Chapter Text
The shrill ring of his phone sliced through the quiet afternoon. Gojo sat watching as his students left him for the day... complaining as per usual. He decided to pick his phone up on the second ring. He stood tall in an expensive-looking white T-shirt and dark slacks, the black wrap around his eyes perched lazily on his nose despite being indoors.
Grinning as he feel alittle too goofy today. “Ahh~! Is this a fan call?” he chimed dramatically. “You’ve reached the coolest, strongest, and most beloved Jujutsu Sorcerer alive, Gojo Satoru!. Autographs are scheduled for next week.”
Silence.
Gojo tilted his head slightly, glancing at the caller ID. “Ah. Principal Yaga.” His grin didn’t fade. “You’re awfully quiet today. Did someone finally admit I’m your favorite?”
A long sigh crackled through the speaker, the kind that carried years of experience dealing with him.
“Gojo.”
“Yes, yes, that’s me.”
Ignoring his antics he continued “There’s been a disturbance along the border between Tokyo and Kyoto. Students from both schools reported an abnormal concentration of cursed energy. We’re not risking sending them in. So I need you to—”
The line crackled again.
Because Gojo was no longer there. A breeze rustled through an empty classroom where he had been standing.
Teleportation.
From somewhere else entirely, Yaga heard him through the phone, voice cheerful and far too pleased with himself.
“Already on it! You should really finish your sentences faster, Principal. Bye~”
Click.
A moment later, Gojo appeared at the edge of a wooded area straddling the Tokyo–Kyoto boundary. Actually he had already sense the weird curse energy long before Yaga pointed it out, he just thought he would check it out later. But he never would have suspected the students from both schools to also sense it.
He slipped one hand casually into his pocket. The other brushed through his hair as he exhaled. “What is it this time...” he complained lightly, though he didn’t sound particularly burdened.
The air was thick. The energy hung unnaturally dense, heavy like humidity before a storm. Gojo stopped smiling. Just slightly.“…Huh.” The sensation was familiar. Not dangerous. Not chaotic. Familiar.
His Six Eyes sharpened, dissecting the energy patterns layered across the forest. Threads of cursed energy curled unnaturally through the trees, too controlled to be a random surge. Too refined to belong to a mindless curse.
He walked forward lazily, as though on a casual stroll, but his senses were fully alert. “That’s weird,” he murmured. “I definitely didn’t leave anything behind here.” A shift. Above him. He didn’t look up immediately. Instead, a small grin tugged at his lips.
“…You know,” he called out casually, hands still in his pockets, “if you’re going to stalk me, at least try harder to hide it.”
The cursed energy overhead pulsed as if in response. And this time, Gojo finally lifted his gaze, because there was absolutely no way his Six Eyes would miss something like this by accident.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the sky cracked.
Not like thunder.
Not like lightning.
More like space itself had been unzipped.
A swirling void tore open above the forest canopy.
Gojo blinked once. “…Oh.”
Gojo has no idea why he didn't automatically turn on his battle mode, but he almost to quickly internally blame the familiar energy around him instead.
Four small figures suddenly dropped out of it.
“…Oh.”
They fell fast.
Instinct finally kicked in.
Infinity activated instantly, the invisible barrier ready to stop them before they hit the ground— Except the children fell straight through it. “…HuH.” Gojo’s eyes widened. “WAIT WAIT WAIT—” In a blur of movement he physically lunged forward, catching the pile of children before they slammed into the dirt. They landed awkwardly on top of him, tangled together like a dropped stack of laundry. Leaves scattered everywhere.
Gojo froze as he look at the scrambling childrens.
Four kids.
All staring down at him.
Four pairs of eyes.
Bright.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
The cursed energy surrounding them pulsed softly through the air. It was refined. Controlled. And unmistakably similar to his own. Gojo quickly stood up from the ground leaving the children to untangle themselves.
“What the hell is going on here…” His voice cracked slightly. The grinning from earlier was quickly replaced with his rare moments of shock and seriousness. Silence answered him. Gojo looked back down at the children on the ground.
They blinked up at him. All four of them. Those bright blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared.
“…Okay.” He inhaled slowly.
“You four,” he said calmly. “Explain.”
The youngest girl finally found her footing, sniffled. She couldn’t have been older than five. Her tiny hands reached toward him, trembling.
“…Papa?”
Gojo Satoru stopped functioning. Completely. The girl burst into tears and threw herself forward, clinging tightly to his knee. “Papa! Up!”
