Questions and answers

(1) About the rainbow piggy

I really disliked teenagers, Naoya Zenin being a prime example.

I had never expected the interrogation to give him Stockholm syndrome instead of making him turn over a new leaf.

His sick, obsessive gaze and his longing to be hurt gave him the illusion that he cared about me.

It wasn't funny, and I didn't dare look down on those feelings from some lofty perch. After all, love was too profound to explain through ordinary understanding.

I was just a little lost.

And I didn't like being lost in my emotions, because it robbed me of my composure.

I injected him with a drug that could blur his memories.

I sincerely wished that he would forget me, forever and ever.

(2) Answers

My days at the Zenin Clan had officially entered their final countdown.

Megumi, who only half understood what had happened, finally couldn't resist coming to me for answers during those remaining days.

Like Naoya Zenin, he didn't know where to begin. Human involvement was obvious throughout, yet everything seemed steeped in coincidence.

When my coffee was refilled for the third time, he asked his first question.

"Yuanli, what did Shiu Kong say over the phone that night?"

Amid an affair whose mysteries were tangled like knots in a rope, the perceptive boy had successfully found the loose end.

That day, Shiu Kong had only told me the position held by the Zenin Clan's backer-or, more precisely, the backer of Jujutsu Society's higher-ups.

"A member of Parliament."

Megumi asked, "He didn't tell you their name?"

"No."

It wasn't that Shiu Kong didn't want to. His abilities had their limits. Finding out the position alone must have cost him considerable money and favors. Politicians had moments when they were extremely visible to the public, and others when they left no trace to follow. It was actually very difficult for ordinary people to uncover their vulnerabilities.

The clever boy's thoughts had hit a wall. He didn't need the answer handed to him, only a little hint.

"Megumi, if a member of Parliament wanted public support, what would they do?"

Megumi thought for a moment, and his eyes lit up. "Give speeches."

"Well done, Megumi." I clapped.

Yes, speeches.

No matter how many empty promises they made, their ambitions could easily slip out. Most politicians were good with words, though, and even when they let something slip, they could smooth it over with flowery language.

"But there are 465 members of Parliament. It would be hard to watch all of them in such a short time, wouldn't it?"

I smiled. "Actually, there's no need to watch them all."

There was no need. Four hundred and sixty-five sounded like a huge number, but sorting them by faction immediately narrowed the field.

Having lived through the world's upheavals, I understood perfectly well the true ambitions hidden beneath each faction's utopian speeches.

One out of nine. Within ten minutes, I had identified the backer's faction.

The pool of candidates immediately shrank to sixty.

Megumi hadn't spent the past fifteen years learning nothing. He jumped in with the answer. "Next, you narrowed it down by region."

"Bingo! Five points!"

"Come on, this isn't a quiz show." Despite his disdainful words, Megumi's cheeks looked faintly flushed.

Ah, he was happy despite what he said. His awkwardness was adorable.

I asked him another question. "Want to guess which region, Megumi?"

"Kyoto?"

"No."

"Tokyo?"

"Not that either."

"Don't tell me it was Yokohama?"

"Wow, have you started guessing at random already? That won't do. Think again, Megumi." I tapped the boy lightly on the head.

Megumi ducked his head and declared firmly, "I can't figure it out."

He was far too quick to reach a conclusion. It seemed that fifteen-year-old Megumi Fushiguro had liked to jump straight to the worst possible outcome, then burn his bridges and stake everything on one desperate effort. That wasn't a good thing.

Without holding back, I flicked the boy's forehead.

Megumi gave a muffled grunt of pain and looked at me with a rather innocent expression. A fleeting, pitiful sheen of tears glimmered in his dark blue eyes, enough to soften anyone's heart.

I resisted the urge to comfort him and said quite seriously, "Megumi, no matter what happens, no matter the situation, the worst outcome is never your only option. You need to learn to create choices for yourself, all right?"

Megumi paused, then nodded earnestly. He lowered his head in thought, and after a long while, he asked tentatively, "Was it Nagoya?"

I reached out and gently rubbed the red mark on his forehead. "Congratulations, Megumi. You got it right."

Nagoya, also called "Chukyo," lay between Tokyo and Kyoto.

Politicians were people too, at their core, and seeking gains while avoiding harm was human instinct. Generally speaking, someone who protected a powerful organization rarely based themselves within its territory. They needed to avoid the appearance of impropriety.

Tokyo had Jujutsu Headquarters, Tokyo Jujutsu High, and the largest network of Window operatives. Kyoto was home to Jujutsu Society's Three Great Families, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and scattered Window operatives. Tokyo and Kyoto were therefore the first places to rule out.

And a protector who received direct financial benefits would certainly not want to be too far from the chain of profit. Nagoya, situated between Tokyo and Kyoto, was the ideal location.

This time, sixty people became three.

Among those three, I had identified Miura Yasukimi because of a news report: on October 25, Kyoto's new mayor took office.

Thanks to my good memory, I recognized the new mayor's face in a candid street photograph of Miura Yasukimi. He stood behind the member of Parliament, wearing a humble smile.

