Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It took a lot to rattle Shoko. 

Sorcerers were weird and crazy at their best, and it was her job to deal with them at their worst. Suffice it to say: the dark-haired healer saw so much insanity just during her nine to five that cluster bombs could start dropping outside her building, and she wouldn't bat an eye. 

But, when Gojo Satoru walked into her office at two in the morning and proclaimed, "I need some coffee," she had to take a few moments to collect herself. Gojo was famously not a night-owl. The higher-ups couldn't get him out of bed for anything less than a rampaging special-grade, and, even then, he would demand they double his pay for working overtime.

And yet, here he was, slouching over to her couch and flopping himself down with a sigh, kicking his feet up on her coffee table and staring at the ceiling. Giving her head a shake to get herself moving, Shoko offered a quick smile in his direction - she knew he would see it even if he didn't turn to look - and said, 

"Well, you're in luck. I actually just put a pot on."

Rising from her bench, the reverse cursed technique user moved over to the small kitchen in the corner of her office, consisting of a microwave, a sink, and a mini-fridge. There, she grabbed the half-full pot of coffee from the coffee-maker, hooking two fingers through the handle of a mug as she turned back towards her visitor. 

"What do you take?" Shoko asked, expecting the special-grade manchild to respond with 'three creams, six sugars,' or something equally tooth-rotting and heart-attack-inducing. But, for the second time that night, she found herself shocked as Gojo shook his head,

"Nah, just leave it black."

Swallowing the dozens of questions that were multiplying in her head, the impromptu barista shrugged, filled the mug with the still-warm, black liquid, and shuffled over to the couch, careful not to spill.

Shoko sat gingerly beside her sudden visitor, setting the coffee cup and pot down on the knee-high table before them. Gojo was not acting even remotely like himself, and she was beginning to wonder if there was something else at play. Seeming oblivious to her suspicion, the blindfolded sorcerer snatched up the mug, raised it to his lips, took a small sip, and exhaled deeply, sinking back into the cushions.

"Shit, that is so much better," he moaned, running his free hand through his hair. Shoko narrowed her eyes, staring sidelong at the man-who-looked-like-Gojo-but-didn't-act-like-Gojo, then, abruptly, went to smack his elbow, aiming to spill his coffee.

The back of her hand hit the Infinity, halting before it reached its target. Gojo cocked his head slightly, sparing her a glance as he took another sip from his mug.

"What was that for?"

Shoko shrugged, turning sideways and leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, no longer even trying to hide her gaze as she studied Gojo with the intensity of a practiced medical examiner. 

"You are acting not even remotely like yourself, and I wanted to make sure you were, you know, you."

Gojo laughed, his face breaking into a grin for the first time that night. His previous lack of a smile was also unusual, and Shoko's discomfort was slowly turning into concern.

"Yeah, I guess I'm not, am I?" The special-grade agreed, taking a long draught from his cup and grimacing as he burned his tongue. "It's just that I've had a very odd past couple of months, and it's got me disbelieving my eyes, which, as you know, shouldn't be possible."

Shoko nodded slowly, biting her lower lip as she debated what to do. On the one hand, Gojo was a private person, despite his exuberant personality. That, and he had made no move thus far to show that he had any intention of telling her why he felt the need to burst into her office at two in the morning. But on the other hand, he burst into her office at two in the morning, goddammit! She was entitled to an explanation. 

"So," she began slowly, earning a more direct gaze from her old friend. "Are you just going to leave me in suspense, or are you going to explain what the hell's going on?"

A shift in his blindfold indicated Gojo's quirked eyebrow as he stated lightly,

"Nothing's going on."

"Oh, don't give me that crap," Shoko hissed, her patience finally running thin. "You kick in the door to my workplace in the middle of the night, you slump around all dejectedly, acting like Nanami, then you ask for black coffee, of all things! Clearly, something happened. Now, explain, or get out and leave the coffee."

Gojo nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that's fair, I suppose." He paused, placing the rim of his mug between his lips but not drinking.

"Plus," Shoko added, more calmly, "What kind of psychopath drinks black coffee at two a.m.?"

"You, apparently," Gojo quipped with a smirk, "The pot was on before I came in."

