Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Toji was depressed as hell after the tragic passing of his wife. There’s no sugarcoating it. Her death had effectively sucked out any and all joy he had left in this shitty world. The days had begun to blur together without her soft smiles to brighten them, passing him by as he numbingly moved through the motions with the airs of a guy who no longer gave a shit. He took on more jobs, threw himself into his rekindled gambling addiction, drowning himself in any form of distraction he could find.

It was around this time when Megumi started to become ridiculously clingy.

The boy was a quiet, calm child, taking after a similar temperament as his late mother. He always managed to find ways to occupy himself and never made a fuss. A number of caretakers cooed over how well-behaved, how easy it was to manage him. The easiest gig they’ll ever have in their uncomplicated careers. Easy enough to put at the back of Toji’s mind, and forget the painful reminder their son’s existence brought, just for a little while.

Which must have been why it hit so hard when his son suddenly changed tunes one night, when Megumi barreled into his leg just as he’s about to leave for another mark. Bringing to his attention that at some point, between all of the nihilism and reckless indulgences used to preoccupy himself, he had not been there to see the boy’s first steps. The question of what other milestones Toji had missed lingered as he looked down, perplexed and clueless on how to deal with this newest development.

And Megumi immediately brought out the big guns too, bottom lip wobbling, fat tears rolling down his cheek as he started to wail as loudly as his little lungs would allow.

“Hey-!” Toji cussed under his breath, scooping the toddler up and backtracking to the boy’s room. The nanny apologized profusely for failing to stop Megumi from bolting out of bed after him, swearing she had taken her eyes off the child for only a few seconds. Looking down, the brat’s cool as a cucumber again, having quieted down quickly while he’s cradled in Toji’s arms, sucking at his thumb and staring up at the man with baleful eyes, expectant. Of what, Toji had no fucking clue. He wasn’t about to stick around and play detective.

Only, the distressed wails start right back up again when he tries to hand him over to the flustered older woman, little fingers digging desperately into his shirt and tugging, refusing to let go. Still slightly hungover, Toji didn’t have the patience to make sense of the sudden change. He needed to leave. He…

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Toji groused. His shirt ended up stretched out to the point where it was unsalvageable. He had to waste time changing into another before heading out. The kid was absolutely full-on glaring at him now, ruddy and puffed out cheeks pressed against the nanny’s bouncing shoulder as she encouraged the boy to wave goodbye. The boy stubbornly turns his head away with a disappointed huff instead as Toji slips out the front door. 

His head must not have been in the game that night, far more sloppy with taking out the target than he would have liked. Whatever.

…

There is this growing trickle of… dare he say it, a conscience, seeping through his ever present, self-deprecating haze whenever he has to step out for work nowadays, with a new toll that needed to be paid whenever he wanted to be free of the damn brat for even an afternoon. Awkward pats on the head eventually turned into tight hugs, to stilted kisses on the cheek and forehead before the child would even think of allowing him to leave.

He’s turned up his nose at bribes of the material, tangible variety. Unless it happened to be anything to do with wolves, with how the brat proudly dragged his newest plushie around the apartment. Demanding, imperious little urchin. And Megumi was clearly on a mission, fully intending to guilt trip the shit out of him.

…

Toji was in a lazy sprawl on the bed and zoning out in front of the TV, the sitter being sent home for the night because no new bounties had been enticing enough to catch his eye, when Megumi crawled over and plopped right down on top of him like it was his birthright, sitting on his father’s chest while wearing a blue onesie with floppy puppy ears stitched to the hood. There is a silent moment where they stare each other down, a battle of immovable wills. It was a struggle to look serious with chubby cheeks and a trail of drool running down his chin, but even at his tender age, little Megumi knew that he needed to get a point across to this deadbeat.

We’re in this together and you aren’t going to fuck it up, old man. Of course, the only thing coming out of his mouth were incoherent baby babbles. Toji squinted wearily as he sat up, crossing his legs and holding the toddler out by the armpits to look at him properly. Grunted when Megumi smacked him between the eyes for his troubles.

“Da.”

