the fruits

IN THE TIME IT TOOK TO GET FROM THE ESTATE INTO THE CARS PARKED IN THE DRIVEWAY, NAOKI HAD NEARLY MURDERED NAOYA THRICE AND VICE VERSA. Poor Ranta, who their mother had assigned to be their attendant for the evening, looked as if he was about to cry even though he likely would’ve been scolded for it. Ranta was three years Naoya’s junior and he had worshiped the ground Toji had walked on (quietly and in a rather stalker manner, considering no one casually approached the man), even if the man had never given him the time of day.

Naoki distinctly remembered Ranta sneaking around with Naoya when Toji was teaching them how to grapple someone bigger than them, how to use their strength against them.

They could barely meet Naoki’s eyes whenever they addressed him and Naoya just talked over him as if he were a fly on the wall.

Naoki smoothly slipped into the car that would take them to Daigo-Ji, extending out a leg to block Naoya from entering.

“Get another car, Naoya. This one is too small for you and your ego,” they said, smoothing down their hakama, “Ranta, you may enter from the other side.”

“You mean it's too small for you and your fat ass.” Naoya snapped.

Ranta’s light green eyes darted between the two of them nervously. “Um…” but nevertheless, he made his way towards the other door.

Naoki felt the activation of Naoya’s technique and resisted the urge to roll their eyes.

Naoya darted towards the other side and slammed the door open, causing Naoki to groan as he slid in and slammed the door shut against Ranta’s face.

Naoki held out a hand for Ranta to come in from their side of the door and the boy stood there. Just simply stood there.

Naoki stared at him. “What’re you waiting for?”

“Oh, Naoki-sama - I thought you would -”

Naoki glanced towards the empty space between them and Naoya, realizing that Ranta thought they would scoot over. “You’ll sit between me and this feral shit unless you want us to kill each other and humiliate the Zenin clan before all the major clans in the sorcery world.” they pointed at Naoya with their thumb as they said ‘feral shit’.

That got Ranta dipping his head down and moving in an army crouch to get between Naoki and Naoya. He plopped himself between the two, stiff as a board with his hands resting on his lap. Ranta didn’t look at either of them, merely staring ahead with a constipated expression.

Naoki rested an elbow on the arm rest and placed their chin in the palm of their hand, brushing away the sleeve of their kimono so it didn’t get caught up. Now that they thought of it, they had caught Ranta hanging around the same vicinity whenever they were training. Most of the time, when they walked past the corridors and Ranta was there - the boy bowed a perfect 90 degrees. Naoki knew of him because he was a favoured minion of Naoya’s (and their mother’s it would seem), but other than that - the boy appeared skittish around Naoki like an injured doe about to bolt.

That wouldn’t do. As heir to the Zenins, it was Naoki’s duty to ensure that their clansmen were comfortable with the idea of their presence as people like Ranta would be reporting to them in the future.

“If you don’t relax, I’ll kidnap your mother and sell her to a human trafficking ring,” Naoya hissed in Ranta’s ear.

Ranta stiffened even further for a split second, his constipated expression remaining and yet his shoulder’s sagging in a mock imitation of relaxation.

“Oh Naoya, that’s not how you comfort someone at all,” Naoki cooed, “be nicer.”

Naoya’s head snapped towards them, glaring over Ranta’s head. “You’re the one who threatened me with that last time I was worried about failing mathematics!”

Naoki inched their head towards their window, watching the scenery of Kyoto pass by. “Did I?” they really couldn’t recall. They’d threatened Naoya with some form of harm so many times it all melted together. “Eh, whatever.”

Naoya’s frown grew fiercer, was that a vein on his forehead? “Don’t ‘eh’ me, you idiot!”

“Relax Yacchan, you’ll get an aneurysm.” Naoki spoke in that soft, soothing tone that they knew Naoya hated.

“Call me ‘Yacchan’ one more time, I dare you -”

Naoki turned away from the window, sticking their tongue out towards Naoya. “Yacchan.”