"Yeah, but I have to stay up all night working," the healer deflected, waving her hand airily, "Some of us have a real job."

The lanky, purple-clad sorcerer chuckled, smiling down at his lap as a momentary silence stretched between them.

"So?" Shoko prompted, drawing a flat stare from the man beside her.

"I'm gathering my thoughts," he snapped, folding his long legs atop each other. "It's a long story, and I'm wondering where to start."

"The beginning's always a good option," came the sarcastic reply, which Gojo deigned not to dignify with a response. Instead, he drained the rest of his coffee, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, set his mug down on the coffee table, and interlaced his fingers on his lap.

"So, I don't really know how I got there..."

Chapter Text

Gojo became aware that his face was lying against something rough. This knowledge annoyed him, as he was pretty sure he went to sleep in his bed with his head on his pillow.

The still half-asleep sorcerer opted to keep his eyes closed, unwilling to perform the chore of opening them and dealing with the massive influx of information that would assault him until he grabbed his blindfold from wherever it was. However, he did fold his hands beneath his cheek to act as a cushion because whatever he was lying on was highly uncomfortable.

It was this fact that shook him out of the sleep-addled stupor he was in and made him realize he was not in his bed.

Gojo's eyes snapped open as he leaped to his feet, the ice-blue orbs taking in his surroundings nearly instantaneously. He was in a massive, dome-shaped enclosure with various artificial biomes scattered about the grounds. Even as his brain started to go into overdrive, trying to figure out where the fuck he was, he took in the scene unfolding before him.

A massive, blond man was boxing with some dark, grey-skinned monster. Gojo hesitated to call it a curse - although it looked like one - he could see none of the usual, colored aura of cursed energy. This absence would have been odd enough, but was even stranger, considering both the blond man and the grey-skinned monster were moving at speeds impossible without cursed energy. In fact, as he took in the crowd of petrified-looking children watching the fight, he found he could see no cursed energy from any of them. It was as though he had woken up in a room full of Tojis.

The special-grade shuddered. Now there was a scary thought.

Gojo took another moment to wonder if he should expand his Domain and knock everyone out but decided against it as the children watching the fight before him, their faces struck with horror, did not look particularly cursey, and he didn't really want to have to pay for several dozen cases of brain damage. 

Deciding against using his trump card, at least not right then, Gojo strode forward, determined to find out who in the  world  thought it was okay to kidnap the Honored One.

Throughout his entire life, never before had Izuku felt so helpless. He had dealt with being the weakest for as long as he could remember, watched his friends get beaten down, unable to do anything about it, and received the same treatment himself. Through his years in school, the only thing that kept him going was the hope that one day, he could be strong, that he could be a hero, that he could make it so that no one ever had to feel the crushing weight of  uselessness  that he struggled with for so long. And he knew it was possible - after all, the pinnacle of strength had blond hair and a blinding smile. All he had to do was be like his hero.

But now, the temporarily lifted weight was coming crashing back, and Izuku's knees were buckling with the strain. To his classmates, it looked as though All Might was holding his own, keeping pace with the monster, his hands moving blindingly fast as he threw increasingly powerful blows. But Izuku could see it: the grimace replacing the smile, the steam pouring from All Might's frame that, to others, could simply be from exertion but that he knew signaled his mentor's time was almost up.

'I have to help him.'

Izuku refused - he flat out  refused  - to allow his dream to crumble, to allow things to go back to the way they were before. And if that meant broken legs, he thought as he bent his knees, then so be it. Gritting his teeth, Izuku steeled himself, readied for the excruciating pain, and pushed off the ground as hard as he could. 

And he didn't move.

Several things went through Izuku's mind at that moment. One: something had just stopped the full power of One for All. Two: though whatever had halted him had not budged even an inch, it didn't feel hard - it was almost as if all of his momentum had disappeared. And finally, as he raised his gaze, he wondered who the tall, smiling, white-haired man standing before him was and why his hand was atop Izuku's head.

"Hey, there!" The stranger greeted cheerfully, seeming oblivious to the shellshocked faces of 1-A and the battle unfolding behind him. "My name's Gojo. Whose Domain is this?"

