Chapter Text
When Gojo Satoru is born, the once carefully maintained balance of the world shifts. With a child born with both Limitless and the Six Eyes techniques, the battle against curses has suddenly been tipped very clearly in favor of the humans. The Gojo clan celebrates their surprise advantage over the other two great clans because Gojo Satoru is to be their salvation.
The Kamo clan and the Zenin clan both offer their congratulations behind carefully maintained masks, while cursing his birth behind closed doors. The Cursed Spirits have no such reservations, and openly attempt to kill him in order to gain an advantage over the Jujutsu Shamans. But the Gojo clan guards him carefully. Their members are ordered to give up their lives for Satoru because he is the single greatest weapon to have graced their halls in hundreds of years.
As soon as he can stand up on his own, Satoru’s father and the other elders in the clan make sure to instill in him exactly what his existence means, while his mother watches proudly by the side. Satoru’s birth had elevated her status from a simple mistress to the wife of the Gojo clan head.
He is to be a dutiful son, turn the tides of the war against curses and most importantly, raise the prestige of the Gojo clan against the other two Great Clans. Satoru’s father tells him he is strong, the strongest in fact, and as the strongest he has certain obligations. Obligations to his clan, obligations to other shamans, and obligations to the world as a whole. Satoru takes in his father’s words with the innocence of a child who believes the adults around him can do no wrong, his blue eyes wide with awe as he realizes his importance.
He is raised like a prince; doted on by everyone he meets, and his existence is praised by shamans everywhere. So, it’s no surprise that he gets a little full of himself. Satoru is the strongest after all, and it’s the duty of the strongest to look after those that are weaker. It’s a little egoistical of him, but that type of attitude is to be expected of the pride and joy of the Gojo clan.
The strength of techniques such as the Six Eyes and Limitless, whose existence have been known for generations is that even though outsiders know about them, the previous holders are also able to pass down how to control the technique to their descendants. So, on the day he turns six years old, Satoru’s training begins. Every day he is woken up at the crack of dawn for physical training, the likes of which no child should ever have to endure. And even after he was beaten, bruised, and bloody, his training didn’t stop. It simply shifted to his techniques instead. But Satoru persevered, even when he began to cough up blood, because it was the duty of the strong to protect the weak.
His father praises him to anyone who would listen, sings about how strong his son is becoming and Satoru smiles through the aches and bruises. There’s an undercurrent of expectation in his father’s every word, the expectation that he will be an alpha but Satoru ignores it. He ignores how his father stares at him with a gleam in his eyes, not quite the type of look he’s seen other parents send their children. He ignores how everyone in his clan barely ever call him by name, despite their adoration of him. He ignores the dirty stares and curses that the children of the other clans send his way. He ignores how often his own mother forgets his name. Satoru ignores and he endures. Because Gojo Satoru is the Strongest Jujutsu Shaman to be born in generations.
On the day he turned twelve, the balance of Satoru’s world shifts. He wakes up with a burning fever, there’s a fire alight in the pit of his stomach and he can’t bear to let anything touch his skin. He frantically throws the covers off of himself and scrambles to the bathroom, turning the shower tap down to almost freezing. Satoru throws himself into the tub fully clothed, too out of it to pull off his clothes and turns his face towards the stream of water. He starts shivering, but that doesn’t make any sense because the fire in the pit of his stomach is only burning hotter. In the back of his mind, Satoru registers the pounding at the bathroom door but he’s too busy cradling himself in his arms, trying to figure out why his body seems to be attacking itself. The air is heady with the scent of his presentation, because that’s what it is he realizes, but it’s nothing like the scent he’s been told to expect. The door rattles open and he turns his head to see his mother standing in the doorway, hand clasped over her mouth.
Satoru reaches out a shaking hand and croaks out, “Mother.”
His mother flinches, and quickly turns around in the doorway and runs. Satoru’s vision swims. He can hardly keep his eyes open, so he lets them fall trying to forget the terror in his mother’s eyes.