Naoya lunged across Ranta, who let out an embarrassingly high pitched squeal. Naoki held out a hand and pressed it against Naoya’s face, over his nose in hopes the little shit asphyxiated, his hands reaching out in an attempt to claw Naoki’s face off.

Something wet and thick grazed the skin of Naoki’s palm.

“EW!” they cried out, pulling their hand back and wiping it over Ranta’s kimono.

Ranta had started crying in a very manly way. Tears falling down his youthful face, the constipated expression still stuck. He made no sound, but Naoya pulled back and looked at him incredulously.

“You - are you fucking crying?!” the utter disgust in Naoya’s tone couldn’t be missed.

But Naoki had to admit, they were quite certain they were staring at Ranta with a matching expression of shocked disgust. Unbelievable. Naoya and Naoki didn’t even start smacking each other around yet, screaming maledictions at the other. They were just getting started and already Ranta was reduced to tears.

“No,” Ranta whimpered, a hiccup escaping him despite the straight face.

Naoya had scooted as far away from Ranta as humanly possible, pressed up against the car door as if Ranta was diseased. “Driver!” Naoya barked out, “how long until we arrive?”

The chauffeur, Sakamoto-san, who was the only driver who could bear to take both Naoki and Naoya in the same car — regarded Naoya with a calm that completely contrasted the bout of hysteria Ranta was having. “Two minutes, sir.”

Sakamoto-san was the most well paid chauffeur in the Zenin clan’s employ, being the only man who wasn't reduced to a mental breakdown after being in an enclosed space with Naoki and Naoya going at each other’s throats. Sakamoto-san got paid extra every time an incident occurred between Naoki and Naoya, which meant that he was going to get a nice little bonus for Golden Week because of their behaviour.

It wasn't Naoki's fault, Naoya was just feral.

When the car came to a stop, Naoya couldn't get out faster. Naoki knew their brother was fast, but he seemed to have gotten even faster while Naoki was in Tokyo trying to avoid getting murdered/murdering Six Eyes. Within the blink of an eye, Naoya was gone and the car door slammed shut.

Naoki turned to face Ranta, holding out a handkerchief. “Wipe your tears, you'll embarrass the Zenin clan.” they grumbled.

“Thank you, Naoki-sama.”

Naoki nodded and then Ranta blew his nose, getting snot all over their handkerchief.

“Keep it.” Naoki couldn't get out faster.

Getting out of the car, they saw that their parents had gotten out and were standing beside each other — waiting for Naoki and Naoya.

Naoya was looking at them strangely and indeed there was something off about the two of them.

Normally, Naobito would head on first while Yukina ushered the two in behind him. But this time Naobito was standing there, waiting for them with Yukina by his side as if they were a cohesive unit.

“Wipe that stupid look off your face, boy,” Naobito barked at Naoya, crossing his arms.

Naoya spotted a nasty expression and he opened his mouth to say something, but a single sharp glance from their mother caused him to snap his mouth shut.

Their mother huffed, turning on her heels and strutting into the venue as if she owned the place. And their father —

Their father let her walk in front of him.

Naoki looked up at the sky, trying to spot signs of pigs flying or perhaps armageddon beginning. But nope, it was just a normal, clear evening sky.

Naoki and Naoya shot each other a bemused glance and walked exactly three paces behind their parents. Their father had caught up with their mother and now the two walked side by side as they entered Daigo-ji proper, with Naoki and Naoya trailing behind them - three paces away from them.

There was a light breeze gusting on this spring evening, sending beautiful pinkish sakura petals flying through the air. Taiko Shidare Zakura - the Shogun’s Weeping Cherries - marked the entrance to the Sanbo-in area of Daigo-ji, where as was done centuries earlier - the hanami party would be held. Technically, the entirety of the temple was the venue and those invited could traverse as they please, but the Sanbo-in garden was most likely where everyone would gather.

