"They can see the past and they can see the future. Do you want to know how?"

Everything around Gojo became unnaturally still as he focused his full attention on the not-child with the shimmering white hair that held in such a tightly controlled mass of cursed energy. As if his eyes had already been upgraded, he suddenly saw it for what it truly was—a paradox that carried within itself the past, the present, and the future. It was a gate to time.

Imagine

He felt his heartbeat slow to a crawl.

The power I'd have…

After the day he'd cheated death, when the veil between the worlds had parted for a fleeting moment and he had reawakened as the master of infinity, it had taken months for his mind to adjust to the dance of atoms and cursed energy around him again. To look at the world through the unrestricted Six Eyes was like staring into a cosmic engine, each atom a cog in an infinite machine. The initial onslaught of information had been a maelstrom, threatening to drown his sanity. It had taken even more months until the relentless unveiling had no longer made his eyes feel raw and bleeding or his head pound like it was caught in a gigantic piston.

Gojo Satoru had emerged from these trials as the Strongest sorcerer of this era. And yet… in the many years since, the bitter insight was that all this power was not enough. People he cared for still suffered and died. Curses still spawned all over Japan, nastier and stronger than ever. Their society was still ruled by conservative misogynists with a feudal mindset.

Transcending the boundaries of time itself would finally give him the means to change it all.

The world would be laid bare before him, a chessboard where he was the only king. With this new vision, he would anticipate every move, every counter, every twist of fate. He would anticipate the emergence of strong curses and proactively seal or eliminate them before they became major threats. By understanding the origins of cursed objects, he could prevent their creation or secure them before they fell into the wrong hands. He could save countless lives. And then there were the mysteries of the past: To witness the birth of cursed energy in the Nara era, to understand the origins of the Six Eyes, to unravel the secrets of what those sorcerers had been capable of…

"Don't do it."

It was not a suggestion, it was a command. Gojo felt a jarring sensation like he had taken a fall from a great height. His surroundings snapped into focus: the guest room, Utahime's concerned gaze.

"Don't do it," she repeated even more forcefully, using her powers of song in a futile attempt to sway him, "nobody should see the past and the future."

He mulled over that statement briefly because at the very least, he owed her that. Did the Cursed Object look amused or was he just imagining it? Truth was, Michizane had him dangling from a hook. First he had revealed an outrageous plot by the "Four Friends" to beat mortality, then he offered to teach him how to use the Six Eyes to their full potential? It smelled like a set-up. And yet, he had to take the offer.

"You're wrong," he countered Utahime's plea. Her lips formed a thin line, nostrils flaring, but he interrupted her next eruption. "If I had this power before, Geto would still live," Gojo declared to prove a point.

Perhaps it was the wrong example though. Was he confident enough he could have prevented his friend's descent into hell with foresight? Would he have been able to spend more time with him? Would they have continued going on missions together? Would he have been able to argue with him until he saw reason…? Anyway, if Geto hadn't gone rogue, there would not have been a Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. Yuta would not have gone to Africa. And… and?

He wasn't sure where this thought-train was going. The world would be different, but would it be better?

"I would have foreseen Toji Fushiguro's attack and prevented the tragic assassination of Riko Amanai," he tried again. If the Chains of Fate had not been broken that day, they'd be living their predetermined destinies now… would that be a good thing though? Somehow, he doubted it.

Gojo frowned. It was a bit of a paradox: If he had known Toji could break the Chains of Fate and free them all, he would not have wanted to prevent it. But that meant dying and that meant an assassinated Riko Amanai.

"Chia wouldn't have become a pawn in the Zen'in game," finally something he felt confident about! Her children would still be alive too. He wouldn't have met a Cursed Object who looked like his cousin's daughter Mayu. And… It wouldn't have offered him new powers.

Gojo's frown deepened. Imagining alternate timelines was rather complicated. Clearly, minute changes had potentially huge consequences. But if he gained the ability to see the future, he'd know all about those consequences too, wouldn't he? Would he… act at all, he wondered?!

"I wouldn't have taken you to Michinzane's shrine last year," he blurted out, but damn… he regretted saying it the second the words left his mouth. Would that not mean that Utahime would still be as distant and uninterested in him as she had always been? No, that couldn't be! He'd have found a way, surely, ages ago to make her love him?

"Stop it," Utahime interjected vehemently at that point. "However many could-have-beens and would-have-beens you list, I don't want you to acquire such powers! The price is much too high!"

"Is it?" Gojo questioned the Cursed Object.

"No," it replied, its tone flat. "Of course not."

It was likely lying. There needed to be balance in the world, always. If Gojo gained this much power, something else would inevitably gain power too to counter it. Or… he would have to pay a high price.

