Chapter Text
Abandoned by those who were meant to shield him from harm, the one who’d grown up as such a disappointment to his family wandered the desolate alleys of neglect, his footsteps echoing hollow against the cold, unforgiving pavement. As hunger tore into his stomach like a ravenous beast, while the bitter winds of winter whipped through his form, depriving him of what little dignity remained that had deterred him from leaving, he was left with nothing but the skeletons of his prior hopes.
That man was no other than Toji Zen’in. Alias; the Zen’in Clan’s mistake.
But, in all fairness, what else did those people expect? For Toji to accept the scars, bruises and marks they had inflicted on his body?
Perhaps, that would have spared one or the other a lot of “real-life” troubles, but that someone wouldn’t have been Toji.
Even during the times where he hadn’t been mistreated by his family, Toji had been a rather wild and troublesome child. Simple things such as filling a mere glass of water didn’t go by perfectly often. One spill here or there. Glass shards on the wooden floor. Whilst that wasn’t exactly avoidable, his parents, specifically his father, saw it as a major flaw. The way his heart would jump out of the boy’s chest each time his hand even remotely stroke the glass in itself was unfortunately indication enough.
Yelling and tremendous insults were never a foreign concept in the Zen’in household. It was almost as if it was a trait which had been rooted deep inside of their DNA, alongside one unfortunate fate after the other.
Despite his flaws, Toji had been a mostly happy child up until the age of 6.
His mother, Tsumugi Zen’in, did a good job in raising him and teaching him what was necessary for a common boy of one of the three major clans. So, he had to master the art of literacy already by the mere age of 5, and was expected to grasp difficult math equations just the same.
Contrary to many beliefs, he was quite the smart and bright young man. Toji would never object to a challenge, and his mother knew that. She would purposely make him study in a way that made it fun and carried along a reward in the long run.
Toji’s strengths didn’t merely lie in academics. Just like with those, martial arts and weapon-wielding were fortunately easily picked up on. In fact, there was a time where his father saw genuine pride in being able to refer to Toji Zen’in as his son. Toji was by far the strongest in his age-group in the Zen’in clan, and most elders already rumoured that he must possess a great cursed technique which would have to do with that capability.
But… he did not. Toji Zen’in didn’t possess any cursed technique at all.
And such a thing, a missing trait he couldn’t be blamed for, became his utter damnation.
Unlike his older brother, Jinichi Zen’in, there would never be a big celebration with games of Katanuki or Hanetsuki, his favourite foods and colours and a gigantic mountain of presents in all shapes and forms in Toji’s name, for he was a failure and a disappointment.
He was barely 7 when his father, Takushi Zen’in, began to disregard his presence whenever it was needed. No accomplishments were enough any longer, and every smile on Toji’s lips served Takushi a reminder of the repulsion he felt upon seeing it.
And just like that, the once relatively happy boy was no longer. Toji himself became a mere shell of himself.
He was forced to watch from the sidelines as his brother basked in the glow of his father’s and everyone else’s approval, whilst he himself remained invisible and forgotten.
As the years wore on, Toji's spirit grew weary under the weight of unfulfilled potential, his once bright green eyes dimmed by the harsh realities of his despised existence. He longed for the warmth of acceptance, for a glimpse of the love and validation that had eluded him during the past time.
Even his mother who clung onto the very last hopes that, perhaps, Toji could be a late bloomer, was eventually prone to realise that it was completely and utterly useless. And thus, she also turned his back on him and refused to educate, or even interact with him at all.
Toji, despite his various other capabilities, now served as a reminder of all that he could have been but never was.
He was barely 13 when he learned that he was saver wearing his pain like armour to shield himself from the relentless onslaught of rejection which served to hide the actual indifference underneath.
But, Toji could try to protect himself all he wanted, because deep within, the wounds it caused festered and refused to ever heal.
Toji Zen’in might have lacked cursed energy, but in the eyes of those who mattered most, he was still cursed.
On his way to adulthood, Toji grew bitter. His hatred for his family and all those in the sorcerer world were overwhelming his insides, completely engulfing all he’d ever been and would perhaps ever be. The weight of exactly that bitterness bore down upon him like an insurmountable burden. With each passing moment, day, week and month, his once vibrant spirit grew dim, consumed by the suffocating grip of despair.
