In just over ten minutes, Zen'in Shinsuke had wiped out every Grade 1 and above curse across Kyoto.
He flicked the violet ichor off his blade and scanned the area.
"Looks like that's all of them. Only weaklings left."
He admired the weight of the Split Soul Katana in his hand, borrowed from Toji.
"Gotta hand it to that guy. This blade is perfect—one slash, one kill."
Unfortunately, it wasn't his. Knowing how stingy Toji was, there was no way he'd ever part with such a treasure.
"Forget it. I already took Playing Cloud off him once. Can't keep milking the little brother dry forever."
Just then—
"Brother! Why are you in Kyoto? Shouldn't you be back in Tokyo… conspiring with my sister?"
Mai finally caught up with him. Her words were sharp, but the pout on her lips betrayed how badly she'd wanted to talk to him.
Shinsuke chuckled.
"Conspiring? You really don't know how to choose your words."
"Hmph! You always take her side anyway."
Mai folded her arms and turned away. It was always like this—her sister and her brother, standing together, leaving her out.
"Maki is my disciple. Of course I'll side with her. What's this, Mai? Don't tell you're jealous now? When did you turn into a little vinegar jar?"
Not only jealous of her sister—but jealous of her brother too. That was Mai right now.
"You—!" Her cheeks flushed red. "So you admit it! You only care about her, you never cared about !"
But instead of answering, Shinsuke casually pulled out his phone.
Click. Click. Click.
He snapped photo after photo of Mai's puffed-up cheeks.
"Not bad. I'll show these to Maki later. She'll get a kick out of them."
"B-Brother!!" Mai shrieked, stomping the ground as she tried to snatch his phone. But with her short height, she couldn't even reach his hand.
"Enough already. You're not a kid anymore." He pocketed the phone and ruffled her hair roughly. "So? How've you been in Kyoto? Anyone bullying you? Tell , and I'll beat them black and blue."
"…The only ones who bully are you and Maki."
Mai mumbled with her head lowered, hands twisting together, her cheeks burning.
At that mont, Nishimiya Momo descended from her broom with a grin.
"Wow, Mai. So this is your brother? I can't believe you kept him a secret! To have such a handso brother and never tell us…"
Soon, Tōdō Aoi and the others cleared the nearby curses and ca over to greet him as well.
"Oi, old man!" Tōdō, shirtless as always, bead with confidence. "What kind of won do you like?"
Shinsuke ignored the blunt question for the mont, instead bowing slightly to the Kyoto students.
"Mai may have caused you so trouble these past months. If she ever makes mistakes, I hope you'll forgive her."
"Brother! Don't say it like that! I haven't caused anyone trouble!"
"Fufufu. So Mai can get shy. I've never seen that before." Momo covered her mouth, laughing softly.
"Momo! I'll kill you!" Mai, scarlet-faced, lunged at her friend, chasing her across the rooftops.
"Ah… youth. So full of fire." Tōdō sighed sentintally. Then, eyes gleaming, he pressed again:
"But hey, old man—you didn't answer . What kind of woman is your type?"
Shinsuke glanced at the hot-blooded disciple of Tsukumo Yuki. A smile tugged at his lips.
"You really want to know? Then ask your master."
After all, if you asked what "type" he liked, there were plenty he could list.
But if you asked who he loved—there was only one answer.
"I've got business back in Tokyo, so I'll take my leave."
He cast one last look at Mai, still bickering with Momo, before vanishing into the night.
"Eh? He just left? I didn't even get his autograph…"
Miwa slumped with regret. She had two idols in the jujutsu world—Gojo Satoru and Zen'in Shinsuke. eting one in person and not daring to ask for a signature felt like a colossal loss.
"Ask my master, huh?" Tōdō mused, grinning to himself. "As expected of a man on the sa level as her."
Few knew of the true bond between Tsukumo Yuki and Zen'in Shinsuke—only the higher-ups, and Maki and Mai themselves.
Tōdō Aoi would've been stunned if he knew the man he'd just asked that ridiculous question to—"What kind of woman do you like?"—was actually his own master's lover.
Stunned not just because of the relationship, but because even his penny-pinching, perpetually broke master had sohow managed to find herself a man.
---
anwhile—
By the ti Zen'in Shinsuke rushed back to Tokyo Jujutsu High, everything was already over. He was late to the party; the "flowers had already wilted."
On the empty stone path inside campus, Suguru Getō slumped against a wall, clutching the stump of his severed right arm. His breathing was ragged, his body broken.
Gojo Satoru stood before him, expression unreadable.
"Getō… you guessed right," Gojo said calmly. "I sent Inumaki and Panda back here to push Okkotsu to his limits. I knew you wouldn't kill them."
He looked down at his old friend, unsure what emotions he should be feeling in this mont.
"You saw through ."
Getō gave a faint, almost peaceful smile.
"I hate monkeys… but I never hated the students of Jujutsu High."
From the beginning, his hatred was never for them—it was always for the non-sorcerers.
"How pitiful you've beco, Getō."
A voice broke the silence. Shinsuke appeared, the Split Soul Katana slung casually over his shoulder, as if he'd just stopped by after work.
After all the curses he'd stripped from Getō, it felt only right to at least show up for his last monts.
"Heh… you too? What, didn't get your fill yet?"
Getō looked up, eting Shinsuke's eyes. Of all people, he hadn't expected this annoying bastard to be here at the end.
"Not quite," Shinsuke admitted without sha. "How about it? Got a few more special grades to let loose? Be a sha to waste them."
It was blunt, greedy—but completely in character.
"You…" Getō let out a bitter chuckle. "I bet even curses have nightmares about you. Dreaming of the day you'll co to slaughter them."
"Too bad. I don't even have the strength left to release another. Otherwise, I'd hand them all over—just to spite you."
"Ah, well. Guess I'll have to wait until next ti."
Shinsuke patted Gojo's shoulder as he walked past him.
"Do it properly. Send him off right."
With that, he sauntered deeper into the school, muttering about checking whether his student had been hurt.
Gojo's jaw tightened.
"What an insufferable bastard," he muttered. Did Shinsuke really think he needed to be told what to do? He hated when people tried to tell him how to handle things—especially him.
"Hahaha…"
Despite the pain, Getō laughed weakly.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who can't stand him."
In that mont, there was a strange sense of comfort. After all—wasn't it a kind of friendship, hating the sa person together?
Reviews
All reviews (0)