Izuku blinked several times, his large, emerald orbs widening in confusion, as the stranger -  Gojo , apparently - removed his hand from Izuku's head. 

'He stopped my jump with one hand?'

Aloud, Izuku stuttered,

"D-Domain? What do you mean by that, sir?"

Absently, he wondered what Gojo's Quirk was and if it had anything to do with the white fractals spreading across his strangely colored eyes. The stranger's smile turned sheepish and he rubbed the back of his neck, saying,

"Well, I know I'm the Honored One and all that, but 'sir' makes me uncomfortable: just Gojo is fine. Second, I mean this," he made a gesture that encompassed the USJ Dome, "With all of the different biomes and stuff. Whose Domain is it? And," he added thoughtfully, tilting his head like a cat, "Now that I think about it, maybe that's why none of you have any cursed energy. Maybe that's what his Domain does..." Gojo trailed off, almost seeming to forget he was having a conversation as he glanced back at All Might.

'All Might!'

Izuku shook himself out of his shock as he remembered his hero. 

"Sir!" He shouted urgently, causing Gojo to turn back with a single, snowy eyebrow raised. "Are you a hero? You have to help All Might!"

"Who?"

Izuku mouthed wordlessly for several seconds as he processed what Gojo had just said. 

"You don't know who - never mind that! You have to help him!"

Gojo frowned slightly and turned fully towards the blond man and the monster. 

"Him?" He asked, his nonchalant tone causing Izuku's already bubbling anger to flare as he screamed,

"Yes! Hurry!"

"Wait, wait, wait," Shoko interrupted, raising her hands and shaking her head. "I don't get it."

Gojo took the break in his story-telling as an opportunity to refill his mug and answered,

"Well, yeah, neither did I. I still don't, really."

Shoko ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as though attempting to force the information jumbling in her head into order.

"So was it a curse, or was it not a curse?"

"It wasn't a curse."

"Then what the hell was it!"

"I'm getting there, Shoko!"

"Well, get there faster."

"Alright, I'll skip ahead, then."

Gojo slowly chewed a snickerdoodle, appreciating the dry, crumbly texture. It was a very solid cookie: one among others from the small, silver platter set before him. The platter rested upon a large wooden desk that, along with the pastries, had numerous documents and books scattered across its surface and a tall, supportive-looking swivel chair situated behind it.

In the chair sat a mouse. 

Gojo glanced around the room, eyeing the creature that looked to be made of stone, the long-haired, tired-looking man with the thin, grey scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, and the detective that brought him to the room, originally - who had introduced himself as Tsukauchi.

He returned his attention to the mouse.

"You don't fit in that chair."

The strongest sorcerer was not entirely unaware of social norms: he knew that insulting a group of unknown strangers who were potentially hostile was not exactly smiled upon. However, he was also the Honored One. Social norms did not apply to him - neither did consequences.

"Indeed, I don't!" The mouse laughed, his voice bright and chipper, despite the obvious tenseness in the room. "But I find sitting in a professional-looking chair helps me look more authoritative."

"You're a mouse," Gojo observed dryly, taking another cookie from the platter - chocolate chip, this time - biting a large chunk from the crisp circle.

"Am I a mouse? A bear? Who knows? I'm Nezu, the principal of this establishment. It's a pleasure to meet you, mister..." Nezu trailed off, looking expectantly at Gojo, who slumped further in his chair, making a show of exaggeratedly swallowing the cookie.

"Just Gojo is fine. Listen, can we skip this part?"

Gojo was running thin on patience, and he didn't particularly enjoy speaking with creatures that so closely resembled curses yet claimed to be nothing of the sort. To his annoyance, Nezu laughed once more, responding,

"Well, I'm sure I don't know what you mean?"

Gojo leaned forward, tapping his finger on the desk to emphasize his point.

"This doesn't happen to me. No one can do things to me without me knowing it and willing it. Explain where I am and why I'm here."

"You're quite skilled at giving orders, mister Gojo. Are you sure you're not a principal yourself?"

Gojo massaged his temples, clenching his eyes shut for a few moments as the Six Eyes were beginning to give him a migraine. Could the damn rat just answer his questions so he could find his blindfold?"

