Kami-Jutsu: The Yakuza's Son is Aware-Chapter 5: Najima! No Kissing the Brother!

Now, Ferry was happily slurping ramen with chopsticks like a natural-born human.

That felt like the right time to question him.

—What did he mean by "I’m the One"?

—Why can I do all these things?

—What exactly is Kamijutsu?

To all of them, he had nothing useful to offer—except the last.

"Kamijutsu, you see," he began, gently blowing on his noodles, "it’s that, uh, you know... God energy thingy. Wait—no. It’s what comes from the gods... I think. Ah, wait, you asked what is Kamijutsu, right? It’s the art of using Kami particles!"

"..."

He could tell from our soul-link that I wasn’t amused.

"S-SORRY!" he blurted. "After my rebirth, my memories got all... mushed or something. I don’t remember a lot of things now."

"Then how are you supposed to be of use to me?"

"Well, we could play catch? I could guard the mansion or something!" he said, dead serious. Complete nonsense.

"Argh, it’s actually your fault, you know! You drained all the God particles from my core!"

"You asked me to touch your heart."

"Yes! Because contact with a divine object—my heart, in this case—can trigger awakening, but only for Chosen Ones! But you, MASTER, for some reason, sucked all of it in one go. I nearly disappeared, you know!"

He kept ranting. I genuinely thought his voice alone would kill me. But eventually, something useful came out.

He told me about my attack on the Spiders.

He called it reckless.

"By some monumental stroke of luck, you came out without a scratch. Just a bump on your head." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

He claimed I had the AWARENESS—but some warriors were also in possession of it. And if I’d met the wrong person (like the one who killed him), I wouldn’t have even known I was dead until it was over.

"The end justifies the means," I replied. "I didn’t think—I trusted my gut. And I won."

"That’s what I’m talking about," he snapped. "In the world of Godmen like you, ’trusting your gut’ will get you killed. I mean, look at me! I used my instincts to track the Chosen One—and got bodied by the enemy."

I could see his point. But I knew what I did. I wanted the Spiders dead.

"I understand," Ferry said, for once looking serious. "The Spider Mafia is evil to the core. They’ve done things your clan doesn’t even know about. But with your method, they’ll never be wiped out."

"And you have a better plan, I presume?"

He downed the last of his ramen and muttered a quick thanks for the food.

"I do," he said. "It’s high risk. It’ll take years. But it’s the surest way to stop the Spiders... and have your clan reclaim its former glory."

There he went again—dangling juicy promises like candy on a hook.

But restoring my clan... that wasn’t something I could just ignore.

"Alright, Ferry. What’s the plan? No matter how many years it takes—I’ll do it. And I’ll win."

"You cocky brat. I like it. That kind of readiness to die strengthens your connection to the particles."

Ah, I understood that part.

After I killed those men in the mountains, my power grew—just a little more than before.

Now, with enough focus, I could twist metal without lifting a finger.

According to Ferry, even with Kamijutsu, a skilled warrior could still kill me. And then there were folks called Godmen Killers—specialists who hunted people like me for sport or bounty. One of them had gotten Ferry, back when he was human.

So I’d have to train—both body and mind. The deeper my understanding of the particles, the more dangerous I’d become.

"You already have a strong grasp of Kamijutsu," Ferry said. "We just need to teach you martial arts so you’ll be less of a train wreck and more of a clinical blade."

Martial arts were a pain. I’d never seen the need to train, though Mother had forced me into it back at our old dojo. She’d been the clan’s Master—an unshakable woman of discipline and silence.

Still, Najima had always been more naturally talented than I was in combat.

Ah. A thought struck me.

"Ferry, would you teach me marti—"

"Not happening, desu! I don’t have that memory. Unless you wanna learn how to bite and claw folks to death."

So I had no choice. I’d have to turn to my family for help.

***

The next morning, Sunday:

"EHHH?! Ken-chan’s asking for training on his own?! Get the red rice!"

When it came to hand-to-hand combat, even Father became a figurine in Mother’s grip.

Before she married into the Kurosawas, she’d been one of the deadliest, ruthless agents in a major syndicate—a name whispered in the underground and promptly forgotten for fear of being remembered. Her tattoos and scars were all hidden beneath her clothes and that perfect motherly smile.

I went to Father for swordsmanship. But—

"Eh? I’m happy you’re finally getting interested in things, Ken!" he said with a hand on my shoulder. "But if you want to learn how to swing a sword, why not learn from the one who taught me?"

"Ohoho. Ken-chan, your Kurosawa blood has begun to boil? I see. I’ll take you under my wing and make you a master swordsman like your father."

I nodded. Then went to find Najima, hoping she’d help me train whenever she was free.

"Najima, I need you."

She gasped—then sprinted across the hallway, wrapped her arms around my neck, and smashed her lips into mine.

"Ah, Onii-sama," she whispered, nearly in tears, "how I’ve waited for this day! Yes! I’ll be Onii-sama’s bride!"

Mother dragged her away by the cheek.

"I told you, Najima! No kissing the brother!"