"Then why did you choose Ryu Zenin?"

"Because he was a loser."

"Huh?"

I added, "A loser the Zenin Clan could take or leave."

If I had chosen Naoya Zenin, I would definitely have sent him to kill the prime minister. The problem was that I didn't have the manpower to clear a path for him, and the Zenin Clan seemed to be betting on that little blond brat. After all, I had concealed Megumi's Ten Shadows Technique, and the Zenin Clan urgently needed a clan head who could stand on equal footing with the Gojo Clan's Six Eyes.

Although Naoya was pathetically weak, he was better than nothing. A child who might become the future clan head would be protected by the Zenin Clan even if he killed the prime minister. However powerful the prime minister might be, as long as he was an ordinary human, the jujutsu sorcerers tasked with protecting ordinary humans would subconsciously look down on him.

Unless protectors possessed exceptionally noble morals, it was easy for them to start treating those they protected as animals. Like humans and rabbits, humans and fish, humans and monkeys, humans and any harmless animal. And how could humans and animals ever be equals?

That was why Ryu Zenin and Kyoto's mayor made a lethal combination.

From the Zenin Clan's perspective, an insignificant person had killed someone they had no need to cultivate. From Miura Yasukimi's perspective, a dog he kept had bitten one of his people to death-and after killing that person, it had even dared to bark wildly at him.

Megumi questioned this. "But only Ryu Zenin would die. It wouldn't implicate the Zenin Clan, would it?"

"That's why I gave the dog's owner an opportunity to slaughter his dogs. Megumi, you've seen my interrogations, haven't you?"

"Electric shocks?"

"There was another important tool."

Megumi understood. "The drugs."

That brought us to my ability.

In Jujutsu Society's terminology, it was called a cursed technique. In Princess Tsukuyomi's terminology, however, it was called an origin technique.

The Void space had a name I wasn't particularly willing to say aloud. Its true name was the Divine Palanquin.

Because I didn't believe in gods, I had always called it the Void. It was empty, vast, and capable of storing things.

All the weapons and all my tools were stored in the Void.

Miss Adams had prepared my drugs for me.

Born on a Wednesday, the sorrowful, cold Miss Adams enjoyed boldly concocting all sorts of drugs, and their formulas were hardly innocent.

Interestingly, every single ingredient in those formulas was strictly prohibited by Japan's Narcotics Control Department. Although the quantities weren't excessive, they were enough for Miura Yasukimi to make a case.

All I needed to do was punish the people who humiliated Toji as usual, then leave a few bottles and jars to give the member of Parliament better charges to work with.

"Then why wasn't Naoya Zenin arrested?"

For once, I fell silent.

As I had said, feelings of love affected me. When those less-than-innocent eyes clung to me, I felt as though thorns were digging into my back. Yet I couldn't help wondering how far those feelings could influence someone, so I had spared Naoya Zenin.

The result was that love had clouded the little blond brat's judgment, and he had nearly said something disastrous.

Falling in love with the enemy who destroyed his clan would bring him greater despair than falling in love with someone who kidnapped and tortured him. Although I disliked Naoya, I had never intended to destroy him.

I changed the subject on Megumi. "In three more days, this place won't belong to the Zenin Clan anymore."

(3)

It happened a day later than I had expected.

On the morning of the fourth day, the Zenin Clan's century-old estate finally changed hands.

The women of the Zenin Clan gathered in the courtyard before the main gates, using what little ignorant understanding they possessed to obstruct the government workers.

The women with cursed energy took up weapons to defend the confiscated property beneath their feet. The women without cursed energy wore smiles that held neither sorrow nor joy, watching everything with cold eyes.

Against overwhelming armed force, gender made no difference.

The women who fought back were sent to join their husbands on charges of obstructing officials in the performance of their duties. The few women without cursed energy stepped out of the Zenin estate, uncertain about the future yet yearning for freedom.

Only Megumi, Toji, and I remained in the entire estate.

Toji had only returned that morning. He had spent all that time at the racecourse.

He hadn't been numbing himself. He had been giving me free rein to do as I pleased.

He stared at the deserted estate, utterly bewildered.

Of course I understood. When a belief someone had held firmly for years was overturned, anyone would fall into that peculiar panic of seeing the wind bend the grass, only to find no cattle or sheep beneath it.

Megumi and I accompanied him as he checked room after room.

There was no one in the main hall, no one in the rooms, and no one in the courtyard.

It was as though he and Megumi were the only two people named Zenin left in the world.

When he finished checking the last place, he began to cry without warning.

He cried hysterically, but he laughed hysterically too.

This man, whom the Zenin Clan had pummeled for thirty-five years; this beaten dog, whose spirit had been battered black and blue for thirty-five years, yet who had only ever clenched his fists and raised his arms to defend himself.

At that moment, he finally unclenched his fists, lowered his shattered arms, and turned to embrace me.

I hugged him back, then finally spoke those long-overdue words.

"Welcome home, Dad."