Chapter Text
1994
This is the brightest she’s ever seen the moon shine.
Sitting by the engawa is Kita Yumie. She stares back up at the moon, holding up a hand as she watches the moon’s pearl aureole seep through the cracks in between her spread-out fingers, they paint her palm with the purest white that not even special-grade curses can corrupt. She’s retiring, so she makes the most with her remaining stay in the estate, which has been her home for decades. She’s been one of their most loyal servants, which is something she’s proud of.
Today is the birth of Zenin Naobito’s youngest child. It’s a very big and important matter in the Zenin estate, everyone treats it as a national holiday. She heard all the other maids gossip about this when she passed them by in the halls. They chatter about how young Naoya won’t be so pampered anymore because of his soon-to-be born baby brother. They wonder how powerful this child will be once he grows older – will he inherit the Zenin’s ten shadows? They wonder how the baby would look, will he have fair skin just like his mother? Will he have his father’s strong, authority-seeking eyes? How will his hair look like – will it be dark like the shadows of the Zenins? Or rather, light like the afterglow of tonight’s full moon?
Naobito is already in his fifties – so it seems this will be the last child of his. His wife is only a bit younger than him, and she’ll eventually get her menopause sooner or later after the birth of this baby. The youngest children are always considered as a godsent, so Yumie has high expectations for this kid.
Suddenly, she hears footsteps and can feel the engawa creak beneath her within each one. “Kita-san! We need your help!”
“Hmm, for what perhaps must that be?” Yumie retreats her hand and turns to the younger maid.
“We’re in need of assistance for Zenin-sama’s labor. One of the midwives couldn’t make it!”
Yumie chuckles. “Hush now dear, there’s no need to panic.” She gets up as her getas clack upon contact with the wooden floor.
She follows the other servant in the house, where other servants are busy hustling around, not exactly running but not exactly walking either. Numerous maids carry towels around and she even spots a few carrying wooden buckets filled with water. It’s really lively in days like this – in days where another Zenin is being brought into the world; another gift from the heavens, another protector of humankind from curses. As an individual from one of the three major clans, being a Zenin means wielding great power, great responsibility.
Despite the busyness overwhelming the walls of the estate, Yumie walks like she has all the time in the world. She doesn’t hurry – hurrying is for the brash. Multiple servants bumped into her already, and they did not think twice to apologize. Being a head maid, Yumie is greatly respected for her loyalty to the clan. She brushes each apology off and with a gentle voice, tells them to be more careful next time – because they can get into trouble if they carelessly collide with a crude Zenin.
Once they arrive at the front door of the master’s bedroom, the younger maid slowly knocks. After a few seconds, she carefully opens the door and enters with Yumie behind her. “Ichigo-san, Kita-san’s here.”
“Thank goodness, please let her in. Zenin-sama’s almost in labor.” One of the maids sitting on a stool by the bedside says. Yumie closes the door behind her and observes the scene. Naobito’s wife is lying in the bed, a pained expression shows on her face marked by the wrinkle of her brows, the hard line of her frown and her tightly closed eyes.
Yumie has helped with four deliveries in the clan, all of which are from Naobito’s wife. Her last delivery was Naoya, and her final one will be today. Her bags are packed already, and she’ll officially be retired by tomorrow. She takes a vacant seat reserved just for her by the bedside, and gestures for a maid to give her a clean cloth. Soon, she gently wipes the forehead of the woman in agony. “Good evening Zenin-sama, how are you feeling?”
Her calm, hummingbird-like voice is enough to make the crease in between the woman’s eyebrows disappear. “Yumie-san, it’s nice to see you… but it hurts.”
“Shh, you’re going to be alright, Zenin-sama. This baby is going to be a blessing. Please hold on.” Yumie coos, continuing to wipe the sweat off her delicate skin.
Naobito’s wife nods, the feeling of familiarity comforting her. Out of all the maids, she trusts Yumie the most. She’s been a motherly figure to her ever since she was forced into marrying Naobito – she’s been one of the only people she finds comfort in.