When he wakes up, someone has changed him into dry clothes and carried him to bed. One of the servants, most likely. His body no longer feels as if it’s trying to burn itself from within, but Satoru’s muscles are sore as if he’d gone through a full day of training. He forces himself to sit up in bed, and his eyes land on a note sitting on the table beside him next to a small bowl filled with two pills. He swallows the pills dry without looking at the note and drags his legs over the side of the bed. Satoru stands up carefully, still not quite sure if his legs will take his weight, ready to brace himself if needed. He stumbles towards the door and slides it open, peering out into the long hallway. He can hear muffled yelling coming from the main room that sits at the end, and he creeps down the hall, testing each floorboard before stepping down. He can hear the yelling grow stronger as he makes his way closer to the screen door, their voices are so loud he doesn’t even have to stand next to it to hear them.
His father’s voice claws through his ears. “What the hell is that? Why the fuck is it an omega?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” his mother sobs.
“Did you cheat on me? Were you whoring yourself out to some beta on the side?”
“No, I promise, you were the only one! There was no one else!” His mother’s voice is frantic, desperate to convince his father that she didn’t cheat. There’s a crash, and then the soft sounds of his mother crying reach his ears.
“You better pray that’s true. First thing I’m gonna do tomorrow before the meeting with the elders is get that thing tested. And you. Pack your bags and get out of the house. You’re no longer welcome here.”
The sliding door slams open as his father makes his way out into the hall. The older Alpha’s eyes land on him as he heads towards the exit, and Satoru almost flinches with how much hatred he sees in them. He stiffens as his father’s pheromones hit his nose, no longer the familiar scent of an affectionate parent, and all he smells is the putrid scent of danger, danger, angry alpha, placate, run. He huddles against the wall, slamming a hand to his face and desperately resisting the sudden urge to bare his neck in submission until his father leaves without acknowledging him, and the air no longer feels thick with tension. Satoru drags himself to his feet and heads into the room while bracing himself against the wall. His mother is sitting on her knees in the middle of the room, face cradled in her hands, shoulders shaking with soft sobs. There’s a vase cracked on the floor, the source of the crashing sound from earlier.
Satoru wobbles towards her, falling onto his knees next to his mother and reaches out a hand to touch her. Before he can blink, his face is turned towards the wall beside him, cheek throbbing with pain. It takes an embarrassingly long moment for him to realize that his mother had struck him.
“This is all your fault,” his mother grits out.
Satoru says nothing, and simply clenches his fists as she stands up abruptly and rushes out of the room, leaving him behind. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, staring at the shattered remains of the vase. But Satoru doesn’t cry, because he’s the strongest after all.
“Master Gojo, it’s time to eat,” a voice calls out to him. When he turns to the doorway, the servant is already gone. He pulls himself to his feet and instead of going to the dining room and facing the disgusted gaze of his father, he stumbles back to his room. Satoru throws himself onto the bed and curls into a ball beneath the covers. He does not let himself think about the future, he does not let himself think about how his father will look at him tomorrow, and he does not let himself think about what will happen to his mother now that he’s turned out to be a failure. Satoru lets his exhausted body relax and slips into a restless sleep.
* * * * *
The next day, Satoru finds himself sitting in a rickety chair in the middle of a dark room, lit up only by a shaky yellow lamp at the roof. He is surrounded by paper screens, and behind each sits an elder of the Jujutsu world. Satoru’s father stands next to him, one hand clenched tight on his shoulder with his grip only growing tighter by the second.
“What do you mean-”
“An omega? How?”
“This is outrageous-”
“There’s no way-”
“And he has both the Six Eyes and Limitless?”
“I told you nothing good would ever come out of mixing with commoners-”
“-tainted blood-”
“He’s twelve, right?”
“What about mating him off? Surely one of his pups could inherit his techniques.”
Satoru stiffens as he feels their gazes finally land on him, inspecting his body like he’s up for auction. Their eyes feel as if they’re digging into him, cracking him open to see if he has any worth left to them.
