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Chapter Text

Koro-Sensei didn't expect to wake up. If his students' plans worked well, he wasn’t supposed to wake up at all. And yet… Yet…His mind is racing, which is not a good sign. If he is thinking,he must still be living. Did Nagisa not hit his heart? No. He must have. He saw the blade as it went down, he felt it piece his heart. And Naigsa wouldn't have missed, not with what was at stake. Not with what he was fully prepared to do. Besides, the pain of it was real. It was an intense feeling like fire was poured down into his heart. It was the creeping feeling of coldness as his blood slowed down. It was the way his thoughts slowed to a crawl, his voice quiet. It was how the last thing he saw was his students, and their tears, and the lights his body turned into. He, at the very least, appreciates the irony of how for one who spent a lot of time in the dark, he turned into light. 

He hopes the students are OK. 

He really hopes they are OK.

He wants them to know that he is proud.

He decides to try and see what is going on though. He unwillingly opens his eyes…and is immediately blinded by the sun! He hisses, automatically curling up further into the…bed? A bed? Is he…But he is supposed to be dead! Is this some kind of purgatory? …He isn't optimistic enough to believe he deserves heaven. He may have had certain rules, hurting children being one of them, but damn he had too much blood on his hands. One year teaching his students was never going to do it! To assume so, would be doing a disservice to his skills! Not to mention that for the most part he hardly regrets the deaths he caused. He only ever regretted how things turned out when they personally affected him. He knows he is not a good person for thinking that. 

Back to the point. He tries again, opening his eyes once more and being shocked at being in a room. He…Hmm. He sits up, realising that while the room he is in is more traditional bedroom, the bed he was on seemed to show that wherever he is doesn’t mind western influences. Quite honestly he does prefer beds over futons. Makes it easier to hide things. He sits up, realising slowly how this place seems to be real. He can feel the bed shift as he moves. He can feel the weight that the duvet gives him, the pillows fluffed up behind him. He can feel how he isn't in his old form. He looks down to see pale and smooth skin, a normal hand if a bit smaller than he thought, instead of bright yellow tentacles. Speaking of being smaller, why is he so small? He’s even smaller than Kayano or Nagisa! 

He gets up from the bed, marvelling at the feel of feet after having spent a year- which felt like eternity and yet still too short- having tentacles instead of the things most humans have. He puts a hand over his heart, confused on why he was here. Was this some kind of holding room in purgatory? No…He never was particularly religious before, but he had many lone nights to contemplate his death and the possibility of the afterlife. He had hoped he could…It doesn't matter. Clearly wherever he is, is not a place of death. He gets up, noting a window that was letting in sunbeams, something that probably had blinded him earlier. But his attention gets caught by a long mirror, the type you could use to view a whole person…

What the fuck?!

Why is he so different looking? Turns out the shortness was because he has somehow a child again! But instead of his previous looks, he was left with completely new looks! He may have been a bright yellow octopus for the last living year of his life but he very distinctly remembers how he looked before. It was a rather attractive if not plain face. Pale skin and dark eyes that were almost black. Dark hair that was thick and easy to style in whatever he needed, though he mainly kept it short for simplicity’s sake. But now he had very bright, very vivid blue eyes, with a shock of white hair that seemed to be rather fluffy looking. 

“What the heck is going on? Did the class manage to find a way to…No. I made it clear I didn’t mind being killed, not to mention there was no way that they could have administered some kind of antidote. Not to mention how they…Their crying wouldn’t have been so loud and very real sounding if they had a cure. Not to mention I had explained to them how I couldn’t really be left alive. Not after what I’ve done…So how am I alive?” he thought to himself, pacing the room, his senses stretched out in case someone came.  “Ok. Ok. Look at the facts.” he tells himself, forcing his racing heart to calm down. “I felt my heart be pierced. Nagisa definitely stabbed me. It was a very direct and critical hit. There would have been no way for me to be able to regenerate from that. Kayano only landed that hit in because I made sure it wasn’t completely lethal. Regardless, a direct hit should have killed me….What if it did? That could explain some things. Like why I’m here. Why I look so different and why I’m a young kid again.” 