The Fugaku no Ma was where a retainer of the Gojo clan, the hosts of this evening, waited to greet them. “Lord and Lady Zenin,” the Gojo clansman spoke and bowed before Naoki’s parents, possessing the light hair that was typical of the Gojo, though his was more straw coloured than Six Eyes’ snow white, “please follow my clansman to the Akikusa no Ma.”

The entrance hall they were in was already beautiful, with painted screens depicting Fujiyama with sakura trees growing beneath it while some depicted bamboo forests growing from the base of the sliding screens. Naoki had heard that the Aoi no Ma was filled with sliding door panels showcasing paintings of the Hollyhock Festival, but Naoki had never seen it save for a passing glance. The Aoi no Ma was considered the lowest of status among the reception rooms and would be used by high ranking members of the Gojo clan to receive the other Jujutsu clans. In terms of ranking, the Aoi no Ma was followed by Akikusa no Ma, and lastly the Chokushi no Ma. The Chokushi no Ma, like the Kara-mon gate, were reserved for imperial messengers, sorcerers or non-sorcerers. Inflated sense of ego or not, there was once a time when the sorcerer clans all openly served the emperors or the shogun of the time - thus, they wouldn’t dare use the rooms and gateways assigned for imperial purposes even today.

The Akikusa no Ma had sliding panels depicting the seven flowering grasses of autumn, and although the vibrant paint has faded the warm pigments still lingered, carefully preserved as a relic of a bygone age. The Akikusa no Ma was also the place where Six Eyes and his parents stayed specifically to welcome the other two Great Sorcerer Clans. Perhaps once, the Fujiwara clan would be amongst their ranks but the sorcerer line of that particular clan had either died out or scattered and assimilated into the non-sorcerer branch of their clan, more interested in preserving their political power by continuing the age old tradition of making their daughters empresses than their status in the Jujutsu world.

“Be welcome, Zenin-dono,” Gojo Satoshi inclined his head in greeting towards their father. Naoki noticed that his eyes traveled between the entirety of the Zenin entourage before settling on Yukina. Something flickered in his dark blue eyes and while Naoki’s finger twitched beneath the sleeves of their kimono, Naoya openly narrowed his eyes at the acting head of the Gojo clan.

If Naoya saw it, Naoki had no doubt Naobito saw it as well. Their father’s grin was too sharp to be polite. “Thank you, Gojo-dono.” he gave a curt nod that was shallower than Gojo Satoshi’s.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Gojo Fumia, whose icy blue eyes glanced down her nose as she eyed them all in discrete distaste. “We hope you enjoy the hanami party we’ve put together,” she spoke, her voice cold despite her welcoming words.

“I assure you,” Yukina’s deep voice cut in smoothly, “we will endeavour to try.”

The distaste in Gojo Fumia’s face became obvious to the world now, her frigid eyes narrowed on Yukina. But Naoki’s mother simply smiled cooly at the lady, blood red lips curled upward. The first insult of the night had been thrown and it would only go downhill from there, Naoki knew. They braced themself for an entire night of veiled words, looking away from a particular spot on the painted panels to glance at Six Eyes.

He looked bored, lips almost jutting out in a pout as he sat on his father’s right clad in a deep blue kimono with kagome patterns. His bright eyes met Naoki’s and he yawned obnoxiously. “Yeah, yeah - can you insult each other later on? The night’s still young.”

Gojo Satoshi grimaced, but he said nothing. On the other hand, his wife’s cold gaze fell upon their son now. “Satoru.” she hissed.

Six Eyes mimed vomiting, sticking his tongue out at his mother. Gojo Fumia must have the patience of the saint, because had that been Naoki or Naoya, they were sure that Yukina would’ve slapped them. Guests and courtesy be damned. Naoki couldn’t help the look of disgust they felt their face making, acting like this in Tokyo Jujutsu High was one thing - acting like this before his parents and their guests was too much. Not even the ever composed Yukina could stare at Six Eyes with nothing but derision and a clenched jaw.

But of course, Yukina recovered quickly enough. “You have such a charming son, Fumia.” she drawled.