Gojo’s brain attempted to process the situation. It failed. He slowly sank to his knees, one arm instinctively supporting the child as she hugged him like her life depended on it.
“….” For once, the great Gojo Satoru had absolutely nothing to say. He just awkwardly held the crying child while glancing toward the other three. “…What is this?” Before any of them could answer, another girl suddenly spoke.
“He looks like Pa, but…”
Her eyes narrowed sharply, glaring at him as if she were inspecting a suspicious imposter. “You’re not my papa.”
Gojo blinked.
“…Wow. Thanks, kid.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her attitude. Still, something about them caught his attention. Their eyes are bright blue...Unnaturally bright... actually no, almost close to Uncannily familiar, almost like someone had taken his own eyes and copied them onto these children.
The girl squinted at him suspiciously. “But if you are my Pa… you look younger.”
Gojo scoffed as if his patient was running thin. “First of all, I’m single. Second of all, I definitely don’t remember sleeping with anyone that would lead to this. Thank you very much.” He stood up, still patting the little girl's head as she continued to cling to him stubbornly.
Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, now stood in the middle of a forest holding a crying child while three more stared at him like he was an exhibit in a museum. Great. Just great. Who are these kids? Gojo’s gaze sharpened. They had to be from the Gojo Clan. But that raised another problem. How could there be children with eyes like his that he had never heard about?
He stepped closer to the accusing girl. Brown hair. Bright blue eyes. A cursed energy signature that felt… strangely familiar.
“…Huh.” He leaned back slightly, studying her. “You look oddly familiar.” He tapped his chin. “It’s like staring into my own eyes…” A pause. “…That’s concerning.”
He crossed his arms, mirroring her stance. “Alright then, Miss Detective. How old are you?”
“I’m eleven,” the girl replied proudly. She pointed behind her. “That’s my big sister. She’s seventeen.” The oldest girl stood calmly with her arms crossed, watching everything with far more composure than the others. “She’s a student at Jujutsu High.”
Gojo blinked. “…Excuse me?”
The girl continued pointing. “That’s our little brother. He’s eight.” The boy gave a small awkward wave.
Gojo blinked again. White hair…?
“And that’s the baby,” the girl added, gesturing to the child still clinging to Gojo like a koala. “She’s five.”
Gojo slowly nodded. He looked at the oldest girl with a lot of confusion. “Wait wait wait...” His eyes widened. “You’re a student at Jujutsu High?!”
The seventeen-year-old shrugged casually. “Apparently.” She tilted her head slightly. “Judging by your reaction, I assume I’m not born yet in your timeline.”
Gojo stared at her for a full ten seconds. Then grabbed his hair dramatically.
“I—”
Deep breath.
“I—”
Another breath.
Then suddenly... “WAIT!” He pointed at her. “What do you mean not born yet?! And I definitely don’t remember having a student like you!” He paused. Studying her face again. Something about her felt weirdly familiar.
“…Oh shit.” His expression shifted as realization slowly began creeping in. “…Don’t tell me.” He leaned back slightly.
“…I guess I’m still stuck dealing with brats.” A beat passed. Then he gasped dramatically. “Did I at least get a raise?!”
The eleven year old immediately frowned. “Hey! Pa! You shouldn’t say bad words in front of kids!” she gesture to her younger sister who still clung onto Gojo like a lifeline.
Gojo snorted. “…Of course.” He muttered under his breath before patting her head. “Alright, alright. My bad.”
Then suddenly… His eyes widened. Brown hair. He slowly looked back at the girls. Then at their eyes. Then back again. “…Don’t tell me.” His voice lowered cautiously. “Your mother isn’t that chain-smoking, ‘I hate kids’ doctor… Shoko, right?”
He said it almost in a joking way, as if he himself is convincing himself that this can't be possible.
Though almost not as he has expected the answer came in the form of four silent nods.
Gojo froze. Then-
“WHA!!?? SHOKO?!”
His shout echoed through the forest. The little girl in his arms gasped in fright and immediately scrambled away, running to hide behind her older sister. “P-Papa’s scary…” she whimpered. Gojo instantly looked guilty. But the shock hadn’t left his face. He looked pale. “That’s impossible…”
He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “We were never like that. We were good friends! And and....” Before he could spiral further, the boy spoke up with a tired sigh. “…It’s a long story.” The sisters nodded in agreement.
Finally, the quiet boy looked up at him again. “So… what now?”
Gojo looked at the four of them. His supposed future children. He forced a sigh trying to calm himself down. Then a laugh. “Well,” he said,
“I guess the logical next step… is asking your names.”