Chapter Text
In the split second Choso had made the decision to save his brother, he had accepted that it would result in his own death. He knew that he would not survive the full brunt of the Sukuna’s attack, but he’d make damn sure his little brother would. He made peace with that knowledge, and in his heart of hearts, he was happy he was able to be of use to Yuji. His brother would surpass him, as was his right as a younger brother, and he would succeed where Choso could not.
In those final moments, he was proud.
That pride, unfortunately, didn’t negate the pain of being completely incinerated by the King of Curses. For all that it was a nearly immediate death, the pain of his skin turning to a crisp, his eyes boiling in his skull, and the utter suffocation of the weight of that undodgeable attack bearing down on him from all angles, still made his very soul shiver.
It was fine, though. It was his punishment and his redemption for failing to protect - failing to save - Eso and Kechizu. He was the older brother. It was his job to protect, to pave the way for the younger brothers, even if it meant his own death.
Choso’s only regret was the hurt he would cause Yuji with his passing, but he knew his brother would ultimately understand the choice in the end. He was their only chance at winning this battle. He had to live. Choso wanted him to live and live happily, the way he should have if none of this tragedy had occurred.
And maybe he was a little disappointed that he couldn’t join his brother in that beautiful future. It was fine. He could only accept what was given to him. It was more than he ever expected after all of those years sealed away in the dark.
Needless to say, given the nature of his birth, his failures in his admittedly short time incarnated in a human form, and his acceptance of his death…he had not expected to blink into existence in the middle of a busy street.
“Huh.”
People didn’t react to his appearance other than giving him an odd look as he continued to stand there, blocking the usual commute.
For a long time, all he could do was stare at the world around him.
The sun was bright and high in the sky. It reflected off tall buildings. The city around him was full of conversation, and the loud bustle of hundreds of people moving about their day-to-day business. There was no panic. No fear. No destruction. The light turned green. There was a honk. Choso moved to the sidewalk in a daze.
It was strange.
He hadn’t had much time at all to really experience life since his incarnation. His brothers and him had been given bodies by Mahito, then sent to what was ultimately their own slaughter by their creator wearing a different face. He had seen a little bit of the Tokyo area as the preparation to trap Satoru Gojo had been made, but afterwards things had mostly gone to hell.
Even so, he was fairly certain this was Tokyo. Maybe even Shinjuku specifically, though…without all of the destruction and death. Which ironically made it difficult for him to discern his exact location.
It also begs the question…what exactly happened?
Taking stock of himself, he found that he seemed to be in good condition. The injuries he sustained during that final showdown were non-existent, and his clothing remained untouched. He seemed to be in the same condition as when he was first incarnated.
Untouched. Healthy. Strong.
It was, by all accounts, a miracle. Except miracles didn’t happen in this world.
Not without a cost.
And said cost was obvious once he looked for it. The connecting threads of blood that he had always kept close to his heart were snapped and fading away. His brothers…his brothers were fading away. He tried reaching out again, thinking perhaps he had made a mistake, but then the pain filtered down, and he could feel their lives fade away.
It was Eso and Kechizu again, but worse…so much worse. It hurt. It hurt worse than any injury. Worse than Sakuna’s Divine Flames. That same burning pain that brought tears to his eyes and pressed a heavy weight of shame and failure onto his heart. Choso clutched at his chest and choked on a sob.
His brothers. Of course, his brothers would try to save him. The fools. The absolute fools. That wasn’t their job. He never expected nor wanted them to…
“Are you ok?” A woman peers down at him, where he had fallen abruptly to his knees with the weight of this knowledge, a child on her hip and a worried expression on her face.
Right, he was in the middle of a city. His understanding of the modern world and social cues was a bit spotty, but he was undoubtedly causing a scene. He didn't want... no, he couldn't handle being perceived at the moment. So, he picked himself up and walked away without a word.
Choso didn’t think he was capable of words. Not with the weight of his brother's deaths, a death they must have accepted just as he had when he shielded Yuji, crushing his very soul. All he could do was find himself an empty corner of an alley. It was dirty and smelled of things he didn’t really want to put a name to, but it was quiet enough, and there was no one to witness his breakdown.
