TW/ blood, torture, gore, body mutilation, violence
Plane of Absolution
Chapter 3
Trigger
It has been a month since Makoto arrived at the Gojo clan compound and he already wants to leave ages ago. No wonder Satoru left immediately after dinner; he would've smuggled himself back to the car if he only knew what kind of hell he'd be dealing with.
This new home is as lavish as it can get and he never worries if they're going to have food on the table or if there are any unpaid bills threatening their household amenities, but he'd honestly take his chances surviving in the streets than be here.
What a shitty place.
Makoto's assessment was right; despite being a so-called precious blessed child and being a son of the main house, the rest of the clan isn't as welcoming to him. Outsider trash, as they called him; born from dirty blood mixed with the blight of the Gojo clan, of course, it'd result in some sort of passive-aggressive ostracization- they can't exactly go directly against the main family.
Not that he puts much weight on the opinions of inbred assholes, but he's honestly surprised that Satoru turned out pretty alright considering his parents were cousins. Distant, Akira-sensei argued but still cousins; that's enough for Makoto's civilian sensibilities to consider it incest. No amount of clan brainwashing is going to convince him that clan purity or whatever term they use is acceptable.
'Huh, maybe that's why Satoru turned out that way.' Makoto considers, thinking to himself, 'The physical deformities came out as mental imbalance instead.'
Speaking of Satoru, he's regrettably upgraded his relationship with him; going from cousins to brothers. His uncle is currently managing all the documents needed to have him formally added to the family registry but he's going the extra mile and having him officially adopted as his son.
Being the clan head's child grants him some immunity from enemies so they'd think twice before doing anything against Makoto, especially those enemies who are masquerading as relatives and living under the same roof as him. His biological father is apparently considered to be quite the stain in the family history and being his son, he'll need all the protection he can get.
So yeah, he has a dad and a brother now.
If you tell that to pre-incident Makoto, he'd be singing to the high heavens but now he finally got what he had always wanted, jealously coveted even, he's not exactly sure if he still wants it anymore.
Especially after what happened that night.
Knock, knock
Makoto's musings were interrupted by a soft knock on his door, the harsh midday sun illuminating his shoji doors showing a timid shadow of a petite woman waiting outside his room.
"Young master."
He carefully placed his calligraphy brush on the fude-oki on his side, making sure no ink drops were splattered on his pristine work as he turned around to face the shadowy figure of one of his personal servants; Kanako, if he guessed correctly from her voice.
"…yes?" He replied tentatively, eyes squinting behind his dark shades as the bright glare of the sun assaulted his sensitive vision. Even behind the protective barrier of his new glasses, it still takes a toll on Makoto as he slowly adjusted to his newly awakened eyes.
"Takashi-sama has called for you." Kanako replied demurely, "He wishes to have lunch with you to discuss some details regarding your adoption."
"… in a minute."
"Yes, young master." She replied as her figure remained unmoved in a seiza position, patiently waiting for her master to come out.
Makoto let out a tired sigh as he turned back to his calligraphy work; he had been working on his penmanship these past few weeks as the elders aren't exactly impressed with his chicken scrawls. Calligraphy wasn't something his civilian teachers paid attention to and as far as he is concerned, as long as he can communicate properly then he doesn't see any issues at all.
In his humble opinion, his penmanship isn't that bad, the elders are just exaggerating because they're uptight bastards that won't accept anything less than perfection.
Greatness calls for Perfection
The exact words he had been writing over and over again in these fancy sheets with these equally fancy calligraphy tools.
His general education teacher, Akira, said it's to ingrain the words deep into his head so that perfection would be second nature to him, as it is the Kakun of the clan. Words that he had to live every day of his life now that he is recognized as a Gojo and he had to live according to what is expected of him- gods forbid he embarrasses them even more than being the child of his pariah of a father.
Makoto stared at the inked words in front of him as he feels exhaustion slowly catching up to him, his dominant right-hand cramping from the constant handwriting practices he had been doing since early this morning. His penmanship looked pretty decent, definitely an improvement compared to his first day's work.
To be honest, he doesn't want to work on something he considers trivial but he still does it anyway just to shut the annoying elders up. Makoto doesn't really want to converse with them more than he has to. And now he's being called by his uncle, probably to talk more about the elders and what they want from him.
Makoto can already feel a migraine creeping in; he would've begged Satoru on his knees if he only knew what he was dealing with, pride be damned! He's pretty sure his cous- brother would've been sympathetic to his plight, seeing how fast he ran away from this place.