And with that answer in his head, it was like the floodgates had opened in his mind. Images and blurry thoughts entered his mind, causing him to clutch at his head as the images swam around. He took a moment to feel embarrassed at letting such a sound out, before the pain of the headache caused him to dismiss it. Thankfully he wasn’t brought to his knees by all the new knowledge flooding his head. But he froze upon realising what was going on. Apparently reincarnation was the reason for this. Ok. A… little strange, and it truly did feel like he was missing some pieces of information but he could sense that his mind, while certainly mature for its age, was still young. Meaning he could and would act like a child would. “That…That will be interesting to experience…” he notes somewhat bitterly. At least before he tenses up upon realising something.

He has a name. 

A name which was something he never had before. 

At least, not a name given to him by parents.

His name…

His name is Satoru Gojo.

“Well. This will be interesting.” he says to himself.

Chapter Text

A servant opened the door not long after his little breakdown. The woman at his door wore a simple brown kimono with a dark blue ribbon, and it was clear she was one of the older servants. She had greying hair that still held brown sections to it, and her wrinkles were clearly seen. She had kind brown eyes to match, and overall had a very quiet presence. “Chiyo- sama” a voice in his head spoke out. Ah…right. Chiyo was one of the Gojo clan’s servants (and yes his mind was blown away at the reminder that his clan was rich! Goodbye shitty teacher salary!). In fact she was one of his own personal servants, his own caretaker. And from what he recalled, a far better mother figure than the one he barely knows of. 

Of course he only knows a little so maybe there is a reason for that. 

“Satoru- sama, you’re up already?” Chiyo said with some surprise. “Normally I have to try and force you awake.”

Ah. He bashfully ducks his head a little, a small nervous chuckle escaping. He may have been a master assassin in his past life, but he was very aware of how becoming a tentacled creature with the capacity to destroy the world left him with little to no emotional control, a control that had only degraded further with his students' presence in his life. Not that he ever regretted it. It showed how much he had changed from his previous self. “Ah. Sorry Chiyo- sama.” he said politely, before saying “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Chiyo raised an eyebrow seeing a politer version of the young master she was used to serving. “Crap.” was the only thought, but he kept a small smile on his face, not giving anything away. It seemed Chiyo had dropped it for the moment, instead just moving onto his closet and grabbing some kimonos out of the large closet in the room. He took the time to inspect the room, and he was struck by how…lifeless it was. Where were the toys? The books? All he was struck by was how clean and tidy this place was. Koro recalled the fact that he was supposed to be 4. So where was the usual mess that came with youth? 

Chiyo helped him get into his clothes and reminded him “It’s no surprise you couldn’t sleep. It isn’t very often you have a morning meal with your parents.”

He flinched slightly at the reminder that in this life, he has parents. Something he never had in his old life. Chiyo frowned slightly at the flinch, but kindly didn’t say anything. From what he could recall from…Well himself… It would seem his parents were very distant, very busy and too disconnected from him…All because of his cursed technique? Which he could vaguely recall as some kind of superpower you were born with. Apparently he was very powerful. 

“Satoru- sama…” Chiyo called out, pulling Koro out of his thoughts. He faced her, tilting his head “Yes Chiyo-sama?”

“Are you alright? You seem…very quiet. It is unlike you.” there was a flicker of worry in her kind brown eyes. What to say? Should he lie? Should he throw the kid card? What is the right thing to do in this case? He frowns slightly, unsure on how to proceed. He decides to go to a middle ground for now.

“I…I had a nightmare, Chiyo-sama..” he said nervously.

“A nightmare?” she said, crouching down to his level, making him feel much more heard. No, the feeling in his heart isn’t something soft. No. You’re crazy for that.

He nods his head. “I…Have you ever woken up and not been able to recognise yourself?” he asks her, which gives her pause.