"I'll lose you," Utahime whispered, her voice trembling, obviously coming to a similar conclusion. "Can't you see?"

"No," he insisted despite his own doubts, shaking his head vigorously to dispel them. "That's impossible. We are connected through a strong Binding Vow after all."

Despair crept into her eyes, a surrender to the inevitable. "There's no guarantee it will endure," she objected.

"We'll make it endure," he moved closer, vowing silently that he would. "Listen. You do not have to fear that what happened between Gojos and Ioris in the past has any bearing on our current situation. I have it from good authority that the Chains of Fate were broken. Our future is in our own hands, like I said it would be."

"I'm not sure that's true," Utahime swallowed, "everything that happened since last year feels very much like destiny to me…?"

"Because we have chosen to forge new ties," he said gently, his hand reaching for her cheek to stroke it, "our Binding Vow has reconnected our fates for good."

He had to believe it and he wanted it to be so.

He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers as he told her everything he had just learned in his dream. "It is this Kenjaku person you have to be extra wary of," he ended his tale. "He is a body-hopper. No idea what he looks like right now. Only that he is very old and very determined."

Instead of calming Utahime down, the newly gained knowledge about the Four Friends who were trying to cheat death through different means, agitated her further.

"It was him who sullied me, wasn't it?"

"It seems so, yes," Gojo nodded. "And I will make him pay."

When he had demanded an inquiry from the Higher-Ups, he had known they would eventually refuse: Too much was at stake for all of them because were they not all guilty? Their refusal was a blessing in disguise. Now, with concrete proof of Kenjaku's involvement in Utahime's ordeal, he was free to act without constraint.

"Be careful," she warned.

Gojo reached out and took her hand. "I need this power to stop the four of them."

In the end, it was that easy. Sukuna's fingers—he'd know where they were and he might understand how to destroy them, and with them, the King of Curses. He'd know whose body Kenjaku was possessing. He'd understand Michizane's ploy. And he could finally get access to Master Tengen, who stubbornly refused to talk to him.

"Why does it feel to me like you're saying goodbye?" Utahime's hand grasped his wrist.

Goodbye? No, he wasn't going anywhere. Was he? He squeezed her hand, trying to convey the depth of his reassurance. "I'm not going anywhere, Utahime," he said, his voice firm. "I promise. But I have to do this."

Yet, even as he spoke, a shiver ran down his spine. A premonition, perhaps, or just a bodily reaction to the adrenaline that was beginning to course through his bloodstream. It felt like he was going to a battle. He pulled her closer, suddenly desperate to feel her softness against him.

"How could I ever leave you," he murmured.

"Let's make love," Utahime urged.

For a second, he thought he had misunderstood. Then, his ears started flaming. "But…," he stammered. "Shoko said… and I should be at the wake…," but who was he trying to fool, he didn't want to be the reasonable one any longer, he was already growing painfully hard.

"I don't care," Utahime's eyes took on a very determined glint. "It's my body and I need you to thoroughly cleanse my womb from that disgusting thing that grew inside of me."

Kenjaku tried to stop me by poisoning the last Iori's womb, the dream apparition had said. What if he should try again? I will make it mine, Gojo's possessive brain growled. I will prevent any other living being from staking a claim.

"Do you…. do want to make a baby?" He whispered hoarsely. Ours. A child that is ours.

"You go to the bathroom, close the door and don't come out until we fetch you," Utahime addressed the Cursed Object with sharp authority. It obeyed without even a backwards glance.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she turned to Gojo, her eyes were huge, her skin flushed. "Yes," she inhaled deeply before continuing, "I want to make a baby."

###

Gojo's skin was pale, almost translucent in the dim light, his expression serene. Utahime reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered, tracing the familiar lines of his face, his closed eyelids, the thick silver lashes.

"You are such an idiot," she whispered tenderly.

Cocky until the end. Excitable and childish. Protective and fierce. Vulnerable because he feared loneliness, deliriously happy because she returned his feelings for her. Only now she fully understood that they were in the midst of a war, a battle against an unseen enemy. Sacrifices were an inevitable part of war. She would not buckle. She would endure.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead, a silent promise. A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her cheek. She wiped it away, before reaching for her phone. The cold metal felt strange against her trembling hand. She dialed the number, careful to speak in a strong and steady voice: "Nanami? It's Utahime. You need to come. As fast as you can."

A sharp intake of breath, but Nanami was the most steadfast of them all, he never wavered. "What happened, Utahime Senpai?"

"It's Gojo. He's…"

Not dead. He cannot be. He promised he wouldn't leave me.

