Sayo woke before dawn, as she always did, rising with the practiced silence of a woman who had learned to move through the Zenin compound like a ghost. Today was important—her son's first official mission—and she needed to wake him early.
She padded down the hall of their quarters, past the fully equipped gym, the shelves of games and books, the jacuzzi—all of it given to an eight-year-old boy without question. Naobito had pinned his hopes on his prodigy son, and as long as Shien grew stronger, the clan would indulge his every whim.
She slid open the door to Shien's room and stopped.
The twins were there again.
Maki and Mai lay curled around Shien like cats seeking warmth, Mai clutching his sleeve with both small hands, Maki sprawled possessively with one arm pinning him to the futon. Her son's face showed patient resignation even in sleep, as if he'd grown accustomed to waking up trapped.
Sayo's heart softened, a smile creeping across her face. While the clan viewed her boy as nothing but a weapon to elevate their standing, the twins were there to keep him company. Despite his strength, he was still a child. Sayo would do her best to protect what remained of his Childhood.
The twins had been coming to their quarters more and more over the past two years—training with him, eating meals she prepared, playing games, doing homework together. They had practically moved in, and Sayo had never once turned them away.
How could she?
She knew what it meant to be unwanted in this clan.
Sayo understood that isolation intimately. As a concubine, she had occupied the same precarious position—valued only for her womb and her looks, tolerated only as long as she served a purpose. If not for Shien, if not for giving birth to a son so powerful that Naobito had to treat him as legitimate heir and future asset, Sayo would have been nothing.
But she had given them Shien, and Shien had given her safety.
Now those same servants who once ignored her bowed when she passed. Clan members who sneered at concubines spoke to her with careful respect. All because her son had the will to demand what he wanted and the power to take it.
She had noticed something else, too. While the Zenin had always revered her son's power, now the compound lived in fear of him. Servants and clan members alike scurried away to avoid his wrath. Sayo feared her son would lose his humanity and become a tyrant. But she could not deny—the fear he had instilled purchased safety for her in ways her position as Naobito's concubine never could have.
Except for the twins, no one wanted to be near Shien.
Servants who attended their quarters did so with lowered eyes and trembling hands, completing their tasks before fleeing. Clan members who crossed paths with him offered stiff bows and hurried away. Even the elders spoke to him with wariness.
Sayo allowed herself a small, proud smile. Then a mother's constant concern gripped her heart. Rumor around the compound claimed her son had killed the head of the Kukuru unit last year, incinerating Nobuaki Zenin with a snap of his fingers for an insult.
They feared him.
An eight-year-old boy, and they feared him like a curse.
But Maki and Mai didn't. Maki admired him, watched him train and trained alongside him. Despite lacking curse energy or technique, she pushed herself relentlessly. Mai, the sweeter child, lacked her sister's strength or pride but clung to Shien for safety, knowing when he was around no one would bully or belittle her.
Sayo moved quietly to the futon and knelt beside it.
"Shien," she said softly. "It's time."
Her son's eyes opened immediately, sharp and alert. He glanced at the twins pinning him down, then at her, expression shifting to clear frustration.
"They're here again," he muttered.
"They are," Sayo agreed gently.
Shien carefully extracted himself, easing Mai's fingers off his sleeve with practiced patience, sliding out from under Maki's arm without waking either. When he finally stood, he looked down at the sleeping girls with an expression caught between annoyance and reluctant acceptance.
"They're always here," Shien said, keeping his voice low. "They've practically moved into our quarters. They eat here, they sleep here, they train here. I can't even have privacy in my own room anymore."
Sayo folded her hands in her lap. "And yet you never turn them away."
"I should," Shien said, frustration bleeding into his tone. "I have a mission today, Mother. I need to focus, and instead I wake up with two girls using me as a pillow."
"They seek safety," Sayo said simply. "You are the only one they can rely on."