“If charm meant acting like a monkey, sure,” Naoya grumbled under his breath.

Six Eyes grinned, apparently hearing that little comment. “Gotta keep it cool for the losers.”

“Satoru!” Gojo Satoshi finally said something, even then his tone lacked the burning rage his wife possessed.

“You sure like talking about yourself,” Naoki raised a brow at Six Eyes, “I knew I could smell a loser as soon as I walked in here.”

“Must’ve been your clan members.” Six Eyes shrugged.

Naoki laughed, shaking their head. “Please, my clan is many things but they don’t make idiots like you.”

“‘Course not, I’m one of a kind.”

“‘One of a kind’ - sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

In another breach of decorum, Six Eyes lurched towards Naoki - coming face to face as his shade covered glasses clashed against Naoki’s own honey ones. “Aw, are you worried I don’t sleep?”

Naoki remained sitting up straight. “Hardly, asleep or not, I’ll still kill you.” they whispered.

“Satoshi, do try to get your spawn under control,” Naobito snapped, interrupting the deadlock Naoki and Six Eyes found themselves in.

But Six Eyes merely smiled and slunk back into his previous seated position. “Let’s talk again later, okay?”

Naoki was about to ask if Six Eyes had grown bored of living, but a glare from Naobito stayed their tongue.

Thank goodness, greeting the Gojo clan had come to an end as they retreated to follow their parents. Smoothly standing up, Naoki’s eyes met Six Eyes’ once more but he said nothing and only grinned.

Without further ado, the Zenins left to head towards the Omote-Shoin where everyone would be congregating before they all split up to enjoy the Sanbo-in gardens or enjoy the hanami somewhere else on the grounds.

Naoya was the first to break the silence.

“You gotta deal with that every day in Tokyo?” he sniggered, “shit - you must be a masochist or something.”

Naoki shrugged. “Tokyo gets more hands-on Curse fighting experience.”

“Every time that boy opens his mouth to speak, I contemplate the pros and cons of assassinating him,” Yukina sighed, like a tired mother who had to deal with Six Eyes 24/7.

“Tell me if you do decide to kill him,” Naobito said, “I know a good place to hide the body.”

Naoki and Naoya both stopped walking, glancing at each other with an expression that could only mean - what the fuck? Since when were their parents agreeing on murdering Six Eyes? Last Naoki checked, Yukina had been muttering about killing Gojo Fumia and then Naobito, then marrying ‘the spineless twat’ Gojo Satoshi so she could be the stepmother of the first wielder of Six Eyes and Limitless in 400 years and also the mother of Ten Shadows wielder. Through that way, she’d be Dowager Lady of the Zenin clan when Naoki ascended to become clan head, all the while being Lady of the Gojo clan like some knockoff Eleanor of Aquitaine.

“Truly this is what happens when you entrust the childrearing to servants and nannies,” Yukina clicked her tongue, speaking with no sense of irony - considering that until they were capable of forming an independent thought beyond ‘eat, sleep, shit’, Naoki and Naoya had been raised by trusted staff members.

“You’re right,” Naoya nearly tripped on thin air at their father’s agreement, “I was raised mostly by servants - look at how I turned out.”

“Precisely!”

Chojurou (Naoki had completely forgotten he had come with them) let out a sharp inhale of offense, considering that he had been the primary caretaker of Naobito and his elder brother after the death of their mother. But he said nothing, instead it was Ranta who was looking at both Yukina and Naobito as if they were aliens masquerading as the lord and lady of the Zenin clan.

Naoki could only be glad that their psycho uncle, Ogi, was not here which meant that the man couldn’t accuse Naobito of being an imposter and slay him in some delusional notion of rescuing the Zenin clan from aliens.

Naoki looked to Naoya, who was gaping like a fish at their parents. Right when they were about to tell him to keep an eye on them (to make sure they were indeed not imposters wearing their parents’ skins), a sudden weight on their back nearly sent them hurtling forward.