Gojo held the child against his chest with an iron grip, the knuckles of his hands, with their long, elegant fingers, white.

"...we need to safeguard his body," Utahime managed to say without breaking down in tears. "There's something, someone who is almost certainly going to come for it."

"I am not sure I understand what you are saying but I'm on my way. You're still at the Estate?"

It would take a few hours for him to get here from Tokyo. Had Nanami been told of Chia's death? Utahime wondered. Probably not. Should she send him a message to lessen the shock? Yes, she should. Oh, and what was she going to tell Gojos aunts…? They were surely waiting for him to come and pray for the dead, but he would not be returning. Aunt Kimiko would have to preside over the mourning rites, Chia had been her daughter-in-law after all. Better tell her to pray for Mayu's soul too, Utahime thought as she began to type difficult messages on her phone, there is no way we can continue to lie about her condition. Mayu was dead, her soul was no longer inhabiting her body. And there was Hiroshi, the historian, who would turn up at the gates soon, finding the estate transformed into a place of mourning overnight. Should she tell him to stay away? Or could she ask Ema to keep an eye on him again…

Utahime moved mechanically, packing a small bag as if on autopilot. Her mind raced, trying to sort through all the things that needed doing. What about the Higher-Ups? They couldn't find out about this situation! If they, including the Zen'ins, got wind of Gojo's vulnerable state, they would exploit it immediately. And if Kenjaku found out what had happened before she had a chance to secure Gojo's body…

Finally, the weight of it all became too much.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the bed next to Gojo's unmoving, cold form, the harsh reality of their situation crashing down upon her. Every inch of her ached, a fiery testament to their mind-blowing passion. Part of her had hoped that if she managed to show him the depth of her love, he would change his mind. She had given herself to him body and soul tonight, receiving his heart on a platter in return. But despite the mutual, desperate desire to create something beautiful, something enduring together, despite the passion that was a tempest, a raw and undeniable force, a chilling clarity persisted. He would not change his mind. He simply couldn't. Ancient evil was afoot. She didn't need to see the future to know that it needed to be stopped at all cost.

That's who you are, Gojo Satoru. I finally know you fully.

A cold determination settled in her heart. She curled up beside him, instinctively seeking warmth where there was none. She loved Gojo Satoru with a fierceness she had not imagined possible.

"I am going to protect you," she whispered. "Do you hear me, Satoru? Wherever you are, whenever you'll return, you will be safe."

###

The Tombs of the Star Corridor was a place of eerie tranquility, a subterranean labyrinth carved deeply into the earth's core. Old, everything radiated, powerful.

"His shrine is somewhere down there," Shoko whispered, gesturing at the dark passage before them. "I hear there's a gigantic tree…? And he lives… inside of it?"

Earlier in the day, Utahime and Nanami had left the Gojo estate in Kyoto unseen by others with Aunt Narumi's help. Stoically, Gojo's black-clad relative had vowed to deflect all questions about their whereabouts for as long as it took. Prayers would be spoken for them too. Upon arrival at Tokyo Jujutsu High a few hours later, they had ferried Gojo and the cursed object to Shoko's lab.

"I doubt that he's dead," Shoko had declared after examining him. "Even if he seems to be. I think you'd have to cut off his head, he told me that himself once." Then her gaze had drifted to the strange object seemingly glued to him. "And that…thing," she'd murmured, her voice filled with a scientist's morbid curiosity. "Is a Cursed Object you say?"

Clearly, Shoko was ready to die for a chance to examine it too, but they had no time. Utahime had told her what she had told Nanami as well: That this "child" had offered Gojo godlike powers and being who he was, Gojo had accepted. As soon as they had linked hands, Gojo had said "I see" with a kind of wonder, had pulled the Cursed Object close to his chest and had fallen into a deathlike trance.

Utahime had also told the two about The Four Friends and the threat named Kenjaku. That they had to go see Master Tengen about this seemed like a foregone conclusion. Only that none of them had ever attempted to gain access to him or had been invited to an audience.

The entrance to the Tombs of the Star Corridor was protected by a barrier that manipulated over one thousand shuffling doors, only one of which was connected to the pathway leading to the tombs. That they had gained entry meant that they were welcome, right? Utahime suppressed a shudder: Some people had gone down, only to come up again days later, completely exhausted, but none the wiser. Master Tengen's shrine was protected by another barrier that was known to often refuse entry even to those who had been personally invited, for unknown reasons.

"Let's go," Utahime said with far more confidence than she possessed, her unhushed voice sounding so obscenely loud in the large chamber it made her flinch. As they stepped forward into the passage, cold, damp air enveloped them. Nanami, with practiced efficiency, guided the wheelchair, its wheels clicking rhythmically on the stone floor. Gojo's lifeless form was strapped to it, the Cursed Object cuddled against him, looking just as peaceful as him.

