Satoru walked through the heart of the Zen'in estate with the ease of someone strolling through a park, hands in his pockets and a faint whistle escaping his lips. His sunglasses reflected the scenery around him, but the Six Eyes caught every movement, every whisper, every wary glance, and every fluctuation of cursed energy from someone who considered attacking him—only to think better of it.
'Looks like Naoya's already spread the word. Good, let them get nervous. Makes everything more fun,' Satoru thought, his smug smile growing. He passed by a group of children playing; one of them pointed at him curiously before being pulled away by an adult.
He continued on, his footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor, until a different presence made him slow down. The air shifted, thickened by a denser cursed energy. Satoru stopped, tilting his head slightly, and his grin widened. 'Here comes the big boss.'
"Gojo Satoru," a raspy voice broke the silence. Naobito Zen'in, the clan's patriarch, emerged from a side passage flanked by two stern-looking men. "What does the head of the Gojo clan think he's doing, barging into my territory uninvited?"
Satoru raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. "Wow, Naobito, is that any way to welcome a guest? Not even offering me tea? Oh, wait—you're more of a sake guy, right?" He stepped forward, ignoring the piercing gazes of Naobito's escorts, who looked ready to attack at any moment. "Relax, I'm just here for a friendly little chat. Nothing major."
Naobito let out a low grunt. "Friendly? You show up unannounced, intimidate my son, and walk through my estate like it's your own. That's not a visit—that's a provocation."
Satoru chuckled and adjusted his glasses, letting the Six Eyes peek out from behind the lenses just long enough to make Naobito's men take a cautious step back. "Please, if I meant you harm, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."
Naobito narrowed his eyes, studying the young man before him. "Tsk. Arrogant brat," he muttered—low enough to sound like an insult, but loud enough for Satoru to hear.
"Whoa, was that a compliment? Because I swear I felt a little affection there," Satoru shot back.
"Tsk." Naobito made a sharp gesture with his hand, dismissing the two Zen'in men. They hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, vanishing into the shadows of the corridor. "Follow me, Gojo."
Satoru raised an eyebrow but followed without hesitation, his light steps contrasting with the heavy tension in the air. Naobito led him through a maze of hallways until they reached a large, traditional Japanese room. Partially opened shoji doors allowed in the soft sunlight. The space was austere yet elegant: spotless tatami mats covered the floor, and a low lacquered wooden table sat in the center, flanked by zabuton cushions. Scrolls adorned the walls, and a faint scent of incense lingered in the air.
Naobito pointed to the table with a curt gesture. "Sit down," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Satoru shrugged and sat on the floor, casually crossing his legs in front of the table. "Such hospitality," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he watched Naobito move around the room.
The patriarch walked over to a dark wooden cabinet and took out two bottles of sake. With a swift motion, he tossed one of the bottles to Satoru, who caught it mid-air without effort, the smile never leaving his face. Naobito sat on the other side of the table, opened his bottle, and took a long swig.
"Haa!" Naobito exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Enough games, Gojo. Just say what you want."
Satoru spun the sake bottle between his fingers. 'I don't like drinking,' he thought, setting the bottle down on the table. "I want to talk about a certain boy. Megumi Fushiguro."
Naobito raised an eyebrow, the sake bottle frozen halfway to his mouth. "Never heard of him."
Satoru tilted his head, his smile taking on a hint of irony. "Toji Zenin's son. Ring any bells?"
The patriarch fell silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "From Toji, huh?" he murmured to himself, drumming his fingers on the table. "Hmph. I think we had a deal about that. We were going to buy the kid and bring him into the clan if he had a useful technique."
"Exactly!" Satoru clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "But here's the twist—I'm taking responsibility for the boy."
Naobito let out a short laugh, almost a bark. "No way, Gojo. Not until we know what his technique is. The Zenin clan doesn't give up what's rightfully ours."
Satoru leaned back, resting one elbow on the table. "Ah, but I already know what his technique is." He paused, letting the silence stretch, savoring the tension thickening in the air. "It's Ten Shadows."
The silence that followed was so heavy it seemed to swallow even the sound of the wind outside. Naobito froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a look of genuine shock.
Then, all of a sudden, he threw his head back and let out a thunderous laugh. "HAHAHAHA! The Ten Shadows? You're telling me that kid inherited that technique?" He slammed the table, causing Satoru's bottle to fall. "And you expect me to believe that without proof, Gojo?"
"Believe it or not, Naobito, Megumi has the Ten Shadows. And no, that doesn't mean he's going to become a puppet in your clan's hands," Satoru said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "I came here to make sure he has a chance to choose his own path. And if you try to interfere… well, let's just say I could turn your estate into a pretty interesting playground."
Naobito stopped laughing, his face hardening as he took another sip of sake, eyes locked on Satoru. "Who do you think you are, huh?" he asked, his voice cold as steel. "The Ten Shadows are our legacy. That kid is ours by blood right."
"Yeah, I've heard that whole 'blood' and 'legacy' speech before. Real cute, but kind of outdated, don't you think?"
"You think you're invincible, Gojo?" Naobito asked, his cursed energy starting to seep out. "You may have those shiny eyes and all that technique, but even you have limits. The Zen'in clan has brought down arrogant bastards like you before. Don't fool yourself into thinking you're untouchable."
"Well, well. Funny you say that, you know? Because out of the dozens of assassins you've sent to kill me, only one ever almost had a shot — and he was a rogue, hahaha," Satoru laughed, then suddenly turned deadly serious, his own cursed energy beginning to surge. "I hate you all, and I could wipe you off the map right now. But I'm not sure I feel like it. Know why? Because dealing with the aftermath would be such a damn hassle."
Satoru paused, letting the words hang in the air. "So, I thought of a better idea. Let's make a deal. I'll forget our whole history. No revenge, no payback for your pathetic murder attempts. In return, you don't interfere in any aspect of Megumi's life. What do you say? It's a pretty generous offer, if you ask me."
"Tsk." Naobito took another sip of sake, the movement slow and deliberate, but his eyes never left Satoru. 'That brat... he's changed. It's not just arrogance anymore. It's like he'd really go through with what he says.' The image of the Zen'in clan reduced to ashes flashed through his mind, and he swallowed hard, the taste of the sake now bitter on his tongue.
"So~? Do we have a deal?"
***
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.