Toji stilled, then let out a short breath through his nose. He carefully laid the both of them back down into their previous positions. When he did nothing else, the boy grew bored and yawned, laying down to get some well-deserved rest. Keeping one’s head up all the time was exhausting. The weather was getting colder, the first snowfall of the season evident right outside their window, and Megumi took advantage of Toji’s body heat. The man was practically a furnace. Toasty.

Toji absently rubbed at the boy’s back as the brat drifted off, while he's left staring up blankly at the ceiling. 

…He would stick around more often, he grudgingly decided. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to his wife’s grave. Bring her some of those flowers he remembered she liked. She deserved that much. And drag this bane of his existence along too, he guessed, to show her how quickly their son was growing.

Blink, and they would miss it.

…

Ah, fuck.

He was in it for the long haul, wasn’t he?

Chapter Text

“What do you think, brat?”

Toji kind of regrets even mentioning anything regarding the other side of that coin. With time they’ve come to find that the boy could see cursed spirits, had budding cursed energy incubating in that bird-thin frame of his, baby fat still clinging to his pouting face as the boy hugged Toji's neck and silently willed for his father to somehow read his thoughts. 

It had been one unassuming morning, where Toji choked on his beer as his son formed a hand sign unprompted and summoned two pups that flopped over themselves across the tile floor of their apartment. One black, one white. Wagging tails and yipping happily as the brat crouched down and accepted their wet kisses, clear as day that they adored each other already.

Ten Shadows. The judgement and mockery of his own family echoed from years past at the discovery, something Toji had never, ever wanted to acknowledge again. Screw the Zenin all to hell.

He had no intentions of going any deeper into it. Just giving enough for the kid to be able to get by in life. Yeah, kid. You’re not losing it. Monsters exist. Here’s a few ways to kill ‘em. Otherwise, run like hell. You survive to live another day, the world moves on. Yeah, other people know about them. Yeah, other kids. No, probably not the ones at your school. And it all broke down from there. The kid was truly a menace when he wanted something.

“I wanna go to the Jujutsu school.” Megumi tells him plainly, after what must have been some lengthy consideration. He’s gotten bigger, barely tall enough to reach the height of Toji’s thigh. Which is nothing, really, the kid’s a shrimp, but it still manages to throw the man for a loop when he’s the least prepared for it. “...Please?”

And Toji silently despaired, just a little. Already knowing that this was a losing battle. He could practically hear an echo of his wife’s warm laugh, a dull, bittersweet ache in his chest as he imagined how delighted she would have been seeing how tightly this goddamn brat had managed to wound him around his little finger. 

He was genuinely considering bloodshed if his wretched, miserable excuse for a family were to so much as look at his kid wrong.

…He needed to plan ahead, make his move before they even had a chance to move against him and his son.

He wasn’t even hitting thirty yet and already he was too old for this shit.

…

Overall, even Shoko could admit that it had been a pretty nice day. The weather was just shy of cool for the beginning of autumn, the skies were clear with not a cloud in sight. A new arcade game had been installed at the mall, and their motley crew had taken the day to test it out and grab lunch, then bought tickets to watch a horror movie at the theater that was more hilarious than scary, given their line of work. Utahime hadn’t been able to stick around for everything but she had worn a cute dress for the occasion, to which Shoko had greatly appreciated.

Nanami had grumbled but stayed behind to wait in line with Haibara for the limited edition popcorn bucket they had just restocked. The brunette had been practically vibrating with excitement while the remaining three of their group had gone on ahead back to the school.

Still daydreaming about swishing skirts that had teased enticingly pale legs, Shoko turns absently as Satoru stops mid-sentence in his impassioned explanation on the superiority of whatever fighter he had chosen to defeat Suguru’s from that arcade game. His head snaps to the side at breakneck speed, one of those brief but frequent times where he forgets that normal people get whiplash from shit like that, before teleporting from the spot without another word. 

“Oh.” Shoko observed. “That’s probably not good.”