He stood up slowly from his seiza form, blood slowly rushing back to his numb calves, still unused to sitting traditionally at all times; another thing he had to get accustomed to as a Gojo. He waited until the pins and needles sensation went away before walking towards the shoji door and opening it.
Kanako remained in front of his door, sitting demurely while her head cast down low- a picture-perfect servant.
How uncomfortable.
"Let's go."
"How have you been?"
Takashi started, trying to ease the awkward silence that filled the room while they eat their lunch together. He's not exactly sure how to start the conversation with his recently acquired son and it looks like Makoto is more than satisfied to let the silence continue if he didn't say anything.
"… I'm fine."
The soft clacking of the chopsticks they're using seems to reverberate louder than it should have as tensed silence continued between the two of them. They both have finished eating earlier already but continued on with the charade- both father and son being quite unsure how to proceed further.
Ahem
He cleared his throat, trying to prepare to start the conversation once again. They're going nowhere if he let this continue.
"Your adoption papers are soon to be finalized," Takashi informed, putting his chopstick aside on the hashi-oki and turning to Makoto to give him his full attention. "The elders are just deciding your new name, so it'll take some time before we are done."
"New name?" Makoto replied eyes widened in surprise at the information.
"In our society, names are important." The adult confirmed, leaning into a more relaxed position in his seiza form, "It's inauspicious to be named after someone who disappeared, especially for a blessed child- that's just inviting trouble."
His uncle is a much nicer man than Makoto gives him credit for, but he can read between the lines; they just don't want him to be named after the black sheep of the family. Having him stain the clan once is more than enough and they won't have a repeat of that in the form of his outsider son.
It's not like he doesn't understand them, even he can't figure out why he was named after a man that abandoned them.
He cringed internally, trying to squirm into a more comfortable position but the numbness in his calves wins and he clumsily fell on his side. He managed to catch himself on his elbow but the damage has already been done. Takashi's lips twitched upwards momentarily before falling into a more neutral façade. He can't afford to embarrass this finicky child especially if he's trying to make him more relaxed in his presence.
But he had to admit, he's adorable.
"You don't have to sit formally with me, just sit however you want."
Makoto shyly eyed the man as he undid the seiza and stretched his legs in front of him, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as he lightly massaged his aching calves.
"You don't have to change your name if you don't want to." Takashi continued, silently blowing the steam off his tea, "It might be a little difficult but I'm sure I can convince the elders otherwise if renewing your name makes you uncomfortable."
He paused for a bit as he considered his uncle's proposition. On one hand, the name Makoto is the only thing left from his old, normal life but on the other hand, it's the name belonging to a man he detested the most. Being named after his father has been his life-long complex in his short six years of existence and if it was the past him, he'd jump at the chance of changing his name but… it's the name she gave him.
Silence once again filled the room as Takashi gave his nephew some time to think to himself. He drank his tea with a muted slurp, letting the air enhance the tea's calming flavor as he patiently waited for Makoto's reply.
"I'll change my name."
"Are you sure?" He asked, eyeing him carefully as he gracefully placed the porcelain cup on the table. "There's no going back, clan names are permanent."
Makoto stared back at him, trying to convey his conviction wordlessly, sharp determination filling his usually depressed gaze.
"The name Makoto was never truly mine anyway."
The new father and son duo walked in comfortable silence as they accompanied each other toward the clan head's private gardens. Makoto looked around a bit, adjusting his shades in the process, eyes squinting from the midday sunlight glare.
"How are you adjusting to your new glasses?"
Makoto looked up towards his uncle who was silently observing his losing battle against the sun, "It's alright, I guess."
"We'll have to replace those soon." Takashi said, nodding to himself as he continued his steps, "Those are Satoru's old glasses when he was your age and they were made with Six Eyes in mind."
"You'll just have to endure it for a while." He added, awkwardly patting his back in a weirdly comforting way, "I'll commission the clan's seal masters and tool makers for a new pair once we found more information on your eyes."
Makoto replied with a dazed nod, still quite unused to being cared for by a responsible adult.
It felt nice.
"How should I address you?" Makoto asked awkwardly, shyly avoiding his uncle's eyes and instead focusing on the floor, "Father? Uncle?"
"Don't feel pressured to call me father if it's too uncomfortable; just call me uncle as per usual."