The moon is in its peak when the delivery concludes. After screams of pain and worried faces, the cry of a child rings around the room. It echoes throughout the walls, a reminder of the blessing that descended from heaven on the night of a full moon. After the exhaustion of the mother overwhelms her, she drifts off to sleep with the baby still crying in her hold. Yumie slowly takes the baby and rocks him, so that his cries won’t disturb his sleeping mother.
Yumie observes this baby. Soft strands of white barely cover his scalp. These strands end with dark, inky tips. He looks just like his older brother, except that Naoya’s hair is a light shade of gold – unlike the baby’s. As he wails once more, Yumie hushes, humming a lullaby afterwards. She looks out the window, the moon pleasantly greets her with its radiant grace. Reminded of home, she starts to sing.
“Odo ma bon-giri bon-giri”
(As soon as Bon comes,)
“Bon kara sakya orando”
(I will leave for my hometown.)
“Bon ga hayo kurya hayo modoru”
(Let it be soon, so I can go home.)
“Odo ma kanjin kanjin”
(I am no better than a beggar.)
“An hito-tacha yo kashu”
(They are rich people,)
“Yo kashu yoka obi yoka kimono”
(With good obi and good kimono.)
“O don ga u-chin (da) chyute”
(Who will cry for me)
“Dai ga naite kuryoka”
(When I die?)
“Ura no matsuyama semi ga naku”
(Only the cicadas in the mountains.)
“Semi ja gozan senu”
(No, it’s not cicadas.)
“Imo to de gozaru”
(It’s my little sister.)
“Imo to naku na yo ki ni kakaru”
(Don’t cry, little sister, I will be sad for you.)
“O don ga u-chin daba”
(When I am dead,)
“Michibata ikero”
(Bury me by the roadside.)
“Tooru hito go chi hana a gyuru”
(The passers-by will lay flowers for me.)
“Hana wa nanno hana”
(What flowers would they lay?)
“Tsun-tsun tsubaki”
(Cam-cam- camellias)
“Mizu wa ten kara moraimizu”
(Water falling down from above.)
Itsuki no Komoriuta or the Itsuki lullaby is a Japanese folk song that originated in Itsuki village from the Kumamoto prefecture. Yumie might’ve been from Hyogo, but her grandmother was from Kumamoto. As a little girl, her grandmother would sing those reminiscent lyrics to her in an angel’s voice – it was as if a nightingale was singing to her.
At the end of the song, the baby is consumed by slumber, similar to his mother. His soft snores bless Yumie’s ears, like rain to a drought. She then recalls the time when she delivered Naoya – he was a bundle of trouble. No matter how much Yumie tried to rock and sing to him, he never stopped crying. Even in the arms of his own mother, he never ceased his wailing. That attitude grew with him, he is short-tempered and always belittled others – especially the maids. He always argued back with his parents and he never got along with his older brothers. He wasn’t that much respectful to his uncles either. Yumie had feared that the baby would be like him, but after observing the state of tranquility he immediately settles in, a flicker of hope appears – hope that he would be as trusting and kind as his mother.
As of the moment, the child is unnamed. Naobito is currently out, fetching a curse specialist he hired to appraise the baby. His wife on the other hand, couldn’t gather the strength to think of a name before she gave in to sleep. If Yumie were to name this child, she’d pick the name Shinsuke. A kanji used in this name means trust and the other, assistance. It would be very suitable for him – a representation of his mother’s trust towards Yumie and Yumie’s loyal assistance toward his mother.
She smiles once more towards the little boy. She prays that the deities above will grant him an equilibrium of peace and power.
After the arrival of Naobito, Yumie is excused. She bows down respectfully as she exits the room the same time the head of the clan enters, with the curse specialist trailing behind him. The baby is no longer in her hold, he’s already in the arms of another maid as they wait for their sleeping master to wake up. As Yumie steps into the hall, she can see a few maids provoking young Naoya – who is barely a decade old.
“Hmm, what are you gonna do now that mommy and daddy’s attention isn’t at you anymore?” One of the maids snicker.
“I don’t need their attention! And don’t talk back to me! Just because a stupid baby is born, doesn’t mean anything’s changed in here! I am still better than all you lowlifes!” Naoya exclaims.
