Chapter Text
Gojo is the strongest. He was the only holder of both Six Eyes and Limitless. He was the chosen one. That was until he wasn’t.
The clouds in the blue sky were pretty. They were prettier knowing that it’d probably be the last time he’ll see them. His severed body was just of the past. Time was fleeting from him as Gojo was grasping at the threads of his life just for a bit. He felt nothingness, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Gojo felt like he deserved a bit of silence, grabbing the last straws of his life in desperation for a bit of peace.
For the first time in his life, it was finally quiet. His Six Eyes could rest, feeling them close one by one. His infinity barrier slowly dissipated, no point in protecting his body anymore. Gojo stopped using the reversal cursed technique that went into overdrive due to healing his body from Sukuna’s repeated attacks. It was nice enjoying his last moments without having to use any of his powers anymore. Laying flat on the ground, Gojo only felt a breeze brush his face and his short breaths leaving his lungs.
He saw clouds of smoke and two figures passing by in the sky. Ah, they’re still fighting. I should help, but I’m tired. I just need a small nap. He smiled at the sky, slowly closing his eyes. Maybe it was a bit selfish for him to leave too quickly when he was just freed from the box. Everybody was expecting him to beat Sukuna. Although, he just didn’t want to be bothered with it anymore. I’m tired. Is this how you felt when I killed you, Geto? Geto didn’t get to finish what he started because he wasn’t strong enough and led to his death.
“Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?” Geto’s haunting me. How evil.
His life flashed before his eyes. He saw the greediness in the clan’s eyes as soon as he popped out of the womb. He saw the higher ups breathing a sigh of relief when they got someone to carry the weight of the Jujutsu society. He saw the first time he could use his cursed techniques, when he destroyed his hands along with Jujutsu High School to master Red and Blue.
He saw when he was defeated by Toji, when he failed to protect Riko, when his best friend fell apart. He saw his best friends, Nanami, Shoko, and Geto. He saw his students carrying the burden heavier than what teenagers should deal with.
Now all of his students are either dead, incapable of fighting, or alone.
He heard footsteps amidst the ringing. “Don’t leave me too, Gojo sensei. I’ll do it right this time. I’ll get Sukuna. I’ll get him back and die with him,” Yuuji cried out. “I’m so sorry for Megumi. I- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Oh, I don’t want Yuuji to see me like this. “Try getting stronger than me, yeah?” Gojo faintly whispered, softly chuckling with his last breath. His Six Eyes finally shut down. He couldn’t be bothered with opening his eyes but hoped that Yuuji felt better.
“How can- how can you still joke during this time?” Yuuji bitterly said. Truly, what a funny way to die.
______
Gojo’s eyes peeled open. His head hurt and the ringing in his ears attacked his senses, overtaking his sight and made him see in black orbs. Gojo’s head throbbed every time he blinked combined with his nausea and dizziness, so he settled for closing his eyes. His breaths were coming out in short puffs. What kind of weird dream was he in for his eyes to still work?
He was pretty sure that his body was long gone after Sukuna sliced him in half. So, it came to a surprise when he could hear a piece of cloth rustling next to his ear. He slowly blinked his eyes open, trying to get over the light sensitivity. Gojo placed his hands in front of his eyes to cover the white lights only to find out that they still shone through his hands. He felt the warm light fall upon his face and he realized his hands got smaller. He screamed, or tried to, but what came out was a squeaky garbled noise. He tried forming sentences with what felt like his mouth. It was futile, realizing he didn’t have teeth. What evil curse did this to me, he stated more than a question. Someone strong enough was able to revive me? And into a baby of all things?
In an attempt for answers, he looked up to see a couple peering over at him. Both who were way too close for comfort and who smiled too brightly. It was a woman with long white hair, and a man with jet black curls and blue piercing eyes. Somehow, it was a couple who eerily looked similar to himself, not quite like his parents back in the Gojo clan. No, somebody or something cursed me into this nightmare. The man picked him up from what looked like a crib and rocked him back and forth.
“Isn’t our baby so cute? Gojo Satoru, the cutest baby ever.” the man chuckled. Fuck . That’s when he realized Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in Jujutsu society, got reincarnated into a baby.
______
Satoru was a good kid, but a bit too smart for a one year old. He started forming sentences with his little teeth and ran faster than her friends’ kid. As his mom, she thought she’d be the one to pick him up when he fell or wipe his tears, but none of that ever happened. She never saw him fall, never saw him cry, never saw him do anything other kids would do. She just assumed that Satoru was just more special than other kids.
