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Gojo Satoru was happy. Sure, his mother died and he wasn’t allowed to leave the compound to go to the cremation ceremony. She wasn’t part of the clan anyways. Sure, he had to spend all day training and learning with not a second of peace. He was happy, so very happy.
Sure, he had no friends to speak of but he was now told he was above everyone else. So why should he be sad?
“You’re will be the strongest.” They told him, mouths wide in fake smiles but it never reaching their eyes, “we will make sure of it.”
They trained him to exhaustion. Every night he found himself collapsing into his bed and passing out until sunrise the next morning.
The first day was the worst. “Can I have a small break?” He had asked. “No.” They had replied, “do this move again.”
He was fine. He had a family. A big one too. He had cousins! Sure, they ran and scurried past him when he walked past. Sure, they never looked at him, heads always bowed low. Sure, he heard them being berated when one shared her lollies with him. It was fine. He was happy and they looked happy when he spied through a crack in the door.
He was so very happy.
The second day was the worst. Satoru was already tired and sore from the first day. “I’m tired.” He said. “You’re Gojo Satoru , you don’t get tired.” They replied, “make your Infinity stronger.”
He was fine. He was happy.
Fushiguro came to visit. In week 2. He got the day off of training because of it.
(He wished Fushiguro would visit everyday.)
The next day was worse. Pain flared in his system and he cried. “You are the Six Eyes, don’t cry. You have nothing to be sad about.” They slapped him when he didn’t stop.
He truly had nothing the be sad about.
The day of the 3rd month was the worst. He had no tears left to cry, even if he did he wouldn’t. He was above that. He had progressed more academically and physically than he ever had in his life. He was the strongest in just 3 months. Training didn’t exhaust him. He couldn’t get exhausted.
He held a sombre look on his face and tore through each day’s new training routine. There was nothing they could surprise him with. He was the strongest, the honoured one.
He held his head high when he walked through the halls, not even looking at those who scurried through the halls and bowed their heads as to not draw his attention. He was too good for their eyes. Who were they? Gojo didn’t know.
He was happy.
He got to see Fushiguro again. He stood by his uncle’s side when Fushiguro arrived. But once he saw him, he knew he couldn’t stay stoic. Fushiguro was a good friend. He tried to keep his excitement contained. He clearly failed by the way his uncle shot him a look promising pain. That was, if he could touch Gojo .
Fushiguro looked at him worriedly and fussed over him, handing him lollies and letting pat Totality. This was when no one was looking of coarse. Satoru didn’t want Fushiguro to get banned from the compound.
He was so
happy.
Fushiguro left. He always does.
Gojo was punished, had extra lessons, was reminded he was still human.
Though, not for long. Weeks after that incident, 1 week before a sister-school event that Fushiguro told him about was set to take place, Gojo was stronger than anyone. He marched into that cold room with his uncle.
He stared down anyone who dared look at him. He approached the chair his uncle sat in, stepping just over the boundary to where he should’ve stood.
He calmly stated his request. “I want to go to Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
The big man chuckled, “you really think we’ll let you go, Six Eyes?”
Satoru smirked a devilish grin. “You mistake me,” he took another step forward and saw the sweat form on the other’s brow, “I’m not asking. I will go. Nobody will or can stop me.” He made his demand and waited for the reaction.
They wouldn’t deny him. He was a special grade in 3 months, special grade from birth. He was the honoured one, a god . They wouldn’t dare risk his wrath.
The man swallowed. “Very well, i will make arrangements.”
Satoru smiled like the Cheshire cat.
He truly was very, very happy.