“I can’t say I ever have. Is that what happened to you?” she says.

Satoru nods, blushing a bit at admitting weakness but it wasn’t like he wanted to lie to her. While he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, he wasn’t going to admit he just woke up from the death of a past life. Even if he can’t remember everything about Chiyo-sama he wasn’t going to risk this information going back to his parents. But the warm feeling of attachment in his chest insists on letting her in a little. And Koro was inclined to agree with that feeling, noting how despite having to maintain a professional distance from him, she never was once anything but kind. 

She smiles a little and says “Ah. I see. I can see how that can unnerve you.”. She points to the mirror, encouraging him to look. “Do you recognise yourself now?”

He doesn’t. Not really. But he can see that this was a second chance. At what he isn’t certain. But he isn’t going to squander this new chance at life. His students wouldn’t want him to. 

He pulls back his shoulders and says with a confidence he doesn’t completely feel “I’m Satoru Gojo. I’m going to be a sorcerer.”

Koro doesn’t know why he says that. But he might as well get used to his new name. It wouldn’t be the first time he played a role. He just needs to understand what being Satoru Gojo means though. 

Chiyo seems happy at the answer, quietly gesturing to him to follow after her to the main dining room to eat. He naturally complies, making sure to note things as he goes along. He keeps track as they go through the house, making sure that at the very least he knows how to go back to his room. Having broken into many rooms and homes in his life, he had the full confidence to say that it mattered what was inside the home. And that you could tell a lot from how a house is decorated. The plain white walls, the traditionalist decor as well as vases that look like the type that would fetch pretty prices if they were stolen. This…This place felt like a museum. 

Satoru followed Chiyo over to the main dining room, and looked to see his parents already there. There they sat at the table, the table low to the ground and pillows to rest on, and they looked like a picture perfect family. His mother sat poised on  his father’s left, the man himself not sat on the head of the table but to the left of it. She had dark brown hair and equally dark green eyes. She wore a light blue kimono. His father wore a plain white one with a light blue ribbon in it. He can see where he inherited the white hair from, the white shock of hair on his head making the man’s red eyes more prominent. He sits down on the right side of the main head, remembering vaguely how he has a grandmother. A grandmother who is the clan head. He glances over to his mother, who seems to flinch at his gaze. He doesn’t know why. He isn’t doing anything more than looking. 

His father only gives a nod as food is served. Seems that they were waiting for him, or rather, waiting for him to appear. He speaks out loud, some slight surprise in their faces at being addressed “Hello.”

His father is the first to pull himself together “Satoru ... .I presume you know the reason why you are here with us?”

Satoru shakes his head, surprise making his eyes glow more as he asks “I thought you knew?”

Satoru remembers how he hardly sees either of his parents due to the both of them keeping their distance. But one glance at his mother and he can guess why, his technique is quite powerful and while his mother does seem to want a connection judging by how fervently she glances at him- as if trying to commit him to memory. But considering everything Koro can clearly see how anxious she is, not a great thing when it comes to raising a child who has a lot of power. 

A voice, stern and controlling, called out, silencing the three - “If we have time to chit chat, we have time to eat.”

The woman entered the room. She wore a white kimono with red highlights and patterns, giving Koro the distinct impression of blood in the snow. Her hair was in a braided bun, white and perfectly kept - " potentially a control freak then?" - and her eyes were a bright and vivid red. Her mere presence made a small headache occur between his eyes, a small light outlining her form- his Six Eyes then? He did have the understanding that this technique of his allows him to see cursed energy, among other things. 

After they had eaten, his grandmother spoke up and said “The boy is now 4. You know what that means.”

His mother speaks up “You seriously can’t expect this to be ok. He’s 4! Training him would be insane! I can stand tutoring him but training?!”

“You…want me to learn?” He looked towards his grandmother, feeling no warmth as he looked into her cold eyes.

