"This is the past," a soft, lilting voice declared.

Gojo's gaze snapped to a small boy seated across from him. The child was perhaps four, with hair like spun snow framing a remarkably handsome face. Large, brown eyes, like molten caramel, regarded him steadily. Himself, Gojo found seated at a low table, clothed in a splendid indigo kimono with gold threads. Atop his head, his touch confirmed, sat a black scholar's cap, an eboshi.

"Is this another one of those weird ass dreams?" he demanded, turning from side to side to check his surroundings. Remarkable how real this one felt…?

They were at his estate, which looked spiffy and new and smelled faintly of polishing oils and drying paint. Cedar trees lined the carefully raked paths of the sprawling garden, their branches rustling softly in the mountain breeze. A few crickets chirped hesitantly. The morning was cool, but the sun, peeking over the main house, promised a swift ascent in temperature.

A soft gust of wind carried strands of his long hair across his face, and with it came a discomforting shiver. Gojo lifted his hands in front of his eyes, examining them with a growing sense of unease. They were his, undoubtedly, yet felt as if they belonged to someone else.

"What is happening?" Gojo frowned.

"Do not be concerned," the boy reached out a tiny hand. Gojo took it, marveling at its delicate perfection and how it seemed to vanish within his own. "Come," the child urged. "It's this way."

They walked across the wooden veranda. The soft clinking of porcelain and hushed voices drifted from within the house.

"Who are you?" Gojo asked the little boy and added "What's your name?" when his first question was met by apparent puzzlement.

"Mayu?" The child answered but it sounded more like a question than an answer.

"Isn't that a girl's name?" Gojo mocked him with a grin but the boy only looked at him again with big, confused eyes.

As they stepped into the house through the wide open door, their feet tapping quietly on the tatami mats, a woman poked her head out of a room further down the corridor, her smile as warm as the morning sun.

"Here you are!" She greeted him, affection evident in her voice. "Come and have some tea?"

Gojo's heart swelled with a fierce, protective love. Utahime! Her laughter was the music to his soul, her touch a flame that ignited his world. She was the reason he got up in the morning, she was the reason he hurried home after being summoned to court. She was his anchor in the tumultuous waves of court politics, she was his inspiration, his muse, the woman who made his life complete.

"What is it?" She smiled. "You look like you've seen a divine apparition."

Yes, because he was looking at one! He still couldn't believe that he had managed to make this wonderful woman his wife. It was all worth it – her father's fury, the Taira's relentless demands for compensation, Emperor Uda's reprimand… there wasn't a rule too sacred he wouldn't have broken to have her.

His heart swelled. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of a thousand lifetimes. He had accomplished so much in his relatively short life, and yet, the greatest victory was simply being by her side.

"I know," she replied, her smile deepening into a radiant glow. Coyly, she reached up to tuck a stray strand of raven-black hair behind her ear.

Desire laced through him. It only took such a little gesture to set him aflame. Utahime's face glowed with a radiance that rivaled the scarlet silks of her kimono. Her pregnancy, though still in its early stages, added a dreamy softness to her features, a maternal grace that seemed to belong there.

"I love you," he repeated with fervor, his voice low and husky. "I want you."

He slid the door shut behind them resolutely, blocking out the world. His gaze devoured her, taking in every curve, every soft line, growing hard underneath his robes.

"Michizane," she gasped and blushed endearingly as he sank on his knees before her. "We can't…"

"We can do whatever we want," he nudged her neck with his nose, greedily inhaling her gentle yuzu and jasmine scent. "This is my house and you are my wife."

He interrupted the shuddering intake of her breath with his mouth. Her lips were moist and yielding and he lost no time, slipping his tongue between them, turning the kiss into a carnal and heady foreplay that made him stiffen to full length. When she began to pant and squirm, he parted the fabric of her garment with his hands, slipping it off her shoulders to bare her perfectly round, juicy breasts.