They continued their trek, going from the center to the northern wing where the clan head's private abode is located. Makoto is still unused to literally traveling long distances just to reach places inside their own home- he can't wait to move out and find a reasonably sized apartment, whenever that may be.
Living here is exhausting, both physically and mentally.
They arrived at a magnificent Zen Garden; he thought the one in front of his room was luxurious but the clan head's personal garden blows it out of the competition.
This is easily five times bigger, filled with a large koi pond in the distance serving as a wonderful vista in the background, an expansive rock garden displaying intricate patterns on the white sand, and countless beautifully manicured plants he can't even name decorating each and every corner. He remained slack-jawed as they walk towards a wooden platform where a table filled with boiling water, tea, and, boxes of what he assumed to be snacks were already prepared in advance by servants.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Makoto immediately closed his mouth, embarrassed at his ogling. He must've looked like an ignorant country bumpkin to his uncle. Takashi just smiled amusingly at him, silently teasing him the child. He didn't say anything at all but Makoto can feel that he is being laughed at.
"Sit here." His uncle ordered, pointing at a throw pillow across from him as he sat on his own designated seat, "This area is more secure so we can talk here more freely."
Makoto wordlessly followed him as he sat across his uncle; on the other side of the table, Takashi prepared the tea for the both of them, elegantly mixing the matcha and hot water manually on a porcelain bowl with a chasen. He observed his uncle's silent poise, looking every bit of the dignified clan head that he is with his pin-straight posture while sitting comfortably in a seiza.
He can't help but admire the white-haired man for doing all this effortlessly when it took everything from him and he didn't even look half as elegant as his uncle did.
"I imagine you have questions for me?"
Makoto's gaze shifted from the tea in front of him, immediately focusing on the elder man as he contemplates the question. He waited as his uncle finished preparing the tea before asking anything.
"Satoru said that the two of us are the only ones with these eyes," He asked, fingers fiddling with his glasses nervously, "But you said that I have my father's eyes?"
"I'm confused." He finished lamely, unsure how to structure his question.
"Ahh, I see." Takashi said, nodding sagely as he calmly sips the tea he just prepared, "I assume you've already been taught by your teacher about jujutsu and our clan's history?"
Makoto nodded in response, confirming that his lessons with Akira weren't in vain. It was definitely an eye-opener, to know that there's a separate world out there that people like him weren't privy to before the incident. It's nerve-racking to know how much danger the average person we're exposed to without even knowing anything about how vulnerable they were.
And to think he lived in a house full of curses- he honestly doesn't know how he survived for this long.
"Your father was my half-brother; he was an illegitimate offspring between my father, the former clan head, and a servant so you can imagine the scandal." His uncle explained, "Unlike one of our many rival clans, the Zen'in's practice a polygamous system with their concubines to successfully breed powerful techniques; our clan is far more traditional with our monogamous approach."
"The elders always looked down on them because of their promiscuity." He smirked, his eyes filled with unspoken mirth, "They like to play the moral high ground but they're no better; they want the same thing as the Zen'in's."
Takashi paused his explanation for a bit; attention being focused on the snack box on the side. He opened it and inside were the most beautiful snacks Makoto has ever seen in his life. His uncle called them wagashi, some sort of expensive traditional dessert; he quickly plated them and offered some to Makoto.
"Your father was born with Heavenly Restriction."
"Heavenly Restriction?"
"It is a type of binding that is enforced on someone the moment they are born- an equivalent exchange per se," Takashi explained, skewering a piece as he delicately ate it.
"Zen'in Toji is a great example of this; he was born with zero cursed energy which is unheard of. Even the weakest civilian still has a drop of cursed energy in them but Toji was born with nothing at all." He continued, pausing for a bit to drink some green tea, "In exchange for that, he was born with monstrous physical strength rivaling those Special Grade sorcerers like Satoru."
Makoto's eyes widen in shock; from what he had learned from his sensei, there are only three sorcerers currently alive that are recognized as Special Grades, and two of them were Satoru and his classmate Geto Suguru, whom he had met in the medical bay after he woke up. Special Grades are reserved for anomalies, considered to be incredibly rare as their destructive potential is immeasurable.
A single Special Grade can destroy a nation single-handedly and for this Toji to be considered on the same level without any cursed energy or techniques is mind-boggling.
"The Zen'in's truly are idiots, they let someone like that go over petty bigotry."
Makoto felt goosebumps rise on his skin from what he had heard, a monster like that is on the loose and no one is holding the leash.
What a disaster.