For a long, long moment, he curled himself as tightly as he possibly could in this, digging fingers into the meat of his arms and relishing the pain his nails wrought. It was what he deserved for failing so horribly that his brother felt the need to step in. He dragged his hands through his hair, pulling and tugging and tearing strands from his scalp until his head was tender and raw, until his hair fell loosely around his face, sticky to his wet cheeks as he sobbed.
Choso was the older brother. The eldest. They shouldn’t have had to make such a choice.
He choked on another sob.
Choso hadn’t felt like such a fraud of an older brother since his realization that Yuji was his youngest brother, right after he nearly killed the boy.
Yuji…
He tugged on his blood connections, pushing aside the empty feeling those snapped threads left behind in his heart, and found it. It was so very faint and small. Like the almost imperceptible flutter of a moth's wings if you cupped it gently in your hand. Alive. Alive.
Choso knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that their brothers had given not just him, but their youngest, a chance. He was hurting, a bone-deep, soul-shaking hurt at the sacrifice his brothers must have made, but how could he ignore their obvious mission? He couldn’t wallow here. No matter how much he wanted to lie down and sleep, and sleep, and sleep until the world felt right again, he couldn’t.
He had a duty.
So, he picked himself up, tried to make himself a little more presentable, and stepped out of the alley into the sunlight once more.
He would break down later. Once, he found his littlest brother. Once he confirmed that Yuji was safe. Then he would sit down, curl up, and mourn in the way his heart was demanding with every heavy beat.
Of course, finding said brother presented its own problems.
While he could technically be considered about a hundred and fifty years old, truthfully, he hadn’t truly lived until he had been incarnated. And even then, it could be argued that he hadn’t had the chance to live authentically. He had heeded Yuki’s advice and had chosen to live as a human rather than a curse, but what did that truly mean?
Choso hadn’t really had a chance to find out. It wasn't something he really dwelled on too much in the time leading up to that final battle with the King of Curses. It wasn’t like he really had the time to. There were so many other things happening around him. So many fights. So much death. There wasn’t much time to truly ruminate on the world, on himself, and what it meant to live.
However, now he couldn’t help but be reminded of his little time in this world when faced with everything he didn’t know.
Choso had a bit of common sense, of course, from the body Mahito had incarnated him in, so the sight of things like cars or the flashing of street lights, or the giant TV, or the sudden bursts of music from the devices everyone seemed to hold didn’t startle him. He mostly knew the names of things if he thought for a moment. Could mostly read modern kanji. Could mostly navigate the world.
But mostly didn’t really cover everything, and the modern world, as it turned out, was incredibly complicated.
The month-long training and preparation for the battle with Sakuna was one of stress and worry for his younger brother, but it was also filled with little moments wherein references were made that he didn’t understand, and laughter was had over his confusion. He had been sat down to watch a few of the - according to his brother - absolutely necessary movies everyone watched and had been forced to listen to a variety of music and look at what his brother called…memes?
In that small reprieve, no one really thought to teach him how transportation worked.
This unfortunate oversight left him staring at the sprawling map of train routes with a growing sense of dread. There was a flashing sign with names and different colored lines, and crowds of people kept pouring into the station proper, before another wave would appear out of it in a never-ending sea of movement.
Yuji had said that he mostly grew up in Sendai.
Sendai was not on this map. Because…he racked his brain…because this map was for the train system around Tokyo. And Sendai was…was a different city. He would need a different type of train…? A train that was bullet-like? No, a bullet train. That sounded right.
Of course, taking any sort of train, bullet, or otherwise, would cost money…which he didn’t have.
He tugged on the faint connection between himself and his last remaining brother, like a child trying to soothe themselves by holding onto a toy. He could….walk?
It wouldn’t be ideal. By the lack of cursed energy in his connection to Yuji, he had surmised that he was in the past before Yuji had eaten his first finger, but he wasn’t exactly sure how far back that was. He hadn’t actually gotten the full story on why exactly his brother ended up eating one of Sukuna’s fingers, but he knew his brother hadn’t been involved in the world of sorcery for very long before things started going to hell. While Choso was making his way to him, would his brother get into the conflict that led to him becoming the vessel of Sakuna, or would he take things into his own hands now that he was in the past and ingest the finger early? Would he be taken away, off to Jujutsu High, while Choso was trekking along? He could speed up his journey with cursed energy, but then would that draw the sorcerer's eye to his current existence?