Naoki’s body moved before their mind could process the event. They let the momentum carry them forward, hands reaching up to grip a cloth-covered arm as they fell forward — hurling the body behind them to the ground with their forward motion.

Hand still in a vice grip around the arm, Naoki's honey coloured eyes came face to face with Six Eyes who was grinning up at them. Naoki dropped their grip on his arm as if Six Eyes had scalded them, scowling.

“Must you?” they hissed, through a clenched jaw.

Six Eyes grinned with all teeth, looking all too pleased with himself. “Eh, why not?”

Naoki signed through their nose, holding up their hand to halt the flicker of Cursed Energy behind them. “Calm down, he's just being stupid,” they glanced back towards Ranta and Chojurou who had taken on battle stances.

Naoya, on the other hand, was simply looking on with a bored face.

“You could've stopped him,” perhaps not, because as fast as Naoya he wasn't as fast as a teleporting Six Eyes whose speed surpassed their father's. But still, he'd probably be able to get Six Eyes before Naoki did — how annoying.

“You that weak or something?” Naoya snorted derisively.

“Your faith in me is lovely.” Naoki deadpanned.

Naoya clicked his tongue, strutting forward to catch up to their parents. “If you die just cause of that then you aren't worthy to be the heir.”

“Naoki-sama —”

“Ranta, Chojurou, go follow Naoya. I'll deal with this guy,” who was still looking up at them like Christmas came early. Seeing the hesitation in their clansmen, Naoki inclined their head to the direction Naoya was walking to — the Omote-shoin. “We’re not going to kill each other in front of the entire Jujutsu world.”

There was still a pause in Ranta and Chojurou, but they bowed at Naoki before leaving Naoki with Six Eyes.

Naoki allowed a scowl to fall across their face, releasing Six Eyes who stood up. They glanced towards the courtyard that laid slightly below the corridor they were standing in with Six Eyes. “What do you want? Make it quick, unless you want to get accused of kidnapping me.”

Six Eyes chuckled at that. “If I wanted to kidnap you, I wouldn’t do it in front of your clan.”

Six Eyes stepped closer to Naoki and still they didn’t look at him, Naoki could feel him hooking his chin on their shoulder. If Naoki turned their head just slightly, their faces would be touching. They felt the soft, featherlike caress of his hair against their skin and a part of them was tempted to risk a look down to catch what sort of stupid expression must be on Six Eyes’ face right now, but then if he caught them he would be insufferable.

“Nah, if I wanted to kidnap you - I’d have taken you right from the Zenin estate, right underneath those losers’ noses.” Six Eyes’ voice was almost soft, contemplating in a way which surprised Naoki.

“You seem like you’ve put a lot of thought into it,” they said, “imagine the uproar - Six Eyes the kidnapper, what’s next? Massacring a bunch of monkeys?”

Six Eyes scoffed, leaning his head against the side of Naoki’s neck. His hands came up to hold their upper arms. What cold hands, Naoki could feel the coolness emanating from his hands through the thick silk of their haori, reaching to their skin.

“As if I would ever waste my time killing such weaklings.”

Naoki smirked. “Not even for sport?”

Six Eyes hummed, tilting his head slightly so Naoki only needed to glance down to see his expression. Six Eyes’ face was neutral, nothing like the exaggerated expressions he usually wore. “Would you?” he asked, “just for a light workout.”

“I have enough clansmen to give me a workout, light or heavy.”

Six Eyes snorted. “Suguru would hate us,” he said suddenly, “talking about non-sorcerers like that.”

Naoki paused for a moment. They thought about Getou, about his conviction to protect the weak from dangers they couldn’t overcome. They remembered then that his parents were non-sorcerers. They had forgotten. Getou Suguru had assimilated into the world of Jujutsu so well that it was almost as if he had always been a part of it, slotting into their world as if he was a piece that clicked into the place that was the jigsaw puzzle of Jujutsu Society. Perhaps it was wrong to say that he was a piece in the puzzle, he was a new puppet. A new puppet in a performance that has lasted for centuries, the puppeteers changing according to each story arc. But one thing rang true all the time - a dead puppeteer will always be replaced by another, and another, and so the story goes.