"Ah," he sighed at the sight of them and began to suckle on her nipples until she squirmed even more. They had already become a little plumper, a little softer. He might become jealous of his son who would drink milk from these marvels every day.

He moved his hand up her leg, finding her with no undergarments and slick with wetness. The mewling, needy noise she made when he slipped a finger into her made his cock twitch. Sometimes, she made him so horny he thought he might spill himself into his pants like a boy. He inserted a second finger and moved them in and out with an easy, leisurely rhythm until she began to rock against his hand, panting frantically, seeking her release.

If anything, her pregnancy had enhanced her sexual appetites further. What a lucky man he was.

Really, the Gods must be smiling upon him, she had become pregnant after their very first assignation. Had her father even had a choice after that? He was a reasonable man, having a Sugawara as a son-in-law was just as good if not better than marrying into the Taira Clan, whose influence, so the rumors, was declining, while his was undoubtedly on the rise.

The memory of their first night together made him half-frantic with lust. Too shy to show her face, she had offered her virginal honor to him on all fours, skirts hitched up, naked backside in the air. He would never forget the tight heat of her that night, the unspeakable pleasure she had given him when he had pierced her virginity. Deflowering a shrine maiden, the legends said, brought three hundred years of luck if her virginity was offered willingly - and eternal damnation when it was taken against her will.

Her orgasm shook her, her walls clenching around him in wave after wave. He pulled out his dripping fingers, then his hot, heavy cock and smeared her juices all over it. Gah, a few more pumps and he'd spill himself all over her already!

"Don't hold back," she winked rosy-cheeked, turning around into a position on her hands and knees. "I want you to fill me up completely."

His breath wanted to stop when she slowly pulled up her robes and exposed her wet little pussy to him.

"Utahime," he groaned and hastened to oblige her, sliding in deeply and easily with a helpless grunt, the warm tightness gripping him like a vice. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back to see the rapture on her face.

"Yes," she moaned, her eyelids fluttering. "Harder!"

Not needing any more encouragement, he began to plunge in and out, grunting and panting, soon slamming into her mindless like an animal, good, so good, so good, she was so small and shapely, her screams made him even bigger, even harder, he was going to explode any minute now and it would be glorious.

She came apart around him when he pressed his thumb into her pink butthole and he reached his own climax, pumped his seed into her seeing stars until he was spent literally and completely and slumped down on the floor with her.

"The servants will be scandalized," she whispered with a giggle. The walls were thin and they did not know how to be quiet. "Do you think they will tell others about it?"

"Let the whole world know we enjoy fucking each other," he said, feeling very content and a little sleepy. "Why keep this happiness a secret? I'd put ten children into you at the same time if I could. Twenty! Thirty!"

She giggled again and her hand went to his balls and his cock to play with them. Heavens, he already wanted her again. And he wanted to write poetry about her and her body. Something like: When the pink plum swells with summer's kiss, how it glistens! Let me taste your sweetness, as fresh as first bloom.

"When are your friends coming?" She asked.

Ah, his friends. How could he have forgotten when so much was at stake? They were fabulous Jujutsu sorcerers, even better than him. All three were older, more daring. This afternoon, they would visit and had promised to talk about time manipulation, a topic he was very eager to learn more about. Immortality. Who wouldn't want it?

To be with you forever and ever… I'd do anything. His heart swelled with love again—but a lump of inexplicable sadness formed in his throat at the same time. Oh, sweet plum—though the hand that once tended you is distant like a fading dream, do not lose the rich taste of the earth that made you bloom.

"Who or what is Utahime?" Nobukiko asked.

"Hmmmm?" He swallowed the lump away, taking a strand of her hair between his fingers, willing himself into the here and now and his thoughts away from death, loss, and despair.

"You said 'Utahime' before you entered me. Who is that?" Nobukiko snuggled closer. "I hope you don't keep secrets from me, my husband?"

