"Where the hell have you been for a whole week?!"
Tsumiki stood in the doorway of their tiny apartment, her eyes red-rimmed and tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Mom and Dad already abandoned me... and if you left too..." Her voice broke completely, dissolving into heavy, hiccuping sobs.
Megumi looked at her small, trembling frame and let out a quiet sigh. As much as he hated emotional drama, he wasn't a complete monster.
"Alright, you stupid girl, why are you crying?"
He stepped forward, opened his arms, and pulled her into a firm, tight bear hug.
Tsumiki froze for a split second before burying her face into his shoulder, crying even harder.
Megumi patted her back gently, his dark eyes sharpening with cold, absolute confidence. "Don't worry. From now on, nobody in this damn world can hurt you anymore."
Tsumiki sniffled, clutching his jacket tightly. "Promise... promise you won't leave me like that again, Brother."
"Yeah, yeah, I promise," Megumi lied smoothly. He'd probably have to pop out for more world-ending errands in the future, but she didn't need to know that right now. "Come on, stop wiping your nose on my shirt. Get your bag, I'll drop you off at school."
Tsumiki quickly wiped her tears, grabbed her school backpack, and followed him out the door. But after walking a few steps down the street, she paused, noticing something off.
"Wait... what do you mean 'drop me off'?" She squinted at him suspiciously. "Aren't you coming to class?"
"Nope," Megumi replied, hands shoved lazily into his pockets. "Starting today, I'm officially retiring from elementary school."
"What?!" Tsumiki shrieked, almost dropping her bag. "How can you just quit school?! Who drops out at six years old?!"
"Me," Megumi said plainly. "Keep your voice down. You're making a scene."
"Megumi, you can't just—"
"Anyway," he interrupted casually, "did you hear that Toji Fushiguro died two days ago?"
Tsumiki froze mid-rant.
To be completely honest, she didn't really have any fond memories of her step-father. Toji was barely ever home, never acted like a real parent, and mostly treated their apartment like a free motel between gambling benders. She didn't feel a drop of sadness over his death.
However, as a young girl who understood their living situation, panic instantly seized her chest. Toji was their only financial provider.
"What... what do you mean he's dead?!" she stammered, her eyes wide. "If he's dead, then how are we going to pay rent?! How are we going to buy food?!"
"He's dead as a doornail. Got packed up in Tokyo," Megumi said, completely unbothered. "Anyway, don't stress your small head over it. Just focus on your studies and try not to get bullied. I'm here. I'll take care of the money and the rent."
He gave her a light shove toward the school gates. "Go on, get inside."
Still in a state of total shock, Tsumiki mechanically walked into the schoolyard, turning back twice to look at him like he had grown a second head.
After watching Tsumiki safely enter her classroom, Megumi turned on his heel and walked away, humming a random tune under his breath.
His mind was already running through his future checklist.
First item on the list: avoid getting adopted by Satoru Gojo at all costs.
In the original timeline, Gojo took Megumi under his wing after killing Toji. But why the hell would Megumi want an overly loud, sugar-addicted, unpredictable teenager as a foster dad?
Pass, Megumi thought. I don't need a babysitter. I'm already stacked.
Second item on the list: deal with the Zenin Clan.
"If I remember correctly, those old bastards value brute strength above everything else," Megumi muttered under his breath, a cold smirk touching his lips. "Well, I'm officially the first person in the entire history of the Zenin clan to successfully tame Mahoraga. They shouldn't have any objections if I take over as Clan Head right now... even if I'm only six."
Just as he turned down a narrow, desolate side street surrounded by high concrete walls, Megumi's ears twitched.
He stopped mid-stride.
Without turning around, he leaned back casually against the brick wall and crossed his arms. "You guys can stop sneaking around now. Your stealth is absolute trash."
Silence fell for a moment, followed by the rustle of dark fabric.
From the rooftops and the shadows at the end of the alley, three figures dropped silently to the pavement. They wore dark, traditional martial arts robes, carrying concealed blades at their waists. Their eyes were sharp, arrogant, and cold.
