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He doesn’t really mean to sift through Gojo-sensei’s memories. He kind of has to, in order to properly use Limitless, but he tries very hard to keep himself reserved to anything that doesn’t involve the operation of Gojo’s Technique.
Things poke through, though. It’s unavoidable. He sees Geto, he sees Gojo’s clan, he sees so much. It feels like a betrayal, even if he knows his Sensei would forgive him.
It feels like a waste when he doesn’t even manage to defeat Sukuna. No one blames him, of course, but it still feels like he’s messed up.
Which is not to mention how awful he felt using Gojo’s body in the first place. Used from birth to death, never getting a break.
Gojo-sensei’s limbs are long. Yuta can’t help but fixate on this, for some reason. Of course, he knows that they would be, because Gojo is so much taller than most people, but for some reason it sticks to him. His arms are so long and gangly, hard to manage and clumsy whenever Yuta tries to use them. Everything about Gojo is so lanky.
And God, his eyes. How does he do it? Running around with eyes that see everything all the time. They're so sensitive all the damn time. He’d had a migraine from the moment he swapped into Gojo-sensei’s body, and it only dissipated when he’d managed to swap back.
Everything about him seems so… inhuman.
He supposes that’s why so many people look at him the way they do. It’s like they can sense them, all the ways that make him different. They’re all so very visible, loud and ‘in your face’, just like Gojo himself. Yuta knows now that he was just defending himself, trying to protect from hurt. He also knows it never really worked.
Yuta knows as well as anyone that you don’t just get used to being alone. It’s not something you move on from easily, or easily learn to live with. It is, however, something that makes root under your skin and makes you believe things that are not true.
Yuta had people to teach him that, no, he isn’t unlovable, his Sensei included. Gojo did, once. But he hasn’t since that person left him all alone, reinforcing everything awful Gojo-sensei believed about himself.
Taking his place is easier than it should be. The reading of Gojo’s will is a quiet, but stupidly public affair. Yuta knows it would have disgusted Gojo, someone who was very reserved, whether he acted like it or not, to see his wishes laid bare to people he loathed. People that made him feel like he wasn’t even a person.
Gojo leaves most of his things to Megumi and Tsumiki, and Yuta notices tears in Megumi’s eyes at that. Their apartment, almost everything in it, and heaps of money go to Megumi. Much of Gojo’s designer wardrobe is split between Yuta, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, and Hakari, in case they want it. Then, seemingly the rest of Gojo’s independent fortune is split between all of his current students. The amount of money is truly absurd.
Yuta is named head of the Gojo clan. Technically, it’s a temporary arrangement, but no one was lined up to replace him, so Yuta now has control of the entire clan.
It feels a lot like Yuta is being made to replace his Sensei. He’s now The Strongest, even if Megumi and Yuji have the potential to rival him, and he’s been placed in charge of Gojo’s clan, left to assume the fortune it possesses.
It’s uncomfortable. It feels like he’s wearing someone else’s skin, sometimes. He distances himself from the school because of it. He doesn’t want to take any more of his sensei’s place.
The missions they send him on are grueling and exhausting, never ending. Regardless of Gojo getting rid of the Higher Ups, Curses still need to be exorcised, and they’re the only ones able to do it. Yuta especially, as he’s one of two Special Grades left at the moment. Megumi and Yuji will probably move up soon, but as it stands they’re the only two.
Yuta returns home with a weight on his shoulders every night now. Slouched, tired, weary, he walks into his little apartment. He refuses to touch the Gojo clan’s money, even if it would allow him to get a bigger house, and he wants to save as much of the money Gojo-sensei left him, so he’s got this little apartment with Maki and Toge, in one of the outer corners of Tokyo.
He closes the door tonight and simply leans against it for a moment. He can’t wait to get to bed. Today’s missions, though simple, were many in number. He’s been on his feet for nearly twelve hours straight, and his bottomless cursed energy is beginning to feel like it’s emptying. The lights are all out, but he can hear the TV in the other room.
He pokes his head in, spying Toge and Maki on the couch, disinterestedly watching the screen. They probably got home not too long ago.
“Hi,” Yuta says, dropping bonelessly into the space between them.
“Kelp,” says Toge, moving his blanket so it rests half on top of Yuta. Maki’s arm slings around his shoulder as she scoots closer.
He’s grateful for them, more than anything in the world. They ground him, they keep him here. They don’t let him stray too far, get too lost.
Gojo-sensei had that, once, briefly. A reprieve from the crushing expectations of his clan, of Jujutsu society. Someone who looked at him and saw a person, rather than a machine, a tool, a weapon. Something to be loved and appreciated rather than used until he died.
He had that once, a long, long time ago. Yuta thinks how unfair it is that Gojo-sensei was forced to take away his comfort, to kill his friend, or whatever more Geto was.
Yuta leans his head on Maki’s and simply basks in their presence.
He has his friends, and they keep him human.