Chapter Text
To be fair to myself, I was only fourteen when I wrote that stupid fic. Said piece of beautiful literature didn’t even have paragraphs! It was like an overwhelming splurge of words on a page, and that is not to mention its horrid grammar. Horrific, is the only word that could be used to describe for the aforementioned fan fiction. I was in a rather pick-me, misogynistic, e-girl, time in my life and I desperately hated anything to do with not conforming to a mans ideas. I was miserable and had shown that quite well with the sentences I put on paper.
The plot revolved around the main character of popular manga and anime Jujustu Kaisen. Following an overpowered Yuji Itadori, and his adventures of defiling and ‘bitching’ the other characters present within the series, all before he inevitably settled down with childhood sweetheart Naoya Zenin. Great!
You may have suspected for the childhood sweetheart to actually be Megumi Fushiguro, however, I was a notorious Megumi hater. Potential man was a topic I spread like wildfire when it first came out on twitter. I had a fan page on TikTok dedicated to power scaling various anime also, and one of my most notorious takes that I do heavily regret was; Naoya Zenin could win against Sailor moon. From that, I suppose you can assume what kind of grotesque fourteen-year-old-girl I was.
A toxic Naruto power-scaler who uses verse-equalliasation as an excuse to give Chakra benefits and any other power-system de-buffs? Yes absolutely.
A “but can they beat Goku though” warrior? Definitely, even though I grew up watching Sailor moon and know she smashes most shounen verses. Male validation really gave a great high.
A Naoya defender who refused to admit how creepy he is? In my defence, the only time I have seen my only Japanese friend laugh is when reading his chapters.
A woman hater who refused to see how any female character could defeat a basic shounen MC? Yeah, that was I.
I do regret this behaviour, and since turning seventeen I have made significant personal effort to reshape my thinking.
I no longer refer to Sakura Haruno as trash, and am able to see how saying things like “Boa Hancock would be better as a maternal figure to Luffy, like Robin” is harmful rhetoric, and incredibly misogynistic. I now have actually watched Naruto and see that it really is its nostalgia factor, that created such avid fans who push the anime, which prolong its relevance. In a surprising turn of events, it took me longer to watch Naruto shippuden than both read and watch One piece. How strange?
It is this amongst many other things; like learning to stop villainising women; seeing how my double standards are preventing making other girlfriends; hating characters like Naoya, Sukuna, and Geto; and understanding that the average magical girl does in fact dominate.
Which seemed to have paid off, until I transmigrated into my own stupid fan fiction.
As Tsumiki Fushiguro.
Did I mention that my Fushiguro family write-off was that after Toji’s near death, he moved to the United States? I did not state where, and initially assumed that my three stars on Wattpad also thought that they would have just moved around from place-to-place, like I assumed. As it turns out, Toji and his two children ended up permanently staying in Atlanta, Georgia.
I may have also forgotten to mention that this specific fan fiction, was an Omegaverse one.
So yes, I am certainly fucked.
Currently, I am a ten-year-old-girl attempting to translate the words of some poor social worker as my new father, Toji Fushiguro, as he scratches his balls. Rather unappealing, however, the lady social worker staring up in awe at my newest parent would probably disagree. It is not often you come across a 6’5, 200 pound, hunk of a Japanese man.
Toji did not question my prior knowledge of the English language, most likely relating to the unspecified race of my mother, and had quickly understood that I was to lead us around, while he pushed Megumi’s stroller instead. Eventually - after Toji and the unnamed social worker had fled into a seperate room for almost an hour - we had all walked out the establishment with three brand new social security numbers and an approved visa. Knowing my new Fathers previous track record, and my own existence, he would soon secure a green card too.
Now that my latest family has been safely relocated - into a peeling, steel grey, Toyota corolla - I believe it is safe to inform you all of a few pieces of necessary information. You may be wondering, why do I not hate this development?