Suguru, mouth still open for whatever heated disagreement he had been about to unleash on the white-haired wonder, then blinks in confusion at Shoko, who shrugs. Their friend hadn’t gotten very far. His cursed energy signature could be felt just up ahead, past the bend that led up to Jujutsu Tech. “Satoru!” Suguru called out, mildly curious as to what got his friend’s attention.

…

Despite their current diminutive forms, the Divine Dogs still had an impeccable sense of smell and loyalty for their master. They knew danger when they smelled it. Together, the two of them locked in on their target: The one with the stupid looking sunglasses, who suddenly appeared out of thin air to look them over with interest, taking in the red markings on their foreheads. The puppies backed up, snarling up at the young sorcerer, who merely gave an evil little chuckle and made grabby motions at them.

A child with a head of spiky black hair dashes out from behind and clings hard to the older boy’s leg while his back is turned. The dogs barked victoriously at their master’s successful ambush, the two taking evasive maneuvers to avoid the stranger’s unworthy hands. Noticing the extra weight, Gojo looked down at the little ankle biter. Squints. “Uh. Kid. Let go.”

The little urchin only scowled up at him, clinging harder. His dogs were on the line and this meant war . “No.”

Gojo scowled back, equally as childish. He lifted his occupied leg up high just to get in the kid’s face, showing off his impeccable balance and flexibility. “The hell do you mean, ‘ no ’, hah? Get off!”

“No!”

“What the fuck!”

“Satoru, language.” Suguru scolded as he caught up, hands in his pocket as he strolled over to take a look, eyeing his friend’s little hitchhiker as Satoru does a funny little one-legged dance in place. “...Where did he even come from?”

“I knew it. Fatherhood doesn’t suit you at all .” Shoko shook her head as she brought up the rear, whistling to the two puppers and bending down to offer a hand for them to sniff. They both sneezed in unison before taking off across the courtyard. Aw. Zoomies.

Knowing a challenge when he heard one, Satoru puts his leg down for the time being with an annoyed groan, hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to even mean?”

Settling the freshly lit cigarette between her fingers, Shoko points to Suguru, then Satoru. Then to the grumbling boy, whose face is buried against Satoru’s pants leg. “You can’t tell me that this isn’t your secret lovechild, he literally looks like the perfect blend of you two. It's actually kinda scary.”

Suguru glances sharply at her, the lightest blush coloring his cheekbones. Shoko returns it evenly and lifts her chin in their own silent challenge, one just between the two of them. She raises an eyebrow, blowing out smoke in lazy tendrils when Suguru predictably folds first and looks away with a quiet huff.

Satoru, of course, misses the short exchange completely as he sputters in indignation, strutting around in a circle and scowling down in annoyance at his persistent tag along. “What are even in those cigarettes, how would that even work-?! No. Do not.” He changes gears quickly when he sees how Shoko’s smile becomes eerily benign, at the ready with impromptu medical voodoo, a jujutsu sorcery version of the birds and the bees. “You’re insane. Like I’d go and have some snot-nosed five year old-”

“I’m six.” The kid piped up.

Satoru quickly bends down at the hip. “No one cares. You’re a baby.”

“ You’re a baby.” the boy retorts without missing a beat. Oh, burn. Shoko already likes this one.

Satoru’s face scrunches up in distaste. He was not losing his cool to a literal child. No sir, not today. He activates infinity without any further delay. The brat blinks owlishly as he slides onto his butt onto the concrete, the lanky long leg easily slipping out of his hold. The boy only glares up and sticks out his tongue. Satoru, to the surprise of no one, responds in kind.

As entertaining as all of this was, they should really get to the bottom of this. Suguru stepped forward and bent down, smiling cordially as he politely introduced himself and his two classmates. Megumi warily peeks up at the teen, taking in the odd bangs and gauges in his ears, not moving from where he sat on the ground as the two puppies bound back to cuddle up to their master for pets, tails wagging a mile a minute. Suguru exchanges a quick look with Satoru as they regard the summoned shikigami.

“There’s no need to be afraid. Do you know where your mom is? Or your dad? We can help find them for you.” Suguru offers a kind smile, ignoring how Satoru shook his head furiously in the background, a blatant refusal to assist.

