Chapter Text
Funerals in Rome were a multi day spectacle, this one began with a procession of the Emperor's body, Gojo, Yaga and Sukuna each gave short eulogies.
After his cremation, the Senators back at the Imperial Palace held a meeting to discuss who would be the next head of the Holy Roman Empire, and about the Persian assassins that had killed their Emperor.
Miguel: What are we to do about Persia? I feel a reprisal is in order.
Geto: If they respond in kind, we would be headed for an all-out war with them. They may be smaller in numbers, but the Persians are tenacious. It would be a big blow to us.
Higuruma: That is a decision for Caesar to make, which is why I think we should vote on one before acting on the Persian threat.
Miwa: I second that.
Sukuna: Sounds good to me.
The paper was brought to them by a junior guard with brown eyes and hair by the name of Haibara.
Higuruma: Miwa, please go get Mechamaru’s vote.
While the rest wrote down their votes, Miwa headed to a seldom-visited part of the Imperial Palace, where Mechamaru resided. It would normally be considered an honor to reside in the royal residence. But it was not so for the sickly senator, who all his life had been afflicted by an ailment of unknown origin that left him bedridden.
Miwa’s light steps echoed down the hall, quill and paper in hand. She gently knocked on the door, calling out that his vote was needed to help choose the next Caesar. She slipped the paper through a small designated window in the door, the paper falling into some sort of manual conveyor belt.
None of the senators knew his real name, only the one they had collectively given him after finding out about his affinity for simple machines and other inventions.
After thanking her in a husky, yet gentle voice, the paper returned to the door’s tiny window, neatly folded.
She placed his vote in the ballot box, which was then unlocked by a guard and the votes were counted by Higuruma in the presence of the other senators.
The final vote count read:
Kaori Kamo: 1
Nanami Kento: 3
Suguru Geto: 4
Geto's crowning ceremony was a splendid affair, and no one cheered louder than Gojo, turns out everything came out all right. He knew his best friend had it in him to lead the people to the dream that is Rome.
As the grand party in the Imperial Palace raged on. Sukuna slipped out the back, and found Kaori waiting for him.
Sukuna: Why the hell did you say you wanted to meet me?
Kaori: Shame you weren't elected Caesar, eh?
Sukuna: I have no bitterness towards Geto, I think he'll do all right, my biggest problem is having to stand that idiot Gojo's celebration.
Kaori: Well, what if we managed to get rid of them both?
Sukuna: Nanami would become Caesar by vote count.
Kaori: Not if you kill the Emperor's murderer.
Sukuna: What do you mean by that?
The older of the two narrowed his eyes in cunning pride.
Kaori: Satoru Gojo killed Emperor Gakuganji, and I have proof.
Sukuna: Why should I trust you? I could have you executed for conspiracy against Caesar and a Roman military officer.
Kaori: I'm not looking to become Caesar, no. You can keep that title. I just want to have a little fun. I know a thing or two about toppling and controlling governments.
Sukuna: Oh, really? If I get caught talking to you, I'm also going to lose my head, or worse. What is this proof you speak of?
Kaori: The knife that was found by the chair Gakuganji was sitting on is definitely Persian, but not the kind you think. An assasin would not carry such a rudimentary coarse blade like that, much less leave it behind to trace to his own country. Unless someone wished it was so.
Sukuna: So you're saying Gojo killed him and framed the Persians.
Kaori: Not by himself, no. Someone must have told him in exquisite detail the inner structure of the palace, who more obvious accomplice than his best friend? Wether he knew Gojo was going to kill him or not it doesn't matter, he was still an accessory after the fact.
Sukuna: You said you know about politics, apparently more so than our fellow senators. How so?
Kaori: Who do think pulled Noritoshi Kamo's strings? I had a very long taste of being Caesar, I basically had to foil several assassination plots myself. Can't have my puppet's strings being cut.
Sukuna: So you wanted to mess with Rome one last time, Kenjaku?
Kenjaku: Don't deny an old man's pleasures.
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Although he wasn't one for caring much about politics, Mahoraga couldn't help but think how odd it was that the day he saw Gojo in the audience in disguise, was the day before the Emperor's death.
But he soon cleared his head. He was the final event in a long day of games held for the new Emperor, and in a fit of luck, his fight was at sundown, which meant he didn't have to wrap his skin or cover his eyes. Low light was where he performed best.
This time, they were pitting him against some Persian fighters, a bit more of a challenge. He bandaged his knuckles and equipped his signature chestplate. He was handed a gladius and shield and sent out to the arena, the space almost matching the gloom that was always present in the gladiator's barracks.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Hakari proclaimed his arrival. Eyes uncovered, he saw 5 Persians raise their guard, two of them had a gladius, same as him, with the exception that they lacked shields.Another had a spear, another an axe, and the last one, not as bulky as the rest, held a bow and a half-full quiver. He would have to watch out for that one.