The answer is simple. I never had a Father in my first life, or a sibling, or even a mother. It was me and my grandparents against the world, my grandparents who passed away the day before I turned fifteen. Eager aunts and uncles swooped in with lawyers to de-inherit me in the will, and the only thing I had left was a rental property in my name. Nowhere to live, and the opportunity for any higher form of education rendered void with a lack of funds and talent.
Out of pure spite I moved out-of-state and into my cousins room in his fraternity. Profiting off dealing hard drugs to college students three years older than me and the tenants living within my rented complex. During this time I had albeit forgotten about my anime opinions, having sold my PC for access to powdered horse tranquillisers. The drying process I always enjoyed, but the smell of the PCP always roused the men my cousin lived with. As I spent more time in that place, that fraternity, I began to acquaint the blurb and blibble of boiling liquid with being interrupted by confused twenty-year-old men. White boys and their attraction to hard drugs are just so typical. As soon as the pots reached a rolling boil, I would - with no doubt - hear the thumping of two or so hungry boys at the door. As if I was their big sister preparing them a glass of warm milk.
I made enough to move into a place of my own in only two months, with the help of my cousins Accounting degree.
Anyways, enough about my past-self, my latest Father has found a new place of stay for us.
We rolled up to an unattractive complex of stick-like, brick apartments pushed against one-another - somewhere along an avenue named Glenwood. The cars parked out front matched our corolla, and I found that Megumi quite enjoyed staring at the rims on each wheel, while Toji parked the car. Memi’s pudgy fingers pressed up against misty windows, as he shuffled out of my lap, I could not resist squishing his chubby cheeks.
The time it took for us to unpack was less than an hour, which can be credited to the fact that we each shared only one suitcase of belongings. Toji carried the suit case, stroller, an unassuming duffle-bag, and a small bag of snacks we bought at the airport - while I carried Memi. My baby brother would giggle and squeak at every fifth step, and pointed excitedly at the small holes we passed embedded into the walls. Toji grunted as he forced the door open, the missing sound of jangling keys now becoming a forefront in my head, and then promptly began shoving Memi and I inside.
He slammed the door shut and dropped our luggage, Memi jumped at the sound, I held my baby brother closer. My goal as of right now was only to keep this better addition to my family safe. Toji then turned his head to me as he begun to speak, with clear instructions.
“Do not leave, I will be back. And most importantly - Do. Not. Touch. This. Door.”
Toji pulled - out of the duffle bag - both a collapsible piece of steel which he lent against the apartment entrance, and then another suspiciously large, rectangular box alongside it. He lined the steel against the frame and then laid the rectangular box next to my feet.
“Latch this here,” he pointed to a large metal cam-buckle strop. He continued, motioning towards a metal hook in the wall, and then to unlock the suspicious box at my feet, “and if someone does comes to the door, take this out - here I’ll show you, its only a nine so your arm won’t break under the pressure, but you will feel it.”
He pulled out what I assume was a Glock, with a faded and numbered paper falling off the cool metal, labeled “19”. He clasped the box shut again, but not before I was able to make out the other similar rifle shapes within. Roughly, he jostled with the magazine, and retrieved an even smaller box with the word “Poongsan” inscribed in small writing in the cardboard case from seemingly nowhere. As he pushed the clips into the magazine and I set Megumi down to play with our shared suitcase - as Toji continued his impromptu lesson on guns to his ten-year-old step-daughter, me.
“I will load it, so you will not need to worry about that. But, make sure you do not pull this trigger unless you are sure,” he then looked directly at me, and then to the toddler waddling at my feet. There was no need however, as the moment we got off the plane here, I understood my purpose here. “Stay always a metre away from the door, but pressed against the side here…” he moved to the wall beside the door, before kneeling to my height, “…and when they come, you press it here,” against the door, with an outstretched hand, “and pull the trigger.”
