Accountability

The next morning, at the agency, Toji Fushiguro stood in Ren's office and stretched lazily.

"Good mood?" Ren asked.

Toji grinned. "Yesterday, I stepped on the last two rats. They will not jump out and disgust me again."

Ren did not comment.

For the past few days, Toji had carried a faint violence around him. Today, it had scattered cleanly.

Ren tossed something onto the desk.

"Do you recognize this?"

Toji looked at the object and paused.

"It looks like the glasses I asked Yashima to make."

He pulled his own pair from his pocket, weighed them by habit, then compared them with the one on Ren's desk.

His pair was better in material and craftsmanship. The desk piece looked mass-produced and inferior, though its main material and function were similar.

"This was probably made from the ore I brought back," Toji said. "Are you planning to arm ordinary people with it?"

The glasses could see through falsehoods and allow direct observation of curses. Toji did not believe Ren needed them.

"Do not make me laugh," Ren said.

Toji laughed too.

No matter how ordinary ants were equipped, they still could not defeat real monsters. The two sides did not live in the same world.

Toji looked around the office. It had already been restored. Even the refrigerator was back in place.

He opened it without shame, took a drink, and emptied it in one go.

"Refreshing."

Ren looked at him without expression.

Responsibility was strange. Some people matured because of it. Others became more childish.

"How are you planning to handle yesterday's matter?" Toji asked. "Need help?"

A cruel smile spread across his face.

Those pests had been appearing too often. Now they had jumped in front of Ren. Toji wanted to kill them all.

"No," Ren said. "Gojo said he will handle it."

"That blindfold? You are not afraid he will smooth things over?"

"If he does, I will not need you either."

A brutal pressure moved out from Ren.

He had no expression, yet the world seemed to fall under his feet. Inside that seemingly thin body, endless force hid.

Toji stared at his employer.

This man was a monster.

One battle, and he had grown this much?

For one instant, Toji almost felt the urge to look up to him.

"Now I almost hope Gojo messes it up," Toji said.

At the Jujutsu Headquarters meeting room, Gojo sat opposite the elder at the head of the table.

"Do none of you have anything to say about yesterday?"

Silence.

Dead silence.

Gojo looked at the people on both sides, all of them mute, and his contempt was impossible to hide.

The people closer to the front were furious but dared not speak. Their bodies trembled with restraint.

What could they say?

Most of them had not even been here yesterday. Were they supposed to carry this burden too?

Haruto Nakatsui sat in his seat, clutching the edge of his clothes. His fingers had lost color from the force, and cold sweat dripped from his palms onto his thighs.

Stay calm.

He could not expose himself.

Gojo's interrogation had shattered his plan. Haruto had meant to accuse first and push responsibility for the civilian deaths onto Gojo and Ren. If those two stood against the jujutsu world, or even against human society, no one would notice his tricks.

But he had forgotten one point.

If those two truly stood against humanity, the jujutsu world would suffer a break in this generation that no one could repair.

"Satoru," the elder said, eyes narrowing, "we did not know about this. Coming here to demand guilt like this may be inappropriate."

He was cautious, but he would not lose presence.

Gojo placed a set of equipment on the narrow table.

It was what he had taken from the attackers.

The elder gave a look. Taiga Yashima picked up the items and examined them carefully.

The moment he saw the glasses, they felt familiar. They were not very different from Toji's pair.

After a rough look, he understood their function.

"If I am not mistaken, there should also be a drug that suppresses cursed energy."

Gojo looked at him with interest. Through the sunglasses, the Six Eyes focused on Yashima.

This was only an ordinary sorcerer. In combat, he might not even beat Nanami after his recent promotion.

For one instant, Yashima felt every hair on his body rise. It was as if his secrets had been seen through.

He calmly glanced around. Everyone else was focused on his explanation.

Perhaps he was too sensitive.