"Once the elders found out about your grandmother's pregnancy, they immediately voted for its termination." His uncle continued, "But even in the womb, Makoto was already releasing a tremendous amount of cursed energy. The elders saw potential and allowed my father's mistress to continue her pregnancy to term- a miraculous decision if I do say so myself."
"Your father, Makoto, was born with the markers for Six Eyes and a monstrous cursed energy to spare but because of Heavenly Restriction he was left with a weak body that cannot utilize it- rendering his gifts useless." Takashi explained, quietly breathing the aroma of the tea, "The elders were devastated and further enhances their belief that selective matchmaking is still the only way to produce strong children."
"My brother was thrown away in a distant house on the edge of the compound- hidden like an embarrassing secret that the clan didn't want to acknowledge." He finished, looking solemnly at a distance, silent regret ringing through unsaid words, "He was essentially a prisoner in his own home, the elders are ashamed of him and want him gone but they cannot due to the possibility of him passing the Six Eyes to future offspring."
"As you know, there cannot be two Six Eyes at once and since my brother's eyes didn't activate, Satoru was born with it instead; Makoto was promptly forgotten."
The young child remained quiet, wordlessly processing the information he had received from his uncle. He took a deep breath, the clean tranquil air fruitlessly trying to quell the bubbling anxiety and disgust forming in his gut.
Makoto thought he couldn't detest anyone more than his father but the elders dare to impress.
He pitied his father.
"Which makes you quite special."
Makoto looked up curiously, his uncle's words breaking him out of his trance as he continued to listen attentively to his explanations.
"You were born outside of the nest and are the second blessed child in this generation. Your birth challenges every belief the elders had formed in the hundreds of years of this clan's existence."
"The elders are invested in your growth no matter how much they detested your origins." He continued, smiling gently at him while he offered more confectionary to the child, silently goading him to eat, "They're doing their best to erase your past and rewrite a new one."
"Now enough with this serious talk! Try these, I'm sure you'll like them."
Makoto stared at the piles of uneaten wagashi on his plate; he still hasn't tasted one, they look far too beautiful and expensive to be eaten so casually. He hesitantly picked up the wooden skewer and reluctantly picked a piece that looked like cherry blossom and silently chewed on it.
It was delicious.
Takashi smiled at the stars forming in his young son's eyes, he wanted to cheer him up a bit after the depressing conversation they were having. Gojo's are susceptible to sweet confectionaries- looks like blood ran true with Makoto.
"How is it?" He smiled amiably, watching the child fondly as he wolfed down more sweets with his skewer, "This was a homecoming gift from Satoru, he said these were a specialty in Kyoto and I wanted to share them with you."
Makoto nodded humbly as he finished the plate of dessert offered to him, shyly eyeing the box of wagashi on the side. He wants to ask for more but is unsure if he's allowed to. Takashi just smiled and genially piled more sweets on his plate, understanding Makoto's silent demands.
"Are you sure you don't know when's your birthday?" His uncle asked, looking at him as he silently slurped his steaming tea.
Makoto shook his head no; birthdays weren't something they celebrated and it seems to be a sensitive topic so he never pursued anymore about it.
"The elders have decided that your new birthdate would be on the day you alerted us with your flashy entrance last August 8." Takashi explained, "Based on the dates of Makoto's disappearance, you'd be born around 1999, making you six years old this year."
"The elders liked the date- it's quite auspicious. August 8, day eight of the eighth month; two infinities for the second blessed child." He joked around, smiling coyly at the young child, "Don't think too much about it, the elders just like being superstitious."
"You can pick any date you want and just celebrate it whenever," Takashi added quickly, trying to salvage the conversation as he saw Makoto's mood darken once again. It was quite insensitive of the elders, but then again what's new about that?
How morbid, he doesn't know if a child can celebrate on the day he lost everything.
"I have many birthdays to make up throughout the years," He continued, chewing silently on a wagashi before swallowing it daintily, "I have prepared a gift for you and had it sent to your room."
"A gift?" Makoto asked, pausing in his eating spree, washing down the sweetness with a giant gulp of bitter tea, "What is it?"
"It's a bit too big for you now but I'm sure you'll find it useful someday."
Makoto huffed as he swung his bokken downward, practicing the katas he's been assigned by his sensei as a warm-up. He had been doing this repeatedly for quite some time now, and after completing the number of powerful downward swings required, he stopped to catch his breath and wipe his sweaty forehead on the sleeves of his keiko-gi.
