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Toji hadn’t exactly wanted his kid to be raised by, of all people, the six-eyed Gojo brat. But he also hadn’t wanted to be killed by him, and when said brat was standing above him, asking if he had any last words while Toji felt the warmth of his own blood pool under him, he realized a few things.
The first was that he was probably going to die. He couldn’t really fault himself for that, though, who’d have thought that a stab in the head wouldn’t stick? Figured that would be the moment the brat finally understood reverse cursed technique. So, fine. He was going to die outside the stupid Time Vessel Association building.
The second was that his kid was going to be sold to the Zenin family. Well, that wasn’t really a realization. Maybe not his best decision, but he’d lived his life always doing what he had to do and not looking back, and if he had an inherited technique, life would surely be better for him there than it had been for Toji. Definitely.
Quickly following that realization was that he didn’t want his kid to go to the Zenin. He didn’t want to make them any stronger, especially not against whatever the hell this Gojo brat was.
The last thing he realized as he stood there, ears ringing and vision starting to darken, was that the brat was probably the only person in the world who could stop the Zenin from getting Megumi.
When it all went dark and quiet, he figured it didn’t matter that much anyway, not to him; not anymore.
Until.
Until suddenly it wasn’t quiet, and he heard the crickets chirping incessantly and opened his eyes and realized that he could open his eyes. It had been dark outside the building, and as his hands flew to his stomach, he realized that the hole in him was gone. He sat up and looked around, but he was alone.
He had no idea who had saved him, or why, but he’d never been one to turn down any good opportunity, so he disappeared himself, only going back home once to see what had happened to his kid— and sure enough, there was the Gojo brat, with Megumi and Tsumiki. No Zenin in sight.
He couldn’t have said what brought him back, after ten years of wandering the world, free for the first time in his life. He could feel himself getting older, though, moving slower in the mornings, and thinking more about Megumi, what he was like, now, how he had turned out raised by the Gojo brat.
What he hadn’t expected, when he’d finally gotten an idea of the places that Gojo frequented and had sat himself outside a cafe, watching and waiting for him to finally show up, was to see said brat kissing someone, who— no, there was no doubt about it, it was definitely Megumi.
He was on his feet before he was thinking, taking fast, heavy steps towards the table that the two were seated at, attempts at stealth forgotten. As he barrelled towards them, the Gojo looked up at him and raised his eyebrows in amusement, while beside him Megumi jumped to his feet.
Gojo smiled, all pleasant and menacing, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. “Never thought I’d have the displeasure of seeing you alive again.”
Toji grimaced, and spit the words out between tightly clenched teeth: “Right back atcha, Six Eyes.” He looked to Megumi, who was squinting at him, stance readied for a fight; and then back at Gojo, still leaning back in his chair casually. “What the fuck are you doing with my kid?”
Gojo remained unphased, picking up a pastry from his plate, but out of the corner of his eye, Toji watched Megumi’s demeanor change, stance dropping as he turned to look at Gojo.
“Gojo-sensei, who is this guy?” Toji watched something— hesitation? fear?— flash across Gojo’s face, but he didn’t look towards Megumi.
“Don’t you remember your dear old dad, Megumi?”
Megumi looked back at Toji, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Fushiguro Toji,” Gojo said, gesturing an open hand towards him in place of further explanation.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Toji answered, voice low.
Gojo raised his eyebrows. “Do you really want to try that again? Here, in front of all these nice people? Because I can promise you,” he paused to take a bite of the pastry in his hand, crumbs spilling down his white shirt, “I’m a lot stronger than I was last time.”
“Last time?” Megumi asked, bracing his hands against the table.
Toji raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t tell him?” He tensed up his back, balled his fists, readied himself, but Gojo, not even looking at him, raised a flat palm in the air.
“Listen,” he said, setting down his pastry, leaning forward to look at Toji, “I know things didn’t go so well between us last time we saw each other. But I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and talk with you, for the sake of family. ” He smiled, eyelashes fluttering as if he were the picture of innocence.
“Family— you fucking killed me!”
“You what ?” Megumi looked at Gojo.
