pretence of niceness. But Kinzoku Asahi didnโt do nice, and certainly didnโt do nice with her.
โI thought you wanted her dead.โ
Asahi had made himself clear multiple times, whatever heโd once felt for Lรฉa Dubois was either gone and up in smoke or it simply didnโt stop him from wanting her dead. Her father was a man like that, his goals always came first, even when it came to feelings like love โ or whatever version of it he indulged in.
โIn time.โ He answered curtly, his shoes scraping against the marble floor as he walked.
He didnโt stand close to Mikazuki, leaving a wide berth between the two. Instead, he stood in front of the mosaic, admiring the piece with a knowing smile. Heโd spent half of his life wasting away in front of the piece, and although time had not been kind to it, it was still one of the most expensive pieces of art the family owned. It had no real value on the real world, but in the eyes of those who practiced Jujutsu it was priceless. Asahiโs golden eyes scanned the mural, taking in its expansive layout. It covered at least three of the four walls of the chapel, and although it didnโt tell a chronological story like most murals did, it did tell a tale. One as old as time.
โBut if I move my pieces too early, the whole game could unravel before itโs time.โ
Asahi spoke like he was alone, like whatever he was talking about was somehow bigger than him. Mikazuki sighed, arms falling at her sides. She didnโt move from her spot, still standing in the centre of the chapel, right over Koganeโs gilded bones. There was something poetic about it, with the light that filtered through the ceiling landing on her head, the moon singing its praises to the long lost princess and her dead ancestor.
โWhy did you call me here, Asahi?โ
Asahi. So cold, so detached. Not that he could blame her. He could only blame himself for this. For all of it, actually. The King of Sorcerers rolled his shoulders in an attempt to keep himself focused, but even as he did, his eyes travelled back to the mosaic. It chipped away at him, gnawed at his consciousness and he couldnโt quite tell why. Could it be the figure of the late Kogane, standing in what he assumed to be the garden of Eden with a golden apple in her hand? Or maybe was it the snake descending from the branch, slithering through the leaves like a harbinger of fortune?
โI used to be your father, once.โ He laughed bitterly, the lines around his eyes wrinkling slightly. โI am here to tell you the truth; to unravel the web of lies I spent almost thirty years building around you.โ
The lies. So many lies.ย This entire world is built on lies. Asahi thought but he didnโt say, stealing another glance at the mural. Koganeโs golden hair flapping in the wind, her palm open while the damned apple rested on it. It felt like a cruel joke. The mural was supposed to depict the original sin, a bastardised version of it with Kogane at the centre of it all. The original sin. Love? Sex? Lust? Trust?
But there was no sin in the mural, was there? The apple was intact.
Maybe itโs not all lies. Maybe, somewhere, once, an artist decided to tell the truth.
โItโs all secrets and lies with you, why tell the truthย now?โ
It was a genuine question as much as it was a complaint. Mikazuki didnโt know what she expected; some sort of grandiose answer, one that would justify everything that had happened until that point. But nothing Asahi could say would ever change any of it, nothing would bring Keisuke back and nothing would put the broken pieces of her heart together once again. It was too late for that. Mikazuki fixed her gaze on her fatherโs back, taking in his relaxed posture and the slight slant in it. He was leaning on his good leg, just like her. Asahi never took his eyes away from the wall, committing every single detail of the mural to memory.
โBecause time is running out, and you being clueless serves me no purpose.โย