She sniffed “Of course! You may have inherited the clan’s techniques but you are yet to reach godhood.”

“Godhood?” he scoffs, earning a glare from her. He feels a weight press down on him, his father shooting a glare at him. “Achieving that is impossible.”

Perhaps if he were still the same person he was as the Reaper, then maybe this wouldn’t seem too far-fetched for him. However, Koro wanted nothing more than to figure out what this new life awaited for him. He never had a chance for a normal life, growing from war orphan to assassin. In this life, while there is a lot to be desired, he wanted to experience it to the fullest. 

“Do you doubt me boy?” his grandmother hissed, curse energy pressing down on him, making him wince as the light inside grew brighter. But Satoru knew she was doing this to make him submit. Something he refused to do. Not even at his weakest has he bowed to someone else. He levels a flat glare at her, unfazed at her mediocre attempts of intimidation. 

She looks away, of course she makes it look natural as she turns to scold his father. She says “Seems impertinence is a weed we need plucking out.”

His father merely looks at him, but says nothing in defence. Seems like no help there. 

“Will I at least be able to go to class with other kids?” Satoru asks, feeling a longing for some company. As Koro, he never had one that he felt matched him, one who could keep up with his intelligence- one who would be able to survive such a cruel world. 

“No. We don’t need you with the common ramble.” his grandmother shoots back. 

If it weren’t for the fact that he was supposed to be a 4 year old, he would lecture on how this was unfair and how damaging it could be. He’s not sure whether he wants to be an orphan again, but he definitely knows he wants his grandmother gone. His father looked at him, a pinprick in his vision as Satoru felt his body freeze. His grandmother then smacked his head down on the table, causing a little gasp. He tried to move, but his Six Eyes told him that as long as his father kept looking at him, his body would remain frozen. 

“If you are thinking of trying to disobey, you would find that’s a rather poor idea, little god.” the mocking voice said.

His hair was grabbed at, then his head slammed down on the table once again. And again. And again. And again, till his nose started to bleed red.

“You see that little god? You bleed red. You are not as strong as you could be yet.”

His hair was gripped tightly, bringing back memories of being just as weak and helpless as he once was. Of hands grabbing at him, twisting his arm, pulling hair as he was forced to follow, to have his small body beaten till stars were shown through the clear blue sky, the only clouds smokey and ash ridden and - No!

 “How pathetic. You will learn how to use your Heavenly powers and you will join them Satoru. You will become a God in mortal flesh.” The smile in her gaze was enough to give nightmares, stretched till it almost reached her ears. There was a fervour in both her and father’s eyes. He didn’t need his Six Eyes to know that his mother was frozen in place, though whether that was due his father’s technique or something was unknown. It was a little hard to think. 

His head felt floaty, too hard to think, his young mind frazzled, tears sliding down. He can’t even be sure whether he was sad or not. He feels his head hit the table one more time, less to spite but more because nothing was holding his hair anymore. Shakes were running along his body. Images flicker in his mind. He can feel the bite of sand in his clothes. He can feel hands hold him down. He can hear the sounds of explosions. Sounds of woods. Shouts…Screaming…His vision fading to black…

Will he get another chance to live?

Hah.

No.

He would never be so lucky…

Chapter Text

Koro could hardly remember his first family…….Why would he? They were weak. Couldn’t do what was needed to do. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so used to sand in his clothes, to eating whatever was around and available, to seeing sand have red spots of dried blood. He likes to think that maybe if things have been different, then maybe he could have been loved. He can’t even remember the name they would have given him. Nothing to show he at least mattered to someone. 

But then again, he still likely would have shed it to become the Reaper anyway.

He remembers how they were told that there was a safe zone where they could receive help. He remembers the hope on their faces. How cruel it was. How cruel it was to be a lie. He woke up from the blast to realise that only he remained of his family. After that he learned not to let such feelings enter his heart. He left his heart behind in the ruins of a home he no longer knows. 