She wasn't serious. There could be no doubt about his devotion for her and no doubt about the power of the Binding Vow between them: Eternal Guardianship, Unbreakable Truth, Undying Loyalty, and Balanced Harmony. Breaking the vow or any of its components would erode their strength and spirit, binding their souls in perpetual conflict. Together they were strong.

"I could never," Michizane assured her, seeking her lips with his own. Who was Utahime? Someone very familiar, someone I don't know at all, someone far, far away and yet very near and dear.

One day, he would meet her. And when I do, things will be alright.

"This is the future," a soft, lilting voice declared.

Gojo's gaze snapped to a small boy seated in front of him on the rooftop. The child was perhaps four, with hair like spun snow framing a remarkably handsome face. Large, brown eyes, like molten caramel, regarded him steadily.

"Are you my son?" Gojo asked, feeling utterly confused, because he knew this child, didn't he? Like… really well!

"I don't call you Papa yet," the child turned his head away shyly, his cheeks growing red.

"Uh, you can if you want?" Gojo offered but suddenly felt shy as well.

All around them was the ruined city of Shinjuku, once a bustling metropolis of neon lights and vibrant life, now a desolate wasteland of shattered glass and twisted metal, a stark reminder of the cursed spirits' rampage after the Shibuya Incident. A heavy feeling came over him. This was the future? It looked like the end of the world!

"Do not be concerned," the boy reached out a tiny hand. Gojo took it, marveling at its delicate perfection and how well it fit into his own. "Come," the child urged. "It's this way."

"I'd like to get to know you," Gojo told the boy somewhat fiercely as they walked across the rooftop, with gray rain clouds gathering above them. A sense of urgency had gripped him, as if time was running out and he had forgotten something absolutely crucial. Was Utahime somewhere nearby? He thought he felt her presence, distant yet distinct, a subtle brilliance that stood out against the backdrop of chaotic energies.

"That's up to you," the boy said and pointed at a distant figure who seemed to be waiting for them.

"Sukuna," Gojo whispered. Another wave of confusion washed over him. Had he not just drank tea with this guy at his estate, with… Stupid, he chided himself. Why would you have memories of the Heian period? Why would I drink tea with the likes of Sukuna?!

The enemy of humanity had the appearance of Megumi Fushiguro, but the double eyes, the tattoos and the menacing aura were his own. He wore a black haori with a white kimono and black undershirt, tied together with a black belt, white pants, and black sandals. All of this made Gojo's blood boil.

"Finally," Sukuna taunted him with a sneer. "Did you get a little lost, Michizane's puny offspring?"

"I will kill you," Gojo vowed solemnly, but Sukuna only laughed condescendingly.

"He was the weakest of us all," he bellowed, "so eager, so greedy, yet just not good enough."

"I'm not him," Gojo answered, gritting his teeth.

Sukuna should never have been allowed to awaken. If only Gojo had found all of his fingers before it was too late! If only he hadn't let Geto's body be snatched by Kenjaku! You failed, a grave voice in his head said. All that power, and for what?

"Let's do this," Sukuna grinned.

The clash of their might was a cataclysm, tearing through the tattered city—a testament to the horrific, inhuman power that had no place in a world where normal humans lived. Gojo's Blue sent Sukuna crashing through a building. Seizing the opportunity, Gojo shattered a walkway bridge, hurling the wreckage at Sukuna, but the Heian era sorcerer skillfully evaded the debris and escaped to the rooftops. Quickly closing the distance, he brought himself within range to unleash Dismantle. With a single slash, Sukuna cleaved a tall building in half, using domain amplification to engage Gojo mid-air. Moments later, the entire structure was obliterated.

"You'll be blamed for all the damage," Gojo quipped, pleased to note he wasn't out of breath yet. "I'll make sure it's you who picks up the bill."

"Really?" Sukuna replied, unfazed. "People are watching, you know. It's very apparent you're not blameless."