Each interaction with his once so beloved family members served as a painful reminder of the fractures that had irreparably marred their relationships, all because of what was supposedly Toji’s own fault. It was truly sickening and Toji didn’t wish to support them in any sense any longer.
Their insidious machinations and self-serving agendas poisoned the very air he breathed, suffusing his surroundings with an atmosphere of mistrust and deception. But that wasn’t anything new or special. Kids in the Zen’in Clan weren’t born out of love. They were practically bred to attain more powerful cursed techniques than those before. And if that failed, then those kids were worth as much as a rat straight out of the gutter.
The world around Toji seemed to grow increasingly bleak with each passing day he spent inside of the Clan’s properties, the colours fading to shades of grey as he struggled to find purpose in a reality that offered only emptiness and lies. How could one feel truly happy in a place such as this one?
Despite the man’s efforts to gain the same ignorance as his parents, he inevitably felt the strings of a severe depression grip onto him, dragging him deep into the abyss of darkness his soul couldn’t escape from. It threatened to consume him whole during many times of his life.
If it hadn’t been for his subconscious fear to die, he would have surely hung himself over the kitchen table in his parents’ house to give them a fright and maybe… just maybe, make them feel even an ounce of guilt for what they’d put him through.
When Toji was around the age of 16, he got into perhaps the worst fight with his father.
“Why is it that you must always be such a disappointment, Toji?! Every day you spend here should make you thankful!” Takushi Zen’in, Toji’s father, exclaimed angrily, his veins seemingly almost popping on his forehead in the process. Toji thought he looked like a red, hot-air balloon.
“Thankful?! For what? For your ignorance? For mother’s hateful looks she gives me each time I voice my opinion? For being born ?!” The boy gave back and his teeth grit whilst his hands balled into tight fists, threatening to puncture his skin with his nails.
Takushi threw the hot coffee mug at Toji upon hearing his response, which the boy could only dodge at the very last moment thanks to his naturally quick reflexes.
Toji’s green eyes were wide open in both shock and disbelief. his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the shattered remnants scattered across the floor. He had been beaten before, terribly so, but his father had never dared risking burning his own son. This was a first.
Toji's wide-eyed shock quickly gave way to a seething fury as his father's words cut deep, each barb a painful reminder of his perceived worthlessness in the eyes of the one who should have loved him unconditionally. The sting of his father's betrayal burned like a searing brand upon his soul.
“You ungrateful brat! Your mother went through 9 months of incredible struggle to press your overgrown head and useless being out of her by the end of it! Be happy we still feed you, boy!”
The fight in itself erupted because of what seemed like a rather trivial matter. Toji had made a passing remark, a slight deviation from the established norms and traditions that governed their household. It was a small act of defiance, a subtle rebellion against the suffocating expectations that threatened to choke the life out of him. And it’d bite him in the ass yet again.
To his father, it was an unforgivable transgression with blatant disregard for his highly valued principles. In his eyes, Toji’s words were not just incredibly disrespectful, but a direct challenge to his authority as a father and high-ranking Clan member.
And so, what had actually begun as a simple disagreement had quickly escalated into a full-blown screaming match.
In that moment, Toji harboured a venomous hatred for everything his father represented. His oppressive traditions, the impossible expectations, the cold indifference that had thoroughly defined their relationship the last few years. All of it.
His resentment set in deep, and it was as though Toji could feel the flames of pure hatred ignite within his chest.
His entire being trembled with sheer force of the internal rage that had been desperately trying to get out for ages now, threatening to finally consume him whole.
“If you hate me this much, why didn’t you toss me out yet, old man?!” Toji then yelled back at his father surprisingly loudly. Of course, his voice had already been raised before, but never to this extent. It was generally forbidden to disrespect one's elders within this Clan, so more than one rule had been broken that day. Within minutes.
Takushi’s face contorted into a mask of fury, his dark eyes narrowing with an intensity that almost bordered on madness. The veins in his old, wrinkly neck bulged grotesquely, pulsating almost aggressively.
