Naobito
I had never truly liked my older brother.
Nor my younger one, for that matter.
My eldest was arrogant, impulsive, convinced he was superior to everything that breathed. He confused power with legitimacy, and legitimacy with absolute right.
My younger brother was nearly the same, except he controlled his outbursts slightly better. But the pride? That remained untouched.
And to be honest… I couldn't entirely blame them.
We had been raised the same way.
Our parents raised us as their parents had raised them.
As every member of the Zen'in clan raises their children.
Discipline.
Hierarchy.
Worth measured by one's innate technique.
Nothing else mattered.
I never truly understood why that upbringing did not shape me as deeply as it shaped them. Perhaps I was simply born with a certain distance. Or perhaps I realized early on that strength alone was not enough to sustain a clan.
In any case, that difference built a wall between me and the rest of my family.
An invisible wall.
But a very real one.
And that wall thickened the day I was appointed future clan head instead of my older brother.
The clan revered strength.
But not just any strength.
Only one thing truly mattered:
The innate technique.
I inherited Projection Sorcery.
The most prized technique of our lineage, aside from the Ten Shadows.
Soya inherited Construction technique.
A technique with immense potential… but whose colossal cursed energy consumption condemned it to mediocrity.
Ogi developed a new technique: Blazing Courage.
Unfortunately for him, it was fundamentally weak.
Despite all his efforts, despite his stubborn persistence, he was removed from the line of succession without ceremony.
I believe it was at that precise moment that my brothers stopped being rivals and became enemies.
They plotted.
Badly.
They could not even conceal their resentment.
One day, a poisoning attempt.
Another, a clumsy assassin.
Or falsified mission reports designed to send me against a Special Grade cursed spirit disguised as a mere Grade 1.
I lost count of the attempts.
With time, they grew tired.
Direct assassination had yielded nothing.
So they changed strategy.
To isolate me politically.
To reduce my influence.
To sever my ties with the elders.
To weaken my authority.
But once again, they failed.
And I do not know whether it was determination or obsession—perhaps both—but they continued scheming.
Soya used his first son, Jinichi, as an indirect lever of influence within the clan.
Ogi devoted himself entirely to becoming head of the Hei.
As for me…
As long as I had my liquor, their schemes mattered little.
But I watched them.
Because I would never tolerate them endangering the clan.
Then, six years ago, Soya's wife became pregnant again.
Complications were announced.
The children were said to have died at birth.
I paid it little attention.
Such things happen.
But when my spies reported that certain maids were regularly slipping away to the old isolation quarters… something felt wrong.
I sent someone to investigate.
The report angered me more than I expected.
Two babies.
Strongly resembling one another, though with enough physical differences to suggest they were fraternal twins.
And very much alive.
It was obvious they were the supposedly deceased children.
They were left alone for hours.
Without supervision.
Without proper care.
The younger one had nearly died from poisoning—yet, strangely enough, he had survived.
Still, I did not understand.
Why would someone do this to his own offspring?
Then a second report arrived.
Both babies were completely devoid of cursed energy.
A first in the history of jujutsu.
And everything became clear.
The clan already considers non-sorcerers useless.
So if someone were born without the slightest trace of cursed energy…
I dared not imagine their fate.
They would be treated worse than animals.
I am no saint.
Had they not shared my blood, I likely would not have involved myself.
But they were my nephews.
And it was unacceptable for them to grow up in such isolation.
It took me three years.
Three long years of careful maneuvering to officially summon them to the estate.
But I succeeded.
Zoro
The moment I saw the loud man reeking of alcohol, I knew I had not been mistaken.
Zen'in Naobito.
The only member of the clan I could respect.
I would not call him kind.
Nor benevolent.
No one who leads this clan could be either.
But he was different.
And in this environment… different was enough.
I held his gaze, trying to understand why we had been brought here.
Then a voice, tinged with irritation, echoed not far from him.
"I still don't understand why we're here."
My expression darkened instantly.
I would recognize that voice anywhere.
Even after all these years.
Trash.
This word had carved themselves into my memory.
He has been my first lesson in this world.
The first crack in the illusion of childhood.
The voice belonged to our progenitor.
Zen'in Soya.
Narrator
Naobito slowly turned his head toward his brother.
A thin smile curved his lips.
"We are here because a certain individual—whose name I will not mention—lied to the entire clan about the death of two potential future executives."
The silence that followed was heavy.
A dangerous glint flickered in Soya's eyes.
"Don't mock me. You know perfectly well those pieces of trash are nothing more than monkeys."
His gaze shifted toward the two children.
A cold, inhuman smile spread across his face.
"If it's the lie that troubles you so much…"
He vanished.
A simple movement.
He reappeared beside Toji and seized him by the throat with calculated brutality.
The child's feet left the ground.
His fingers tightened.
Slowly.
"…then I only need to make it reality."
The pressure in the room exploded.
Zoro's blood boiled.
Before he even realized it, he was already moving—already launching himself at Soya.
"LET GO OF MY BROTHER, YOU BASTARD!"
Despite all his good intentions, he only managed to get himself thrown to the other side of the room by a kick to the stomach.
His breath caught in his throat for a moment, but he managed to pull himself together.
However, with the violence of the blow, he realized one thing.
"If I had been a normal child, I would already have several broken ribs."
And yet he refused to give up as best he could while Toji was choking in front of him.
He got up and prepared to return to the charge.
"Stop that right now, Soya." was heard by everyone.
It was Naobito.
He didn't speak loudly or aggressively, yet his cool tone was enough to get the message across.
Keep doing what you're doing and I promise you pain and suffering.
Soya violently released Toji before hastily retreating, sweat on his face.
Calm reigned once more in the room until Soya turned around abruptly, surely to hide his embarrassment at his previous act of cowardice.
He clicked his tongue before heading towards the exit.
"Tss. Anyway, there's nothing relevant to say, I'm leaving, I'm sleepy."
Yet everyone could see from the accelerated pace of his steps that he was just trying to escape.
Naobito He then turned his face towards Zoro, losing his cold expression, and then tried to speak.
"Now that we are no longer disturbed, we…"
He didn't have time to finish before Zoro ran past him.
"TOJI!"
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