Unlimited Void and Malevolent Shrine clashed violently. The result of their simultaneous release, Gojo realized, was overlapping guaranteed-hits within his own barrier. They were equally matched, everything was hanging in the balance. But then…

Slash!

His neck exploded in pain and a shower of blood. He was hit! Sukuna had managed to tear apart his barrier from the outside!

No biggie (though really?! Gojo had never fought anyone remotely this skilled before), Gojo easily healed himself with reverse cursed technique. But he had a bigger problem—one he couldn't easily shrug off. As long as he remained within range of Sukuna's domain, the relentless slashes continued, each one a searing pain cutting through him. And with his Limitless currently depleted and recharging, he couldn't teleport himself out of danger.

Gojo pushed his reverse cursed technique to its absolute limit, forcing his body to heal faster than it was being torn apart.

What a fucking effort.

Determined to create distance, Gojo dashed away, but Sukuna was relentless, immediately blocking his path. Fine, Gojo thought, switching tactics and engaging Sukuna in hand-to-hand combat. His strikes were precise and calculated, and he nearly landed a direct hit on Sukuna.

"Impressive," Sukuna snarled, a grudging respect in his voice.

"Watch me," Gojo grinned, seizing the moment. He quickly activated a simple domain, buying himself precious seconds to heal his wounds. But Sukuna wasn't one to be stalled for long; he shattered the domain, forcing Gojo to activate it again. And again. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Gojo used Blue to close the gap between them in an instant. Before Sukuna could react, Gojo wrapped his legs around him, catching him completely off guard. Without hesitation, he unleashed Cursed Technique Reversal: Red at point-blank range, the force of the blast sending Sukuna crashing into the shrine with explosive power.

The battle intensified as Sukuna pushed Malevolent Shrine to its absolute limit, expanding its reach to its maximum range. In response, Gojo unleashed Unlimited Void once more, but this time, he fortified his domain's defenses, making it significantly more resistant to Sukuna's relentless external assaults. In response, Sukuna invoked a binding vow, sacrificing the precision of his can't-miss attacks within the domain for more devastating slashes on the exterior. The air crackled with the intensity of their clash, but this time, Gojo was ready: He countered Sukuna's onslaught, skillfully deflecting the deadly slashes while restoring his technique.

Then, in a bold and calculated move, Gojo drastically shrunk his domain to the size of a small sports ball, exponentially increasing its density and resistance to Sukuna's attacks. Yeah, so being trapped in the Prison Realm had its perks after all: It had taught Gojo some pretty neat new tricks. Normally, the idea of a domain that could shrink down to such an incredibly small size while still containing both the caster and their opponent was unheard of. But his rather "unique" experience in that confined space had given him the insight and skill to manipulate his domain in this way.

Feeling cocky wasn't very smart, but it was hard not to be when the fight was going this well. The two domains shattered simultaneously after three intense minutes, and Gojo had managed to deal substantial damage to Sukuna, leaving him unable to maintain his domain.

Push, push, push!

When his nose started bleeding a little later, Gojo paid it no mind. He was winning, wasn't he? Being just 0.01 seconds faster was enough to stagger Sukuna, and in that moment, Gojo crushed Sukuna's heart with a devastating blow. Determined to push Sukuna to the brink, he resolved not just to crush his opponent's heart, but to destroy his lungs and liver as well.

But just as Gojo rushed to finish the fight, Mahoraga was suddenly summoned within the domain to shield Sukuna.

What the fuck…?

Though he had wondered why Sukuna had not used Megumi's Ten Shadows Technique yet, Gojo was taken aback; he couldn't fathom the timing of Mahoraga's appearance when the shikigami hadn't yet had a chance to adapt! Gojo unleashed Red, aiming to obliterate the shadow creature in a single blow, but Mahoraga countered, driving the Sword of Extermination into the ground. To Gojo's shock, the entire domain collapsed around them.