______
The cursed energy in this world was strange. It was different from the cursed energy that was leaking from humans or the controlled one from sorcerers. The people here had abilities similar to cursed techniques and were called “quirks.” There were some who could control their tech- “quirk” decently, but he saw others losing control. It’s still strange to him to use the term “quirk” instead of “cursed energy.” Still strange to him that this world’s people could also control cursed energy to a certain degree. It looked different than the one at home, but it was nonetheless cursed energy. He realized that he was the only one that could see the blue cursed energy every time someone used their quirk, a small aura around their hand or other body part.
This world also had an absence of curses. Instead, there were Villains, and those apprehending Villains were Heroes, made up of people using their “quirks” for the better good of society. Instead of Jujutsu sorcerers hiding in their small society and exorcizing curses in different parts of Japan, Heroes were stationed in their precinct. It was weird seeing the billboards or commercials of heroes promoting their brand. If you asked him, Satoru liked the spotlight but not the media that would follow Heroes' every movement; he already had enough with that from the higher ups in his last life.
He was “two” when his “quirk” manifested, or that’s what his parents and doctor thought. Gojo wasn’t two nor did he have a quirk (more like he had quirks). He was practicing his cursed techniques, Six Eyes, Limitless, and infinity right as soon as he opened his eyes in this new world. But nonetheless, Gojo hid it to be sure his powers weren’t exploited. He didn’t want another round of that happening, again. The doctor told his parents that his quirk was weak and named it as Advanced Sight. All they knew was that it overstimulated his brain and it would need adjusting.
“Tell me when you need the blindfold. Okay, Gojo? Nobody will think you look weird with it.” his mom said.
They didn’t know that his quirk was still weak. His eyes were overstimulating, but he didn’t need the blindfolds yet. Right now, he could get used to them before they got too strong. His Limitless and infinity was weak too, not quite at the same level as he was before he died. It would take some time for his abilities to manifest again, especially in a small toddler’s body.
______
Maybe Satoru was a bit too special when he manifested his quirk faster than others. His quirk was quite different to both her and her husband’s quirk. Her being a simple fire quirk and her husbands’ a mutation quirk.
It was hard to digest that such a smart kid was her child. Satoru was smarter than his classmates in kindergarten as well, speaking with perfect diction and enunciation. Actually for the most part, he acted smarter than her sometimes.
Well whatever, Satoru was always going to be just a bit special than others.
______
Gojo was ten when he first encountered his first Hero. Sure, he saw Heroes and Villains, and their presence on TV, either through advertisements, commercials, and news stations, but he didn’t care for them. His parents didn’t seem to care either, as if they were trying to shield him from the violent reality of their world. From what he saw, there were Hero rankings, most notably the top two who were All Might and Endeavor. Their quirks were the flashiest ones he’s seen by far, that probably being the reason they got the most votes. He saw that there was a young rising Hero by the name Hawkes who could control the feathers of his wings and fly with them. Huh. A flashy quirk as well.
Gojo uses his blindfold now since his quirk got stronger. His eyes strain his head when he practices using Six Eyes for too long. His quirk was getting stronger and growing faster than before, probably because he wasn’t actually ten. His parents noticed it getting stronger too when he started using a blindfold. Like when he could walk around their house without bumping into anything. Or when he could answer a question while pointing his head directly to their eyes with a blindfold on.
Anyways, Gojo was walking near a park at night, just like he always did, finding new things about this strange world everyday. Like how mutation quirks were fascinating to him. Yeah, there was Panda, but there wasn’t this many mutants he’d seen in his life.
At this point, he probably should’ve been in bed sleeping, especially when he was quite literally in the body of a toddler right now. The chances of him being abducted were high, but he couldn’t care enough. The cool breeze on his face felt nice.
He was thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. In this life, everything that defined him before was gone. Nobody calls him the chosen one anymore (excluding his parents gloating on how special he is). It was weird not having people see him more than a weapon or a titleholder his whole life. It was strange living without being overworked. Satoru doesn't think he’ll ever let that habit die. He was overworked by his clan and the higher ups since he was born, using his cursed techniques till he passed out sometimes.
Although he had his blindfold on, Gojo looked up at the sky and couldn’t help but think, is this the world you wanted to live in Getou? In a world where curses don’t exist and a place where we don’t have to fight for our lives because of them. All these thoughts are messing with his head; Satoru thinks he’s sappier now because he’s all alone. After Getou betrayed the Jujutsu society and died at his hands, he felt alone but at the very least had some people by his side. Shoko, Nanami, and his students were there.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard desperate panting and two pairs of footsteps a couple blocks away. He tries to listen closer and hears two heartbeats, one of which is racing abnormally. Hmm? What’s going on over there? Gojo checks his phone and sees that it’s 4am. Shouldn’t everybody be asleep? He scratches his head and teleports there in confusion.