And yet…

And yet…

Agari seemed to help dig it out. Then his students taught him how to keep it working. God he missed them. One day he will see them. 

Satoru wakes up in his room, confused. He touches his nose, expecting it to be broken. But based on experiences from having his nose broken before he learned how to fight back, this wasn’t broken. 

“Huh? How?...” he said out loud before a voice called out

“Satoru- sama.” Chiyo’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“Chiyo?...” 

“Easy young master….Your mother used the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds but you need to rest a bit more…”

Ah. Right. His grandmother…so “kindly” corrected him for speaking out. Bitch. He rubs at his head. He frowns as he suddenly asks “Is that why Mother and Father married? Because of her technique?” 

Chiyo freezes. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugs “Just…wondered I guess. Was she the one screaming?”

Chiyo winces “Yes. She certainly made her opinion clear on the matter, Lady Gojo held.”

“And…father?” it felt like there was a gag around his throat, making it hard to get the words out. He wants to know. He doesn’t want to know. He…Satoru doesn't know what he wants.

“Your father… didn’t seem to have much of an opinion on the matter. He seemed…invested in what will help improve your skills quickest.” she said in stuttering lines. 

"So in other words. Unless I’m dead in the grave, Father doesn’t care." He thinks bitterly to himself. " At least I have a Mother who cares. Even if her hands are as tied as mine."

“Satoru- sama? Are you alright?” Chiyo asked, concerned. 

Satoru felt a large grin on his face, planning things in his mind. There was no way he was allowing this. He wanted to hurt- and since he no longer was limited by having to play nice- his students being left behind in another lifetime, there was nothing that said he couldn’t kill again. He had no one to be a good role model for, no limits of a ticking time bomb of a body, no enemies besides the ones he plans to slaughter-!

Wait…

“Koro- Sensei!”

I can’t do that anymore can I?

This new body is weak…

But above all else…

“I promise that if we meet again, next time I’ll raise you right.”

He would be…

He would be…

“I know you are better than this!”

Agari…

Karasuma.

Miss Irina…

His students…

He couldn’t give in to the same old habits can he? No. He must be willing to leave the Reaper behind. For whatever reason he has been given a new chance at life. Whether he deserves it or not is meaningless to speculate. He shouldn’t waste this new chance at life. Okay, yes he seems to have an abusive grandmother and a negligent father, but he will handle it. He has two women in this life who care for him. Chiyo and his mother will surely despise him for killing them. He is not an assassin in this life. He…He isn’t sure what he is yet, but he needs more time to plan. Besides, there might be more than meets the eye to this. 

The grin falls from his face, as he glances at Chiyo. Brown eyes look at him with concern, a hand raised as if to touch him. Wrinkles were clearly shown in the corners of her eyes as she studied his face. She was clearly scared, he can see how his presence unnerves him. “ Little God “huh. He thinks bitterly to himself. When he had the tentacles, as he was killing the people who gave him that, before…He certainly felt like it. Seems power falls into his lap one way or the other. And with it, a chain and shackle that prove him to be a puppet to fate’s whims. He shakes his head as he asks, keeping his voice soft “Are you ok? Sorry…”

Chiyo shakes her thoughts away, gently placing a hand on his arm, grounding him as she spoke “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you had to…”

“Is…Is she ok?” 

A silence enters the room, unwanted and yet heavy with its presence. 

“She…Your mother has a lot more strength than most are willing to give her credit for.” Chiyo eventually answered. Satoru frowns, but nods. She likely got punished for healing him. Got it. 

Night falls, and Chiyo puts him to bed, kind and patient as ever. Satoru learned that he will be having both lessons on his techniques and the Gojo clan in the morning. Not even given a day to rest, he notes. He thinks to himself on what to do. Oh, don’t get him wrong…He still intends on getting rid of his pesky family members, but he needs more information. That was always a good key to a successful assassination. Course, he always had succeeded on less before, but he was trying to do this the right way. If he can deliver judgement then he needs to know all the facts. After that…who knows. But the only person who knows most of the facts (most likely) would be his mother. 