“Oh, I wonder how much better this baby will be…” The other maid sighs dreamily, an obvious attempt to further hype up the spoiled young master. “I bet he’ll be kind and patient and–“
“He doesn’t matter! Whatever happens, he’ll be nothing compared to me when he grows up! I am the strongest Zenin!”
Before the other maids can say anymore, Yumie steps up. If they keep being noisy like this outside of the master’s bedroom, it can greatly inconvenience Naobito and his wife. As much as possible, Yumie doesn’t want to stress her, especially after labor. “Taka, Kyuri, why are you provoking the young master?”
“Ah, Kita-san!” They both say in unison. Without hesitating, they bow down in front of her. “We’re sorry!”
Yumie lets out an exhale of exhaustion. “Please put your heads up, I am no one worth bowing down to. Just tell me why you are teasing Naoya-sama.”
“Kita-san, we all have a similar dislike towards ‘young master’. Even you do.” The maid named Taka draws finger quotes in the air, an expression of irony. “Let’s be honest, everyone here respects you more than that brat.”
Naoya is angered by this. “Who are you calli–“
“I suppose that’s true. But then again, nothing will change the fact that he’s still our master. I advise you to not engage in altercations with him.” Yumie cuts off the tempered boy before any other argument can begin.
Both maids nod in agreement and humbly bow to show their respect once more. With that, Yumie excuses them and they walk off to resume other duties. Her attention now diverts to Naoya. “Run off to your room and stop causing trouble for everyone else.”
“You know, it’s so annoying how people respect you and not me. You’re just a maid, I’m a Zenin.” Naoya snarls.
“Young master, why don’t you start caring for other people like how your mother does? You’re surely to gain respect with that.” Yumie says with indifference. She’s used to the younger’s ill behavior. It astounds her because his mother is a very kind woman. His father might not be such, but he’s still got an ounce of dignity in him. This child however, couldn’t care about other people. To those under him, he would treat them as mere dirt and to those above him, he would persistently exclaim that he would surpass them. To Naoya, no matter who you are, you will always be nothing compared to him.
“I don’t need anyone else, I’m the strongest.” Naoya hisses.
Yumie arches a brow. “Even stronger than the Gojo clan’s young heir?”
“I am yet to surpass him.” The little boy glares.
“If that’s what you say, young master.” Yumie acquiesces even when there’s absolutely no possibility of that happening. The fate is sealed in the jujutsu world – the youngest Gojo was already appraised to have the most potential in being the strongest shaman when his age comes, it’s as if it was told by the prophets themselves. “But please stop causing trouble, Naoya-sama. Your little brother was just born.”
“Oh, I don’t care about him…” Naoya shrugs and closes his eyes. As he opens them, he gives a deadly stare towards the servant.
“…I would kill him, if I could.”
Yumie’s eyes widened slightly. Even if he wasn’t entirely serious about this, she knows that he does in fact have the ability to do so – he’s a Zenin with a developing technique. Curse specialists evaluated him to eventually become a special grade. Nonetheless, she regains her usual, stoic composure. “This is why no one respects you, young master. Never ask again why a mere servant has garnered more respect than you’ll ever get.”
Naoya rolls his eyes and walks away. “Whatever, old hag! You’re retiring tomorrow anyways! I won’t have to see your dumb face anymore!”
As the spoiled child’s figure starts to disappear, Yumie hears voices from inside the master bedroom. She knows she should ignore it, but the conversation seems to have piqued her interest. She asks the gods for forgiveness for her nosiness as she inches her ear closer to the door. It seems like nobody will be opening it any sooner.
“I can’t sense any cursed energy in this child.” The curse specialist ascertains. “The possibility of him manifesting a technique is very rare, close to none.”
“But he’s a Zenin.” Naobito counters.
“It’s not unheard of for normal children to be born into prestigious clans.”
“This can’t be!” The head of the clan vocalizes his disbelief. “This is a disgrace to the clan – bad luck!”
It’s true. There’s a belief that if a child without cursed energy is born into a clan of shamans, then the clan will be considered weak – because it serves as an indication that their power is atrophying. There used to be more than three major bloodlines, but they ceased to be considered as clans due to the declining numbers of cursed children born. Now, it’s down to three – Gojo, Kamo and Zenin.
