Yukari maintained eye contact with the figure — an experience reminiscent of staring into a mirror. Adrenaline poisoned the teenager's bloodstream as a singular pair of words branded itself into his mind.
Little... Brother?
The boy struggled to his feet, scrutinising the blood-curdling entity lurking in the shadows. Its overpowering aura was unlike anything Yukari had ever encountered: a mixture of malice, cruelty and recklessness merged with quixotic fixation — as well as unfathomable strength.
"I don't know what you're talking about," stated the teenager, his voice fearfully fragile. "I don't have any siblings."
The figure's mouth formed a menacing grin.
"You do now."
A tall and muscular man in his early twenties emerged from the darkness. He possessed purple hair resembling Yukari's — only differentiated by its black tips and slightly shorter length. In addition to his tight purple t-shirt and black trousers, the man sported trainers incorporating both colours. He also wore a purple belt with a gun holster attached on either side. The holster on his right hip was purple and displayed the handle of a black handgun, whereas the holster on his left hip was black and displayed the handle of a purple handgun.
"I'm Yukou Tsugomorii. Your elder brother."
The boy's eyes widened.
"You don't have any relatives capable of utilising Jujutsu, do you?"
Yukari blinked, disturbed.
No way...
A wave of nausea washed over the teenager as his thoughts faded to the charred skeletons sprawled out on the pavement. Skeletons that used to be living, breathing people with friends and family. People who were massacred at the hands of the man standing before him; the man claiming to be his elder brother.
"These residuals were left behind by a cursed technique. I hope you understand why I called you here."
Denial attempted to hijack the boy's mind — yet the truth remained undeniable.
"It's the third occurrence this month."
"You're a murderer," murmured Yukari. His face looked unnaturally pale.
"Those sacrifices were a necessary step towards creating a world free from cursed energy," stated the curse user before narrowing his eyes. "A world where human lives aren't ruined by the existence of cursed spirits."
A shiver crept down the teenager's spine.
What...?
He took a step back and glanced at Kana, who kept whispering to herself.
"Tsugomorii... His last name is Tsugomorii." The woman appeared as if she had just seen a ghost. Her muttering suddenly transformed into shouting.
"That's impossible! The Tsugomorii Clan was annihilated more than a century ago!"
The purple-haired boy turned to his teammate. "Huh...?"
"They were one of three major sorcerer families that have existed since the Heian Era," explained the female sorcerer — trepidation tarnishing her tone. "The other clans united against them after their tremendous power became a threat to humanity. Not to mention, they retain the most despicable reputation of any—"
"Ironic, coming from a member of the Sairousoku Clan."
Yukou chuckled and pointed to the flame-like patterns on Kana's uniform.
"The family known for their dubious spiritual practices and human rights violations."
The woman did not respond. She frowned, her eyes downcast.
"Have you ever wondered why curses are scarce outside of Japan?" asked the man while facing his brother. "It's because other populations lack cursed energy."
Yukari let out an anxious sigh. "W-what's your point?"
"Well..."
A sinister smile spread across the curse user's face.
"If I assassinate every sorcerer in the world, cursed energy will eventually cease to exist."
The teenager froze.
Did I hear that correctly...?
"Curses and cursed techniques increase in proportion to the amount of cursed energy present within society," continued Yukou. "While almost all humans possess cursed energy, I believe it'll level out to zero after multiple generations."
The boy felt a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. Silence.
There's no reasoning with him. This guy's out of his mind.
A few seconds passed until Yukari gathered the courage to speak.
"Wait... We're both descendants of the Tsugomorii Clan, right?"
"Right."
"Then, why do we have different last names?"
"Smart question," replied the curse user. "Let's just say our parents managed to escape from an undercover cult created following the clan's downfall."
The teenager shivered. "And what happened to the cult...?"
"Help me, humans!" begged Utsuro while lying limbless on the concrete floor. "I'm sorry for—"
"Shut up, cursed spirit. You don't get human rights."
The apparition registered Yukou's gaze and immediately fell silent.
"Go back to being unconscious, or I'll make you pass out from pain again."
Utsuro clenched his teeth. An effervescent, dark blue substance materialised around his wounds — stretching into a set of arms and legs.
"I'll snap your neck!" snarled the cursed spirit, scrambling to his feet.
The man smirked. He brought his vision back to the boy; the latter flinched in fear.
"How about I give you a little demonstration of what happened to the Tsugomorii Cult?"
An onslaught of nooses shot in the curse user's direction. His body twitched before vanishing from sight. A human silhouette grabbed the back of Utsuro's shirt — hurling him towards the ceiling. The airborne apparition gasped as a fist neared his face.