“Okay, Jiji.” Was my only response, I guess -by his look of contemplation - Toji was shocked by this development. He has yet to be called father, as Memi is still around two - or three, I can’t remember all too well. I know he was significantly aged -down in my fanfic, due to a commenter raising questions about Yuji’s time spent traveling abroad after an argument with his second omega, Sukuna Ryoumen. Yes, my problem aide was not to specify the countries Yuji had visited, but to explain that the entire Zenin Clan had been aged down. It did workout however, as it explained why Naoya was only twenty-two to Yuji’s sixteen.
“Oi brat!” My train of thought was interrupted by Toji, who was shouting at the toddler pulling at his wushu pants. “I’m leaving now, stay here with your sister. It ain’t home, but it’s still bigger,” he lifted Memi up like a scruffed kitten, “We’ll get a proper place soon, this is just a placeholder.”
Toji was right however, my memories of Tsumiki’s lacklustre childhood, showed me the poor state we lived in. As a previous American myself, the size of our average apartments in the home country was still jarring. Not necessarily squished-in, as we lacked furniture and appliances, but the sheer size of our kitchenette rivalled that of an average American bathroom. It worked though, as a ten-year-old girl with a toddler to take care of, we didn’t require much space in the first place. It did have its pitfalls however, like when Toji was home, due to us all sleeping on a futon in the only bedroom. Toji is a big man, and he would knock and stumble through any of our past homes, and he took up all the space - my mind does not fail to supply me with the many times Toji has near-suffocated Memi and I - by forgetting that we were under fire of his large body.
Sniff, sniff - came the sound of my toddler brother attempting to ease his cries, and I very much cooed at the little wave he gave to Toji as the man closed the door behind him.
“I’ll be back in an hour, the iPad’s in the front pocket.” Was our parting words, potentially for the last time.
Toji left behind most of our luggage, except his duffle bag, and the small envelope the lady at the SSA office gave us. I contemplated the idea of him leaving and never coming back, going to get the milk for example, but ruled that idea out - as its impressive Toji even brought us with him in the first place. As I breakout the Taki’s to feed Megumi while he doodles on the dusty floor, why don’t I fill you all in on some things?
Now, you may be wondering, why has Toji not forgotten us? Well, the answer is quite simple really - he never forgot us. In fact, I would be willing to bet we are the only thing on his mind most of his time. From the vague, misty memories that Tsumiki has acquired, I believe that Toji merely put up a front when interacting with Mr. Shiu. Mr. Shiu would often visit us regardless of Toji being home, but to my now Father - us being in his head was not what he wanted. When on missions Father would always come home first, partly to retrieve his instruments, but also to kiss Megumi’s forehead goodbye. Subsequently, Toji always knew that there could be a time he may not return. An in this universe that I wrote - the interaction with now Alpha Gojo Satoru - was a breaking point in my father’s mind.
So no, Toji never did forget us, but a small part of his mind would section us off, allowing him to continue his mindless slaughter at will.
Next, the mothers of it all. I remember much of Tsumiki’s mother, but sadly, Megumi’s mother passed before I could meet her. It is through Tsumiki’s memories that I learnt that Toji and Tsumiki’s mother - Haruka - had actually came to an agreement. Toji would provide monetary, and Haruka would mind the children. Originally it was assumed that Haruka had left the Fushiguro family for a freer life, but remembering the bleak day Tsumiki woke up to only her brother, something else happened. Megumi was a constant attraction for cursed spirits, and one day - when Haruka had left to purchase groceries, taking a small amount of their savings from the freezer - she just never came back. Later that week, when Toji would return, he would soon locate her body. At least that was what Tsumiki (the original) had gathered, when he returned with her Mother’s cross-necklace covered in dried, reeking blood.
In this alternate universe, Megumi does not have the ten shadows technique, as my stupid past-self gave that to Naoya (I am so sorry). But, this left more of a gaping hole in Megumi’s cursed energy. From what Toji’s last phone-call with Mr. Shiu specified, now Megumi has an incredible amount of cursed energy. Understanding from the manga, what used to be Megumi’s technique - is now like a great black hole.