“Does it matter?” Naoki asked, “sorcerer or non-sorcerer, we’re all going to end up dead one day. Just like non-sorcerers, sorcerers die from curses as well.”

Naoki felt the weight of Six Eyes removing himself from their shoulder, his hands sliding down to their elbows, fingers pressing against their haori. Naoki’s back was pressed close enough to him that they could feel his presence behind them, there but not oppressive in a way many have described what being near him feels like.

“Naoki -”

“Zenin-san, Gojo-san.” a voice spoke out, and Six Eyes’ grip on their elbows vanished as if it was never there.

Naoki turned to the side, seeing a child - a boy - dressed in a red kimono the colour of dried blood with golden asanoha patterns. His hakama was a deeper red colour and undecorated. Like Six Eyes, he wore no haori over his clothing and he was short enough that he only reached Naoki’s navel and was only as tall as Six Eyes’ hips. The boy had dark hair which reached his chin, a thin face that had a straight nose and the one thing that was slightly puzzling to Naoki was the fact that the boy kept his eyes completely shut.

But far be it from them to judge weird children, Naoki had been told that they were rather strange growing up and Six Eyes was a downright menace.

“Did you get lost?” Six Eyes’ voice was derisive as usual, but there was ire in it which caused Naoki to knit their brows as they looked towards him. “Run along now, we don’t have time to be babysitting weak babies.”

The boy recoiled very obviously from Six Eyes’ unwelcoming tone, but he remained firm and addressed Naoki more than Six Eyes as he said, “I’m Kamo Noritoshi.”

The boy had enough steel in him to not simply run off at Six Eyes’ dickish behaviour, that was good. Kamo Noritoshi, what an unfortunate name - truly what were this boy’s parents thinking? Maybe Naoki was expecting too much of the Kamo clan, they’d probably say that it was tradition to justify their shitty naming conventions. They did, after all, tend to name themselves after ancestors no matter how heinous. The boy looked young enough to be six years old, which meant -

“Ah, you’re the bastard heir,” Naoki realized, cocking their head to the side. Of course, why else would the Kamo bring a silly little boy to such a gathering?

Six Eyes burst out laughing, prompting Naoki to shoot him a look of confusion. “That’s mean, Naoki!” he cried out amidst his throes of laughter, as if he didn’t just try to get the boy to leave not moments earlier.

The Kamo boy flinched, but his little hands clenched into fists. “I am the heir to the Kamo clan, as you are the heirs to your clans - Zenin-san, Gojo-san.”

“So you are,” Naoki agreed easily, grudgingly a little bit impressed that the boy hadn’t hightailed out of there. He was also well-spoken for a six year old, was his stepmother as harsh in her education as Yukina? Regardless, it wouldn’t do any good for the Zenin clan to alienate the young heir of the Kamo. “What brings you here?”

The boy’s little fists moved to grip his hakama. Naoki almost sneered at the sight, such an obvious tell that he was nervous - Yukina had beaten such habits out of Naoki before she released them to the public.

“Hah? Are we really entertaining this kid?” Six Eyes asked in disbelief, his mocking smile still firmly in place. Six Eyes slunk towards the boy, circling him like a pack of hyenas circling their prey. “How old are you, three?”

“I’m six!” the boy snapped, his voice amusingly high pitched that Naoki couldn’t help the upward quirk of their lips.

Six Eyes chuckled. “A baby!” he exclaimed. He peered down at the boy, his glasses falling to give the Kamo boy a look at his Six Eyes. “Now stop bothering the grown ups and go play outside or something, hmm?”

The Kamo boy opened his eyes to let a sliver of slate grey peek out.

“Oh, look at that!” Six Eyes called out in a sing-song voice, “did I make you angry? Your eyes are as dull as the rest of you.”