The cursed spirit crashed through the pathway railing on the fourth level of the cell block and slammed into a set of steel bars, bending them like bamboo. Utsuro dropped onto the platform. He looked up, spotting an open hand flying at his throat.
Yukou seized the apparition's neck. He shoved him into the wall and sprinted along the pathway — watching the cursed spirit's head ricocheting rhythmically against the steel bars — before being pushed away.
Utsuro sprang into the air and pointed his arms at the man. He yelled at the top of his lungs, firing several nooses from the palms of his hands. A humanoid figure appeared behind the aerial apparition. The curse user planted his shoe on the cursed spirit's spine and launched him into the ground.
A cloud of crushed concrete smothered the two sorcerers. They coughed, the smokescreen slowly dissipating to reveal Utsuro's body embedded within the floor. Yukou landed beside him. He sneered, looking down at the apparition.
"Would you like a receipt with that?"
The cursed spirit gave no response.
Yukari trembled and made eye contact with the man; the situation seemed hopeless.
He's not just a special-grade sorcerer. He's the most dangerous being I've ever witnessed. Compared to everyone I know, this guy's in a realm of his own.
"Now..."
The curse user extended an open hand towards his brother.
"Will you assist in fulfilling my vision of a curseless world, Yukari?"
Horror haunted the teenager. "Huh? W-why me?!"
"There's a simple saying I was taught during my upbringing," proclaimed Yukou. "Blood is thicker than water."
The boy scowled. "What does that even mean...?"
"Familial bonds are the strongest of all."
A harrowing silence submerged the entire prison. Yukari stared at the ground, his purple hair falling over his light grey eyes.
"The parents who neglected me didn't live by that saying," mumbled the teenager. "They're the reason I'm out here to begin with."
Originally, I became a Jujutsu Sorcerer to give my life a purpose. I thought it didn't matter whether or not I died.
The boy sighed.
However, since that day, I've met a lot of genuinely good people — all of whom I get to call allies.
Yukari clasped his hands.
I may still feel unhappy, but I'll protect the little I've got until my final breath.
A black, boiling substance engulfed the teenager's arms. Seven dark puddles manifested around him as he met his brother's gaze.
"I don't care about noble ideals," asserted the boy. "I just want a life worth living, and no one has the right to take that away from me."
Yukari's aura spiked in intensity; a shadow hand erupted from each swamp, surrounding him.
"That's why..."
The teenager adopted a murderous glare — his pupils piercing the man's soul.
"...I'll exorcise curses until the day I die."
The curse user's eyes lit up. He shuddered, goosebumps covering his skin. An ecstatic grin followed.
"Man, you really are my brother!" exclaimed Yukou, stepping forward. "We'll cleanse this corrupted world, and as soon as that's done..."
The man raised his voice to a scream.
"...Let's die together, Yukari!"
Seven shadow hands extended towards the curse user. He disappeared, reappearing in front of the boy with a demeaning smirk. Yukari stumbled backwards and fell on the floor, causing his technique to deactivate.
"I'll give you time to consider my offer," declared the man. A transparent, white luminescence emerged from his right palm, enveloping the teenager's body. "Don't die in the meantime."
The rope marks scarring the boy's neck vanished along with any accompanying injuries he had sustained earlier. Kana observed, relieved yet alarmed.
That man wasn't using a teleportation technique. His raw speed was just giving us a similar impression.
She inhaled sharply.
He's also capable of generating positive energy by multiplying cursed energy, which is an extremely complex process involving reverse cursed techniques. Special-grade is a terrible understatement.
"Oh, and as for the reason I'm here..."
The curse user walked up to the comatose cursed spirit and kicked his head. Utsuro jolted awake.
"I've got some business to discuss with you."
Yukou shifted his sight to the two sorcerers one last time.
Killing the woman in front of Yukari would probably ruin any chances of him joining my side. I wonder if that narcissistic loser is competent enough to hunt her down alone.
"You have ten seconds to leave. Better start sprinting."
Yukari and Kana made eye contact. They shared an expression of terror before simultaneously transferring their attention to the exit.
"Ten, nine, eight..."
The two sorcerers fled from the cell block — only stopping to catch their breath after abandoning the prison's premises. A freezing gust of wintry wind swept past them, serving as a grim reminder of their mortality.
Kana's curtain had already been dispelled.
Amidst the full moon's looming luminosity, the distant howling of wistful dogs, and the snowy panorama forming late evening Tokyo, the teenager and the woman pondered over a single fact.
They were alive.
The Comorbid Conditions Arc — End.