Chapter Text
Bright lights blinded his eyes, forcing them shut again. After a hesitant second, he opened them again, scanning his surroundings.
The lights came from a window, the shutters open to let the sun in. The room was otherwise pretty sparse, with only a few articles of clothing lying neatly on the back of a desk chair.
He sat straight up, pushing his hair back. He stared at his hands in shock. Instead of the calloused palms he was used to, he was met with small, child-like hands.
He leapt up from the bed he was previously lying on, blood rushing in his ears. He stumbled to the floor-length mirror on the other side of the room and froze at what he saw.
Chubby cheeks with hints of baby fat. Unkempt, spiky black hair sticking up in all directions. Wide, dark blue eyes.
He recognized what he was looking at but didn’t want to believe it.
No way.
The last thing Megumi Fushiguro remembered was seeing his father split in two.
After that, it was a world of darkness. Of sinking into the shadows, left to be forgotten and atone for his sins.
He didn’t expect to wake up…like this.
He kept prodding his face, pinching various parts like he was trying to convince himself that this was all a fever dream. That the entirety of Shinjuku was. That he would wake up to the smiling faces of Satoru, Yuji, and Nobara, who would be laughing about something stupid.
But slowly, it dawned on him that this was real. Somehow.
Somehow, he was…how old was he?
“Megs!” a young voice called. He startled at the noise, a wave of tears unexpectedly threatening to emerge. He never thought that he would hear her voice again.
He wiped his eyes desperately, hoping that they looked somewhat passable. “What?” he called back, surprised at how high-pitched his voice sounded.
“We’re gonna be late for school! C’mon, get ready and have something to eat!” He could hear her footsteps fading.
This is real. Everything is real.
Instinctively, Megumi tried to let his shadow swallow him up to escape the pain, but nothing happened. He looked around in confusion, before suddenly remembering that he was a child who still hadn’t learned to control his cursed energy.
He grabbed the school uniform hanging off his chair and dressed quickly, slipping from his bedroom in less than five minutes. He took a couple of steps toward the kitchen…and there she was.
Tsumiki was humming as she cooked breakfast. Her long brown hair swished with every move she made, swinging from her neat ponytail.
She turned around, smiling at him warmly. “Good morning, Megs. How did you sleep?”
The words slipped from his tongue. “Good, thanks.”
She looked taken aback. He cursed himself internally for his mistake, remembering that he was supposed to act like a grumpy, uncultured brat. He was just…still in shock to see her here. Actually here. Without her blood staining his hands.
“What put you in such a good mood?” she asked, scraping some eggs onto a plate and setting it in front of him. He devoured them like they were running away. “Nothing,” he mumbled around a mouthful of egg.
“Erm…okay,” she said. She set aside a noticeably smaller portion for herself, but when she wasn’t looking, Megumi scraped some of his own onto her plate. She didn’t notice.
They sat quietly at the table, finishing their breakfast. Megumi took another look at his surroundings. He hadn’t been in this place for a very long time.
Holey, sagging walls. Hairline cracks running through every surface. Bent shutters that were barely hanging on.
He stole a glance at the calendar that hung on their barely working fridge, the only spot of color in this drab excuse for an apartment. He read the current date…and his eyes widened.
This was the day.
Today was the day that he met Satoru Gojo for the first time.
For a second, relief flooded his chest until he shoved it down. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. He might somehow have gone back in time or been reincarnated, but that doesn’t mean everything will play out the same way.
Unfortunately, he just had to wait and see.
He remembered vividly that Satoru had ambushed him after school as he was walking home. Tsumiki hadn’t been walking with him because she had decided to run some errands right after school and trusted Megumi to walk by himself.
Throughout the school day, he could hardly sit still. His leg kept bouncing, and sweat beaded on his neck as a combination of nervousness and hope filled his heart.
If Satoru really was coming…how would he react to seeing his father, alive and well? Should he tell Satoru that he knows the future? That Megumi himself will kill him —
He shook his head to clear the unwanted thoughts. Not now.