Maybe that was a little too far, even for Six Eyes. Naoki addressed the boy, “I asked you a question.”

The Kamo boy looked at Naoki as if they were his salvation and perhaps they were, considering his other option was Six Eyes. “I wanted to introduce myself to you, Zenin-san,” cheeky little boy, leaving out the manchild that was currently eyeing him like a vulture, “I hope we can foster a good relationship between our clans as equals.”

Naoki’s plain face nearly dropped into a frown at his words. Equals? The boy was a child! If Naoki felt like it, they could kill the boy here simply by strangling him with their shadows. Being torn to pieces by Mochi and Moka was too cruel a fate, asphyxiating by Orochi was too slow, perhaps Nue would do? Just a simple zap and the boy would be gone to meet whatever god existed.

Naoki smiled instead. “It’s good for kids to dream.”

“But I think weaklings shouldn’t dream too high,” Six Eyes bent down to the boy’s height, “the fall from grace can be quite painful.”

“You should head back to your clan now,” Naoki told the boy, taking a step closer towards him. They stared down at him through the bridge of their nose. “The hanami should start soon.”

The boy clearly understood a dismissal when he heard one, because he bowed towards them. “Thank you for your time and acquaintance, Zenin-san,” again, completely ignoring Six Eyes - Naoki almost admired the boy’s gall, “I hope we can speak again soon.”

As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Six Eyes glowered. “Crooked little punk.”

Naoki took a deep, audible breath and let it out through their mouth. “Well he certainly doesn’t lack a backbone,” walking away, they flipped a lock of hair which had fallen to their front back to behind their shoulder.

Fingers tugged on one of their ears and Naoki halted in their steps. Six Eyes was tracing the shakudo earring they wore tonight. It had been a surprise that Yukina had brought them out, the earrings depicted dragons which hung by their tails as if they were tassels with the dragons’ horns painted gold. Their mother had mentioned it suited the kimono they were wearing, black with golden kawa patterns that appeared a dark gray only a shade or two lighter until the light hit it, thus the kawa pattern appeared like oil glistening on water.

“Could you refrain from acting like a weirdo just for one night?”

“They suit you,” Six Eyes shrugged, speaking in a murmur, “old heirloom?”

“Yes.”

Just like the tsubaki kanzashi their mother was wearing tonight.

Naoki had always known about the Zenin kanzashi collection which were reserved for the wives and daughters, access to them granted only by the Clan Head. To be able to wear one was an indication of the clan head’s favour, thus the higher the value of the Zenin woman in the eyes of Jujutsu Society.

Naoki wondered if any Zenin woman had ever realized just how like the kanzashi they were.

Forever locked within the family, gorgeous objects whose freedom to see the light and breathe the air dependant on the family head’s grace. Like the kanzashi themselves, they were to be ornaments to their fathers, brothers, and husbands.

Kanzashi locked within the Zenin clan’s showcase. Wondrous to look at, but only the Clan Head could take them out to wear.

It seemed that Yukina had gained that honour, to be the chosen one by the Clan Head to be able to take them out to wear if her bringing out the shakudo earrings for Naoki and the mokume gane earrings for Naoya were any indication. None of these ornaments and jewellery had seen the world beyond the walls of the Zenin estate for nearly half a century, not since Naobito’s mother had passed.

Six Eyes’ fingers released their ear, hand falling to his side. “I hate fancy events like this,” he muttered, “the dressing up and the dick measuring competition.”

Naoki bit their tongue. They found the dick measuring competition between the clans tedious, but bore it with a stiff lip since it was their duty as heir. Naoki hated to admit it, if there was one thing they enjoyed about such events it was the opportunity to put on extravagant clothing and wear jewellery that would be hazardous during the daily routine of exorcising curses and training.

“Good for you.” Naoki grouched.

Stepping away from Six Eyes, they sped-walk to get away from him as soon as possible.

