Two years passed like nothing.
Slow, yet impossible to hold back.
Tetsuya turned twelve in June.
The servants offered their usual congratulations.
Ever since he turned eleven though, his food situation had improved tremendously.
Likely, as he was beginning to enter puberty, the clan, or rather Jinichi, finally let him eat meat without restrictions. And naturally, most of his meals now contained some kind of steak, or other piece of meat, both because Tetsuya liked meat, and that protein was very important to his growing body.
Two years of grinding repetition, the occasional mission, sparring, and sleepless nights spent staring at his hands had pushed him further than he'd thought possible.
Missile Fist was no longer just a straightforward projectile.
He could launch eight at once now, violet streaks arcing through the air in controlled volleys. More than that, he'd finally cracked something new.
Homing.
He could make the missiles curve mid flight. Not sharply, not reliably, but enough to catch an opponent off guard.
Enough to hit a target that dodged the initial trajectory, only to be surprised when the missiles turn around, heading back for them.
It had taken weeks of trial and error since Tetsuya stepped on a new level of the technique, with countless failed attempts grinding his gears. But despite that, he now had another trick up his sleeves.
A trick Jinichi had never taught him.
Something that was his alone.
The twins were six now.
Maki and Mai.
Taller, sharper featured, but still small. Still children.
Still bruised.
Tetsuya saw them when he could. Brief moments between missions, stolen minutes in the garden or near the training grounds when no one important was watching.
All Zenin children trained. That was expected.
But Ogi made it personal for the twins.
Harsher. Crueler. Like he was trying to break them instead of building them up.
Tetsuya had seen the results more than once.
Fresh welts. Split lips. Maki's knuckles scraped raw from being forced to strike stone until her hands bled.
Mai flinching at every raised voice.
It made his blood boil every time.
But he couldn't do anything. Not at this point in time. Despite all his progress, he was nothing more than a Grade Two sorcerer.
Truthfully, He was on the higher end of the scale, but someone on the level of Ogi was not something he could handle as he was right now.
Tetsuya knew that. The boy was no longer seeking just an upgrade. He needed to evolve as a sorcerer altogether.
Then, one afternoon, he nearly snapped.
Tetsuya had been walking through one of the outer corridors, heading back from a mission debrief, when he heard it.
A sharp, pained yelp.
He rounded the corner and froze.
Naoya Zenin stood in the middle of the hallway, one foot planted on the floor, the other drawn back like he'd just finished kicking something.
Mai was on the ground, curled on her side, clutching her ribs, tears streaming down her face.
Maki was nowhere in sight.
Naoya looked down at her with that same smug, disgusted expression he always wore when dealing with "failures."
"Pathetic, really. Even Maki chan is a better punching bag than you." he spoke.
"Can't even take a tap without crying."
Tetsuya had to steel himself.
His fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms. Cursed energy surged instinctively, strengthening his body.
'Don't. Don't hit him. He's way stronger right now.'
Regardless, he took a step forward.
Naoya's eyes flicked up, locking onto him. That smirk widened.
"Oh, look. It's Tetsuya kun." He tilted his head mockingly. "Come to play hero for the trash?"
Tetsuya's jaw tightened.
He forced himself to breathe. Forced the energy back down.
Punching Naoya would feel good for exactly two seconds before the arrogant Zenin retaliated and put him in on a t shirt.
But he couldn't just stand there. If violence isn't the answer, the words will suffice for the moment.
"You know, Naoya san. For a future clan head." Tetsuya said slowly, voice cold.
"You sure waste a lot of time on some failures, don't you?"
The word tasted like acid, but he used it anyway.
Naoya's smirk faltered. Just for a heartbeat.
Tetsuya pressed forward, meeting his gaze.
"If they're so worthless, why bother? "
"Unless you're insecure about something, that is."
Tetsuya let the implication hang.
Silence.
Naoya's expression darkened.
Then he scoffed, stepping away from Mai, brushing imaginary dust off his haori.
"I'd watch where I'm walking if I were you, Tetsuya kun." Naoya's voice was sharp now, edged with something dangerous.
"Wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself, you know?"
Naoya walked past, his shoulder knocking into Tetsuya's, and disappeared down the corridor.
Tetsuya stood there for a moment, fists still trembling, before he knelt beside Mai.
She was still crying, small hands pressed to her side.
He gently brushed the dirt off her kimono, then ruffled her hair with a softness that felt foreign in this place.
"I'm sorry." he said quietly. "I'm not strong enough to protect you yet."
Mai sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
Then, to his surprise, she lunged forward and wrapped her tiny arms around him in a tight hug.
"It's... It's okay, Tetsuya nii." Her voice was shaky, muffled against his shoulder.
"You tried. That's... that's enough."
Despite the tears still streaming down her face, she was comforting him.
'It should be the other way. I...I'm supposed to comfort you.' Tetsuya's chest tightened.
He hugged her back carefully, like she might break. One hand on top of her head, the other rubbing her back.
'Despite it all. What a sweet girl she is.'
His anger at Naoya flared hotter, sharper.
'I'll get stronger. Strong enough that he won't dare touch them again.'
"Where's Maki?" Tetsuya asked, worried as he wiped the tears off Mai.
"She is with Mother, Tetsuya nii." Mai replied.
He pulled back gently, helped her to her feet, and walked her back toward Ogi's quarters in silence.
Two days later, the mission came.
Tetsuya had a bad feeling the moment the orders were delivered.
A solo assignment. Grade 2 curse. Kyoto outskirts. No backup.
He was twelve. Technically capable, sure. He'd handled Grade 2s before with support, and even without it.
But completely alone?
Without even someone to bring him to the location?
This reeked of Naoya's influence.
A whisper to his father. A suggestion to the elders. A convenient way to remind Tetsuya of his place.
Or worse, a convenient way to get rid of him entirely.
Still, refusing wasn't an option. And besides. He didn't want to. Naoya should be focused on him. He could take the punishment.
Tetsuya packed his things in silence. His things was a technicality, as he just borrowed some things from the servant warehouse.
A black duffel bag, oversized and almost comical against his twelve year old frame.
It was taller than his torso, packed tight with spare clothes, provisions, a basic first aid kit, and some other unimportant things.
He slung it over his shoulder, the weight familiar by now, and walked toward the estate gates.
The sun was rising, painting the sky in those morning colors.
Kyoto outskirts.
Alone. For real this time.
Tetsuya exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.
'Whatever happens, I'm coming back.'
He had promises to keep.