Would it be better to stay in the Tokyo area? Could he even manage it without drawing unwanted attention? It was teaming with sorcerers, and he knew the only reason he had been grudgingly welcomed into the fold was due to the circumstances of the moment and the fact that their own were dropping like flies in the face of Kenjaku’s plans. Did they even know his wayward, disjusting, awful creator was alive? Likely not. And those that did were likely working for him.
There were so many unknowns.
How long had he actually lived? A few months? Maybe half a year at most? With all the schemes, and the fights, and the deaths….could he even count that time as living? Now he was presented with an opportunity via the sacrifice of his brothers, and he was frozen…he didn’t know what to do.
It hurt to think about. His hands curled into tight fists, nails digging into the meat of his palms.
He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know…
“Hey, son, you alright?” Choso didn’t react initially to the words; most of the people coming and going through the station building had given him a wide berth, until a hand landed on his arm. His cursed energy rose, blood tingling in his veins….but as he turned, he found the one who touched him was just a regular human. Choso slowly dispersed the needle-thin line of blood that had been mere centimeters from the man's eye.
He was an older man, with wrinkles lining his face and his hair thinning and grey. He was the owner of a restaurant in the building, and had seen Choso standing there for the better part of half an hour, and finally decided to reach out and see if he was alright. He had no idea about curses, or sorcerers, or why he should really be more wary of Choso.
Not that Choso had any intention of hurting him, aside from his initial startled reaction.
His name was Shinji Kusumoto.
Choso wasn’t quite sure what kind of impression he gave, but it was apparently pitiful enough to be ushered back to the man's restaurant and set up in an open seat with some food. When he tried to tell him he didn’t have any money, he was waved away and told not to worry about it.
“You an actor then?” Kusumoto nodded towards his clothes, and it took Choso a moment to realize that his attire definitely stood out from the less layered, more modern clothing of the people around him. He hadn’t much cared before this moment. The clothes were comfortable enough, and Kenjaku and his associates hadn’t really given them much in the way of choices.
“No…” He said slowly and wondered if it was a mistake. He wasn’t sure what other, safer explanation there was outside of acting.
It didn’t matter, apparently, because Kusumoto just shrugged and went back to preparing an order for a waiting customer. Choso went back to eating his own, relishing the warmth and wishing he could share it with his brother. Yuji had mentioned offhand that he wanted to show Choso his favorite restaurants when it was all over. When they had won. When Sukuna was defeated.
He had said it with a distant look in his eye, like he knew…he knew things wouldn’t work out the way he hoped. He still tried, though, to remain optimistic - to keep that smile- because that’s who Yuji was. He always tried.
His story ended up coming out in small bursts, cautious of the audience - making sure to sanitize the more impossible things for someone who was ignorant of the world of curses and sorcerers.
Choso was the oldest of ten. His mother was dead - long gone, and his father was an evil, disgusting piece of shit. He was alone aside from his youngest brother, for whom he was trying to figure out how to get to, but had no true way aside from his own two feet. He had thought for a moment that he said too much when Kusumoto disappeared into the back room out of his sight after a moment of staring at him. Choso looked down at his now-empty bowl and wondered at the line between believability and truth.
Then he found himself holding onto a detailed list of instructions for which trains to take, an envelope of money, which he was assured was more than enough for the tickets he’d need, and a to-go bag of more food. He was pointed in the direction of a ticket station and given a solid pat on the back with the reassurance that he’ll make it through this.
He still wasn’t sure what kind of impression he had given the man, but with Yuji’s current fate still potentially in the air, all he could do was accept the generosity with a confused bow. Choso stumbled his way through the stations, carefully following the instructions until he seemingly made it to what he could only assume was the bullet train with its four-hour travel time to Sendai. He settled into an empty seat and pressed his face to the cool glass to watch as the scenery flew past.
There was a strange warmth in his chest.