"This set is designed for combat," Yashima said. "More accurately, for capture. Used by surprise, it could capture almost any sorcerer at Grade 2 or above."

The room inhaled sharply.

Then greed appeared in too many eyes.

Yashima's heart filled with disdain.

Even if he could produce it, it would not be for them.

He pushed the equipment back.

"I lack the material. I cannot reproduce it."

Whoever could produce these would be targeted. He had no intention of holding that burning stone.

"You heard him," the elder said. "We cannot make these. Continuing like this damages the dignity of the Gojo family."

The table cracked.

A line split through the wood and crawled toward the elder like a snake.

"You seem to misunderstand something," Gojo said. "I came here to demand accountability."

The crack reached the elder.

The table shattered.

Several people jumped to their feet as wood fragments flew.

"Satoru Gojo," the elder snapped, blood rising in his face. "Remember this. You can sit here on behalf of the Gojo family because we allowed it. You should be grateful, not unreasonable."

"If we let you in today, we can remove you tomorrow."

The elder's body flew backward and struck the wall. Blood poured from his mouth.

Gojo looked as if he had swatted a fly.

"You old fossils know nothing except fighting each other."

His voice cooled.

"You should be glad I am the one sitting here. If it were Ren, would you still have this much nonsense to say?"

The room remembered that figure carved into fear.

Once, they could still raise their eyes toward him. Now even that felt like a privilege they had lost.

"What do you want?" the elder asked, coughing blood.

"Find the person behind this," Gojo said. "Erase the whole family."

The room froze.

"Do not think you have the right to negotiate. This is Ren's bottom line. Unless you think you can challenge both me and Ren Zenin."

With that final notice, Gojo turned to leave.

As he passed Haruto, he looked at the pale, trembling man and smiled.

"Bye, everyone. I hope the next time I see you is not inside an urn."

The door closed.

Only then did the anger in the room erupt.

"Who does Satoru Gojo think he is?"

"We should remove him tomorrow."

"Enough," Yashima said, pushing his glasses up. "Are none of you curious who pushed this matter?"

The room quieted.

Yes. Were they going to carry this blame for nothing?

"Yashima," the injured elder said, "you seemed familiar with the equipment. Do you have a suspect?"

Haruto's heart nearly stopped.

Yashima had seen Kenseki before.

No. Impossible. Unless...

The glasses.

When Toji killed his two dancers, he had been wearing glasses.

Haruto slowly looked at Yashima.

Their eyes met.

He knows.

"I have a guess," Yashima began. "These things are..."

Before he finished, Haruto fell to his knees.

"I did it. I arranged everything."

He started explaining wildly.

"But I did it for all of you. If those two are not removed, the jujutsu world will never speak with one voice. They are more dangerous than curses. Listen. We still have a chance. They killed the civilians there. If we release that news..."

A slap cut him off.

A pale mark appeared on Haruto's swollen face. Blood scattered.

"Enough!" the elder shouted. "Do you understand what you are saying? Is your own death not enough? Do you want all of us buried with you?"

For three minutes, no one spoke.

"You acted without permission and ignored the rules between us," the elder said at last. "You are no longer one of us. Hand over the object you guard. Go home and end yourself."

He looked deeply at Haruto.

"Do not force us to act."

Haruto knelt in despair.

He wanted to resist. He wanted to kill everyone here and run.

The greedy eyes around him reminded him that they would watch every movement.

Strangely, once things reached this point, a strange sense of release settled over him.

He placed the jade token on the ground and bowed.

"Thank you," he said, voice hollow, "for leaving me some dignity."

Then he returned home.

The vast estate looked like prosperity from a dream. Now the dream had ended.

Autumn wind entered the courtyard and lifted fallen leaves into the air.

Haruto stood there, suddenly wanting someone to speak to.

"Father. Mother. Grandfather..."

He froze.

Why had he called those names?

Who were they?

Pain struck his brain like a hammer.

"They... are all dead?"

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