"Surprised?" Sukuna grinned, his face smeared with blood, as he quickly healed the gaping wound in his chest. Mahoraga retreated into his shadow, lurking and ready to strike again. "I'll tell you how I did it, young one so that you can learn from the greatest. Your Unlimited Void's effect hit me five times, but I wasn't the one who took the brunt of it. The one who bore it for Mahoraga to adapt… was Megumi's soul."

Gojo smirked, masking the unease creeping up on him. "You're trying really hard," he taunted, but the reality was sinking in fast. This was bad. He had very limited time before Mahoraga adapted to his Infinity too, and if that happened… it'd be GojOver.

For dramatic effect, blood started to pour more profusely from Gojo's nose now. It wasn't much of a surprise, given that he'd been frying the part of his brain where his innate technique was inscribed, only to heal it straight away with reverse cursed technique.

It was go all out or go down.

In a final, desperate move, Gojo launched Red into the sky, merging it with Blue to create the devastating Purple. The explosion was cataclysmic, disintegrating Mahoraga and leaving Sukuna severely injured, his body scorched and battered. The battlefield, once filled with the sounds of their clash, fell eerily silent as the dust settled.

A surge of high adrenaline laced through him - It was victory…!

A searing pain tore through Gojo, splitting him in two. He stared in disbelief as his legs stood before him, quivering slightly on the hard, wet ground, disconnected from his upper body.

I once dreamed about this! Gojo remembered, that's really fucked up.

Gojo wanted to laugh, to brush off the impossibility of it all, but there wasn't enough life left in him. Mahoraga had adapted to Infinity after all, and in that final, devastating moment, Sukuna had unleashed a world-slashing attack, cleaving Gojo in half. The battle was lost. He had lost. How embarrassing.

It's up to you guys now, Gojo thought, his students' faces appearing before his eyes, you will defeat him, I know you will.

The last thing he felt was regret. Funny. He had always been certain it would be loneliness.

Utahime, will you at least miss me? I wish I could have spent more time with you. I wish you had looked at me more often. I wish I had told you how I felt. I wish you had believed me. I wish we could live forever.

"This is the present," a soft, lilting voice declared.

Gojo recognized the voice as the child's, but this time, he couldn't move. He also couldn't see, but he could feel and smell. Utahime was near! I'm not dead, he thought triumphantly, I'm not dead yet! What a relief!

A soft, rumbling voice spoke somewhere to his right. "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..." In the pause that followed, Utahime's presence drew nearer and finally settled right next to him, warming him with her body's heat. Ah, how much he wished to be able to hug her close!

"...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…" the rumbling voice who, Gojo could easily guess, belonged to 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."

What?! Michizane, you idiot, Gojo groaned inwardly, you broke the Binding Vow? No wonder you were so pissed off all the time!

"Yes," Master Tengen continued, as if he had heard his thoughts spoken aloud. "And on top of that, his first wife cursed him. Utahime Iori's ancestor vowed that any relations between her and your 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 did something that made someone else—Nanami? Shoko?—call out in alarm. Something that felt like a big, wet blanket formed all around them—a barrier.

"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."

That sounded ominous and Gojo didn't like it at all, this talk about a bond between his ancestor and his Utahime.

"Do not be concerned," the child put his tiny, slightly sticky, warm hand into Gojo's. "Come," it urged. "It's this way."

"Hey, I can't move," Gojo protested.

"Silly you," the child giggled. "You have the true power of the Six Eyes, don't you?"

Ah, yes, that… Had he actually agreed to that bargain? It seemed like a terribly stupid thing to do when all he wanted was to live a good life with Utahime and their…

"We made a baby!" He exclaimed with great agitation, "you cannot take me away, she needs me!"

"The future hasn't happened yet," the child intoned solemnly, "but you're about to ruin it again."