Nanami's face was etched with determination, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. Utahime had seen how badly the news of Chia's death had shaken him, but she felt unable to lessen his grief and guilt.

"I will avenge her," he had vowed, his voice a cold whisper in the confined space of the car, his knuckles white as bone on the steering wheel. After Utahime had told him that Gojo's cousins were actively plotting the Zen'in clan's financial ruin, his anger turned into a cold, calculating fury. His own experience in the financial world would be a weapon in their arsenal, he had vowed.

"Thank you," Utahime felt compelled to touch his arm briefly, grateful for his readiness to lend a helping hand whenever she called. His nod was a silent affirmation of camaraderie and friendship and it warmed her to her core that the Jujutsu world had such fine sorcerers fighting for it.

They descended deeper and deeper into the earth through twisting corridors, the world above fading into obscurity as flickering torchlight cast long, wavering shadows along the walls. Finally, they reached the bottom. Before them lay a vast chamber, its center dominated by a colossal, treelike structure.

Master Tengen stood at its base expecting them, a solitary male figure dwarfed by the thick tree. Clad in flowing white robes, he appeared a little lost and almost spectral in the vastness of the chamber. His head, an elongated cylinder adorned with four milky white eyes, made him look more like a cursed spirit than a human. Yet, despite his uncanny appearance, Utahime was relieved to find an aura of benevolence emanating from him.

He gestured for them to come closer. "Welcome," his voice rumbled softly, like tree branches rubbing together, "four friends."

Her heart in her throat, Utahime bowed deeply.

"We met before," Master Tengen said. "But you might not remember."

"I do," Utahime replied. He had to be referring to their meeting in Michizane's domain expansion, only that he had been a beautiful woman back then who had turned Sukuna's and Kenjaku's heads, yet she recognized his essence.

"I taught them," Tengen sighed, stepping in front of Gojo to peer at him closely. "And I taunted them, challenging them to become better than me. What reckless fancy."

"Please protect him," Utahime pleaded with him, "please don't let Kenjaku have him!"

Tengen straightened his back, turning his eerie eyes on her. "Hmmm," he hummed. "No."

Ice-cold dread flooded her heart. "But…"

"No," Tengen repeated with finality. "It will end here. The winner is Michizane no Sugawara!" He chuckled to himself for a while after this strange declaration before turning his attention back to them. "Place him here," he commanded, indicating a large stone altar behind him.

Together, they carefully lifted Gojo's body from the wheelchair and maneuvered it onto the slab. The Cursed Object, still clutched in his grip, continued to rest against his chest.

"I brought the Six Eyes into existence to assure that the Star Plasma Vessel and I can merge when the time comes," Master Tengen explained calmly as he extended a gnarled hand and placed it gently on Gojo's head. Utahime lunged forward, but Tengen's gaze stopped her in her tracks. There was a depth of sorrow in his ancient eyes that quelled her fears.

"I mean him no harm," he said softly. "Come, lie beside him."

Nanami's eyes narrowed. "What will happen to her?" he demanded, his voice laced with suspicion.

Tengen ignored the question, his attention focused on Gojo. "Michizane no Sugawara was a promising young man, the brightest star of his generation. He accepted my gift of the Six Eyes for himself and his bloodline without hesitation. But..." A long pause filled the cavern as he seemed to drift into a distant memory.

Utahime forced herself to obey, lying down beside Gojo. The stone was ice-cold against her back. Far above, the tree's branches seemed to disappear into the infinite darkness of the cavern.

"...he too needed to willingly pay a price high enough for such an increase in power. And what he chose… was to let go of his wife and of his unborn son. Ah…" Master Tengen sighed deeply. "It was an adequate price, but he was such a fool. His wife and unborn child died shortly after and he mourned them for the rest of his life."

Utahime's eyes filled with tears. How could he? No wonder she cursed him.

"Yes," Master Tengen nodded, as if he had heard her thoughts spoken aloud. "She cursed him. For breaking the binding vow between them, your ancestor vowed that any relations between her and his bloodline would be doomed and that all of his heirs would have to endure great heartache because of it. He worked all his life and far beyond it to find a way to break the curse."

Master Tengen lifted his hand and a barrier formed around the altar, so black and solid that Utahime could no longer see the cave and her friends, only hear their frightened exclamations and Master Tengen's quiet voice.

"When you promised him a child, you ended his suffering. Even a cunning truth-lie was enough to establish a bond between you. Thanks to you, he has brought his unborn son into the world. And now we wait."