One that hadn’t been there while he had been spiraling in his thoughts about how he would manage to make it to his brother with any urgency, but now he was officially on the way, and he couldn’t help the small bubble of hope that was starting to form in his chest.
He hated, hated, that his brothers sacrificed themselves for him, but their decision had opened up some doors he had thought lost amidst the destruction and death of the future. Given more time, Choso was sure that he and Yuji would be able to prevent the tragedies from occurring. Maybe even this unexpected trip to the past would allow his brother the choice of whether to join the sorcerer world or not, instead of being forced into it blindly with the consumption of Sakuna’s finger. They could be happy. Choso could learn to be human. Learn to truly live.
It was quite a fanciful dream.
It carried him off the train and onto the streets of Sendai. He weaved through the crowds of the metropolitan area, allowing his connection with Yuji to pull him along, street after street. With each step, worried anticipation and hope warred with each other in his chest.
He found himself standing outside a small neighborhood park as the sun hung low in the sky.
It was a beautiful, fantastic dream…
And more often than not, he was finding in his short time in this world, those types of dreams burst at the smallest tap with reality.
Choso stared down at the child in front of him.
The thing was…he had been expecting his youngest brother to have the same knowledge of the future as him. He had pictured his brother as he had last left him. Perhaps a little less scarred, physically and emotionally, but mostly the same as when he first met him. The thing was…for all the possible evidence he could have noticed…he hadn’t really thought to ask for the date. He probably could have asked Kusumoto or any of the many people he had been traveling with on the various trains he had to take to get here, but he had been too caught up in his own worries about reaching his brother and his mild existential crisis over what it meant to be human now that there wasn’t a pressing threat to all of humanity taking up the majority of his attention.
“What?” Yuji asked as he stared up at Choso, blinking in that same innocent way he had as a teen…just much smaller.
Choso's repeated. “I’m your older brother.”
It was the only truth he knew in this new, uncertain timeline.
“Huh.” Yuji didn’t seem particularly scared or surprised to have a stranger declaring his blood relation at some random intersection in this quiet neighborhood. Even as a child, it seemed his ability to compartmentalize and accept truths was unparalleled.
“So, how old are you?”
“Five!”
“I see.” Perhaps the dream wasn’t out of reach. It was just - it just needed a bit of adjustment.
Yuji’s smile feels like sunshine, and his trust is a balm to Choso’s frazzled nerves. He trusts his words implicitly, and Choso would feel proud except there was also a lingering bit of worry as well. Was Yuji sensing their blood relation the same way Choso did? Or would he believe any stranger on the street? He shoved that to the side; however, when he remembered one quiet evening during their preparation and training that his brother had mentioned his grandfather, and suddenly he was worried for an entirely different reason.
Choso understood logically that he had three parents. A mother and two fathers, one of whom was a cursed spirit, while the other was Noritoshi Kamo, but these were relationships that he only knew by name alone. Like reading one's genealogy in a book. His connection with his brothers, on the other han,d was deeper than that. Their connection with one another was what made the time they were sealed almost bearable. It was the one thing he could hold onto. The fact that he wasn’t alone.
He didn’t…know any other familial relationship. He didn’t know how they worked or how he’d fit in such a situation as this.
Could he even? Fit in? Was it possible, or was this another thing out of his reach simply due to the nature of his creation?
Yuji was his brother, and Choso adored him. He wanted Yuji to be loved and happy. He had understood that part of that happiness undoubtedly included other people and had accepted that as they met more and more of Yuji’s friends and companions. And even though the man had long passed by the time Choso had come into Yuji’s life, he knew his brother loved his grandfather too, but his grandfather was a human, and he might not accept Choso.
Truthfully, Choso had never truly borne any ill will or hatred towards humans. His initial alignment had more to do with the knowledge that his brothers would not be accepted as they were and a vague sense of gratefulness for the ones who managed to free them from their prison - even if they only managed to get the three of them and not all of his brothers.
He neither disliked nor felt much connection with the humans Kenjaku used as bait and shields.
They were merely pawns there to help in the plan to seal Satoru Gojo. Choso hadn’t thought much of using them as such to keep the man distracted and on his toes. He didn’t even remember the people's faces or even how many had been caught in his attacks.
