"I saw everything earlier."
On their way home after parting with Nanami, Toji suddenly spoke.
"I know. You were there the whole time," Mukuro replied calmly. From the moment he launched his attack on the Fly Heads, he had already sensed his brother watching from the shadows, silently observing his performance.
"Oh? Kids these days are really getting scarier and scarier."
First there was Satoru Gojo with his Six Eyes, and now today, his own younger brother. This was the second time Toji had been noticed despite his skill in concealment, and both times it had been by children.
"I've never heard of a Heavenly Restriction like yours. Until you become strong enough, don't overuse it. I don't want you being dragged off for research one day when I'm not around."
He had his hands tucked behind his head, looking relaxed, but his tone carried seriousness.
Having no cursed energy yet being able to control something like a shikigami was far too unusual. If the higher-ups in the jujutsu world caught wind of it, they wouldn't accept the explanation of Heavenly Restriction. They would pry open the secret of this strange ability and claim it for themselves.
"Don't worry. Just give me some time. I'll reach the top and become the strongest."
Mukuro understood the extent of his power. What he needed now was a body capable of handling it. The Heavenly Restriction that robbed him of cursed energy also granted him a real advantage in return. All he had to do was grow into it.
"Is that so? Then I'll look forward to it."
Toji brushed it off with a smirk he couldn't quite hide.
* * *
Not long after, the two of them bought a few things on the way and returned home, back to the small yard that belonged only to them.
Though the Zenin clan considered them both trash, Toji's strength was undeniable. The family disliked them, but they weren't foolish enough to cause trouble for someone who could turn out to be a dangerous problem. Still, no one in the household ever prepared food for them. Not even an extra pair of chopsticks was set out.
"That's it for today. I don't have much money left. When the clan gives me my allowance in a couple of days, I'll take you out for something better."
They ate cheap boxed meals from the convenience store. Toji stared at the pitiful scraps of meat in his container, then pushed the few pieces he had into Mukuro's box without a word and went back to eating.
He could deal with it. He was used to scraping by and crashing a meal at Onshin's when necessary. But his younger brother was still a kid and needed proper food to grow. It wasn't right to keep dragging him around for handouts.
The clan's allowance was barely enough for them to live on. Now that Mukuro had to attend school, expenses would rise even higher. Toji also had his gambling habit. If he ever gave in to the urge and hit the racetrack, the two of them might end up starving.
He frowned, thinking about how to make quick money.
"Sorcerers are in short supply, right? I think we can make a living as professional exorcists." Mukuro swallowed his food before speaking. "Sometimes people want curses removed but don't want the Jujutsu world to know about their secrets."
Toji didn't like sorcerers, so he had chosen his words carefully. If his brother hated the Jujutsu world, then they could simply stay outside it.
"You've got a point. How about we… no, how about I, become a sorcerer killer? Killing curses isn't nearly as hard as killing sorcerers. Besides, I bet that job would bring even more business. It'd also let those arrogant fools see just how terrifying the monkeys in their eyes really are."
Hearing the suggestion, Toji's thoughts opened up, though not exactly in the right direction. He was already picturing the future, not noticing that Mukuro was looking at him with a blank expression.
"Sorcerer killer… what if Onshin learns about this? If you start killing recklessly, it'll break her heart."
That made Toji freeze, his smug grin faltering. He had subconsciously ignored the fact that there was still a girl who saw him as her hero and always looked at him with shining eyes.
"Let me think about it. You're such a pain, brat. Can't even eat in peace with you talking."
Annoyed, he scratched his head and deliberately reached over to steal a piece of meat from Mukuro's box.
"Even for Onshin's sake, I can't let my brother become a complete scumbag."
"Tch."
Silence filled the room.
"I'm full. I'll take a walk."
Mukuro soon finished the last of his food, closed the lid, and stood up. Toji, still resting his chin on one hand, didn't respond.
* * *
Clang!
Walking through the yard, Mukuro heard the sound of clashing blades. He followed the noise to a training ground, where Naoya was sparring with one of the clan's servants.
"What are you staring at, you useless failure with no cursed energy?"
Reminded by the servant, Naoya turned his head, saw who had come, and immediately sneered.
"Trash always comes out of the trash heap."
The foul words ruined Mukuro's mood. He turned to leave, not wanting to breathe the same air as this stench.
"Stop right there, failure!"
Naoya's temper flared. He couldn't understand why a mere ordinary human dared to disregard him, the future head of the clan.
What he couldn't accept even more was Mukuro's existence.
Why him? Why was he the one standing next to Toji, the man whose sheer strength could terrify everyone? It should have been him instead.
"Projection Sorcery!"
Blinded by anger, Naoya unleashed his inherited technique. To outsiders it looked like he vanished in an instant, reappearing right in front of Mukuro with his fist aimed at his stomach.
"Missed…?!"
But the punch, as fast as it was, didn't even touch Mukuro's clothes.
In a world slowed to a crawl, Naoya clearly saw Mukuro's eyes. That same cold, disdainful glare Toji often carried cut straight through him.
"You're too weak."
Mukuro swung his hand casually, slapping Naoya across the face. The impact sent him flying several meters before he hit the ground hard.
"Naoya-sama!"
The servant, sword in hand, rushed forward to help but was waved off.
Staggering back to his feet, Naoya prepared to strike again, when he felt a sudden heat at his nose. Touching it, he found blood pouring down uncontrollably.
"You bastard! Projection—"
His bloodshot eyes widened in rage, but before he could finish, his legs buckled. His body crashed onto the ground. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn't stand.
"This is boring. Next time you challenge me, make it more interesting."
Waving dismissively, Mukuro turned and walked away, leaving behind a silhouette that Naoya would remember for life, one that he could neither reach nor erase from his mind.
"Is this the compensation that comes with Heavenly Restriction?"
At a corner, a man gulping down alcohol muttered to himself. His drunken eyes held a faint trace of pity.
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