HEART THIEF || JUJUTSU KAISEN

pity who?

Naoko always hated Naoya. His personality was being a Zenin. Without his status and privilege, he doubted Naoya would be any higher than himself.

Everybody knew that jujutsu society was constructed on bloodlines, and that if you could trace your ancestry back to some powerful warlord from the Heian era, you were automatically regarded on a higher level. The Zenin clan has always been adamant to make that clear.

However, for people like Naoko, like Kai, who didn't even know their grandparents much less figure out from whom their powers came from, they would forever be looked down on no matter how strong they got.

History had enough records of stolen techniques and broken bloodlines. It was easy to do, all you needed to do was kidnap the right person.

Naoko didn't care about his ancestors, he didn't care who had his technique first. Those people were gone, and their memories wouldn't help him now.

"Stop trying to pretend you're on our level." Naoya used to tell him back when they were first years.

"Stop trying to pretend I haven't already passed your level." Naoko told him now.

The Zenin boy's technique made him faster than the roadrunner from Looney Tunes, but even it needed ground to run on. Naoko had been baiting him from the start, and if Gojo hadn't turned up, he would've gotten Kaede too, but unfortunately not. He just had to get in the way.

"You were always a spineless coward." Naoya sneered.

Naoko's soaked clothes were terribly heavy, and each flash of lightning felt so close he was sure the bolts were striking mere feet away. Wiping his eyes roughly, he made out Naoya's silhouette crouched before him like a leopard.

"And you were always a little shit."

He needed Naoya to stay still, just for a second. If he failed on his first try, there wouldn't be a second. His calf burned like it was on fire, though luckily it didn't feel like his knife severed a ligament. That , would've been a whole other level of ugly.

Not that things weren't already ugly. He liked his leg, but right now it was running like a broken faucet and he was already feeling lightheaded. So, Naoko did what every able-bodied, clear-headed person would do.

He raised his hand against Naoya's incoming knife and said. "Wait a sec."

Confused by the sudden and uncharacteristic response, he hesitated. "What?"

Just for a second, he stayed still, and in that second, the ground disappeared beneath his feet. With barely a strangled gasp, Naoya plummeted into the glowing red rift alongside several buckets of rain.

Another rift opened above, spilling his body out and back into the ground. Again and again, the subspace tossed him to and fro while Naoko caught his breath and closed the wound on his leg. He wasn't as good as Shoko or Aihara, his reverse cursed technique drained massive amounts of precious energy, so he made do with a hasty tourniquet using his jacket and one of his arrows.

"YOU— YOU LITTLE— ARGH!!" Naoya tried to scream at him only to get his words cut off every time he disappeared.

"Take your time, you've got all day." Naoko casually rose to his feet and tested his weight on his leg, finding it slightly weakened but stable enough to walk on.

"That's pretty cruel of you." Akira's voice met him, he must've chased after his brother. The two would've looked quite similar if it weren't for their polar personalities. The older Zenin brother looked like a mellower, kinder version of Naoya, with a full head of dark green hair and eyes a shade lighter. He wielded a katana that Naoko was all too familiar with.