“What about Naobito-”
“Now wait just a minute-”
“If the Zenin clan wants an advantage-”
“I think the Kamo clan-”
Satoru clenches his fists so hard they bleed as he listens to men old and wrinkly enough to be his grandfather decide his fate, helpless to do anything as his frustration and anger build. He stares down at his knees as he bites his lip, vision blurring as he feels his eyes fill with tears that he refuses to let fall. Ah, he thinks to himself. So, this is what it feels like to be weak.
His father interjects and ends the meeting soon after, but not without promising to continue the conversation about Satoru’s future spouse at a later date which sends a chill down Satoru’s spine. He is marched home while his father refuses to even look at him, and no one from his clan calls out to him like they did before when they pass them. Word had spread quickly and they, too, know of his shame now.
Satoru is no longer trained by his father and his tutors don’t come to his bedroom anymore to teach him his school subjects. When an elderly lady, smelling faintly of milk and honey, first comes to his room and tells him that she’s here to teach him about omegan etiquette, he almost screams. But Satoru grits his teeth and lets her in. He endures.
The woman, Hanako-san, is an alpha herself. But not like any other alpha he’s ever met. There’s no useless posturing for one thing, and her scent is not overwhelming to his nose. But there’s a quiet strength to the woman despite her age, a steel in her spine that tells everyone who meets her that this is now a woman you want to cross.
She teaches him of the changes his body will soon be going through, how his needs and wants will change in the future. She tells him about omegan biology and physiology, how his body will prepare itself to form a womb soon. Hanako-san lectures him about heats, how every month after he turns seventeen his body will go through a period of fertility during which he’ll crave sex. and how important it is for him to learn to control his scent. But most of all, Hanako-san teaches Satoru about physical touch and how important it is for his developing body. Hanako-san says that every growing child should have plenty of physical affection in their life, hugs, kisses, cuddling but it’s especially important for omegas since they’re the most physical of the designations. But any parent who loves their child should shower them in physical affection, in her opinion.
Satoru thinks back to his childhood and is startled when he realizes he can’t remember a single time his mother had hugged him, or his father had patted his back for a job well done. So, the first time Hanako-san ruffles his hair affectionately, Satoru flinches. Hanako-san simply looks at him with her kind eyes, as if she knows everything from his one move, and Satoru nearly bursts into tears right then and there. But he does not, because Gojo Satoru is the strongest, and instead he simply turns away and stares out the window in the hopes that she’d stop looking at him.
But Hanako-san is someone with plenty of love to give, and with three children and eight grandchildren, she has plenty of experience giving it out. Despite his best efforts, Satoru finds himself leaning into her touches, protesting weakly when she tugs him into her one-armed hugs. His body seems to crave the touch, instantly soothed in the older woman’s presence. He sleeps easier on the days Hanako-san comes for their biweekly lessons, and smiles more freely with the older woman around. He feels stronger, more confident with the affectionate praise she heaps on him and Satoru begins believing that it might not be so bad being an omega.
He doesn’t know how it happens, but one day when he comes in for his lessons with Hanako-san, there’s a beta servant there instead.
“Good morning young master, I am here to inform you that Hanako-san will no longer be coming for your lessons.”
Satoru is confused, “What do you mean? Is the old lady alright? Did something happen to her grandkids?”
“No Young Master, after watching one of your sessions with Hanako-san, the Clan head decided that she wasn’t a suitable teacher for you.”
Satoru feels his blood run cold. His father had seen him with Hanako-san? Had he done something to the older woman? He jolts up in his seat and rushes out the door and towards his father’s study. For the first time since he presented, Satoru confronts his father. He quickly jerks open the door of the study and bursts in, words falling out of his mouth despite the literal wall of pheromones he runs into.
“What the fuck did you do to the old lady?” He demands.
