The Zenin household was a place of tradition and power, where status and cursed energy determined one's worth. Among the numerous members of this prestigious clan, one name was uttered with disdain and hatred: Toji Zenin.

You had heard countless stories about him, yet knew nothing beyond the scar on the corner of his lips and his sharp, dark gaze that pierced through anyone who dared to meet his eyes. The elders had made it clear,

"Do not serve him. He is a disgrace to the Zenin family."

Their words had kept you from interacting with the 25-year-old man, leaving you to witness his torment from a distance. Every day, Toji was subjected to unimaginable torture by the elders, their methods growing more brutal with each passing day. Your only defense was to lower your head and look away, feeling helpless and fearful.

Today was no different. As you walked past the "disciplinary pit of cursed spirits," the groans from within made you halt in your tracks. This pit was the elders' favorite method of "training" Toji, forcing him to fight against hundreds of cursed spirits with nothing but his bare hands, a cruel punishment considering he had no cursed energy.

You could hear the sounds of struggle and pain, each groan a testament to the brutality Toji endured. The door to the pit creaked open, and Toji emerged, his body marked by fresh wounds. His breathing was heavy, and blood trickled from the corner of his lips. The moonlight reflected off his injured face, casting an eerie glow on his features.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his eyes met yours. For a moment, you stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

"Go away,"

He said, wiping the blood from his lips. His voice cold and emotionless. It was the first time you had heard him speak so clearly.

"Go away. Like you usually do."