Shien's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
Sayo rose and moved to stand beside him, looking down at Maki and Mai. "Do you know what the clan calls them? Defects. Failures. Burdens on the Zenin name. They are guilty of being born twins, of being born girls, of being born without the strength this family values." She turned to meet her son's eyes. "They are guilty of existing, Shien. And the clan will never forgive them for it."
Shien's expression softened and then gave the sleeping twins a look.
"The servants ignore them," Sayo continued quietly. "Their own mother barely acknowledges them. The clan would prefer they disappear entirely. But when they are with you, when they stay close to you, suddenly people remember their manners. Suddenly they are treated like they matter." She paused. "You are the only shield they have."
Sayo reached out and touched his arm gently. "I know you value your privacy. But I am asking you, as your mother, to be kind to them. They have no one else, Shien. No one but us."
Shien exhaled slowly, staring down at the twins. "Fine. But they're not sleeping in my futon anymore."
Sayo smiled faintly. "I will have the servants prepare a separate room for them within our quarters. They can stay close without invading your space."
"Good," Shien muttered.
He turned and began gathering his things for the mission as Sayo watched him with quiet pride.
Her son was only eight years old, but he carried himself with the certainty of someone far older. He demanded respect and received it. He demanded things for her and himself and the clan provided them. He had killed a man last year and no one had dared seek retribution.
Sayo moved to wake the twins gently, knowing they would want to see Shien off.
"Let them sleep," Shien commanded.
Her son was powerful, yes. Frightening, certainly.
But he was also kind, in his own sharp-edged way.
And in the Zenin clan, that kindness was the rarest gift of all.
Shien dug into his katsudon with fervor as Sayo gently ran her hands through his hair. "Please be careful, Shien-chan. Don't make your mother worry."
Shien wiped his mouth on a towel and picked up his Nintendo DS, giving her a smile. "Have tonkatsu ramen ready when I'm back. They are fodder curses, Mother. All I need to do is snap my fingers."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The SUV left Kyoto before the sun cleared the rooftops, the city's lights thinning into quiet roads and dark hills, while Hayato Zenin drove with the steady concentration of a Kukuru man who treated every task like his life depended on it. Shien sat in the back seat playing Pokémon on his Nintendo DS.
"The location is a cemetery in the northern ward," Hayato said, voice polite and controlled. "We have reports of multiple curse spirits, and the residual pattern suggests Grade Three, though the density could mean Grade Two."
Chujuro rested his cane across his knees and hummed. "Cemeteries are always breeding grounds. Curses born there tend to multiply and increase in power quite quickly."
Shien smirked. "I hope they do. It would be nice to have at least a little bit of a challenge for my first mission."
Hayato flicked a glance to the rear-view mirror. "Shien-sama, are you bringing a cursed tool?"
Shien opened the case beside him with a soft click, because if the mission was real then his equipment should be real. Inside lay a pair of brass knuckles, matte black metal with faintly etched seals along the inner band, dense enough that even without cursed energy they would crack bones. The design was simple on purpose, with no spikes, only thick reinforced knuckle plates meant to transfer force cleanly.
As Shien slid them onto his right hand, the metal shifted subtly, tightening and adjusting to his fingers until the fit became perfect, the tool resizing itself like it was alive.
He lifted his fist and turned it so the light caught the engravings. "These," Shien said, "are Probable Cause."
Hayato's tone stayed respectful but curious. "A fitting name."
"Thank you!" Shien replied proudly. "I named it myself. Papa gave it to me for my fifth birthday."
Chujuro snorted. "This is not a field trip. Take the threat seriously and use your curse technique if you are in trouble."
Shien ignored the jab. "It converts my explosive curse energy and multiplies its kinetic force."
Hayato nodded slowly. "Most impressive, Shien-sama."
"It is. I wanted to have a close-quarters option," Shien said. "My cursed energy is explosive by nature. When I reinforce a punch, that volatility normally wants to flare outward. Probable Cause compresses it into impact, multiplying the damage."
Chujuro glanced back, eyes sharp. "You've practiced with it."
"Every day since I was five," Shien answered. "But today is the first time I use it in the field."