After realizing that Yuji was his brother, his main focus was still on his brother even as he switched sides in the conflict itself. It was only after his conversation with Yuki and her subsequent sacrifice that he truly considered his place in the world as a human. He had started to consider what his future could hold if they managed to win. Now that he was seemingly thrown into the past, what could that future hold? The threat of Kenjaku, of Sukuna, still existed, but depending on how far back he was…their destructive plan to upend society as a whole could be better fought against, if not prevented completely. So, where did that leave him? Without the looming threat hanging over everyone’s head, would he even be accepted as he was? Yuji’s parentage was a secret at this point in time. Would Choso claiming brotherhood so early end up hurting the boy’s reputation among his feelings - or future fellow- sorcerers? Would it ruin Yuji’s chances at making those friends he so adored?
Just as Choso was considering that perhaps being a silent guardian from afar was a better choice in this lifetime, Yuji had pulled him into a house and towards the kitchen, where the smell of food wafted out appetizingly.
“Grandpa! Look, I met my brother on the way home from the park!” His brother cried happily, and Choso wanted to cry at such an innocent declaration of brotherhood, but his eye was instead caught on the rather large knife the old man had pulled from a block as soon as he caught sight of Choso with his grandson.
He was human, without a trace of curse energy, and yet, strangely enough, Choso found himself a bit cowed by the man’s presence. There was a vaguely familiar menace to the man’s gaze, to his stance, as he pointed that knife directly at his heart. Choso lifted his hand - the one still not held tightly by his brother - in front of him and took a few steps back, trying to make himself look as unthreatening as he could given the height difference between them.
Yuji was his brother, and his brother loved this man as his grandfather. Choso could only try to express the truth to the best of his ability and hope he was not turned away. “It is true. Yuji is my youngest brother. I have traveled far to find him.”
“I know my son did not have another child. Much less one before my grandson. So the only way that could possibly be true is...” The man’s scowl pulled at his wrinkles, twisting his face into one of anger and disgust. “Yuji! Step away from him, now!”
For the first time since Choso had encountered him, dribbling his little toy ball without a care in the world, Yuji seemed to realize that maybe the stranger he so easily accepted wasn’t all that he appeared. It must have been a shock. His senses - as muted as they were without curse energy - must have been telling him to trust Choso as his brother, but his grandfather, who had raised him and cared for him in place of his parents, was telling him otherwise.
Choso felt his eyes soften at the conflicted look.
He allowed his hand to slip from Yuji’s tight grip. “It’s alright, Yuji. Why don’t you go play upstairs while your grandfather and I talk?”
The boy stepped away slowly, eyes bouncing back and forth between them before finally shuffling out of the room.
“So then. She took my son from me, and now you’ve come to take my grandson.” Yuji’s grandfather snarled, eyes flashing and hand still wrapped tightly around that kitchen knife.
Choso blinked. Truthfully, he hadn't fully thought through how exactly Yuji was related to him aside from that bone-deep knowledge that he was Choso’s younger brother. Now that he did, however, it made sense that Yuji’s creation was different from the rest of his brothers. More natural, perhaps.
“Yuji and I indeed share that…parent, but I swear to you that there is no love lost between that person and me. I would sooner end my own life than bring harm to my brother. I just wanted…” He hesitated and felt his shoulders slump, just a little bit. Those fanciful dreams of learning how to live as a human with his brother by his side dispersed, fluttering out of his hands like leaves on the wind. It was fine. Choso was used to being disappointed. “I just wished to see that he was alright and taken care of.”
He could watch from afar.
The man scoffed, but the knife lowered a fraction of an inch. “Any other unwelcome family additions I should be expecting then? If she thinks she can win in a legal battle, rest assured, I will be pulling out all of the receipts. Everything.”
Choso shook his head. “No, our other brothers are gone now. He-um, our parent might return, but no matter what, I will not allow my brother to be drawn into their schemes. Not like…no. Not at all. I know better now.”
The kitchen was silent aside from the gentle pop and sizzle of whatever was on the stove. Choso took a deep breath and bowed. He would respect his brother's grandfather out of love for his brother, even if said grandfather was forcing their separation.
