Chapter Text
Prologue
1993
By the time Tomoe became aware of her surroundings as a baby, the first thing she felt was warmth. Not just the physical kind, though there was plenty of that, but something deeper and steadier. The family she had been reincarnated into made her feel warm, fuzzy and oddly at peace.
Her mother, Fuyumi, was kind and gentle, her voice soft and patient no matter the hour. There was quiet strength in her posture and in the way she carried herself, as though she had endured more than she ever spoke about. Yet when she held Tomoe, that strength melted into tenderness. Her father, Masamichi, was what one would call a gentle giant. Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence filled a room, but his large hands were always careful when lifting her, supporting her head with almost comical seriousness. His deep voice would lower instinctively when he spoke to her, as though afraid to startle something fragile. Well, she’s definitely a fragile baby.
Tomoe, who had once navigated war councils and political traps, found herself disarmed by something as simple as domestic affection. And she loves it so much.
When she turned four, however, she finally met her Uncle and her Mom’s brother.
She saw him standing near the entrance of their home, hands in his pockets, posture loose but alert. There was something familiar about him, something that tugged at the back of her mind like a half-remembered page from a manga she had once read. His name was Toji Zenin, just like her mother’s maiden name.
It was then that her mother explained more of the past.
Fuyumi had once been a member of the Zenin clan. She left after marrying Masamichi, choosing to walk away from the elders, from the suffocating patriarchy, and from the expectations placed upon her simply because she was a woman. “They believe strength belongs to men,” Fuyumi had said quietly one evening. “And that women only exist to serve the men."
The night before Toji’s visit, her mother had spoken more openly than usual. The house had been quiet, the lights dim. Tomoe had pretended to be absorbed in her toys while listening carefully.
“I wanted to leave with my brother,” Fuyumi confessed, her voice strained despite her calm expression. “I begged them to let him come with me.”
Her hands tightened in her lap.
“They hate him for having no cursed energy. They treat him like he’s worthless, yet they wouldn’t allow me to take him. They said he belonged to the clan.”
There was bitterness there, old and unresolved.
“I hated them from that moment,” she continued softly. “And I hate that I left Toji in that clan.”
Now, standing in front of her uncle for the first time, Tomoe studied him closely. Toji had no visible cursed energy, none of the controlled aura she sensed from her father or other sorcerers. Yet the air around him felt dangerous, like a drawn blade hidden beneath casual indifference. His eyes were sharp, assessing everything in the room with lazy precision. And then she met his eyes, she saw Toji's eyes widened and his lips smiled.
And slowly, the realization settled over her.
Zenin. No cursed energy. A man hated by his own clan.
This was not just her uncle.
This was Toji.
The future Sorcerer Killer.
This was someone who she once knew in the manga she read when she had a free time. The realization of being reincarnated in Jujutsu Kaisen made Tomoe, a four year old girl faint.
“Tomoe!”
Wait, Toji doesn't have a sister right?