“My mom’s dead.” Megumi said with all the bluntness of a child who’s seen some shit. 

The smile froze on Suguru’s lips. “...Ah.”

Shoko averts her eyes casually when Suguru turns to her with a tinge of desperation, while Satoru whistles loudly. Saving the trio from any more grief, the boy points in the direction of the torii gates. “My dad’s over there.”

While their attentions were drawn towards the path leading to the stone staircase, for whatever reason Megumi makes another determined attempt at Satoru’s legs, only to be stopped short by an invisible wall. “Hah.” Satoru teased, sending the boy a sly grin. “You’re going to have to try a little harder than tha-”

“Megumi, stop clinging to that walking freakshow.” 

The worn sweater did nothing to hide the powerful build that the man possessed underneath as he came into view, reaching the top steps. It was extremely obvious that he didn’t want to be here, even as he walked in step with Yaga sensei. There’s an old scar across the corner of his downturned mouth and a clear warning in his tone. “You said that you would behave , goddamn brat. Come here.”

Satoru’s mouth twitched, clearly offended. Who the hell did this guy think he was? The blackout shades slid down his nose as he narrowed his eyes at the vaguely familiar man, then down at the kid, sky blue irises shining bright as he took him in properly. Ever the contrarian, he leaned down and hugged the boy tightly just as Megumi gave up with the slightest pout, so that he couldn't wiggle free. 

“Eh? This guy can’t possibly be your dad, he’s sketchy as hell.” Yeah, he was definitely an ankle-biter with how he gnashed his little teeth against seemingly solid air that surrounded the teen. 

“No!” The boy shouted, struggling. Agitated, the dogs were zooming around the two, barking up a storm. Suguru suddenly had a really bad feeling about this. He moves in to play peacemaker, only for Satoru to jump back and to flip the boy upside down, arm thrown around his middle as Megumi’s short legs kick fruitlessly.

“Dad!” Megumi cried out, more affronted than anything. There was no indication that the boy was in any real danger. Reckless as he could be sometimes, Suguru knew that his friend, for all his brashness and bravado, wasn’t trying to actually hurt the kid. Not that it made him any less of a menace.

The man scowled deeply all the same, prowling forward. Rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, eyeing Satoru like he was hardly even an appetizer. Which. Was a little intimidating. And insulting, because hello, he was Satoru motherfucking Gojo. But the six-eyes user was never going to admit that out loud. Ever. If anyone ever says otherwise he would deny it vehemently until the day he died.

Suguru himself takes a cautious step back, eyes flickering to their sensei. For a moment, it does seem like Yaga was genuinely about to interevene, a vein bulging on his forehead and mouth opened to reprimand his most wayward student. Then something happens as his gaze moves from Gojo to the irritated stranger, and their mentor only sighs and stands back to let destiny run its course. “Don’t go overboard, Fushiguro. Our deal will be null and void otherwise.”

No, that did not bode well at all. Searching for some form of support in this deranged friend group, Suguru turned only to find that Shoko had already vacated the premises. “Satoru, you idiot, just put the kid down-”

“Watchya gonna do about it?” Satoru goaded, practically inviting the man over. He looks over the rim of his glasses, eyes glittering, cocksure. “Let’s fucking go! You want him? Come and get him!”

…

So, Satoru proceeds to not take his opponent seriously and for the first time in his life, suffers greatly for it. It ends with him on his back, splayed out in the center of a large man-made crater. Dazed and uncomprehending, his ass handed to him by some- some random, batshit crazy hobo-

He's fast. There’s not a lick of spiritual energy to speak of and yet he- he managed to bypass infinity! What-? How-!? 

“Satoru!”

“Fushiguro, I said to restrain yourself!” 

“Relax, I’m not going to kill him, just taking a little off the top-”

“No!” Megumi seems to have had enough as he shouts from above, at the edge of the crater, small hands configured into a hand sign, moments before a flood of white fur descends on the two combatants. Satoru might have either died… or maybe he was just suffering from a pesky concussion, because this wasn’t making any sense. Why he was suddenly drowning in sea of roided out rabbits, he had no fucking clue.