Naoki found their parents already settled in the Sanbo-in garden. They were sitting together, just the two of them within the Omote-shoin, near the open shoji door which faced a sakura tree in the distance. It was just the both of them, sitting there in silence, completely ignoring the rest of the world. Naoki supposed one of the perks of being the Lord and Lady of the Zenin clan was that nobody dared to speak to you unless they spoke to you first. And by the looks of it, with a bottle of sake and their corresponding cups on a tray on his right side - Naobito was drinking in moderation, using a cup instead of directly from the bottle.

What Naoki couldn’t compute was him pouring out another cup and handing it towards their mother. Their mother never drank, but on this particular fine evening, Yukina reached for the cup offered by Naobito.

Naoki pinched themself just to ascertain that this wasn’t a dream.

“They’re being fucking weird, aren’t they?” Naoya whispered, pulling on Naoki’s arm.

Naoki allowed themself to be bodily dragged to a corner, behind the painted panels depicting willow trees in the four seasons. The two were settled behind the painted panel which led to the room with the lowered flooring, while their parents sat in the middle room with elevated tatami mats.

“Did you find anything?” Naoki looked back towards Naoya, who was peering over their shoulder.

“No,” Naoya barked out, “no signs of them being possessed or a set of imposters.”

“If their Cursed Energy was off, Six Eyes would’ve mentioned it.”

Naoya’s brows furrowed, head turning towards Naoki. “Satoru-kun’s a dick.”

“He’s a piece of shit, but as shitty as he is - I think he would tell someone if the Zenin clan head and his wife were possessed.” Naoki hissed, pinching Naoya’s side causing the younger boy to curse under his breath.

Naoya, already pissed off by their pinch, could only respond with full-asshole behaviour when someone accidentally knocked themselves into him.

“You got eyes, wench?!” he snarled, shoving the person who bumped into him to the ground.

A girlish, high-pitched yelp turned a few heads as the young woman fell to the ground in a thud. The girl had black-purple hair split into two pigtails and brown eyes. She was dressed in a cerulean blue kimono with colourful sakura patterns printed upon it, with a bone white maru obi with ume patterns in salmon, pale pink, and red.

There were a few sorcerers already looking their way to see what the commotion was about. That was bad, so Naoki naturally needed to salvage the situation before Naoya made it worse.

“Stop overreacting,” Naoki chided their brother, holding out a hand for the woman while Naoya only huffed and rolled his eyes with crossed arms. “Are you alright?” they asked, purposely softening their voice so that it resembled Getou’s usual polite tone.

The young woman pushed herself up, tucking her legs closer to her with her hands splayed on the wooden ground. She looked up, her brown eyes meeting Naoki’s own honey gaze. To ask Naoki to smile was too much perhaps since they’d once been told they had a condescending smile, but they did endeavour to gentle their expression.

The girl’s brown eyes grew wide and her pink lips parted as she placed her hand in Naoki’s. She had the calloused hand of a sorcerer, so Naoki had no hesitation as they gently tugged on her fingers to pull her up. Thank goodness they didn’t need to treat her like a fragile piece of glass.

“A-ah, yeah, I’m okay.” the girl stuttered, her cheeks warming in colour as she stood back up.

“Good.”

“Pardon me for bumping into you!” the girl lightly bowed towards Naoki, looking up at them through their dark eyelashes with warm cheeks.

Did the girl suffer from brain damage? She bumped into Naoya, not them, and he had shoved her to the ground.

“You didn’t bump into him, you stupid bi -”

Naoki stomped on Naoya’s foot before he could finish that sentence.

“Don’t worry, on behalf of my brother, I accept your apology.” Naoki interjected, shooting Naoya a stink eye.

Naoki allowed their hand to fall from the girl’s who quickly pulled away her hand as if Naoki was diseased. Naoki might’ve been offended, if they hadn’t just needed to salvage the situation.

“E-excuse me!” the girl squeaked as if she had just smelled something horrible and needed to hurl. Then, as if she had never been there - she disappeared from both Naoki and Naoya’s sights.

Naoki and Naoya stared at each other.

What a fucking weirdo.