He stumbled tiredly on the wooden floors where his items were located and promptly dropped himself beside it with a loud plop- all with the grace of a drunken salary man. Makoto grabbed the water flask prepared for him by a servant and sipped the cold water; he made sure not to drink too much to avoid his sides from aching during intense physical activity, just enough to relieve his dry throat.
Makoto leaned his head against the wall, taking advantage of the break to rest for a bit before he goes back to training. Aside from education and etiquette lessons, he had been doing physical training as soon as he recovered. He did it all with no complaints despite the borderline abuse he had been experiencing from the ever-generous Jyubei.
If anything, he learned that his stamina sucks so he's been working tirelessly to remedy that.
Makoto had been doing physical conditioning the first week he started and he found out that he excels better with weaponry than in hand-to-hand combat. He was given the choice to pursue whichever offensive weapon he wanted from the Gojo clan's armory and he decided to go with swords since it was the one that felt the most natural to him.
So here he is stuck with the infuriating Jyubei as his kenjutsu teacher.
He should have chosen polearms.
He put his flask back on the floor beside him when his attention was caught by a golden gleam at the periphery of his vision- it was his uncle's gift.
After his impromptu lunch and tea party with his uncle, he went back to his room to rest before he goes training with Jyubei in the afternoon. He saw an intricate rectangle box lying innocently on his low table, he assumed it was the gift his uncle was talking about earlier since it was the only thing out of place in his room.
Even just resting there on the table, he can feel immense power emanating from it. He can almost see the dark aura surrounding it as he approached it warily, carefully peeling the multiple seals on it, and opening it to reveal a katana inside.
It was wrapped in ominous blood-red fabric, almost as if warning him to stay away.
The katana itself was beautiful; wrapped in a black scabbard that sheened blue in the light with intricate golden fiery patterns on it, its matching golden handguard gleaming so brightly it almost hurt to stare at it.
He lifted it from the box and almost dropped it with how heavy it was; it was warm to the touch, almost brimming with life as it pulsed in his hands, greeting him like a friendly stranger. He gripped it tightly on its black-gold handle to unsheathe it from its scabbard to reveal an incredibly sharp blade with a single word engraved on it.
Metsu
Annihilation.
Makoto felt his heart race from the implication of what this sword can do.
On what it's meant to do.
"I can't believe Takashi-sama gave that sword to you."
Makoto was interrupted in his thoughts as he glanced up at his sensei's frowning mug, standing over him like an overlord, jealously eyeing the sword at his side. He sighed as he stood up and matched Jyubei's poisonous glare with his unmoving cursed eyes, silently daring him to do his worst.
"If you have any problems with his decision, then go complaint to him about it."
"Tch, what an undeserving child."
"Weak and pathetic." Jyubei hissed as he turned on his back, long white hair flicking into the wind as he went back to the center of the dojo, "Just like your father."
He silently followed him with gritted teeth, putting everything he has to hold back his temper as he angrily glared daggers at Jyubei's haughty back. He stood in position as he prepared to spar with his teacher, his grip on the bokken turning deadly from his barely restrained anger.
The elder man in turn prepared his own stance, mirroring Makoto's own.
He felt a sudden shift in the air- his teacher is far angrier than usual so he prepared himself for the worst.
Makoto took a deep breath and released it slowly to calm his nerves, trying to remember everything he has been taught until now. He relaxed his stance, widen his berth, and lowered his center of gravity as he slowly walked around his sensei who stood still in the middle, observing him like a predator.
He knew he stood no chance against the elder man; blessed child that he is, he's still a novice and his prospects of winning against a master is less than zero percent. But at the very least, he wants to hurt him. Badly.
Makoto considered his next course of action, he was not sure how he'll do it but he wants to make him pay- even if it was just a minor discomfort for a couple of days.
"Too slow."
Makoto's eyes widen as Jyubei suddenly attacked him like a viper, agility shining through years of training his craft. He swung his bokken at his student as Makoto desperately tried to parry the shot with everything he can.
The force of the hit caused Makoto's training slippers to squeak against the wooden floors as he tried to support himself from falling backward. His effort was rewarded as he pushed Jyubei back, immediately taking advantage of the opening by swinging his wooden sword at him but the elder man was faster as he effortlessly dodged it.
Makoto continued his barrage of assaults but his sensei's years of experiences shone true as he avoided them all smoothly. He grew frustrated as he saw Jyubei's unimpressed expression whilst fighting; he was giving his all while this is just a passive one-sided fight for him.
