"Move," Toji snapped, brows furrowed as he glared at the man blocking his path. "You know what this fight means, don't you?"
"So what?"
Jinsuke turned to face him, eyes calm and unreadable.
For what? Pride? Revenge? To prove something to those idiots back home?
Of course he knew what Toji was thinking. But even if he defeated Satoru Gojo—so what?
If it was just about making the Zenin Clan regret the way they treated them, Jinsuke had already done plenty to make them regret it for a lifetime.
Seeing his brother's steady expression, Toji faltered. The spinning Inverted Spear of Heaven slowed in his hand, its deadly hum fading.
He realized, suddenly, how foolish he'd been.
If the reason he wanted to beat Gojo was to answer back to the Zenin Clan and the entire Jujutsu World that had scorned them—then he'd already lost.
Because somewhere along the way, he'd picked up the very thing he'd thrown away years ago—his pride.
"Tch. Mind your own damn business."
He shoved the weapon away and turned on his heel. He knew why Jinsuke was stopping him, but it still pissed him off. Just one year older, and his brother always had to act like some kind of elder.
Jinsuke exhaled in relief. Denying the Jujutsu World's hypocrisy wasn't something you could prove by beating one Satoru Gojo.
"Oi, oi, oi! You're just gonna walk off like that? Bit rude, don't you think?"
A voice echoed from above. Gojo floated in midair, blocking their path.
Sure, he was still savoring that "Heaven and Earth, I alone am honored" feeling—but watching these two turn their backs on him like he didn't exist? That stung a little.
"..."
Jinsuke blinked, taking in the blood-soaked, slightly deranged expression on Gojo's face. Right. He'd almost forgotten about this guy.
"Satoru... Gojo, right?" Jinsuke asked casually. "Riko Amanai isn't dead. We've got no beef with you. So unless you're inviting us to dinner, what's the point in staying?"
The conflict between them had started with Riko Amanai. But since she was still alive, there was no reason to fight.
They weren't curses—there was no need for a death match.
"Hmm…" Gojo frowned, thinking it over. "Riko's alive? But that guy just tried to kill me. That doesn't count as a grudge?"
So what—he wasn't allowed to avenge himself?
Jinsuke laughed. "And yet here you are—alive, stronger than ever. You awakened the Reverse Cursed Technique, didn't you? Seems to me you've gained more than you lost."
He clapped Gojo on the shoulder as he passed. "Remember this favor, Gojo. You owe me one."
Then he waved and walked off, leaving Gojo standing there in confusion.
"...What the hell does that even mean?"
Gojo raised his hand, half-preparing another technique—but hesitated.
He stayed like that until the two figures disappeared from sight.
"…So what, I'm supposed to thank them now?"
Landing slowly, Gojo rubbed his chin, still frowning. "Man... who the hell were those two?"
He didn't know it, but he actually had met the Zenin brothers once—over ten years ago, back when he was just a kid.
Before long, Suguru Geto and Riko Amanai found him.
"Gojo, are you okay?"
Riko looked worried too, though something about Gojo's calm eyes felt… off. "Did something happen?"
"Nothing much," Gojo said lightly. "Just ran into someone interesting."
Then his gaze softened as he looked at her. "You're here, huh, Riko? So you chose to leave. Figures… kids are such a hassle."
Riko puffed up, cheeks flushing with irritation. They were the ones who'd told her she had a choice—and now he was teasing her for taking it?
But deep down, warmth bloomed in her chest. For the first time in forever, she could actually look forward to her future.
"Gojo," Geto said, his tone suddenly serious. "You realize this is going to get us into serious trouble, right?"
Because of Riko Amanai, Tengen—or maybe the entire Jujutsu World—wasn't going to let them off easily.
"Scared, Geto?"
"Don't joke around. We're the strongest, remember?"
The three of them walked off together, their shadows stretching long in the setting sun—two tall, one small, merging into one.
"Hey, so," Jinsuke said with a perfectly straight face, "you've been living off a woman all these years?"
He gave Toji a disappointed look. "A grown man, perfectly healthy, and you're mooching off someone? You've really fallen far, Toji."
"I told you, that was in the past," Toji groaned. "I'm married into the Fushiguro family now."
Jinsuke sighed dramatically. "Married in, huh? Fine, fine. I heard you've got a kid too. Bring me to meet him sometime."
If his younger brother had a family now, maybe Jinsuke could forgive a few years of soft rice eating.
"Megumi, huh? Haven't seen him in years."
Toji's voice was flat. Clearly, he wasn't much of a father.
There was guilt buried in there somewhere—but he didn't know how to deal with it. So he'd done what he did best: run.
"Anyway," Toji said, crossing his arms, "it's your turn to explain. Why'd you leave without saying anything back then?"
The bitterness had mostly faded, but he still needed to know. The not knowing had eaten at him for years.
He remembered how the Zenin Clan had treated them—scorn, mockery, disdain.
Jinsuke had always acted like he didn't care. Until one day... something changed.
That day, the Zenin estate ran red.
Toji didn't know all the details, but after that, one-third of the clan was gone.
And Jinsuke vanished from the Jujutsu World completely.
When the Zenin finally spoke of him again, their sneers were still there—but now, behind them, there was fear.
Jinsuke was silent for a while before answering. "Didn't the old man tell you?"
He began to speak, voice calm, recounting the past like it was someone else's story.
Even when the clan mocked and despised him for having no Cursed Energy, he hadn't cared. What could they do—talk him to death?
He'd known the strength of Heavenly Restriction. He was too busy training, honing his body to perfection, to waste time on their petty insults.
But then some of them went too far.
They'd hurt his mother—the only warmth he'd ever known in that house.
And that was the one line he couldn't let them cross.
So he slaughtered them.
If his mother hadn't stopped him—if Naobito Zenin hadn't stepped in—the clan might've been wiped out entirely.
But when his mother begged him to spare them, he couldn't understand.
He'd screamed, they'd fought, and he'd left the Zenin Clan behind without looking back.
He drifted overseas after that—lost, reckless, and angry at the world.
Then one day, Naobito found him again. Told him his mother was dead.
That broke him.
For a long time, he didn't know what to do with himself.
Until he met Yuki Tsukumo.
Time dulled the anger, softened the confusion. Eventually, he stopped running from it all—until Toji's mess dragged him back into Japan.
There was only one regret left in him now.
He'd never gotten to see his mother one last time.