He gets up and slips out of his bed, making his footsteps as light as possible. 

“What is an assassin’s greatest strength, Master?” the boy asked, his grey eyes looking up to the older teen. The two of them were walking around a market, in some forgotten town. The blue haired waited for the answer. The teen sighed, wondering for a moment. He shrugs as he says “Well…There are many answers to that. Typically you can figure out what type of assassin you are dealing with when you ask them the question…”

“Really?”

“Yep. Some praise an assassin’s planning skills. Others would say the tools of an assassin. Most would probably say strength, whether it’s strength of character to kill or not is kind of arbitrary. However I feel the best ones who answer this question would be “the ability to blend in” which is a good skill. But honestly…My opinion would be having the lightest feet around. One way to blow your hiding spot is to have a floorboard creak out on ya.”

"Nice and light…" Satoru reminds himself. Last thing he needed was to be caught out of bed. This smaller and unfamiliar body was pesky to work around, and at times made him long for his old body- human or not he didn’t care. But he had to remind himself that even if he gets caught, the clan can’t afford to get rid of him. He knows that much. He’s too valuable due to his power, so they’ll keep him alive. More than I can say for other situations I have been in before. He remarks to himself….Still he’ll like to avoid getting caught if only to avoid any unsavoury punishments waiting for this. He uses his Six Eyes to the best of his limited ability. Thankfully he got an idea of what Six Eyes was during the dinner, it allows him to see energy and understand the basics of a curse technique. Although he needed a better handle on that front. Getting blindsided by his father’s Midas gaze was not a fun experience. Thankfully finding his mother’s curse energy shouldn’t be too hard, since remnants of it still lingered on his skin. 

Ah. 

There she is. 

Aika Gojo was not sleeping. The bruises and lingering headache was a pain to deal with. Besides…She didn’t want to return to her nightmares, of hands on her, of curses plaguing her in the shape of humans she knew. The monsters aren’t curses who only deal with their nature….No. The real monster was the one wearing human skin. She sighed, glancing outside of the room she was locked in- her “husband” and that vexing woman suggested that since the marriage between the two were only convenient in nature, perhaps they would benefit from separate rooms. "More like the damned lot of them wanted an convenient excuse to punish me discreetly and a way for my “husband” to easily spend time with his whores" She thought with a bitter smirk.

Aika knew the only reason why she was allowed to escape the dreaded Zen’in clan, her, a poor servant girl- who spent her entire life within the Jujutsu world- and them- the rich but faltering Gojo clan was purely because of her ability to use the reverse curse technique. It wasn’t her main technique, but it was one she was forced to use the most when with the Zenins. She often had to heal the men in the group, suffering from grabbing hands, especially if they were drunk. Everyone who knew of the Jujutsu world knew full well that the Zen’in clan never grew out of the limiting misogynistic worldview of days past. She thought that maybe giving her skills up for the Gojo clan to use, when the younger heir of the main line glanced her way, would be enough to free herself from them. 

What was the saying? 

Out of the pan straight into flames?

They may not be the same, but they had made it clear there was only one use for her and one use alone. Reverse cursed technique was a valued skill, purely because it was incredibly rare for someone to master. One could reinforce themselves with cursed energy but even reinforcement falls under a blade or two. Curses have only gotten stronger ( Especially after Satoru-) and more resourceful. But to heal one’s wounds before the damage is too fatal? To help repair the damage inflicted, to breathe life back into lungs, to cheat death? Oh Aika can understand why the Jujutsu world does well in hiding the few families whose techniques are purely reverse technique alone, the power they have makes her but a cheap imitation. They truly could push the boundaries between life and death, the best Aika could do was ease the injuries, quicken the time it takes to heal. 