School couldn’t have dragged on any slower. He sat through redundant math and history lessons, things he already knew (perks of the situation he’s in). He barely touched his lunch, something similar to queasiness whirling in his stomach.
Finally, the bell rang. He was one of the first ones out the door, until he remembered that when this meeting had happened the first time, he had been moseying along. According to random sci-fi movies, shouldn’t he be trying to replicate the original timeline as much as possible to avoid anything dangerous?
Probably. But he was willing to bet that this had never happened before.
After what felt like hours, he was in that same spot. No Satoru. He kept walking, chest heaving.
“Megumi Fushiguro?”
Everything froze. He could’ve sworn that his heart stopped for a second as well. Finally, after a few seconds of paralysis, he slowly turned around.
There he was.
Satoru Gojo stood right in front of him, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. He was sporting his blackout glasses and was in a Jujutsu High uniform, indicating his status as a high school student.
Megumi couldn’t breathe.
It was him. His father. Alive and well. Standing in front of him, grinning like he didn’t know his fate. Because he didn’t.
He forced himself to unfreeze and wipe any trace of emotion from his face, monotoning, “What’s it to you?”
“This one’s got an attitude, it seems,” Satoru mused, talking to seemingly no one. He knelt in front of Megumi. “I’m Satoru Gojo. Your father sent me to you.”
Right. Toji Fushiguro. His biological father had abandoned him and Tsumiki a year ago. As far as he was concerned, his real father was standing in front of him.
Satoru blabbed on and on about the Zen’in Clan, how he was going to be sold, bla bla bla…until he said something that piqued Megumi’s interest.
“So listen, about your dad…”
This was it. Last time, he had refused to hear Satoru. Now…he could learn the truth about what happened to Toji. If he really ran away with Tsumiki’s mother to another country or something (that was a theory that had been speculated between Megumi and Tsumiki).
“He was working for a shady group and…might have done some bad stuff. I get the sense that you’re unusually mature for your age—” (Megumi huffed under his breath, Satoru had no idea) “—so I think I can tell you this part. I might’ve…” he made an explosion gesture with his hands, “killed him by turning him into the Apple logo. Sorry, kid.”
Well. There it was. The truth. Spewing from Satoru’s lips like he was casually talking about the weather.
And weirdly, he didn’t feel any different. He imagined that he could’ve refused to hear the truth again and nothing would’ve changed. He really just didn’t care.
But he cared that Satoru told him.
Megumi bent his head. “Thanks for telling me, Gojo-sensei.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Satoru exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defense (Megumi nearly smacked himself on the head for his slip-up). “I’m not a teacher, bud! Do I really look that old to you?”
Megumi rolled his eyes. Satoru sighed.
“Prickly. Anyways! I really sense a lot of potential in you, kid. I think you would be a great asset as a sorcerer! Of course, that would include a lot of vigorous training —”
“I’ll do it.”
Satoru cocked his head to the side, bright blue eyes peeking up over his shades. “Huh?”
Megumi gripped his backpack straps tightly. “I’ll do it. I’ll train under you.”
Satoru clapped. “Fantastic!”
“But…” Megumi interrupted. “Only if you agree to help Tsumiki and me move out of our dump of an apartment. And to promise that you’ll protect her at all costs.”
Satoru, to his credit, didn’t look taken aback by the requests coming from the young child. “Of course! Your wish is my command, Megumi-kun.”
The first time, he had scoffed at the term of endearment and snapped at Satoru. This time around, he said nothing.
“C’mon, let me walk you home,” Satoru volunteered, taking Megumi’s backpack despite his protests and shouldering it.
As they walked towards his apartment and Satoru chattered on and on, two thoughts came to Megumi.
The first was that he would begin training sooner. He would work harder. Faster.
The second was that he had been given this second chance, and he was going to use it to prevent as many casualties as possible.
Satoru and Tsumuki wouldn’t die this time. Not if he could help it.