The slight moment of frustration was all Jyubei needed to take advantage of the opening he was presented with. Makoto eyes widened in surprise as his teacher suddenly changed to a more offensive stance as he swung his bokken upwards, striking the child's sword purposely, forcing Makoto's arms to go up, opening the defenses around his chest.
He saw the elder man about to target his chest area but Makoto immediately remedied that by letting go of the bokken with one of his hands and lowering it to block the incoming attack, preparing himself for the pain upon impact but Jyubei immediately twisted his form, and went around his back. He switched his hold on the bokken and used the hilt to hit the back of Makoto's neck.
The white-haired child collapsed on the floor, vision blurring for a moment in response to the pain.
"Is this all that a blessed child can do?" Jyubei commented condescendingly, walking around his fallen form like a predator marking its prey, "What a disappointment."
"You talk as if you aren't the one getting off by beating a child half his size." Makoto choked on his breath, laughing dryly as he forced his body to stand up, "How pathetic."
The elder man furrowed his brows, glaring daggers at the child's quips, and immediately went to the offense. Jyubei swung his sword downward and Makoto immediately responded with a quick block that pushed him backward.
The sudden force caused his knees to collapse and he landed face-first on the ground. He groaned as he stood up despite his body aching in protest, using the bokken to support his weight. Makoto looked up only to see the zooming figure of Jyubei coming at him with a swing of his sword, hitting him harshly on the sides of his head, and throwing him across the dojo room with a loud crash.
Cough, cough
Makoto spat blood on the pristine wooden floors, vision blurring and ears ringing from the pain he just received. He huffed, taking a deep, iron-filled breath as he wiped the blood on his white sleeves. He looked up and saw Jyubei smirking at him sadistically, enjoying the pain that he is causing his young student.
"How does it feel, blessed child?" He taunted, pointing his wooden sword at his fallen form, "To be under the blade of someone below you."
Makoto tried to give back one of his snarky replies but was unable to due to the sharp pain in his jaw. It's broken, he diagnosed as he tried to move it, he spat out a tooth as he prepared for another round of combat, glaring in reply instead.
He ran towards his opponent, screaming his throat hoarse in frustration over his weakness. Makoto's attacks began rushing rapidly, abandoning all defenses in his reckless barrage which Jyubei deflected all effortlessly.
The elder man slipped behind him and with a backward slash of his bokken, hit Makoto's lower back forcing him onto his knees. He immediately followed it with another downward slash but Makoto's instincts were faster, hastily putting his bokken in front of him to block the hit but Jyubei swiftly switch forms, slashing upwards immediately after his foiled attack, forcing Makoto to let go of his sword from his grip.
Makoto watched as his bokken flipped in the air slowly as if it were in slow motion. Jyubei imbued his sword with raw cursed energy and instantly sliced the flying bokken in half with a powerful swing of his sword, leaving Makoto weaponless.
The long-haired man's attention immediately shifted to Makoto as the young child nervously pushed himself backward in panic-induced hysteria. Jyubei smirked, sadistically enjoying the delicious fear from the young child's face as he approached him like a bloodthirsty hound.
"Here you are, being given everything people like me have worked all their lives for just because you were born right." He taunted, mockingly staring at Makoto from above, "While the rest of us mere mortals suffer just cause the gods didn't bless us with the right gifts."
Makoto's heart raced rapidly as he tried to come up with any solutions to defend himself, the elder man clearly has lost his mind and he doesn't know what he was capable of in his blind anger.
"I was born under two highborn Gojos, bred with the right qualities and yet I pale in comparison just cause that bastard Makoto decided to bed some dirty whore he found in the street!" Jyubei continued, standing above the young child as he raised his bokken upwards, raw energy enveloping it as he prepared to mutilate his student.
"I DESERVE THAT SWORD!"
Shit! Shit! What should I do? What should I do? WhatshoudIdoI'mgonnadiepleasenoIdon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodieIdon'twa-
Call for me
Makoto felt something in him pull the trigger as he shut down the annoying voice in his head, his brain perceiving the moment in slow motion as he turned his head to the side, looking for the source of the call when he saw the golden gleam at the corner of his eyes.
I'm here
The sword.
He stretched out his arms, silently calling for the katana as it flew to his grip and time seem to go back to normal as Makoto immediately used it to block the powerful swing of Jyubei's sword. The said man's eyes widened in shock when he saw the sword appear in the young child's hands in a split second, coating the white-haired kid with borrowed power in a protective manner.