There, he teleports to a sidewalk near the town’s shops and restaurants, all dark and quiet. In the distance, he sees a woman quickly shuffling towards his direction while constantly turning around to look over her back. Her footsteps were quieter than other people he’s met, maybe it’s her quirk? She was trying to control her breath, as if she was trying to keep quiet from something. Then what, or who, was she trying to hide from?
Turning her head back to Gojo, she yelps. “Fuck kid, what are you doing here? It’s midnight, don’t you have school or something?” she sounded panicked, her clothes ruffled and dirty. “Just follow me and we can hide from the big bad monster,” the woman motioned her hands for them to go into an alleyway of a raman shop.
“Nope, tomorrow’s Saturday! And what big bad monster?” He tilted his head but followed her anyway. “Why not call for help?”
“Nobody cares about places like this. Everybody stays quiet to survive.” Just then, he hears heavier footsteps and breathing from a short distance. The woman motioned her finger towards her lips and lip synced, shush, before realizing he couldn’t see and whispered, “Be quiet for just a little.”
“Where are you?” he hears a man creepily chuckling. “Just come to me and it’ll be over as soon as it starts. I mean, who else are you going to go to? The Heros?” the man starts sneering. “They don’t care about you. They don’t care about us! There’s no police because they’re too scared. There’s no Heroes because they can’t be bothered to care. But I’m here. I care,” the man continues with his long monologue. So this was the man that ruined Satoru’s sad thoughts about his life? Seriously?
Okay, Gojo thinks he let that man talk for too long. This is the perfect opportunity for him to practice on a live dummy. Satoru smiled wide and whispered back, “I got this.”
“Wha-,” the woman furrowed her eyebrows and confusedly questions right before Satoru teleports a short distance behind the man.
“Hey mister, over here,” Gojo jumps and waves. “I’m lost, could you help me?”
The man turns around to him and tries changing his demeanor into a kid-friendly one, a bad attempt if you ask him. “Hi little kid, I could help you if you help me. Have you seen a woman walking around here? I think she got lost.” He roughly states.
“Hmm.” Gojo pretends to think and points behind the man. “I have! Right behind you!” The man turns around and realizes that Gojo was messing with him.
He scowls in anger, “You little shit, you really don’t understand your situation do you? Nobody is here to help you.” As if he just realized something, the man looks up in thought, “Yeah, that’s right. Nobody is here to see your throat getting sliced.”
Gojo’s mouth splits into a feral grin. “Isn’t that better for me? Your body won’t even be recognized as cells.”
He starts to walk up to the man, forming a bit of his cursed energy at the knuckles of his fist and sends it directly to the man’s chest, causing him to be sent flying into the air across the sidewalk. The man freefalls back onto the other side of the road, directly making contact with the concrete with a loud thud. The bones of his spine cracked on impact and his breath sucked out of his lungs. Gojo eyebrows furrow and he bursts out laughing, “Oops, I think I overestimated you?”
I’m supposed to be practicing my control, so I hope I didn’t kill him. The man stays silent until he starts breathing heavier. Yay, still alive.
“Huh-,” the man’s voice is cut off, rough and unrecognizable. He starts coughing up blood and stumbles up to his knees in confusion. He seems to be in shock or something. He breathes in and out before looking at Gojo’s eyes, or where his eyes would be.
Before the man could make another move, Gojo teleports next to the man and floats to meet his face and socks him in the face. The man falls to the ground again, and in desperation scrambles up to his knees to crawl away into an alleyway. “Aww my punches are so weak. I thought they’d be stronger,” Gojo complains.
The man rises up and his face is filled with fear, the thought of being defeated finally daunting over his mind. The man’s adrenaline must be pumping like crazy since he could still use his quirk, turning one of his hands into a knife. He propels the knife into Gojo’s side.
The man laughed before looking down and realized that the knife slowed down midair. He still felt his hand moving forward and recoiled his arm back. Gojo commented, “That’s unfair! Bringing a weapon to a fist fight? Didn’t anyone teach you that you aren’t supposed to do that?”
In response, the white-haired kid sends a kick to the man’s calves and spins, using the momentum to raise his fists and knock the man over again until he’s skidding over the floor. Gojo grabs him by the collar and throws the man deeper into the alleyway. The man finally realized the situation he was in, backing into an abandoned building behind him. Blood seeping out of his mouth and his bruised eyes bloodshot and dilated. His blonde hair disheveled, pointing in all directions.