With a Herculean effort, Gojo forced himself to sit up, finding himself in a cavernous chamber dominated by a colossal, tree-like structure. Utahime lay beside him on a stone altar, beautiful and brave, while Master Tengen stood nearby, his four milky white eyes fixed on the scene.

"I'm back!" Gojo proclaimed, but his voice was lost in the silence, and his body remained sprawled on the cold stone, the child nestled against his chest.

"Shit," he muttered, looking down on himself from above the altar. Was he... a ghost?

"Come," the child urged again, "we don't have much time."

Okay, fine. Since he couldn't figure out how to move by himself, Gojo let himself be dragged along by the ghost-presence of a ghost-child, his not-stomach doing an unpleasant flip and bounce as they were sucked into a vortex that felt unnervingly like his Unlimited Void—only far less comforting.

"Here," the child said, a little out of breath, and Gojo felt a sharp kick, as if someone had nailed his butt with a boot. Suddenly, he was back in a body—a familiar, powerful one.

"Hooray," he murmured, brushing back his long white hair and adjusting the silly black hat that had a habit of sliding off.

He found himself sitting at a table with Master Tengen (in a woman's body—how interesting), Sukuna (oddly normal-looking, not like the monstrous freak he would become), and Kenjaku (in what he assumed was his true form—definitely ugly). They were drinking expensive tea, though Sukuna and Kenjaku seemed more focused on trying, and failing, to impress Master Tengen in her current form.

"There are 4 Types of Reincarnation through which one enters the cycle of rebirth," Tengen said, her eyes glowing with an inner fire. "Karmic, purposive, transcendental, and vengeful reincarnation. Each of us will choose one of these paths. Each of us will be bound to one other who aids us and two others who thwart us. The fabric of Jujutsu Sorcery demands balance."

The air around them grew still, heavy with a sense of inevitability, as if the universe itself was listening.

"Balance," Tengen repeated, her voice soft but charged with intensity. "It is the eternal dance of light and dark, of creation and destruction. In every life, in every choice, we play our part in this cosmic design. Whether we rise or fall, whether we are saviors or destroyers, the cycle continues, unbroken."

Gojo, oddly calm in this surreal setting, took another sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through him. He blinked lazily into the sunlight, the unusual quiet in front of his eyes utterly delightful.

"I don't have the Six Eyes yet, do I," he mused aloud, as if discussing something as trivial as the weather.

Tengen, her gaze steady and inscrutable, tilted her head slightly. "No," she replied, her tone even, "but you can have them."

The Six Eyes were a gift, a curse, a responsibility that extended far beyond personal gain. They were a key to a door that once opened, could never be closed again. Gojo looked down at his reflection in the tea, the surface rippling slightly with each breath.

He lifted his gaze back to Tengen, his hand trembling slightly as he placed the tea cup back on the table. "What's the price?" he asked, because there always was one and this one had to be very high.

Tengen's eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. "The highest."

"What does that mean?" Gojo asked quietly, though he already knew the answer.

"To take the Six Eyes, you must let go of everything that anchors you to this world. Your wife, your unborn child—they would be lost to you. You would become more than human, but at the cost of what is dearest to you now."

Gojo's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he felt the true weight of Tengen's words, the reality of what was being asked of him. A life of power, of purpose, of immortality. but one devoid of the love and connection he had found with Utahime?

"I can't do that," he whispered, the words barely audible, but heavy with conviction. "I can't give them up."

Tengen's eyes softened with something that might have been pity. "Then you have made your choice. The Six Eyes will remain beyond your reach. You will never reach the pinnacle. You will never be the greatest."

The tension in Gojo's chest began to ease, replaced by a clarity that he hadn't felt in a long time. He knew what he wanted, what truly mattered.

"I choose them," he said, more firmly now. "I choose her. I choose our child."

Tengen nodded. "Then go to them, Gojo Satoru. Live your life, and when the time comes, face your battles as you are, not as what you could have been."