[Not a word exchanged the entire ride.]
[Though if one had to describe the eerie atmosphere inside the car, quiet wasn't quite right. It was more that Megumi Fushiguro had single-handedly, almost completely, refused to give Naoya the time of day.]
[From a certain angle, the members of the corpse-handling squad sitting up front and sneaking glances through the rearview mirror couldn't shake an absurd impression: the ages of the two passengers in the back seat seemed to have swapped entirely.]
[Compared to the boy with the little backpack, expressionless and staring out the window the whole time, it was Naoya Zenin in his expensive kimono, chattering away and trying to bully him with words, who came across as the impatient child.]
[No matter how Naoya needled him with that arrogant, barb-laced tone, fishing for fear or awe of the Big Three Sorcerer Families on the kid's face, Megumi's reactions were stagnant water.]
[He just propped his chin on one hand, watched the streetscape scroll past the window, and answered with the most perfunctory "oh," "uh-huh," and "is that so" he could manage.]
[What was actually running through Megumi's head had nothing to do with whatever Zenin Clan head he was about to meet.]
[How do I turn this down as fast as possible, the way Hayase taught me, and get out of here? If I'm too late getting back, all that's left will be discount rice balls from the convenience store, and Tsumiki's definitely going to be mad.]
[As for Naoya beside him, this wasn't some sudden change of heart into a caring elder worried about a lost scion.]
[It was the attitude radiating off Megumi that unsettled him. Something was deeply wrong with it.]
[This wasn't some ill-mannered brat raised without etiquette. That imperviousness to every provocation felt more like something inherited from that man, Toji Fushiguro. A refusal, bone-deep and absolute, to acknowledge anyone in the room as worth his attention.]
[It made no sense.]
[If Megumi had grown up at Toji's side, absorbing that arrogance by osmosis, fine. But Naoya had looked into it. Toji had never raised the boy at all.]
[So where, Naoya could not fathom, did a nobody kid abandoned to the outside world find the nerve, the backing, to ignore a legitimate son of the Zenin Clan without a flicker of hesitation?]
[It sat in Naoya's throat like a bone he couldn't swallow.]
[He couldn't shake the feeling that the Megumi Fushiguro sitting beside him was far more than a precocious child. Something clung to him, a composure cultivated from some unknown source, utterly out of place for his age.]
[...]
[Some thirty minutes later, the black sedan rolled to a smooth stop before the Zenin estate's imposing gates.]
[Megumi stepped out and looked up at the two massive wooden doors carved with the Zenin family crest, and at the pair of guards flanking the entrance, bent nearly ninety degrees at the waist toward Naoya, not daring to lift their eyes.]
[Faced with this sprawling complex of traditional Japanese architecture, something that seemed frozen in time, the kind of thing you'd only see in a period drama on television, a faint glimmer of the curiosity a child his age ought to have surfaced in those otherwise still eyes.]
[Escorted closely by several corpse-handling squad members, Megumi followed behind Naoya through the corridors and buildings of the Zenin compound.]
[Along the way, members of the Zenin household, hidden behind sliding doors or sweeping the courtyards, cast a range of looks at the unfamiliar child who had wandered into their midst.]
[Megumi didn't so much as glance sideways. His pace never faltered. He walked straight to the main residence where the clan head, Naobito Zenin, lived.]
[Once shoes were removed and he stepped onto tatami that smelled faintly of grass and wood, entering the spacious Japanese-style room where Naobito waited, every attendant read the room and withdrew. Only Naoya remained.]
[And facing this father who held absolute power over the Zenin Clan, the Naoya who had been all arrogance and venom one second ago transformed on instinct.]
[Every sharp edge retracted. He put on a mask of utter deference, bowing deeply before Naobito, who sat at a wide, low table with a sake bottle, drinking alone.]
["Father, I've brought him."]
["Hic..." Naobito set down the white porcelain cup and let out a belch, loud and reeking of alcohol, without a shred of decorum.]
[The rich, stinging smell of liquor reached all the way to Megumi, standing near the entrance.]
[Naobito ignored Naoya kneeling at his side. His tall, heavyset frame swayed as he rose, heavy footsteps carrying him slowly toward Megumi.]
[He looked down and met the boy's gaze, those eyes staring back at him without the slightest attempt to look away.]
[They held each other's stare for a long moment.]
[What kind of eyes were these? Even facing a Special Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, even facing the head of a clan whose name carried weight across the entire jujutsu world, not a trace of fear or retreat lived in them.]
[Paired with that face, so nearly identical to his father Toji's that they might have been cast from the same mold, the overlap across years left the slightly drunk Naobito momentarily dazed. For just an instant, it was as though the defiant Toji himself stood before him again.]
[Even a man who'd weathered as many storms as Naobito couldn't help a quiet, private exhale of admiration.]
[No blood tests. No tedious proof required. That face and that look in his eyes were all the evidence anyone would ever need.]