“You insolent fool!” The man screamed, his words a snarl that dripped with disdain. His own hands trembled now as well, his fists clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned white.
“You’re asking for me to discipline you, Toji? Is that what you’re doing?!”
Using Toji’s state of temporary shock, Takushi grabbed him by the arm, his fingernails digging into his skin rather deeply. If Toji didn’t have as much muscle as he had by now, it’d have hurt quite a lot.
“Come with me, now!” His father demanded and managed to drag the stunned Toji along, although it took major efforts and Takushi was sweating after a mere 10 metres already. Given all the time Toji had at hand before, he had put it into physical training, which had very visibly paid off well.
If the boy wanted to, he could have freed himself with ease. But his internal, child-like fear, stopped him from doing so. In this moment, he was that scared 9 year old kid that cried for his father to stop hitting and yelling at him over and over again until his tears were replaced by pained screams and choked up blood that prevented the sobs from leaving his body.
And so, despite the strength that lay dormant within him, Toji remained tethered to his father's side, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and resignation. In the depths of his soul, he knew that breaking free from his father's grasp would require more than just physical strength—it would require a courage that he was not sure he possessed. He had been sure he could stand up to him by now, yet he failed.
How fitting for a disappointment such as himself.
As Takushi dragged him through the muddy terrain, it dirtied and dishevelled his blue kimono at the ends, splattering it and nearly ripping a part of the delicate fabric open when his father didn’t hesitate to pull him along a sharp rock that stood nearby.
Somewhere in the distance, a small crowd of people came into view the further they went, their gazes cast down to a spot in the ground that was obscured by a big stone plate on top.
Underneath, Toji could make out faint noises that sounded similar to snarling and screeching which sent shivers down his spine, a grim reminder of the horrors that most likely waited beneath.
At that moment, realisation dawned upon Toji like a cold, icy wave crashing over him. They were so far away from the common grounds of the clan for a good reason. This was the disciplinary pit. The one filled with curses up to grade 2 where plenty of sorcerers already died inside. It was a death trap. And those that did survive carried along such a traumatising experience that they didn’t dare speak of it.
The knowledge caused Toji’s green eyes to widen as he fully grasped the gravity of his situation. This was his trap.
And as Takushi dragged him closer to the edge of the abyss, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that coiled like a serpent in the pit of his stomach. Toji’s heart pounded in his chest at an alarming rate as he stared in disbelief as the crowd of people began pushing the stone plate aside.
The cacophony of snarls and screeches grew louder, echoing off the walls of the pit with a chilling intensity. His breaths came in shallow gasps as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of such palpable fear..
Takushi’s grip on his arm tightened as his expression was a mask of grim determination, his eyes fixed ahead rather than at Toji himself as they neared the edge uncomfortably close by now.
With a sharp gasp, Toji steadied himself at the last moment before his father could go ahead and push him, his heels desperately digging into the ground as he fought to regain his balance. For a mere moment, Toji caught a glimpse of the darkness that lurked beneath and seemed to stretch into eternity. There was no denying that there must have been 50, if not 100 curses in there.
In that moment, Toji knew that he stood on the precipice of a fate worse than death. But despite the overwhelming terror that threatened to overwhelm him, he refused to surrender to despair.
As Toji struggled to maintain his balance, his efforts were in vain against the combined force of the men that were suddenly surrounding him. With a sudden surge of strength, they overpowered him, their hands restraining him with a vice-like grip as they dragged him back to the brink of the pit.
“Please- no-” With a final, desperate plea for mercy, Toji found himself hoisted into the air, his body writhing in a futile attempt to break free. But it was no use—the men around him were relentless in their determination to see him cast into the depths below. And so, they inevitably did.
with a brutal shove, they sent him hurtling over the edge, his screams drowned out by the cacophony of snarls and screeches that echoed from the pit below.
It had been 6 years ever since that happened. His trophy for surviving that occurrence was a rather substantial and unsightly scar that stretched from the right corner of his mouth, extending about 2-3 cm over his lips.
Thanks to his heavenly restriction, he possessed superhuman physical abilities and thus managed to make it out of there just in time.
Still, it scarred him deeply. The wounds which that occurrence left behind both mentally and physically were still gaping open. They served as a constant reminder.