Jyubei immediately jumped back, skin stinging from just by being in the general vicinity of the child, making sure to create a large distance between him and his student but Makoto was faster and immediately appeared in front of Jyubei, swinging the katana with lightning speed however Jyubei blocked it in the last second.
But it was futile as the attack bled through his defenses and caused a giant diagonal slash to appear on his torso. The hit pushed Jyubei back with a powerful force, blasting him through the walls of the dojo towards the outdoor training courtyard. His body rolled over the gravel, painting it red with his blood as he coughed from the dirt that he inhaled accidentally.
A sharp flare of pain shot through Jyubei's nerves as his body finally caught up to his injury, he looked down at his torso as he tried to press it down with his ruined sleeves, trying to futilely slow down the bleeding.
He looked up and saw Makoto coming out of the hole he blasted through, blessed eyes glowing from the distance, body coated in blue cursed energy, flickering in the air like wildfire. The same aura wrapped around the sword he was wielding, blue fire consuming it as the scabbard vaporized in the air, showing the razor-sharp blade; its fabled engraving gleaming at him mockingly.
"I should have known that sword would respond to you." Jyubei spat bitterly, soaking the ground with more of his blood, "Exactly like your embarrassment of a father."
"I don't know what that sword sees in weaklings like you." Jyubei said as he shakily stood up, head already turning faint from the blood loss but he marched through the pain and chose to prepare another fighting stance, "Why don't I prove that sword why I'm the better candidate."
"I'll make sure to reunite the son to his whore of a mother."
Makoto felt power rushing through him as he walked closer to his enemy, he felt his injuries rapidly heal as he took one heavy step after another. His jaw cracked back into place as he felt a tingling sensation in his mouth as he regrew the tooth that he just spat moments ago.
His footsteps left behind a small crater with every step that he took closer to Jyubei, the earth rumbling with every power that radiated from him. He eyed his sword deliberately as he felt it pulse in his hand, beckoning him to bring harm to the poor fool in front of him.
The former master and disciple stared at each other in a moment of tense silence,
Jyubei decided to attack first, assessing that he doesn't have much time before he passed out of blood loss, he had to finish this fast- consequences be damned! He wanted this abomination gone!
He sent out a continuous onslaught of cursed-infused slashes on the nimble kid who answered every single attack of his with a block of his own. Makoto slashed his katana on the elder man's sides but he overreached causing him to create an opening on his left side which Jyubei immediately took note of, twisting his body in a series of complicated footwork, sending a slash of his on the boy's left thigh but it was promptly blocked by the katana he coveted.
Jyubei rapidly answered back with another swing of his sword which Makoto speedily avoided clumsily. Seeing the boy's slight imbalance, Jyubei tried to go for his knees but Makoto nimbly jumped over his sword, landing on the elder man's backside.
He tried to go for a surprise back attack but Jyubei pushed his back harshly into the ground and ran further to create a bit of a distance between them. Makoto slid into the ground but anchored his weight with his left hand, switching direction as pushed himself up to chase the fleeing man.
Makoto jumped into the air to give himself momentum and raised his katana to attack the man with a downward slash only for him to turn around at the last second, meeting his sword with an unmoving block.
Jyubei rapidly switched forms as he tried to slash at the kid's neck only for Makoto to dodge it with a slight tilt of his head. He tried again by striking through the child's head only for him to dodge it again by bowing slightly, turning his head under the cursed-infused bokken.
Makoto can feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he continued to dodge the man's rapid attacks. He has almost forgotten what it's like without his glasses, it's like he can perceive the world better, predict and see every outcome of every move he's about to make. Like he's seeing the world in multiple directions all at the same time and somehow still making sense of it.
The white-haired child decided to shut down his brain once again and focus on his instincts instead. He can think things through later when this is done and over with, first he had to get rid of this man.
Jyubei noticed that the child's distraction for a split second and immediately targeted his sloppy footwork, sword immediately slashing through the kid's knees only for Makoto to jump high into the air, twisting his body elegantly as kicked the man's face only for it to be blocked.
As if in slow motion, Makoto's eyes saw an opening and he took it. Ignoring the cursed-infused bokken singeing through his hakama, still in mid-air, he used it as his anchor as he slashed through his enemy's sword hand, cutting it off cleanly from his forearm.