His father sits behind his wooden monstrosity of a desk, calmly doing his paperwork despite Satoru’s abrupt appearance. The silence grows uncomfortable, and just when Satoru is going to speak again, his father sets aside his pen and looks up at him. When his father locks eyes with him, Satoru almost flinches from the emptiness in his gaze. There was never any love in them, Satoru never deluded himself into thinking there was, but there wasn’t any pride, or even disgust in them anymore. Satoru’s father simply didn’t care about him. He might as well be an ant to this man.
“I dismissed her from our employment.”
Satoru drops his shoulders, a weight taken off his chest now that he knows that nothing serious had happened to the old woman. “Why? What did she do wrong?”
His father raises an eyebrow, “She was encouraging weakness in you. Just because I don’t expect anything from you anymore doesn’t mean I want you to grow soft. I still have plans that you’ll be useful for. You are dismissed.”
“But-”
“You are dismissed.”
Satoru flinches, but turns away and quickly walks out of the study and up to his room. He throws himself onto his bed and curls up in the covers. Hanako-san is alright though, and he takes a small comfort in that thought.
After Hanako-san leaves, Satoru is left to his own devices. His father doesn’t bother him, and the servants call out to him from time to time, but other than that, he is left alone. Satoru decides to continue his training except he’d do it alone. He goes out for morning runs, trains against the practice dummies, and at night, he pours over the diaries that previous Gojo clan members had written about Infinity and Limitless. He struggles to make sense of them without the help of his tutors, but Satoru is determined to figure it out, with a small part of him still hoping that his father will see the error of his ways. Because Gojo Satoru is still the strongest.
* * * * *
On the day Satoru turns fifteen, he comes home from the store carrying bags filled to the brim with sweets to an empty house. Which is surprising because while his home is never bustling, there were usually a couple servants around, doing menial tasks. He puts it out of his mind though, looking forward to unpacking the candy he’d bought earlier.
When Satoru walks into the hall leading to his bedroom however, he freezes. There’s tension in the air, and an itch behind his eyes that warns him to be careful. There’s something wrong here. He gently sets down his bags and slowly walks forward, carefully controlling his steps. Satoru reaches the door of his bedroom and instantly there’s alarm bells going off in his mind as he smells the overwhelming and unfamiliar pheromones seeping out from his door. Satoru slowly slides the screen open to find an older man sitting hunched over with his chin propped against his fist on his bed. He looks to be in his mid to late thirties, with brown hair, a fit body, and an unmistakable alpha presence. The man looks up when Satoru opens the door and slowly smirks, looking him up and down. Satoru shudders. The man’s gaze feels disgusting.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He scowls, determined not to let the other man see how unsettled he was.
“You the Gojo boy? This job might be more pleasant than I expected,” the man drawls out, slowly standing up.
There are alarms ringing in Satoru’s head, but he refuses to be intimidated by this man, drawing himself up and glaring at him.
“Again, who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing here?”
The man shifts, and Gojo stiffens as he feels the pheromones he releases saturate the air, muddling his consciousness. Hanako-san had warned him about this, how an alpha’s pheromones would have certain effects on him.
“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that, omega.” The man begins to walk towards him.
Satoru begins to panic, his muscles aren’t listening to him anymore. They feel sluggish, as if he’s trudging through mud, while the alpha in front of him walks normally. His panic begins to grow as the man comes closer and closer until he’s standing right in front of him. The alpha reaches out a hand and rests it on Satoru’s chin, and he flinches his head back violently while his body stays in place.
“What a shame I’m not allowed to mark you though,” he mumbles.
Satoru is shaking at this point, petrified at the implication of what the alpha is going to do to him. His brain is screaming at him to run but his body won’t listen. The alpha in front of him suddenly grabs him by the back of his neck, claws digging into the sides.
“What’re they gonna do though? A chance like this is too good to pass up,” he laughs.
Satoru watches as the man leans in towards his neck, his mind flashing back to Hanako-sans teachings about how a mating bond was supposed to be done between two people who love each other. That it was something sacred, something beautiful. He can feel the alpha’s putrid breath on his neck, the tips of his canines touching his mating gland when suddenly his mind goes blank.