Up in the balcony box, the new Emperor sat on the center chair, Gojo next to him and behind the general, Itadori and Fushiguro. To Geto's left, sat Nanami and behind him Haibara, the junior guard.
Out on the field, the Persians seemed to have reached some sort of strategy, they all formed a loose circle around the archer, attempting to shield him from Mahoraga’s advances. When the albino fighter got close, several would confront him, and the archer would aim at Mahoraga, but never finding a clean shot.
The bloodthirsty crowd figuratively licked their chops, waiting for the moment when Mahoraga would be completely familiarized with their attack pattern, adapted to the Persians’ movements.
He kept close to avoid being a target for the archer, as good a fighter as he was, it was nearly impossible to dodge an arrow.
As he got closer once again, he steadied his posture and lept forward, finishing one of the fighters and jumping back again. The wolfish fighting technique excited the crowd, and broke the gladiators’ formation, leaving the archer exposed.
The low sun’s rays gently reflected of Mahoraga’s blade as he impaled the archer and broke the bow, rendering it useless. Spear, axe, and a gladius were left. They huddle together once again, spear running point, using it's long reach to keep the Champion of the Colosseum at bay.
The crowd ate it all up from the stands, ecstatic to see their warrior in his element, fulfilling his purpose.
Several weeks before, in Mahoraga's lounge…….
One of Mahoraga's chief pastimes besides fighting, were books. He craved knowledge, but his favorites were collections of folklore or stories from what could ve called his home country: The hot lands of India.
He found it enjoyyable, and something in his core made him want to share it with others, and so he started teaching the women servants of the house. Although teaching females of a such a low class reading skills was something usually condemned by Roman society, General Gojo couldn't care less.
Mahoraga had also read the words of many philosophers, about the purpose and meaning of life. He was asked a similar question by a slave girl in one of the meetings; something about what he thought his purpose was.
-”Our purpose, although we didn't choose it, is to serve this household in any way we can. My lord, since you have a choice, what is your purpose?”
What was his purpose? Well, was it to teach them reading? No, he couldn't see himself doing that forever. He looked at the scars on his hands and arms from the many fights he had won, even a couple he had lost. Was it fighting? No, he saw the beauty, form and art in it and it brought excitement to his life. But that was about it.
-What does the word “destiny” mean?
Mahoraga: Something you'll inevitably go through. For example, we are all going to die someday. That is our destiny
That night, as he laid in sheets of Egyptian cotton, he thought about his destiny. What did he want to do with his life? He could leave the Colosseum whenever he wanted to. Why didn't he? Maybe he should become a soldier. No, he didn't want to fight other people's wars.
Present day…
But wasn't that what he was doing right now?
He closed the distance once again, taking out the fighters with the axe and gladius, leaving only the Persian with the spear. As the sun completely disappeared, the arena was thrust into darkness before the torches at the edges were lighted.
It was time to end this.
Staying just out of reach of the spear's point, he picked up the axe from the fallen fighter and threw it at the Persian. He easily dodged it, but it served its purpose as a distraction long enough for Mahoraga to come closer and snap the spear's shaft, leaving the gladiator without a weapon. Both bare-handed, they raised their fists, and the crow stood excitedly, ready to watch them beat each other to a pulp.
Mahoraga threw a quick left-right followed by a strong kick that the Persian blocked, who retaliated by grabbing the albino’s ankle, and making him lose his balance, scoring a clean hit on his face.
Stumbling back, Mahoraga wiped the blood off his nose and waited for the other guy to approach and throw a punch before grabbing his forearm and twisting it behind his back, breaking the Persian’s arm.
The gladiator threw his head back, in an attempt to headbutt him, but Mahoraga saw it coming, and jumped back. His broken arm hanging uselessly at his side, the Persian made a mad dash for the albino, who easily put him in a headlock before snapping his neck, the dry this of the Persian's body echoing before the deafening thunder of cheers.
Was this really his purpose?
Mahoraga looked round at the crowd as Hakari sang his praises. It brought him no joy, he just saw it as some sort of twisted duty.
The games for the day were finished, and Mahoraga was tired. The four men returned to the Gojo household for a good night's rest .
Fushiguro took a bath and got in his sleeping robes before walking to his room.
Itadori: Oh, goodnight Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei said he's taking us to Ostia for a vacation next week!
Fushiguro: Of course he did, well, goodnight Itadori.
Yuji happily headed to the bath.
As he laid down, Megumi was reminded of how he and Itadori came to meet, and Gojo’s part in all of it.