“What are you planning to do with the baby, Zenin-sama?”
Silence takes the stage as Naobito contemplates on what’ll happen to the baby.
“He’ll have to die.”
Yumie’s breath hitches as her fingernails harshly dig on the thick wood of the walls beside the door.
“No! You can’t kill him!” Naobito’s wife refuses to let this happen – not to her youngest son.
“He’s a dishonor to us. What will the Gojo and Kamo clans say when they learn that the head of the Zenin clan has a son without cursed energy?” Naobito argues.
“Naobito, he’s your son.” His wife pleads.
“That’s Naobito-sama for you.” The authoritative man scolds. An idea then appeals to him that will make this whole exchange interesting. “My dear wife,” He starts, voice amalgamating with unalloyed sarcasm. “I want you to get rid of him. Kill him or abandon him in the forest – I don’t care what you do as long as he’s gone by sunrise. If I still hear a baby’s cries around the estate,”
He pauses to flash an iniquitous curve of lips. “I’ll have both your heads fed to the cursed spirits.”
Color fades from the once, vigorous and joyful face of his wife. She sends a silent plea to the gods that her cruel husband might reconsider. But alas, she can’t do anything – she was married by force to Naobito and he doesn’t even treat her as a wife. In his eyes, he can only see her as a tool, as an object that can bear him children and continue the reign of the Zenins.
She was supposed to give him the most powerful children, and Naobito believed that she did. That was until tonight, when she gave birth to a normal baby just an hour and a half ago.
Yumie hears the cries of Naobito’s wife. She quickly runs away, not wanting to hear more of the unfortunate fate of the newborn boy, cries and cursed words echoing in her mind.
If she thought Naobito was evil, then this situation is the nail in the coffin. She’s now sure that not all Zenins are gifts from heaven. Not Naobito.
Her heart aches for his wife – for the mother who’s just about to lose her child.
Zenins might just be as impure as actual curses.
She’s back sitting on the engawa, a sad sigh escapes her and then goes to amalgamate with the cold air of night. The moon knows her thoughts, it sympathizes with her and her female master. She wonders what will become of the little boy – she refuses to think that he’ll die tonight, just hours after his birth. She’s lost track of time, only knowing that the moon is at its peak, and it will be setting soon; returning the sky back to the sun for another day to cover up the events of this unfortunate night. She’s sad for the moon too – she’s sad that the moon might have to witness birth and death in the same setting.
No one deserves to die before seeing the world, especially not an innocent young boy.
“Yumie-san.”
The servant hears her name being called, so she follows the direction it came from. As she steps foot into the more secluded part of the estate – the part where the moon doesn’t grace its light at, she finds Naobito’s wife who stays hidden in the shadows – just like how she’s obligated to stay in the shadows of her own husband. Opal tears gather in the corner of her eyes as she holds her baby tight.
And then Yumie notices the child bundled in her frail arms. She hears the same soft snores earlier. Oh how her heart aches for this boy; the boy who hasn’t seen the world yet, the boy who has been figuratively cursed by his own bloodline.
“Yumie-san.” Naobito’s wife chokes on a sob. “Yumie-san, I’ve been told to kill him, but I don’t want to.”
“Shh, dear don’t cry.” Yumie wipes away her tears as they fall to be forgotten in the shadows. She pretends to be surprised, because nobody knows that she has been eavesdropping on that conversation. “Why?”
Naobito’s wife explains what Yumie already knows, and with each word her heart breaks a little more as the tears keep streaming down her face. Yumie continues to wipe them off and hush her with reassuring words, despite not knowing what to do.
Fortunately, the other woman does.
“Yumie-san, take him with you.”
The servant only looks at the other – stunned. But then again, there’s nothing else to do. It’s either the baby dies or his head along with his mother’s will be on display in the walls of the estate by the coming day – Yumie will be gone from the estate by then. The mother has no choice but to say goodbye to her child, and to only wish him the best.