A short moment passes where he stares up into the dark eyes of the man who had managed to best him. Toji grunted then, losing interest as he lifted the blade he had pointed at the Gojo heir’s throat. Spits out the leg of the wriggling bunny that he had caught between his teeth. “Whatever. Seriously, why do you always get attached to the weirdest people…”

“You're weird!” Megumi huffs with narrowed eyes, moving to make another hand sign, one fist on top of the other, then protests loudly when he’s interrupted, Toji tussling his spiky hair none too gently as he climbs out of the crater.

“Exactly my point, brat.” He stored the blade away inside of the gnarly worm that suddenly appeared to wrap around his torso and strode away leisurely. Yaga pinched the bridge of his nose, finally releasing the grip he had on Suguru’s shoulder, who wasted no time in hurrying over to his friend.

Toji breathed in deeply, stretching out his arms. Honestly, with the good weather and being handed the opportunity to beat the everloving shit out of an arrogant little twerp, it certainly put Toji in a better mood than when he first arrived. Maybe this trip hadn’t been for nothing after all. “You coming or what?”

Megumi glared back stubbornly, turning to stick his tongue out one last time down to the weirdo still laying in the crater, before running along after his father. Makes a grab for one of his larger hands and hangs off of it. Toji slows down the slightest amount, then swings the boy up to sit on top of his shoulders. Pleased, Megumi pets the worm like an old friend and rested his chin comfortably on top of his dad’s head, quietly enjoying how high he was off the ground. Toji continued the trek towards the school with ease, the pups following obediently at his heels.

“...Shoko, I leave him in your capable hands.” Yaga said, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he watched the first summons of the Ten Shadows technique dissipate, leaving behind only Satoru and tufts upon tufts of rabbit fur. He was slowly realizing that he’d have to add a few more important, student-sparing amendments to the contract he was writing up.

Shoko, her unbothered self having reemerged from wherever she skedaddled off to, gives a noncommittal hum as she leans over the crater with intrigue. Their sensei shook his head with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll get into more details about this arrangement later.” He tells her and Suguru, who he had had to hold back and give a short explanation so that the boy wouldn’t go jumping into the fray at the first signs of Satoru’s resounding loss. “Make sure he doesn’t go and do anything else foolish for today, will you?” He implores them both before following after the father-son pair.

“Oh wow.” Haibara gasped around a mouthful of popcorn. He clutched at the limited edition bucket and looked up at Megumi as Toji strolled past him and a wary Nanami, both of whom had returned just in time to catch the tailends of the fight. “I like your jacket! The ears on the hoodie are super cool!” Haibara smiles brightly, completely sincere as he always was. Megumi doesn’t reply, but his eyes sparkle before he shyly buries his face against the top of his father’s hair, kicking his feet.

Nanami can’t help but shudder a little when the man’s eyes lazily flicker over him, then Yu. Was that… approval that he just saw? He pulls Haibara along towards the rest of their friend group. Let their sensei deal with whatever the heck that all was.

Suguru frowned in thought as he watched the two and Yaga sensei depart, placing a hand on his hip. “...the new teacher, huh?” He muttered, returning his attention back to the crater his friend currently resided in. “Still alive down there, Satoru?” He calls out. His only response back was a pained wheeze.

“What the fuck.” Satoru croaked. “Suguru, avenge meee….”

Suguru slid down the side of the crater, crouching down next to his defeated friend. The drama queen laid it on thick too as he noticed his approach. Death throes, tongue out, glasses askew, hand clenched over his heart before closing his eyes and falling completely still.

Nanami walked over and toed Satoru’s leg like he’s stumbled upon unappealing roadkill, and it was impeding the path to his 9 to 5.

“Oh no, I think he’s dead.” The blonde remarked tonelessly, lacking any emotional gravitas that should come with the abruptness of his passing. Shoko shook her head with a small laugh before she crouched down as well, cig still between her teeth, hands glowing softly as she got to work.