When Satoru finally comes to, who knows how many hours later, his room is a massacre. There is blood across the walls and soaked into his bed sheets. The alpha’s guts are spilled across his floor, while brain matter decorates the roof. There is an eyeball under his bed, and all that remains of the man who attempted to assault him is his body from the waist down. There is warm blood soaking his clothes as well. Satoru feels the candy he ate on his walk home rushing up his throat and he slips and scrambles to the bathroom, barely managing to brace himself against the toilet before throwing up. His stomach heaves, even after there’s nothing left to puke, acid burning the back of his throat. Satoru is shaking, the adrenaline still pumping in his system, so he doesn’t crash quite yet. He hears footsteps from the entrance of his room, and he whips his head over to see his father picking his way over what remains of the alpha.
Despite their limited contact recently, Satoru feels relieved; he prepares to call out to his father, tell him what happened so that he can find out which one of the other two Great clans ordered this disgusting act.
“Tch. This is what I get for using mercenaries. They never get the job done right.” His father wrinkles his nose as he shakes a foot to get rid of some blood stuck to the bottom of his feet, still not acknowledging Satoru’s presence.
Satoru’s blood runs cold. His father knew. His father knew what was going to happen. His father had ordered this alpha to assault him.
“Why,” he manages to croak out through his shredded throat.
His father finally looks at him with those empty eyes and considers his question for a second. “You were becoming too soft. I didn’t want your pups to inherit that weakness.” With that, his father turns and leaves.
Satoru is frozen at first, he doesn’t know how to react. He feels rage building in the pit of his stomach, furious at the man in front of him. But most of all, Satoru feels furious at himself. When did he allow himself to become so weak? To become so soft? He had been enduring for so long, begging for the approval of a man that couldn’t care less for him that he’d forgotten what it had felt like to stand up for himself. It also didn’t escape his notice that everyone in the clan had known about his father’s plans, and none of them had thought to warn him of it.
Satoru was done. He was done playing nice, done following the rules, done trying to please his father as well as every other shaman. He was no longer going to train to protect those weaker than him. Why were they entitled to his protection? His blood, sweat and tears when they would’ve just stood aside and allowed him to get violated? Instead, Satoru was going to train to protect himself. Because Satoru Gojo was the strongest after all, and he didn’t need to play by anyone else’s rules but his own.
After that day, Satoru becomes more jaded and pushes himself harder than ever before. He trains his body until he coughs up blood and stays up late reading about his cursed techniques until he gets a headache. He sharpens his softness until he no longer has to worry about incidents like the one that started it all. His cursed techniques grow in strength until he’s at the point where, most of the time, no one can touch him without his explicit consent. There’s just one aspect of his body that Satoru doesn’t acknowledge. He ignores the omegan needs of his body, especially touch and he swallows pills to delay his heats for as long as he possibly can despite the adverse effects they may have on his body.
Satoru knows that if Hanako-san were to see him now, she’d frown and scold him in that soft voice of hers, tell him that ignoring his body’s needs was unhealthy, and that every growing child needs plenty of touch. But the omega side of himself had brought Satoru nothing but heartache and pain every time he’d acknowledged it in the past. He simply can’t bring himself to care about that part of himself anymore, the terror of that day with the alpha still sharp in his mind. Sure, he doesn’t sleep as well as before, he’s irritable and tired all the time. But most of all, he’s safe.
And Satoru is fine with that. He’s never had any problems; in fact, he even tells himself that he prefers it that way. Satoru keeps everyone he meets at an arms length with snark words, cruel comments and a haughty indifference. He hardens his heart to any attempt from students and teachers alike to reach across his barriers because showing vulnerability is like practically begging someone to hurt him. And it works for a long time, until he meets an alpha named Geto Suguru in his second year at Jujutsu Technical College and all of the carefully constructed barriers in the world couldn’t save his heart from falling for that boy.