"Impressive perception for a six-year-old," the lead sorcerer remarked, eyeing Megumi up and down. "A kid who inherited the Ten Shadows Technique really can't be underestimated."
Megumi raised an eyebrow. "And you guys are?"
"We are members of the Hei—the elite enforcement unit of the Zenin Clan," the leader declared proudly. "We've been sent to bring you back to the main estate."
Megumi tilted his head. "Oh? If I go back with you, can I become the Clan Head?"
The three Hei members blinked, surprised by the bold question, before the leader let out a gruff chuckle. "Heh. No problem at all, kid. Once you complete years of rigorous training and prove your worth to the elders, you'll definitely inherit the leadership position. Strength rules the Zenin family."
It wasn't a lie. The Zenin clan was an intensely misogynistic, power-obsessed family, but if a male sorcerer possessed overwhelming power and a prized inherited technique, he could practically do whatever he wanted.
"Training?" Megumi scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Who said anything about waiting for training? I want to become the Clan Head now."
The three sorcerers stared at him in disbelief.
"What?" The leader frowned, his tone sharpening. "Are you out of your mind, brat? You're six years old! Stop talking nonsense and come quietly—"
"Oh my~ Am I interrupting something important?"
A light, annoyingly cheerful voice cut through the heavy atmosphere from the entrance of the alleyway.
Everyone turned their heads.
Standing at the mouth of the street was a tall teenager with spiky, snow-white hair, wearing a dark Jujutsu High uniform and round black sunglasses. He was casually twirling a set of keys on his index finger, a cocky grin plastered across his face.
Satoru Gojo. Freshly awakened after his near-death rematch with Toji Fushiguro just two days prior.
The Zenin Hei leader instantly tensed up, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. "Gojo Satoru! I warn you, this is internal Zenin family business! Stay out of this!"
Gojo stopped twirling his keys, his grin turning slightly mocking. "Family business? That's funny. When Toji Fushiguro almost put a hole through my throat two days ago, you old bastards swore up and down that he had nothing to do with the Zenin clan anymore. If he wasn't your family then, why is his son suddenly your business now?"
"That bastard was a disgrace who abandoned the clan!" the leader snapped, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "His son carries our inherited bloodline!"
"Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture," Gojo waved his hand dismissively, stepping right into the alley.
Despite outnumbering him three to one, none of the Zenin Hei members dared to move a single muscle. The sheer, suffocating pressure radiating off the sixteen-year-old white-haired boy kept them glued to the pavement. They could only watch in silent terror as Gojo casually strolled right past them, heading straight for Megumi.
Gojo stopped a few feet away from the six-year-old boy. His sunglasses slipped down his nose slightly, revealing piercing, sky-blue eyes as he examined Megumi's face.
"You're Fushiguro Megumi, right?" Gojo muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he recognized the striking facial resemblance to the deadbeat mercenary who had almost ended his life.
Megumi stared back with deadpan eyes. "Whoever the hell you are, leave me alone and piss off."
Gojo chuckled, completely unfazed by the attitude. "Now how can I do that? I made a promise to your dear old dad before he kicked the bucket."
Gojo raised his hand, casually reaching out to grab Megumi by the top of his head. "So like it or not, kid, you're coming with—"
GRAB!
Gojo's hand abruptly stopped an inch away from Megumi's hair.
Not because of his Limitless Infinity barrier.
A massive, pure white, heavily muscular hand had emerged directly from the dense shadow beneath Megumi's boots and clamped onto Gojo's wrist like a vise made of solid titanium.
Gojo's cocky smile instantly vanished.
His mind blanked for a split second.
Slowly, agonizingly, Gojo turned his head upward.
Towering directly behind the tiny six-year-old boy was a ten-foot-tall, pale white humanoid monster. An eight-spoked wheel floated ominously behind its head as it stared down at Gojo with cold, absolute authority.
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