“Yumie-san this is my final order for you as your master.” She swallows a sob, determination taking over her tear-stained face. “My final order is for you to take care of my son. I’m entrusting him to you.”
Yumie can see the pain in her eyes, how much she wants to keep holding her child for days, years to come. The wrath of the Zenins is too vile for her – for the woman who tolerated this cursed life for four decades.
Having no choice, Yumie bows before her. “You shall be followed, Zenin-sama.”
Naobito’s wife continues to sob as she holds her child close to her chest – to where her heart is. She holds him tightly, because this is the last time she’ll get to do so. “I love you.” She whispers to the sleeping baby. “Your mother loves you so much. I’m so sorry.” She says in between sniffs and shaky breaths.
Yumie has never felt such anger towards the head of the clan. She clenches her fist as she makes a silent promise, the moon above her is her witness.
“Zenin-sama, have you named the child yet?” Yumie asks as the little boy is finally being transferred to her arms – to her care.
The other woman shakes her head. She continues to sob, “I couldn’t think of a name, not when his life is in danger.”
“May I… name him?” Yumie asks quietly, almost a mumble. It would be too much to ask a favor from her master. If anything, the maid grants all the master’s requests, not the other way around.
But the other woman only smiles, a contradiction to the tears of despair that paint the canvas of her face. “Sure Yumie-san, what would you name him?”
Yumie looks down to the child in her arms as she continues to rock him. “Shinsuke. I’ll name him Shinsuke – trust and assistance.”
The mother of the child smiles more. “Yeah, I’d love that.” She then approaches the baby and leans down to give a kiss on his forehead. “Do you like your name, Shinsuke?”
The baby continues to snore in response. Such a heavy sleeper.
And as Yumie watches her master inevitably say goodbye to her son, she repeats her promise.
By her master’s orders, she’ll take this child far, far away from the Zenins.
She’ll cut the curse of a blood tie.
2012
Time really is the most terrifying curse.
It’s just there – but we really aren’t aware of it. We shrug the thought off, thinking it’s just a phenomenon that compliments the infinite space of the universe.
But Yumie now knows better than to underestimate time, because it feels as if it was just yesterday that she last stepped foot in the Zenin estate, discreetly carrying a baby in her basket.
Currently however, she’s seated in front of the baby – who is not a baby anymore. Now eighteen, Shinsuke proudly carries a black jersey with the number one printed on both its front and back. His eyes crinkle in fulfilment as the usually stoic line of his lips now curves. “Granny, look!”
It was the happiest Yumie has seen him. The sparkles in Shinsuke’s eyes show hope and happiness. After years of dedication to volleyball, he can finally participate in an official match – what’s more, he’s captain . He hadn’t had a proper team jersey back in middle school, so now having one with a bold line underneath the number is of great significance to him, a reminder and product of his diligence.
Oh how his mother would be proud.
Shinsuke has grown to be how Yumie perceived him to be during the first time she saw him – when she delivered him. He’s patient, polite and thoughtful of the wellbeing of others. He always helps her even when she doesn’t ask, always insisting that she rests. He cares so much for his teammates and the others around him. He is just like his mother – same smile , same heart .
Yumie smiles back at him. “My Shinsuke is all grown-up. Why don’t we celebrate by cooking up a meal, I’ll go–“
“No granny.” Shinsuke puts down the jersey and folds it neatly – all without his smile never fading. “I’ll be the one to cook for tonight. Ye’ should rest your joints or they might get achy again.” He then stands up and excuses himself, heading towards the kitchen to wash the rice.
The old lady’s smile only grows. For the past eighteen years, Yumie did her best to hide Shinsuke from his origins. She never taught him about the underlying world of curses, she never said a thing to him about his parents. Questions like these are inevitable, however she still manages to dodge them. But then again, the older Shinsuke grows, the more he acts on his curiosity; the more likely he is to find out.
Then she frowns. Just because she’s able to conceal the truth, doesn’t mean it can warrant that Shinsuke will never find out. Despite having grown up without cursed energy, despite having grown up without a cursed spirit in sight, the cold truth still sits stubbornly in the center of the shadows that hid his identity;
He’s still a Zenin.
Blood ties never die, or so they say.