Jyubei yelled in pain as he collapsed on the ground, hand trying to lessen the bleeding from his stump. Makoto landed on the ground and nimbly twisted his body to round-house kick his former teacher into oblivion, body twisting into the air, blood splattering in a graceful curve as he crashed into the wooden engawa across the courtyard, landing face down.
He huffed tiredly as he tried to catch his breath, eyeing the destroyed training ground as Jyubei's blood splattered into the once pristine yard.
"STAY AWAY!"
Makoto slowly approached Jyubei's delirious form as he shouted in fear, blessed eyes glowing darkly.
"STAY AWAY, YOU MONSTER!"
The young child arrived in front of Jyubei as the injured man tried to fruitlessly crawl backward, destroyed wood sinking into his skin that his body is too numb to feel. Makoto squatted in front of his fallen form, fisting his hair and pulling Jyubei's body upwards despite his scalp screaming in pain from trying to support the man's heavy weight.
He leveled Jyubei's eyes to meet his cursed eyes point blank; Jyubei stared at him in fear, seeing calamity in the form of a young boy.
"There's nothing wrong with being a whore."
"What do you know about suffering?" Makoto spat, staring at him with unrestrained anger, "Living here in this cushy mansion, being served on hand and foot by servants."
Makoto harshly banged Jyubei's head into the ruined wooden floors, destroying it further as he embossed the man's face onto it. The man cried out in pain as blood flew out of his broken nose and splinters poked through his once beautiful face.
"You know nothing about suffering and you know nothing about me."
"You. Know. Nothing." He hissed, continuing his assaults, head empty as he continued to bash Jyubei's face to emphasize his words.
Makoto stopped for a moment, intruding thoughts interrupting his mindless slaughter.
"Since you're so adamant about playing the victim." He whispered, smirking sadistically as he forced the delirious man to look into his eyes once again, "Why don't I make you one?"
Cursed energy exploded within the area as it covered the courtyard like a thick miasma, making it harder to breathe for the broken man. Jyubei tried to beg for forgiveness but it remained unintelligible due to his broken jaw and crushed teeth.
Makoto's eyes glowed and everything exploded.
Jyubei's last vision was the abyss inside the child's eye. His eyes rolled behind his head as saliva foamed in his mouth, his throat grumbling violently as he felt like he was drowning.
Silence filled the courtyard for a few moments before screams surrounded them, Makoto wasn't too sure where it was coming from as strength left his body, his grip on Jyubei's scalp turning weak, dropping his head as it thumped bloodily against the broken flooring.
Calamity left his body as he fell.
Sato Makoto closed his eyes and knew no more.
I was incredibly busy these last few weeks so I wasn't able to write, in apology, this chapter is a lot longer than the usual chapter length~
I hope I did the fight some justice, it's been a while since I last wrote a fight scene, and as much as I want to write it as glorious as I imagined it, I'm not that great at it. I'm still not satisfied with how it turned out, I felt like I reused a lot of words too often but it'll do, I guess.
Reference
Fude-oki (筆おき) – is a brush rest/holder used in traditional Japanese calligraphy, usually made out of porcelain or wood.
Seiza (正座) – is the formal, traditional way of sitting in Japan.
Kakun (家訓) – literally means family precept/motto, and refers to the principles that an individual Japanese family lives by.
Hashi-oki (箸置き) – is a chopstick rest/holder, usually made of wood, porcelain, or metal.
Names are important, especially in traditional East Asian families. I knew Chinese families that went ahead and consulted Feng Shui experts when naming their children and I can assume traditional Japanese families are also the same.
Chasen (茶筅) – literally means tea whisk, it's one of the key accessories in matcha preparation and it's usually made with bamboo.
Wagashi (和菓子) –are traditional Japanese confections that are often served with green tea.
Bokken (木剣) - is a Japanese wooden sword used for training in kenjutsu.
Kata (型 or 形) – literally means form, It refers to a detailed choreographed pattern of martial arts movements made to be practiced alone.
Keiko-gi (稽古着) – literally means practice clothes, is a traditional uniform worn for training in Japanese martial arts.
Kenjutsu (剣術) – is an umbrella term for all schools of Japanese swordsmanship.
Katana (刀 or かたな) - is a Japanese sword characterized by a curved, single-edged blade with a circular or squared guard and a long grip to accommodate two hands.
Metsu (滅) – Japanese word for annihilation.
Hakama (袴) – is a type of traditional Japanese clothing characterized by flowy cloth in the form of a trouser.