“This fight will have to end soon though. I hear a rat.” Gojo muttered. He heard someone’s footsteps on top of the roof, coming closer and closer to the alleyway. He stared at where he heard the footsteps stop.
On cue, a man with dark eyebags jumps down from the roof and releases strands of white cloth around the guy in front of him. The man with the cloth looks directly at the other and uses his quirk, causing the knife to turn back into a hand. I wonder if that quirk would work against mine.
“What the fuck? Why are you getting me? Get that kid over there! Look at how messed up I am!” the man shouts.
He ignores the man and wraps the cloth around his mouth. He turns to Gojo in disbelief, “What’s your name, kid? You shouldn’t be here late at night. You could’ve gotten severely injured.”
Ignoring his first question he answers, “It was self-defense! He threatened me and another woman.”
Speaking of the devil, the same woman comes running to him, out of breath. “Where’d you go, kid? I was looking for you. I was trying to warn you of the man- oh my god is that him?”
“Tada~!” the boy waves his hands around the man. “I got him!” The man doesn’t even look that bad for taking his cursed energy. He minimized the damage, afterall Gojo was trying out using small amounts of it.
The other man just looks at the white-haired kid in shock, opening his mouth to retort but sighs instead. “I have no words.” He closes his eyes and pinches his nose bridge. “Let me make a phone call first and we can get back.” He dials someone on his phone and makes a quick message, “Fourth street. There is a detained man with a knife quirk and he threatened a kid and woman. He needs immediate medical help.”
The man ends the call and introduces himself, “I’m an underground hero and my name is Eraserhead. I will be the hero patrolling this area from now on. Now if you could please come with me to the police station for questioning.”
The woman shrugs at Gojo and follows the hero. Gojo fakes a gasp, “Wait, I just remembered something important.”
Both people turn to look over at him. “What is it, kid?” the hero and woman say at the same time.
Gojo widens his eyes and giggles, “It’s past my bedtime!” He teleports away right back into the safety of his own bedroom.
Eraserhead? Gojo’s seen that name online somewhere, and seen even less stories about the man. Eh, whatever. I’ll probably never run into him again.
He gets into bed, exhausted from exerting the most cursed energy in years and promptly falls asleep.
______
Aizawa overheard news about rising death tolls in a district from a Detective Tsukauchi and his colleague.
“A serial killer in that district is still on loose. I brought it up to the Hero’s Commission, but they said they’re trying to find a hero with the capabilities to do the job.”
Okay, maybe Aizawa eavesdropped and took a job that was out of his reach, but he needed to see the situation in front of his eyes. So, he took a shift off from his regular patrol and went to a quick detour around the area, or that’s what he was expecting.
What he wasn’t expecting to see was a small child, looking around the age of 10, in front of a battered body. It was the body of a man. The man looked to be in his 30s, black hair, knife quirk, similar to the description of the serial killer in the area. It’s nothing like what he heard from the reports, instead he saw a man that was slouched over and barely breathing. What did the kid do to him? At this point, the kid wasn’t flinching or scared, as if he’s been in this situation before. What did the kid go through that made him so fearless, so strong?
Aizawa uses his capture tape and wraps it around the man and disables the knife. He ignores the man’s annoying chatter and turns to the white-haired kid in curiosity, “What’s your name, kid? You shouldn’t be here late at night. You could’ve gotten severely injured.”
What creeped Aizawa even more was that the kid was staring directly at him, his face unreadable. Even with the blindfold on, the kid knew he was going to be there. The Underground Hero was sure that he was being stealthy; he was doing this job years after all.
Maybe it was the kid’s quirk? But that doesn’t explain what happened to the other man’s face. The kid had a quirk that could sense him and a strengthening quirk? Doesn’t make sense, nothing was adding up.
“It was self-defense! He threatened to kill me and another woman.”
Self-defense was an understatement. A severe understatement. The man had a leg pointing in a direction that should not be possible and was bleeding nonstop. It was safe to say he needed immediate medical help.
After he introduced himself, he asked the two to go with him to the police department. After all, the Hero wanted the full story and needed to find out where the kid’s parents were. He hoped that-
“Wait, I just remembered something important.” Aizawa hears from the boy.
“What is it, kid?”
The boy laughs, “It’s past my bedtime!” He teleports away, not even a trace of him to be seen.
Another quirk?!? Aizawa sighs for what felt like the millionth time and stands there in shock. He rubs his eyes, thinking, this is just another headache waiting to happen.
Just a moment later, he realized, I didn’t even get a name.