“Really?! No way.” Haibara gasped. A finger pokes at his cheek, to which Satoru was valiantly ignoring along with the strong scent of movie theater butter. He was above such mortal discomforts, he didn’t need to throw up infinity for something so inconsequential. He was trying to do better, after finally making friends here at school. Satoru then struggles against the overwhelmingly strong desire to deck Suguru in the face as he joins in and does the same, jabbing none-too-gently to other areas of his weakened and vulnerable body, testing for rigor mortis or some bullshit. The prick.

“Oh, cool. Dibs on his GameBoy and eyeliner.” Shoko is and will always be there to rub salt into the wound. She made it look so effortless while doing it too, Suguru envied her a little bit in that respect.

Haibara sucks in a breath, an excited twinkle in his eyes at the prospect of free stuff. “So what about all of his Digimon- oh, wow, his hair’s softer than I thought…” He trails off distractedly, making full use of the rare opportunity to pet the white downy fluff. He’s always wanted to do that! Best day ever.

“All yours.” The other three responded in sync, flippant and given up without a fight. 

…Okay, how dare none of them see the value of his extensive collection, he worked hard putting his family fortune to good use!

Suguru snickered behind his hand as their friend squawked indignantly and scrambled to sit up. “Hell no, you keep all of your sticky fingers off of my shit- Suguru, shut up, you were supposed to jump that fucker at the first opportunity and back me up, you traitor!”

“Quit squirming, you big baby.” Shoko mumbles under her breath, not bothering to hide the amused smile on her lips. She’d already snapped photos at multiple angles of Gojo eating pavement earlier, and planned to send it off to Utahime later.

“Don’t worry, senpai! I promise to take good care of your Agimon plushie.” Haibara promises, his enthusiasm for the franchise the only one to come close to Satoru’s in their little friend group, but he was always innocently getting the names of the digimon slightly wrong, just subtlety enough to drive Satoru up a fucking wall.

“It’s Agumon! Agumon , you uncultured- eh, owowow Nanamin, I’m still tender, have mercy-” the teen yelped, scooting away from the affronting shoe. “How dare you treat your upperclassmen this way! The disrespect !”

Nanami was wholly unimpressed, shaking his head. “And I owe you none. Let this be a lesson for you. A little humility will do you some good.” A brutally humbling moment for Satoru would be a godsend, anything that was able to curb the reckless six-eye user was something the blonde could get behind. If that meant babysitting duty or whatever else they were going to deal with when it came to this new faculty member, so be it. Haibara looked more than on board with it, at least.

“More than a little, if we’re lucky.” Suguru could only hope. When Shoko gives the all clear, he offers his best friend a hand up, which Satoru readily takes despite the massive pout. It was the one that always ends with him caving and buying him sweets just to get him to stop. 

He’s risen from the dead- well, metaphorically - good as new and not worse for wear thanks to Shoko’s trusty RCT. Satoru’s eyes practically glowed, bright and alive, warming up to the prospect of an actual challenge. They glance off into the distance, honing in on where the strange pair had disappeared deeper into the school grounds, probably heading towards Yaga’s office. That brat definitely had Ten Shadows, which would make them…

With his ability, Satoru catches the moment the man lifts the boy a little higher on his shoulders, so that the kid could run his raised hand through the leaves of the overhanging tree branches that lined their path.

…

Well, he wasn’t about to go touching on any clan nonsense if that man wasn’t bringing it up first. More importantly…

 “...Think that crazy bastard would be up for a rematch later? Suguru, we could totally tag team him-”

Suguru took a page from Shoko’s book as he offered a bland, benign smile. “Nah, I’ll pass. Haibara, be sure to bring popcorn for the whole class next time.” He knew his limits, perhaps this would be the chance for Satoru to acknowledge his own and grow from them. He readjusts his friend's skewed glasses, settling them properly behind his ears. They’d be able to manage it together.

“Aye aye, sir!” Haibara cheerfully shouts, drowning out Satoru’s whining as the white-haired teen shamelessly hangs off of Suguru's shoulder. How he even finds it endearing is a mystery he'll delve into some other day.

One thing’s for sure, this was shaping up to be an interesting school year.