In her room, she glares at the wallpaper, the sigils preventing her from using her technique - keyed into her with her blood, a way to make sure her wretched husband could still use that Midas stare on her. A way for her mother in law to use her suffocating technique- some fucking variant of limitless that makes Aika choke on air stolen, and the hate of it stews. She absentmindedly wondered over what kind of curse would spawn from her if it could? A grade two? Maybe a grade one? Maybe even a special grade? 

She feels it rather sees it. While the seal wallpaper stops her from using her technique, she still can sense cursed energy. She feels the familar gaze of eyes on her. She smiles. She rushes to the window- barred because of course it was- and there he was. Her little Satoru. Spiked white hair and glowing blue eyes greet her, a curious tilt to his head. If she squints a little, she imagines how two other pairs of glowing blue eyes greet her. Her particular technique was only suppressed but not completely erased. She smiles, cooing softly “Hello Satoru…What are you doing out of bed sweetheart?   

“I got worried about you…Chiyo-sama told me you..stood up for me. That you healed me. I had to make sure you were ok…Why are there bars on your windows?!” he said, his voice quiet as he glanced around. She smiled, sticking a hand out to stroke her son’s soft hair. While she had never pictured what having a child was like, heavens thanks that she was lucky enough to have a kind soul for a child. 

“My little one ... .I'm ok, Mama is just…Just being put in time out. I’m ok.” she attempts to lie and soothes, sensing how her son is unused to the loving touch. But he soon melts into it, soaking it up. 

“M…” He starts, before switching to “I can tell you’re hurt. I smell blood.” 

A bitter smile graces her face, but she just sneaks another arm out of the window, cusping her baby’s cheek as she says “Mama is a little hurt…But I am ok. It’s not for you to worry about-”

“But it’s not FAIR !” he almost shouts, causing her to have to shush him as if he was an unruly baby, but he quickly settles. They sit in the dark, the fragile moonlight their only company before he starts again - “Why are you being punished? Why are they hurting you?” 

She sighs. 

“I wish I could say this doesn’t happen often…But I grew up in the Zenin Clan…And compared to here? They are…far worse. I would rather be here than there. But you shouldn’t have to worry about this Satoru…” She implores him, her dark green eyes locking with all 6 of his blue ones.
“I am the adult here. You are… You are a child …It shouldn’t be your responsibility to protect me.” She attempts to soothe again, not catching the flash of something dark in her child’s eyes. 

“But if I am to be a God, surely this…this is my problem?” 

“Satoru, listen to me. Becoming a god will not do you any good. You are my son. You have my blood in your veins, you bleed red.” She says, cusping his cheeks in her hands, noting how chubby they were. More than anything she wanted to rip the bars apart so she could hold her baby close to her. 

“Satoru, you are capable of so much . Do you understand? You have a great power within you. But you must use it responsibly, ok baby? But this power does not make you a God. It just makes you someone with a lot of power and a responsibility I wish I could take off your shoulders. But I can’t. So the best thing I can do is have you promise me that you never forget your roots, who you are, that you understand that the best thing about your powers is that you can protect so many people with it. Can you promise me, little one?”

“I promise…I promise I won’t forget” he says, the words burning his tongue.

Chapter Text

As he imagined, the next morning, tutoring was mind numbingly boring. His tutor was a stuffy old man whose voice would be perfect to help those with insomnia. As someone who had been a teacher in his past life, the sensei in him rebelled at this boring drivel he was given. He may have been a teacher for only one year, and for teens, but even he knows that when it comes to little kids, you need to entertain them! If he were a normal 4 year old he might start acting up. And the 4 year old in his brain was certainly tempted. But his nose still ached from where it had been introduced to the table rather rudely. 

And besides, he figures he could use the knowledge from the lessons to learn more about how this world worked, so far he only got the bare basics. 

He understands that this is a world where people with abilities were the minority, that sorcerers were a rare breed of people. When he was the Reaper, he certainly never heard of sorcerers and he figures that even the most self isolated of them all would still need an assassin or two from time to time. At the very least he would’ve heard a rumour or two. He had contacts back then whose whole job was to snoop and gather data for him, not that any of them saw his face- he was very careful to never let his face be caught, it was a plain face that blended in well after all no one thought twice about it.