Gojo turned to him, “Um, he technically killed me first,” then looked back to Toji. “You’re not dead,” he said, squinting at him, as if it had only just occurred to him. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“You tell me, sorcerer, because I don’t know.”
“Huh,” Gojo said, leaning back in his chair again. “Interesting. Come on, sit with us, Toji, let’s talk. And if you really want to, we can fight it out afterwards— oh, can I call you Dad?”
Before Toji could open his mouth, he saw Megumi’s hand rise, and watched him knock Gojo on the head with a closed fist, moving through his Infinity like it was nothing.
“Satoru,” he said, warning, and the older man actually pouted, but was quiet . Megumi turned to Toji. “I’m sorry about him. Please,” he gestured to the open seat at the table.
Toji studied Megumi for a moment. Gojo— Satoru? — had actually listened to him, had let Megumi’s hand move through his barrier unstopped. “Fine,” he said, and sat across from the two.
Megumi sat back down as well, and turned to Gojo. “What did you mean, ‘last time’?”
Gojo groaned. “I had a mission, when I was a student, to escort this girl to the school, and some assholes paid him, ” he gestured to Toji, “to kill her. So he killed me, and her, and her guardian, and almost—” he stopped himself, and then barrelled on. “He killed me, and that was when I finally figured out how to use reverse cursed technique, and then I went and killed him.”
“And?” Toji raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, right! Before I killed him, he told me about you, Megumi. That he had a kid who was going to be sold off to the Zenin family. So a couple of years later, when— a couple of years later, I went to stop that.” Megumi was studying Gojo, but didn’t say anything.
“I told you that so you would stop it,” Toji said, slowly, “not so that you could— why are you kissing him, are some kind of cradle robber?”
“Hey, he kissed me first!” Gojo said, leaning forward into Toji’s face.
“Oh, so nothing’s ever your fault, is it?”
“That’s not fair—”
“Shut up!” Megumi slammed his hands on the table. “I can make my own decisions,” he said, looking pointedly at Toji. He turned to Gojo, “Can you let us talk for a few minutes, Satoru?”
Gojo made a face, then sighed. “Fine.”
As he walked away, Toji watched him. “He actually listens to you.”
“I don’t need your opinions on my relationship,” Megumi said, with a glare.
He studied Toji for a long moment. “Why didn’t you come back?”
Toji looked away and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know about the Zenin, right? How they are?” Megumi nodded. “I thought that if they thought I was dead, things would be easier for you. And that if there was anybody who could stop them getting ahold of you and your sister, it would be him.”
Megumi nodded again. “Well, you were right.”
“How is she, your sister?”
“Oh. She got,” he swallowed, “cursed. She’s alive, but she’s been asleep for a couple of years now. They don’t know what it is.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
Toji looked at him, the way his face had grown and changed, how different he was now from that little boy he’d left behind.
He thought back to his own youth, to the Zenin estate, the training, the cruelty, to the pit of curses, the scars; he didn’t see any on Megumi. “Did you… have a good childhood, Megumi?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, with a small smile. “Me and Tsumiki, we both did.”
“And he…” Toji shut his eyes, sighed long and loud. “He takes care of you?” He met Megumi’s eyes. “He makes you happy?”
Megumi smiled. “Of course he does.”
Toji leaned back. “I guess he’s not the same kid I met ten years ago.”
“No, I don’t think he is.” Megumi answered.
“You’re not either,” Gojo said, walking back towards them, cracking a smile at Toji. “But here’s how I see it: You don’t like the Zenin, I don’t like the Zenin, or any of the old families, really; and we both care about Megumi, so we’re basically on the same team here, right Toji?” He wrapped an arm each around Toji and Megumi.
In near-perfect unison, both of them pushed him off.
“Whatever,” Toji muttered.
“Shut up,” Megumi said.
“Aww,” Gojo cooed, resting his chin on his fists. “Like father, like son!”
“I changed my mind, I’m gonna kill him,” Toji said, moving to rise from his chair.
Megumi raised a hand to stop him. “No, no, I’ll do it.” Satoru pouted, and Toji smiled.
He hadn’t exactly wanted his kid to be raised by Satoru Gojo, of all people. But, watching the two of them together, he thought that it probably wasn’t the worst outcome.