Hayato gave a short nod of acknowledgement.
Chujuro tapped his cane once, signaling the conversation back to what mattered. "Since you're bringing those, I'll repeat the lesson about Black Flash."
Shien leaned back slightly, expression eager in a way he rarely allowed. "Yes! Please explain it again."
Chujuro sighed, realizing the hopelessness of his situation. "Black Flash occurs when cursed energy is applied within one-millionth of a second of physical impact, creating spatial distortion and amplifying the strike beyond normal output."
Shien nodded. "I know the definition, Gramps!"
"I am not done!" Chujuro continued. "Black Flash changes a sorcerer's very comprehension of cursed energy, allowing for more efficiency and greater understanding."
Hayato asked quietly, "And afterward?"
Chujuro nodded. "Afterward it stays with you. It changes the very fundamentals of your understanding of cursed energy. Even if you never land it again, experiencing it once improves you permanently."
Shien flexed his fist, the knuckles clicking softly. "Well... then I suppose I will have to land one to know for myself."
Chujuro's gaze stayed stern. "Don't get yourself killed chasing some fancy feat, child. You still have time."
Shien's smile turned sharp. "If the curse is Grade Three or Two, the mission is not worth my time."
Hayato replied carefully, "Even so, Shien-sama, the cemetery could have multiple targets."
Shien went back to playing Pokémon on his Nintendo DS.
He had been improving his combat not only through Zenin karate drills but through studying modern fighting, watching boxers, wrestlers, and kickboxers online, then reproducing their mechanics with perfect memory. The serum enhanced his brain along with his body, meaning he could copy techniques rapidly and execute them at a physical level that exceeded normal human limits even without cursed energy reinforcement.
At eight years old, he was still nowhere near fully grown. The only reason he was being sent on this mission was to gain field experience. This was going to be his first mission, and they had chosen a potentially Grade Three curse as his first test.
When he matured, his base physicality would increase further, and adding cursed energy reinforcement on top of that, most sorcerers would be unable to keep up even if he did not use his cursed technique.
Although this did not interest him much, there were three Special Grade sorcerers in Japan now. They were the ones Shien meant to surpass; the rest were not worth his time.
They arrived as pale morning light washed over the cemetery, rows of granite markers stretching beneath thin mist, while cursed residue clung to the ground along with the fog. Hayato parked at the entrance and scanned the area with practiced caution.
"No civilians," Hayato reported. "Perimeter is clear."
Chujuro nodded once. "Veil."
Shien stepped onto the gravel path and raised his hand. "Curtain," he said, then spoke the field chant in the standard form used by sorcerers. "Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
Cursed energy spread outward in a controlled perimeter, forming a dome that muffled sound and sealed the space, and the veil settled cleanly with no flicker.
"Fast and stable. Great job, Shien-sama!" Hayato said with earnestness.
Chujuro's tone stayed neutral. "I will observe only."
Shien handed the Nintendo DS to Hayato. "Guard it with your life! I caught a shiny Tauros last week. I would be pissed if something were to happen to it."
Hayato gulped and bowed deeply.
Shien walked forward, cracking his neck and rolling his wrists. He let his senses spread across the massive graveyard. He was expecting a couple of Grade Threes, but it seemed the higher-ups had underestimated. There were multiple Grade Twos and a few Grade Threes.
Shien walked toward them as he yelled out to Chujuro, "Don't interfere, Gramps!"
Shien had to make this interesting for himself. He decided to try out something he had never done before: a binding vow.
"I establish a binding vow. For the next hour, I will not activate my cursed technique. For the next hour, I will restrict my cursed energy output and reserves to five percent."
Shien felt chains tighten around him as the vow activated. Interesting, he thought to himself as the curses noticed him and began approaching.
In the distance, hidden from the view of the Zenins, a beautiful woman in her thirties watched with a gentle smile on her face. "Let's see what you can do, Zenin Shien," she said to herself, her fingers gently tracing the scar on her forehead.