So no, Koro never heard of Jujutsu sorcerers. 

Hence why he suffers through the boring lecture, half listening to it as he reads a textbook. It was an old family book that made him nervous to touch. But the little 4 year old seemed to lend Koro some courage for soon he became comfortable looking through his pages. He figures that as of right now, it would be best to simply just…play dumb. Pretend he hasn’t read updated versions of these school books, that he hadn’t marked down tests for students who likely don’t even exist here. That he doesn’t have an eidetic memory that never lets him forget what he reads. 

That was an interesting thing to discover!

Apparently some skills and traits passed over from his old life, which included the eidetic memory. Not that he was complaining, having his memories and knowing what his skills were will just make his life more easy. And right now he can use every hidden advantage he can get! 

Once he is given lunch, he is dragged from the school room he was stuck in - a bare bones room that only had a school desk and a blackboard in it, with a couple of bookshelves full of books in it. The servant who guides him isn’t Chiyo - sama but some other male servant. A burly man in a haori that was the same brown as the servants he saw. He had a particularly nasty grip. Probably was sent to make sure I didn’t run. He notes bitterly. 

One bruise gaining trip later and he stands in front of a white door. I’m going to seriously end up hating the colour once I’m old again. He remarks. He takes a breath, feeling a rare nervousness, as he flexes his hands before opening the door. 

He is greeted with a training room. 

The training room in question had sparse gym equipment. A treadmill in the corner. A couple of weights scattered here and there. A punching bag that had been set up. But the thing that caught Satoru’s attention was the large chalk circle in the centre of the room. One end was his father. Red eyes glare at him. 

“You’re late.” He says in a cold tone. 

"Bitch?! What schedule are we on?!" Was Koro-sensei’s thought. He is tempted to snark at the man just that, but figured it would be too revealing. But he glares back and states “Sorry if my eating was slowing us down.” 

So what if the words were sarcastic? He wasn’t going to be intimidated by a man who still obeys Mommy like he was a little kid.  

His father’s gaze cuts into him, freezing him. But he simply glares, before releasing Satoru. Satoru takes the hint and steps into the chalk circle. He glances around the room, noting servants surrounding the room, all clutching items. He frowns, confused. 

“So…What am I supposed to do father?” He asks, glancing at the older man. 

His father sits up, a cold look in his eyes. “You are to practise your Limitless technique. Do you know what that is?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Your Limitless technique goes hand in hand with your Six Eyes. Six Eyes allows you to see cursed energy at even the highest level, when fully mastered- you would be able to track a person just from their cursed energy residual, no matter how much time passes. It also means that you can easily break down a cursed technique in seconds, see infinity at its core and not go insane.” His father says, as if this is information to give to a 4 year old. “If your Six Eyes is your information spy, then consider Limitless your sword and shield. Limitless deals with making you untouchable, without Six Eyes, you wouldn’t be able to use it due to how Limitless deals with the infinite. If someone was to throw something at you…” 

Like on cue, a servant throws a hard ball into Satoru’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. 

“With Limitless you wouldn’t need to dodge that. Instead, it would seem as if the object had simply become frozen. This isn’t true, what Limitless does is slow an object down in a general field till it seems frozen. Limitless will coat you in infinity, shielding you and making you untouchable.” He smiles as he adds. “A God in the making.” 

Satoru frowns, taking it in. “So…The object is trying to move through infinite space but can’t?” 

“Exactly.” Despite the hint of praise, his father’s red eyes are cold and uncaring. “Now let’s begin. I want you to learn how to activate it. On a constant level. Begin.” 

Safe to say, Satoru walks away with bruises and things to think about. It’s only when he faces a mirror, does he realise something. His father’s eyes were as cold as his when he was the Reaper.  

"I have my father’s eyes." Seeing cold, blue eyes glow back at him.