"What happens when someone rejected by the jujutsu world becomes the very storm that forces it to change?
When the curse they tried to erase learns to strike back?
They called me an a mistake of blood and rejected me.
But rejection breeds something stronger than power, it breeds purpose. And that purpose? You'll hear all about it.
Cause this... this is my story."
[Eighteen Years Ago]
One afternoon, I crouched outside the meeting room where I saw the clan head and my parents go in, they looked unsettled. And they had been arguing in there for nearly an hour, and that's when I had the idea.
But honestly, I didn't mean to eavesdrop... I just needed to know why the training masters had been sidelining me for months, the pity in their eyes replacing the usual icy indifference.
So I pressed my ear against the shoji door, separating me from them.
"Your son hasn't manifested a cursed technique, even at ten." said the clan head. "And we will no longer waste resources training him as a sorcerer."
The words were so clear and final, they made my breath hitch.
My father, Haruto, the great sorcerer, spoke next and his voice was strained but desperate.
"He is not yet fifteen, Naobito-sama. He might be a late…"
"There has never been a late bloomer who reached that age without manifesting, Haruto. Never. Your son is a mockery to our lineage. And he will learn to be useful and assist the household."
"Our clan recently has also had difficulties in birthing a sorcerer who inherited the Ten Shadows." my father said, almost pleading. "If this possible, then perhaps..."
"That's enough, Haruto." The head's tone cut through him. "What is happening right now is different and you know."
The was a long silence between them, and I could almost hear my father's pride cracking.
"You're dismissed." The head added.
Their footsteps started echoing and I jumped back from the door, my heart pounding. I hid behind one of the tall stone lanterns as the door opened.
My parents walked out, my father's face was blank and my mother's eyes were red.
I stepped forward before I could stop myself. "I'm not allowed to train anymore?"
They froze. My father didn't even look at me, he just walked past. And I had seen him furious before, seen him break objects and shout at subordinates but this silence was worse.
I turned to my mother. "Is Dad mad at me?"
She blinked quickly, kneeling so we were eye-level. Her hands were trembling when she held mine.
"No, Toji." she whispered. "He's not mad at you. He's just upset that they won't let you train. That's all."
I stared at her, the only person in this entire house who didn't look at me like I was broken.
But even then, I could see it in her eyes that she was lying. Sorcerers were good at lies, they wrapped them up in complex explanations. This one was too simple.
"Why are you lying to me, Mom?" I pulled my chin slightly away from her grasp. "I know he's mad that I don't have cursed energy. He sees me as a failure, they all do."
"Nobody thinks that, Toji. Especially not your father and I."
"They do!" I shouted. The words burst out before I could stop them. "I heard the elders say it. They called me useless and that I shouldn't even exist."
My mother didn't try to silence me, she just pulled me into a tight hug, crushing me against the silk of her kimono. I didn't want to cry but a huge, shaky breath escaped me and I melted into her embrace. She was my only anchor.
"Listen to me, Toji." she murmured into my ear, her hand rubbing small, comforting circles on my back. "People will always talk. They'll always find something to look you down on. But you can't live your life by their words, you hear me?"
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her hands planted firmly on my shoulders.
"Even if every sorcerer in this miserable compound doesn't accept you, I do. Your father too. And we love you more than their stupid traditions. Don't you ever let their rules define who you are. Cause you are stronger than them, in here." She tapped my chest, over my heart.
And she leaned in and pressed a fast kiss onto my cheek.
I looked at her, managing a weak smile. "Okay… Mom."
She smiled back, a beautiful expression that always seemed out of place among the Zenin. "There. That's how my boy looks like. Now, come on." she stood up and took my hand, her grip warm and reassuring. "Let's go. I had the servants prepare your favorite: meat and offal. You've earned a good dinner, my little non-sorcerer."
We walked through the long, lantern-lit corridor, she was humming quietly beside me but my mind wasn't at peace. Her warmth couldn't erase what I'd just heard.
I glanced up at her, smiling like she always did when she was trying to hide her worry. And I made a promise to myself.
I'll pass the ritual test.
I'll manifest a technique.
And I'll prove them wrong, even if it kills me.
But little did I know that what I overheard in that meeting room was the beginning of my true life.