𝘏𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘳𝘶. | 𝙎. 𝙂𝙚𝙩𝙤

Chapter 1

December 7th, 1989. Tokyo, Japan.

The day the balance of the world shifted. Satoru Gojo was born. The first person from the Gojo clan who wielded both Six Eyes, and Limitless. Silver hair, blue eyes. Everybody talked about him. But nobody knew about Hikaru.

Hikaru didn't inherit any of the Gojo clan's techniques. His technique? Weak. Nothing compared to his brother. Silk of Blood. He didn't even look like any of his relatives. Raven hair, crimson eyes. At the age of infancy, he had fangs and no other teeth. He was creepy and despicable.

When they are next to each other, it's impossible to notice Hikaru.

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Hikaru wasn't treated well by his family. His mother, didn't pay attention to him, and Satoru? It was clear that he was also told to not pay attention to his brother.

Hikaru needed blood to live. Human blood. Whenever he needed to feed, his mother looked at him with disgust in her eyes. He didn't get the luxury of human blood. The blood of curses, was all that he got. He drank that blood every day. It tasted like vomit and shit blended into liquid.

He didn't complain. How could he?

He cried, he cried every night while gazing at the stars, and praying for death to take him. Maybe then it would be possible to live properly. He thought that even curses lived better than him.

Hikaru lived seperately from Satoru. It was a run down Japanese style home, where it was possible to see his brother train every day. He noticed when Satoru saw him, he furrowed his brows, disgust was visible in his eyes.

The raven haired boy just smiled at him and waved. He never got a response. How sad is it, that Hikaru still admired his brother?

Hikaru's suffering didn't end there. He always got his brother's ruined, or outgrown clothing. It was usually some sort of kimono. He always looked like he was either drowning in them, since he was a smaller size than Satoru, or he just looked purely sad. Nobody taught him how to wear a kimono properly, so he just put it on the only way he could think of.

Due to him not eating properly, he also couldn't use his technique the way it was supposed to be used. At most, he could make his Silk of Blood three meters long. It was barely sharp, and Hikaru was always light headed after using it.

His hair was also very choppy, since the only way to cut it was with his barely sharp, silk.

He was very pale, almost ghastly. He went outside, but it was impossible for him to atleast tan a bit, since his diet was the cause of him looking like he is on the verge of death.

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One time, he and Satoru had a conversation. Hikaru was was strolling through the pathways which were lined with blooming sakura trees.

"Hikaru." He heard his name being mentioned, and it was as if all the blood in his body drained.

He turned around, and looked at his brother. He was taller, and looked much healthier than him. The boy started playing with his thumb, out of nervousness.

"Satoru?" Hikaru whispered with a meek voice, he hadn't spoken in a while. His brother's name came out of his mouth as if it was a question.

"Why are you out here?" The silver haired boy asked.

Hikaru lowered his head a little. "I'm just.. getting some fresh air..." He whispered, not intending to.

Satoru hummed. "Mom is extracting the blood from the curses I kill because of you, right?"