"I'm a teacher." He lifted his gaze, meeting the principal's eyes, allowing the blue orbs to spark slightly with his cursed energy. "Tell me where I am: so I can leave."

Nezu met his gaze evenly - a feat that disturbed Gojo more than he would have liked to admit - and when he spoke, all pretenses of cordiality had vanished.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. There are records of each Quirk ever manifested in all of Japan. We know every single Quirk-user in this country - at all times. And yet, we have no record of you. It's as though you don't exist."

Gojo sighed in exasperation. What part of "I'm not supposed to be here" did the rat not understand? He opened his mouth to ask that very question but halted when the principal continued,

"Now, I will ask you a series of questions, and I need you to answer them truthfully. Failure to do so will result in consequences that I promise you would rather avoid."

Gojo passively blinked, processing that someone had just threatened him. A smile spread across his face: one that didn't even come close to reaching his eyes.

"I'm beginning to think that none of you know who I am."

"Well, perhaps we should start there, then. What is your name."

Nezu's tone made it clear he expected an answer - a truthful one - and that he would not tolerate anything other than Gojo's actual identity. The sorcerer's mind raced as he ran scenarios through his head, assessing his options, wondering whether killing everyone in the room would spare him a headache. He concluded, however, that something was clearly afoot, and the mouse sitting before him seemed intelligent enough to provide answers - if only he stuck it out for a bit longer.

"Gojo Satoru."

The principal's gaze flicked over Gojo's shoulder, meeting eyes with Tsukauchi, who nodded surreptitiously. 

"Good," Nezu said, returning his gaze to Gojo. "Next question: who are you?"

Briefly, Gojo considered playing dumb and commenting that the mouse had just asked the same question he had just answered but decided against it, as he knew what Nezu meant and antagonizing him would gain nothing.

"I'm the world's strongest sorcerer."

Again, Nezu's eyes went to Tsukauchi, who again nodded before the principal continued,

"And what is a sorcerer?"

Gojo lifted his chin, exhaling slowly. There it was, absolute confirmation that he was not speaking with curses, and he was  definitely  not in Tokyo. Taking a deep breath, the special grade asked,

"Can I borrow your tie?"

Nezu looked startled for a moment, seeming to consider asking why on earth Gojo would need his tie, but wordlessly removed and handed over the strip of fabric, regardless. 

"Ah, that is so much better," Gojo sighed in relief as he tied the red cloth around his eyes, and the massive overload of information slamming into his brain cut off. As he had suspected, however, the world around him was dark. The lack of cursed energy wherever he was blinded his Six Eyes. With a blindfold around his face, he was as sightless as anyone else. He cracked his knuckles, considering how to proceed. "A sorcerer is someone who uses their inherent powers to fight against evil forces that wish to harm humanity."

He removed the impromptu blindfold, wincing slightly as the Six Eyes took over again, and handed the tie back to the mouse who set it aside. 

"So you're a hero?" Nezu confirmed, to which Gojo shrugged, flippantly answering,

"I suppose, something like that."

Once more, a glance at Tsukauchi, who, once more, nodded. Nezu made a tiny gesture with his hand, one that was clearly meant to go unnoticed but that Gojo saw nonetheless, and, to the sorcerer's annoyance, stone-man and scarf-man straightened, becoming alert and taking several small steps forward towards the duo at the table. For his part, Gojo simply sighed, double-checking that the Infinity was up, and waited for whatever 'important' question the mouse was about to ask him.

"Final question, mister Gojo," the mouse sat back in his chair, watching the man before him very closely. "Are you aware that you just murdered someone?"

Gojo blinked.

Whatever he had expected from the mouse, that had not been it.

"Murdered? Murdered who?"

Nezu made no attempt to be sly, as he turned to Tsukauchi who, for his part, shrugged, speaking for the first time in the meeting,

"He's not lying."

"Well, then," Nezu murmured, leaning forward and resting his chin atop his hands, staring intently across the desk. Gojo, who was getting very tired of the entire interaction, pinched the bridge of his nose, loudly complaining,

"Listen, as riveting as this whole thing is, I'm about three seconds from pulling you all into the Infinite Void, so if the four of you would like to avoid that, I suggest someone get me some sunglasses - the darkest pair you have."

