Six years passed in the blink of an eye. It was winter, 1996.
The snow had just stopped, leaving the world covered in white.
"This house really is boring…"
Now five years old, Mukuro didn't have the innocent look of a child his age. His face carried a calmness far beyond his years.
His bangs naturally parted to the sides, and his deep blue eyes gazed past the gates at the world beyond.
He remembered it all clearly. The direction this world would take, the fact that he had once stepped into the Six Paths of Reincarnation, and his distaste for the Zenin clan, that heartless family.
"Hey, brat. Wanna go take a look at that so-called prodigy?"
From behind, Toji, dressed in thick winter clothes, spoke as he, too, stared off into the distance.
"You mean the 'Six Eyes'? I guess taking a look won't hurt."
Though his brother didn't mention the name, Mukuro knew who he was talking about.
In recent years, news about the birth of the Gojo clan's "Six Eyes" had spread throughout the entire jujutsu world. Since both he and Toji belonged to one of the Big Three Families, it was only natural that the other members treated them as examples of what not to be.
Getting an early look at the one who would be called "the strongest" didn't sound like a bad idea.
"You know, brat, sometimes you act more like an adult than I do."
Toji crossed his arms and gave a self-mocking laugh as he stepped out of the house. Mukuro followed quietly, just as composed.
* * *
"Naoya, where are you going?"
"Just checking on those two fa—"
Not far away, a boy around Mukuro's age came running toward their courtyard.
He wanted to see for himself what the adults always talked about: the two family "failures" who supposedly had no cursed energy.
He, after all, was praised as a genius within the Zenin clan, the one destined to inherit the position of clan head in the future. Those two, however, were said to be nothing like him. Despite being men, they had no cursed energy at all. They were lower than normal people.
Naoya was curious. Just how pathetic did they look? What kind of pitiful faces did they wear?
But before he could finish his words, he froze. The moment he ran up to them, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Huh?"
Toji only glanced lazily at his younger cousin before walking past him with Mukuro at his side.
From beginning to end, neither of them bothered to acknowledge him.
Naoya trembled. He watched them pass without daring to speak a single mocking word.
The harsh winter wind bit at his skin, yet his forehead was drenched with sweat.
'What overwhelming strength…'
It wasn't until several seconds after they had left the gates that he finally snapped back to his senses, gasping for air.
Toji's cold, glimmering eyes had already etched themselves into his mind, both a nightmare and something he couldn't help but yearn for.
Even that boy about his own age radiated a faint but undeniable sense of power.
With a thud, Naoya fell to his knees. He couldn't understand. How could people like them possibly be "failures"?
* * *
Meanwhile, outside the Zenin estate.
"By the way, your test is coming up soon. Once they confirm you really don't have a shred of cursed energy, the family will treat you as trash for good."
Toji didn't look down as he spoke, but his words told Mukuro clearly: life was about to get even harder.
In the Zenin clan, cursed energy and jujutsu were everything.
"That just makes it easier to leave this garbage dump. You've been waiting for that chance anyway, haven't you?"
Mukuro lifted his head, meeting his brother's gaze.
"…We'll see."
They fell silent, continuing on their way.
* * *
The two brothers changed transport one after another, until at last they reached the outskirts of the Gojo residence.
'That's Satoru Gojo…' Mukuro thought.
At that exact moment, a child with striking white hair and eyes as clear as sapphire was being led home by one of his elders.
Suddenly, the white-haired boy stopped walking. He turned and looked straight toward Toji and Mukuro.
His jewel-like eyes scanned around before locking with the latter's gaze.
"Not bad. He really lives up to the name." Toji chuckled, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, then narrowing again as if it made perfect sense.
Ever since he'd developed his Heavenly Restriction, this was the first time someone had noticed his presence without him releasing any hostility or intent to kill.
"That's a true genius for you. Not like us failures. Come on, I'm hungry."
Mukuro turned away first, speaking like an adult.
"Quit acting tough, brat. Let's go!"
Toji grabbed the small boy, slung him over his shoulder, and took off running.
The icy wind lashed against them, but it didn't feel cold. For once, there was a trace of youthful lightness on Toji's face, a softness he hadn't shown since his mother's death.
Perched on his brother's shoulder, Mukuro knocked playfully on his head, although it didn't hurt the man in the slightest.
He had someone who cared for him. He cared for someone. And he had the power to do what he wanted.
This was the life he had wished for in his previous existence.
Behind them, Satoru stood frozen, staring at their fading silhouettes, as though deep in thought.
"What is it, Satoru?"
The woman beside him bent down to follow his eyes, but saw nothing unusual.
"Nothing."
Toji was fast. By the time Satoru thought of searching again, the two were already gone, swallowed by the endless white.
* * *
A few days later. Mukuro's sixth birthday.
"Mukuro Zenin, this is your last chance. If you still show no sign of cursed energy, then live your life like that worthless brother of yours."
In the Zenin courtyard, a low-grade curse was bound and released before Mukuro.
A group of adults surrounded him, while Toji stood off in a lonely corner, his hands in his pockets, ignored by all.
Though they had always thought him ordinary since birth, today they would grant him one final opportunity. If he could awaken even the most basic of techniques, if he could call upon even the slightest spark of cursed energy, he would at least be accepted as a lower-ranked member of the clan.
"Tell us. What do you see?" An old, white-haired man demanded sternly, his voice full of scrutiny.
Behind him, a woman's cold eyes bore into Mukuro as well.
"I see… something just as ugly as all of you." Mukuro grinned, pointing at the curse before mocking them outright.
"Disrespectful brat." One hot-tempered man couldn't hold back and reached out, intent on grabbing him.
"Watch your attitude, or I'll kill you." Toji's cold voice rang out from behind, halting the man mid-motion.
Everyone turned. Toji hadn't moved an inch; his hands were still in his pockets. But they all knew. At this distance, if he wanted someone dead, he wouldn't fail.
"Since you can see it, then exorcise it. Show us the cursed energy you've been hiding, or the innate technique you were born with."
For the first time, the woman's voice carried a faint ripple of emotion, her gaze no longer completely indifferent.
"Too bad. I have neither cursed energy… nor some convenient innate technique."
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