It was fine.
Yuji had spoken so fondly of the man, and his time with him was more limited. Choso refused to take that away from him any earlier.
“I apologize for the intrusion. I see now it is unwanted.” Choso swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling a bit tight. “If I could…if you would allow, then I would like to say goodbye…?”
He didn’t lift his head even when he heard a rough sigh and the clatter of metal on the counter.
“Stay for dinner then.” The man muttered. Choso looked up in surprise, eyes wide. Yuji’s grandfather scoffed again and waved his hand dismissively at some cabinets. “If you’re going to stay, make yourself useful and set the table.”
“Of course!” He nodded enthusiastically.
“Don’t look too happy.” The man muttered. “I expect the full truth outta you as soon as I put Yuji to bed tonight.”
Choso fumbled slightly with the plates and bowls he was pulling out, but managed to keep them from dropping on the ground. “Are you sure? It’s a little unbelievable for non-well for most people.”
“My son’s dead wife seemingly came back to life after a horrible accident, and he had a kid with her. A kid I’m now taking care of because that witch disappeared with my son, and likely killed him.”
“A-ah.”
It appeared as though Kenjaku wasn’t as subtle as he thought. Then again, Choso glanced curiously at the man as he scowled over some burnt bits in the pan; most of the sorcerer world ignored or thought less of your average human. How many opponents had Choso fought who thought themselves superior in every way? Kenjaku was only one of many. It wouldn’t surprise him if he hadn’t bothered tying up this small thread under the assumption that a human couldn’t do anything to him. One silly human couldn’t possibly provide an insight that could impact his master plan.
It was something of note. Something new. Something he hadn’t known in the future that hopefully will never be.
Despite the…difficult introductions, dinner was everything Choso could have wanted it to be with Yuji grinning widely and talking about his day and calling Choso his big brother without any hesitation. There was a syrupy warmth in his chest, and his cheeks hurt from how widely he was grinning. Even Yuji’s grandfather's narrowed-eyed look of suspicion and occasional barbed comment couldn’t dampen his mood.
When it came time to explain everything to the man, he didn’t hold back. The grandfather of his brother deserved to know. Even if the man did ultimately turn him away, then at least he would know. At least he would be aware of the danger that Yuji would have to face someday. Even if Choso, himself, swore to prevent as much as he could. He got halfway through his explanation of his and his brother's creation, with a few detours to explain jujutsu sorcerer and cursed spirits, before the man held up his hand and left the room, only to return with a bottle of sake. He took a deep, soulful gulp and then waved Choso to continue.
By the time he was done, it was late into the night, and there were several empty bottles. Choso sat quietly as the man leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, his expression complicated.
“Do you believe me?” He was sure even some sorcerers would have trouble accepting some of the things he shared. Were he to walk into Jujutsu High right now, he’d likely be lucky to get a few words in edgewise before being attacked and sealed.
“You know…somehow I do. Every word.” Wasuke Itadori sighed. At some point in the long-winded explanations, he had finally introduced himself fully. “My head is telling me this is foolish and that you’re insane…And yet there is something in me, deep down, that knows it’s all true.”
“Then…”
“Yes, you can stay…brat.”
“So, uh, what the hell?”
If Suguru had more than two hours of sleep last night, he’d probably be just as shocked as Satoru, but as it was, his brain lagged behind like an old computer trying to reboot and failing repeatedly. He could only stare blankly ahead in incomprehension.
“I said what I said.” Their teacher sighed, folding his arms across his chest, looking unnaturally perturbed. “Eight of the Nine Curse Wombs: Death Paintings are destroyed, and one is missing. No sign of any break-in or fight of any kind. It was as though they just spontaneously self-destructed, and one vanished without a trace.”
“They were stored behind Tengen’s concealing barrier?” It was a statement, but it came out sounding more like a question as Suguru tried to process this information. He had been on no less than three missions in the last 24 hours, all by himself, of course, and at various parts of the country. He was tired and frustrated and really, really just wanted to go to bed.
Yaga-sensei nodded.
The room fell into silence until Satoru, with his usual lack of tact and decorum, broke it.
“So, again…what the hell?”