"Absurd!"
Naobito slammed his palm against the table, the wood groaning under the force. "You all know exactly what you did to Toji. After everything that happened, the Zenin clan got exactly what it deserved!"
At these words, the elders' eyes twitched. In their distorted worldview, a noble member of the Zenin clan could never be wrong. As for Zenin... no, Fushiguro Toji? He was a monkey without cursed energy. He was never worthy of the name. Every tragedy, every drop of blood spilled during his defection, was a sin he brought upon them, not the other way around.
Jinichi spoke in a low, guttural rumble. "Regardless. I will never accept him as the head."
With that, Jinichi stood and swept out of the room.
"One after another..." Naobito sighed. He had anticipated this resistance, but the headache was no less real.
Fortunately, where there was opposition, there was support. The Ten Shadows held a status within the Zenin family that mirrored the significance of the Six Eyes to the Gojo. Now that the Gojo clan boasted the Six Eyes twins, the Zenin desperately needed a Ten Shadows user to maintain their standing among the Three Great Families.
Suddenly, Megumi Fushiguro raised his hand. "Um... actually, I don't want to be the Zenin clan head."
Naobito didn't seem surprised. He leaned in close to Megumi, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hum. "Megumi, the headship isn't just about inheriting the clan's vast wealth and the cursed tools in the warehouse. It gives you a seat at the table of the Three Great Families and access to the internal intelligence of the jujutsu headquarters."
"This is leverage," Naobito continued, his eyes sharp. "For you, and for your friends. You could use the family's resources to help treat the comatose Souma Gojo, for instance."
Megumi fell silent. Naobito had found his weakness.
"Then... what about letting Maki-senpai be the head?"
CRASH!
The sliding doors shattered as Naoya Zenin, who had been brooding in silence, drove a fist through the wood.
"Are you kidding me?!"
Naoya's face was twisted, veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes bloodshot with pure, unadulterated rage. "Maki? Ask anyone in the Zenin clan—who would follow her? A monkey who can't even perceive cursed energy!"
It was insulting enough that Naobito wanted to pass the crown to Megumi, a boy who didn't even carry the Zenin surname. But to suggest a woman? A failure?
"Enough, Naoya! Maki is your cousin! You've gone too far!" Naobito's gaze was freezing.
Naoya didn't back down an inch. "So what? A mere woman like her shouldn't even have the right to set foot in this room—"
"NAOYA!!!"
Naobito roared, his voice shaking the foundations. He stared at his son, punctuating every word. "Do you know why I would rather give the seat to Megumi than to you? It is because of your arrogance. In this chaotic era, you would drag the Zenin clan into the abyss. Get back to your quarters and reflect!"
Naoya's face contorted, looking as though he might burst. He took a jagged breath, stood up, and walked out without another word. Once in the courtyard, he slammed a fist into a stone wall, his face a mask of loathing.
"Senile old fool! Talking about 'character'... you just want the Ten Shadows for yourself!"
Back in the meeting hall, Naobito slumped, looking as if he had aged twenty years in a single moment. Maki, watching the old man's exhaustion, felt a pang of pity and decided to help him convince Megumi.
"Megumi," Maki said quietly. "As much as I hate to admit it, Naoya is right about one thing. With my status, becoming the head is effectively impossible. The only reason the elders are even considering you is because of the Ten Shadows."
Megumi sighed, yielding to the logic. "I understand. I'll accept the position."
The previously wilted Naobito sprang up instantly, looking decades younger. He clapped Megumi on the shoulder and pressed a heavy set of keys into his palm.
"Good! Excellent! Megumi, this belongs to you now!"
Megumi gave a strained smile, unsure if he had made the right choice. Since entering the Zenin estate, everything—save for Naobito—felt heavy, suffocating, and stagnant.
Beside him, Maki rubbed her arms. The atmosphere was getting to her, too. Unlike Megumi, who grew up away from this place, she had spent her childhood here. Every corner of the estate triggered a flood of bitter memories.
Seeing Megumi being swarmed by elders, Maki tugged on his sleeve. "Fushiguro, give me the keys to the warehouse. Once we recover the cursed tools, let's get out of here."
Megumi nodded and handed them over.
Maki took the keys and made her way toward the storehouse. Halfway there, she encountered Naoya. He was sitting on a bench, watching her with a playful, predatory gaze, as if he had been waiting specifically for her.
"And here I thought I smelled something. It's just our cute little Maki-chan."
Maki didn't stop. "What? Finally learned to recognize women by their faces? I thought you only looked at their backsides."
Naoya's eyes turned cold. "No technique, no cursed energy... at least you have a face worth looking at. What, do you think you're special now just because you made Grade 1?"
Maki let out a soft, mocking laugh. "What's the matter? Haven't had enough of the lesson I gave you last time?"
Naoya's eyes flew wide, his cursed energy surging in a violent aura. "Don't think a lucky win means anything. I've been training like a madman to wash away that disgrace. I can still beat you into the dirt just like I did when we were kids, and grind my heel into your face!"
Maki remembered it all—the feeling of the dirt against her cheek, the sound of his laughter. "All these years, and you're still just as heartless."
She spared him one last, indifferent glance and walked past him toward the storehouse.
"Ignored... she ignored me?" Naoya's eye twitched. "That failure dared to ignore me!"
Before he could give chase, a servant appeared. "Master Naoya, Master Jinichi requests your presence."
"Oh? That gutless coward wants something?" Naoya's eyes narrowed. Knowing his cousin's temper, Jinichi was likely planning a move against Megumi. Naoya smirked. "This should be entertaining."
Maki reached the entrance to the storehouse. The dim lamps cast long, flickering shadows that stretched into the abyss of the hallway. To her surprise, a woman was standing at the entrance, as if waiting for her.
"Maki... go back."
"Have you forgotten? We are not allowed inside the storehouse."
Maki jingled the keys. "The Head gave me permission."
She moved to step past the woman, sliding the key into the heavy lock.
"WHY?!"
The woman—Maki's mother—suddenly let out a soul-shredding wail.
"Why! Why must you always be like this?! Why defy the rules of the clan? Why can't you just be obedient? If you just learned to submit, you could live safely here! Can't you, just once, make me glad I gave birth to you?"
Maki looked at her mother. Her face was a mask of stone; she said nothing. She turned the key and stepped into the darkness of the storehouse.
Inside, her eyes went wide.
"Father?! Mai?"
Ogi Zenin stood in the center of the room, a blood-stained katana in his hand. At his feet, Mai Zenin lay in a pool of blood, her limbs mangled, looking up at Maki with fading, terrified eyes.
"Stupid... why did you come?" Mai gasped.
Ogi spoke, his voice as cold as the steel he held. "The tools in this room have already been moved. You're too late, Maki. Megumi Fushiguro will never be the head. And you, and Mai... the stains on my life... will cease to exist today."
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