BOUND; jujutsu kaisen

ch. forty-three

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE . . .
. . . The Sins of a Father !

LUCK HAS ALWAYS BEEN DETACHED FROM THE FUSHIGUROS. Maybe it was the universe's calling, that it was always supposed to be this way. The Fushiguros are a cursed family, stemming from Death himself. He plagued their family name, taking Miran's parents and her sister—possibly contented for the time being.

It'll never be enough. Because alongside Death, bad luck sat- staring off into the void. Miran Fushiguro was bad luck reincarnated, it was her very essence- no matter how hard she tries, it's futile. But maybe, this selfless act alone with suffice- perhaps her luck will wither as Megumi and Tsumiki receive the life they deserve.

And she'll watch from afar- trapped in the Clan home.

Everyone knows who Naoya Zen'in was, not counting his looks. He was possessive of his belongings, and as the next leader of the Zen'in (if Megumi refuses), he'll lead with a sinister glare. Miran would be his the moment they get married, possibly even before that- because he is possessive of his belongings.

To him, she was nothing else than that.

Still, she wanted to see him for herself.

Miran waited in the Zen'in Clan's guest room, contemplating- listening to the sounds of a caged bird. Her hands fidget under the table as she stares off, and her jaw locks sharply.

The door slid open harshly, slamming against the wall loudly- though Miran didn't flinch, she could tell that was his motive. Zen'in sighed, sitting in front of her while a meek maid rushed in, pouring you both tea before scrambling away, and closing the door. Fixated on the Zen'in himself, she noticed the differences immediately: He was taller, muscular, and seemed to have grown into his head. However, she could tell those were the only things that changed- the glare in those gold eyes told her the entire story. There lay an angry, possessive, immature boy, the product of the Clan's cruelty towards women.

Zen'in clicks his tongue, his body leaning into the table, "You eager or something? Our wedding isn't until a month." Miran sits properly, eyes staring back at him, unwavering, "Our first meeting would've been our wedding day. Shouldn't we know who we're marrying off to?"

"You came here thinking you can change your mind? That's pretty dumb of you, but what can I expect." Her eye twitched, jaw locking further- all in an attempt to halt the urge to roll her eyes. From the glint in his eyes to the lean against the table, Miran could see entirely what he was attempting to do: Dominant to the space. He stretched further around, smiling at her, almost trying to seem relaxed-

He was trying to intimidate her.

But there was nothing to be intimidated of. This boy facades strengths under jealousy and envy, pride under possessiveness, and maturity under immature. Satoru would laugh at his face, near howling at the constipating look on Zen'in's face. The thought of the fond man brought a lighter atmosphere in her mind, and for a split second, she let out an airy scoff.