"Megumi, have something to eat first!"
Tsumiki Fushiguro carried a fruit platter over to Megumi, who was diligently doing his homework.
"Thanks, Sis," Megumi said, smiling faintly as he placed the fruit on his desk.
Although they shared the surname Fushiguro, the two were not related by blood. Megumi was the son of Toji Fushiguro and his first wife, while Tsumiki was the daughter of Toji's current wife and her former husband. Despite that, the two had a close, sibling-like bond.
Ding-dong.
"One moment! Coming!" Tsumiki called as she went to answer the door.
Peering through the peephole, she froze. Toji Fushiguro stood outside, bruised and bandaged, looking more disheveled than she had ever seen him.
After a brief pause, she opened the door. Her expression was a mixture of indifference and curiosity, the way one might regard a stranger.
"Dad… Father?"
Toji gave a slight nod, accepting her distant reaction. He had rarely stayed home since joining the Fushiguro household, and encounters with Tsumiki had been few and far between. In name, they were father and daughter, but they had never built that bond.
"Ah… please, come in," she said hesitantly.
Toji scratched his head, a rare flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. "Thanks."
"Sis, who is it?" Megumi's spiky hair peeked around the corner.
When he saw Toji, his eyes flickered with disdain. "So you actually know the way home? Did you lose a bet and get beaten up?"
"…This… happened at work. You could call it a workplace injury," Toji said, unusually patient for the day.
Megumi's eyes widened. This was the first time his father had spoken a full sentence directly to him. Long-held resentment left him merciless.
"Workplace injury? Were you collecting debts for the mob and got beaten?"
Toji rolled his eyes, reaching out to ruffle Megumi's hair. The boy's spiky hair instantly flared into a chaotic mess.
"Bastard! Let go of me!" Megumi struggled in vain.
Toji chuckled, a sound so rare it nearly froze Megumi in place. Could Dad actually… be smiling?
Toji let go and plopped sideways onto the tatami, beckoning Megumi over.
"Hey! Get me a beer!"
"…Get lost," Megumi muttered, retreating to his room.
Tsumiki sighed, fetching a dozen beers for Toji from the refrigerator.
"Uh… thanks."
Facing a daughter not his by blood, Toji wasn't sure what kind of fatherly attitude to take. Luckily, Tsumiki was sensible and kind; any father would cherish her.
Days passed. Toji stayed longer than expected, bickering with Megumi, chatting with Tsumiki, even cooking occasionally. He had even quit gambling. Megumi and Tsumiki gradually adapted to life with this unconventional father figure.
One day, as Megumi collected empty cans, he noticed something strange on Toji. A large, dark-purple, fleshy worm-like shape was wrapped around him.
Megumi froze, rubbing his eyes.
Toji noticed his gaze. "What's wrong?"
"On your body…" Megumi pointed at the Cursed Spirit Ushi, disbelief written all over him.
"To this?" Toji raised an eyebrow and gestured at Ushi.
Megumi's eyes widened. "Ah… you can see it too? This… is real?"
Toji grinned, understanding instantly. His son had awakened a Cursed Technique.
"Seems there are some things you need to know… Tsumiki, come in for a moment."
Though she lacked Jujutsu talent, Tsumiki was part of the household. Toji didn't mind her learning about Cursed Energy.
He introduced Megumi and Tsumiki to Cursed Energy and Cursed Techniques. After a long explanation, Toji leaned back, taking a sip of beer to wet his dry throat.
Tsumiki blinked. "Dad… do you have a fever?"
"…Well," Toji said dryly, knowing it sounded fantastical to ordinary eyes.
Megumi remained silent. If he hadn't seen Ushi, he would have thought his father had finally lost his mind. But now he could sense the Cursed Energy emanating from Ushi.
"There's some fever medicine in the room. Stay here, Dad, I'll get it," Tsumiki said.
Toji covered his face, stopping her, then took her to the courtyard. He demonstrated a series of extraordinary feats: leaping ten meters in a single bound, moving faster than the eye could follow.
Finally convinced, Tsumiki's eyes sparkled. "Then Dad's strength in the Jujutsu World must be incredible! What exactly do you do?"
"I'm a Sorcerer Kill—cough cough!" He choked, trying to maintain the image of a father in front of his daughter.
"I… suppose I'm a Contract Bodyguard," he corrected himself. "But as for strength… naturally, I'm very strong. Those in the Jujutsu World who can beat me can be counted on one hand."
"Wow~" Tsumiki exclaimed, admiration shining in her eyes.
Megumi snorted coldly. "You came back bruised a few days ago, called it a workplace injury, and now act all casual. You clearly lost badly."
Toji rolled his eyes. "I ran into three people…"
"Wait, didn't you say those who could beat you could be counted on one hand?" Megumi interrupted.
"Exactly… and those three? They're on that hand," Toji muttered quietly.
Megumi blinked, realizing the truth.
Toji smirked inwardly. Damn right, that was exactly the situation.
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