Nezu nodded slowly, and a slight smile broke through his serious mask.

"Yes, yes, of course, I suppose that helps you with your Quirk regulation. If you would, follow Tsukauchi -" Nezu pointed to the detective "- He will bring you to our Quirk-Maintenence facility."

Gojo shook his head, remaining in his seat, saying,

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone. You can get me the sunglasses, or you can not - I'll get them either way. I'm trying my best to be civil here, rat, don't test my patience."

Spreading his hands in a placating gesture, Nezu tried,

"Mister Gojo, it seems you are just as confused as we are. I am the head of a very powerful organization, and I can promise that we will put all of our efforts into unlocking the enigma that is your presence on this campus. But, in order to do that, we need you to cooperate with us, at least a little."

The sorcerer sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time and stood, pointing a single, long-knuckled finger at the principal.

"Fine. But know this: there is no trapping, manipulating, or controlling me. If I think for even a moment that we are not on the same side I will wipe your entire "organization" off the face of the earth."

Nezu smiled placidly, and Gojo followed the detective out of the room.

Aizawa wasn't sure what Nezu was thinking. This was nothing new, the Principal of UA was a hard-to-read person.

The mouse-like man had been silent for several minutes after Tsukauchi and the white-haired-weirdo - as Aizawa was beginning to refer to him in his head - had left the room, Cementoss following soon after. The teacher made no move to interrupt his superior, not only because Nezu was his boss but also because he had seen the Principal in this state before, and it always led to answers.

"And you're sure that All Might was struggling with this Mutant-Type Quirk?" Nezu asked quietly, breaking the silence. Aizawa nodded in affirmation,

"Absolutely. It was obvious: he was barely keeping up."

"And could you lay out for me, one more time,  exactly  what happened when Gojo showed up?"

The teacher paused, gathering his thoughts before recounting,

"I was nearly out, so my memory is hazy. All Might was fighting the man with the Mutant-Type Quirk, the villains called him 'Nomu,' and, suddenly, Gojo just appeared between them."

"You're sure he just appeared?" Nezu interrupted, "He didn't walk up or run over really fast?"

"I suppose he could have been moving faster than my eye could follow," Aizawa conceded, "Similar to All Might, but I don't think so. I didn't feel any sudden gust of displaced air or hear anything like the noise it makes when All Might moves at his top speed. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I would say he teleported."

"Okay," Nezu muttered, half to himself, "So that's one Quirk. What next?"

"Well, he materialized between the two of them while both were mid-punch. For a moment, I thought they hit him, but when I looked closer, I saw that both of their fists had stopped a few inches from his body as if they hit some invisible barrier."

"Now he has two Quirks. Great. Next?"

"He said something to All Might, who looked understandably shocked, then, when Nomu tried to hit him again, he caught the punch with his hand, then there was a purple flash of light, and Nomu was gone."

The Principal made a noise of resignation, asking,

"Just like that? Nothing left of him?"

"Nothing," Aizawa confirmed, "And a big hole in the wall right behind where he used to be. That implies that Gojo shot some kind of beam at him."

"At least three Quirks," Nezu stated, getting off of his chair and walking towards the door. "I don't like the idea of someone having multiple Quirks, or where that says their affiliations lie."

"Do you want me to restrain him?" Aizawa asked, and Nezu shook his head, opening the door.

"We don't have the capability to stop him right now. When he threatened to destroy the school, I looked at Tsukauchi, and he signaled that Gojo was telling the truth, or at least that he believed he was. With All Might out of commission, even you can't handle him by yourself."

Aizawa nodded in acquiesce, and Nezu continued,

"For now, we play nice until All Might is back in top form. Then we question Gojo about his Quirk and his possible connection with  Him . If it gets ugly, you and All Might, combined, should be enough to deal with it, no matter how strong he is."

Nezu left the room, leaving Aizawa alone, wondering why, in all his genius, the Principal was so confident that Erasure and One for All would be enough to handle whatever monstrous Quirk the white-haired man possessed.