[Naobito loomed over Megumi, one rough hand stroking the stubble on his chin, a glint of genuine interest in his gaze. Then, without warning, he let a sliver of the pressure only the powerful carry bleed into his voice and barked.]
["So, kid. Aren't you afraid of me?"]
["Huh? Why would I be afraid of you?"]
[In his experience, Hayase's terrifying physical training sessions and that talking Panda were far scarier than some drunk old man.]
[Naobito blinked. Then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.]
["Hahahahaha! Interesting! What an interesting kid!"]
[Kneeling off to the side, Naoya's brow creased.]
[Watching Megumi fire that indignant question right back, he felt it again, deeper and sharper than before. That wrongness clinging to the boy.]
[This wasn't the blissful ignorance of a child who knew nothing about the jujutsu world. It was something else entirely. A confidence, rooted somewhere deep, that came from knowing something unshakable stood behind him.]
[The laughter subsided, and Naobito, apparently quite taken with this wayward grandson, reached out with a broad palm and clamped it down on Megumi's head. Ignoring the shift in the boy's expression, he roughly tousled that mess of black hair and spoke as though passing a sentence.]
["You already know, I expect. From today on, you'll be staying here. You've returned to the Zenin Clan. As for your name, it's time to change it back to..."]
[Crack.]
[Before Naobito could finish the sentence that would have declared ownership, a sharp slap cut through the room.]
[Megumi's hand shot up without mercy, striking Naobito's hand off his head with every ounce of force his small frame could muster.]
[Then, under the clan head's stunned gaze, he stepped back. One hand flew up to fix his disheveled hair while he spoke in the most serious, most non-negotiable tone he could summon.]
["No way."]
[Naobito's alcohol-soaked mind seemed to stall. His eyes widened slightly, as though he hadn't heard right.]
["...What did you say?"]
["I said, I don't care what that man promised you people for money, or whatever deal he made. I'm me. He doesn't get to decide for me. And I am never coming back to your Zenin Clan."]
[...]
[The air in the room froze solid. Naobito stared at the hand that had been slapped away, still hanging in midair.]
[Megumi's declaration, that ringing "I'm me, and I'm never coming back to the Zenin Clan," kept echoing in his ears.]
[In that moment, past and present collapsed into one. Once again, Naobito was watching a man with no Cursed Energy walk away with that same contemptuous back, that same voice stripped of all sentiment, leaving the Zenin estate without once looking back.]
[And Naoya, still kneeling, had short-circuited entirely.]
[Those handsome eyes went wide. His brain flatlined for a full second.]
[Never in his wildest imagination had he considered that this brat would not only slap the clan head's hand away, but stand in this room, this room that embodied the supreme authority of the Big Three Sorcerer Families, and reject to his face a gift that countless people would have killed for.]
[After a heartbeat of shock, uncontrollable fury flooded through Naoya.]
[What was this? Had the kid been making a fool of him this whole time?]
["You little bastard, where do you think you're going?!"]
[Naoya's eyes blazed. That face twisted with rage into something almost feral.]
[He erupted off the tatami, instinct already driving Cursed Energy through his body. His hand lashed out trailing a cutting wind, fast and vicious as a striking viper, aiming to clamp down on Megumi's thin shoulder.]
[But the instant before Naoya's fingers could close, the instant before he was ready to grind the bones beneath that small frame to dust...]
[Everything changed.]
[The dark shadow at Megumi's feet, stretched long by the lamplight and utterly lifeless a moment ago, began to churn like boiling tar.]
[Then, accompanied by a blood-curdling snarl, a massive set of jaws lined with fangs sharp as razor blades exploded from the depths of that shadow without any warning. Thick waves of Cursed Energy rolled off it as the beast lunged, maw gaping wide, and clamped down on Naoya's outstretched wrist.]
["What?!"]
[The sheer impossibility of it, the speed, the complete absence of any casting windup, caught even a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer off guard.]
[The shadow hound appeared too fast, with no preamble at all.]
[Naoya's freakish dynamic vision and reflexes let him wrench his body sideways at the last possible instant, yanking his hand back in a desperate retreat.]
[But with a sharp riiip of tearing fabric, the sleeve of his expensive silk kimono was shredded by those merciless fangs.]
[Deep gouges carved themselves across Naoya's forearm. Blood, bright red, ran down his pale skin and dripped onto the expensive wooden tatami. Tap. Tap. Tap.]
[Clutching his bleeding arm, shock painted across his face, Naoya watched as Megumi slowly turned.]
[The boy stood with his thin frame angled slightly, fingers interlaced before him in the ancient hand sign for summoning the Divine Dog.]
[At his feet, a massive hound, crouched low and unleashed a growl at Naoya that vibrated through the chest.]
[Megumi regarded the wounded Naoya with eyes cold as the abyss itself. Then, clean and final, he delivered his ultimatum.]
["I'm going home."]