Toji had multiple elderly Zenin women exiled with a promise of the necessary finances, and in return, they would use their knowledge to examine Megumi’s cursed energy. Years of outside exposure showed with Toji, and his understanding that - though heavily suppressed - Zenin women were not idiots. They lived and breathed monitoring the skill level of their children, male and female, and got away with much more than is let on. A son would always cover for their mother, Zenin or not. There is a reason so many Zenin men disappear - a simple excuse of being to weak is usually the explanation. Arrogant men never question who they suppress and have failed many times due to it, it is only a matter of time before one of their oppressed seeks revenge.
It was the third and final lady Toji managed to sequester from the main annex that had answers for him. Simply put, Megumi has an endless pool of cursed energy, and an unfathomable cursed technique. She would then inform Toji that Megumi has too much cursed energy, and without his curse technique developing now, Megumi would either do one of these things; A) Explode and die; B) Go through a Gojo Satoru level awakening; or B) need a cursed entity host (like that of Sukuna, or Yorozu) to deplete his reserves for around a month. It is safe to say none of these options were viable to Toji.
However, this last lady had a recommendation for Toji, being that she did produce Naoya, her time within the clan gave her a plethora of connections. One of which happened to be a Nigerian witch, who she contacted with great fervor at Toji’s expense. Apparently, Lady Zenin ended up moving in with her much later. Toji had the witch relocated to Japan momentarily, while she worked. Her proposal for fixing his son was to simply, split his soul. As if he were a twin like Toji. But Megumi did not have a twin. What he did have, was an over-eager big sister.
Tsumiki didn’t die, she is still here with me. Toji, rightfully so, cared more about Megumi’s well-being than that of his then nine-year-old step-daughter. So, when the women gave him two options; one to have split Megumi in two halves like Toji and his brother but with one body; or to siphon Megumi’s reserves to another host, who would then need to be split in two. That is how I figured out I was brought here. Tsumiki is a kind, young girl - and is happy to have us here together. The process took eight weeks of on-and-off sessions and constant tantrums from Megumi (he was like one). But it was executed well, and as a result, Toji gave the witch and Lady Zenin just short of fifty-three million yen together - that he got from robbing some corrupt politician.
And so, I found myself in this predicament. Inside a ten-year-old girl, helping to mind both her toddler step-brother, and incredibly cynical step-father. An interesting development for s-
“Miki? Wan’ milky.” Came from the cutest ity-witsy baby in the world! Breaking my thoughts as his Taki crumbed fingers rubbing against the rubber case on his iPad, while he nudged his head against mine.
“Yes? Warm or cold? I’ll put the water on now.” I responded, well… we did. There are two of us here now. We must remember to be careful, Toji’s tutorial to enforce our body with cursed energy led to many accidents on our travels. Accidentally breaking doors, windows, and the occasional baggage carousel.
Blurb, blibble, blurb. Went the boiling pot of water, as I fished out the baby formula from the grocery bag. Megumi lying on the small neck pillow Toji left in the suitcase.
Thump! Rang the sound of someone pushing on the main door. BAM! BAM! The person on the other side started to knock, heavily. Quickly, I pulled Megumi underneath the sink, handing him the cooling baby bottle and his iPad. One hundred millilitres of liquid and Wanwan (from Inai Inai Baa!) that will hopefully distract him from my next actions.
Rushing towards the position Toji instructed, on the way grabbing the Glock from its place on the counter. I pushed the suitcase in front of the sink cabinet I put Megumi in, as the assailant began to bang more aggressively against the wood separating Megumi and I, and safety.
BAM! BAM!
Blood pressure spiking at an all-time high, I pointed the gun jack-knife at the door, aware that I would need to imbed the cursed energy into my wrist to prevent it from snapping under the drawback. BANG! Went the door hinges, the steel frame I clasped after Toji left paying off. An hour, I just need to last an hour until Toji would hopefully return. Never one to keep his word - but I would need to rely on it if I wanted to prevent my ten-year-old surely beta host, and young probably omegan, toddler brother from being assaulted. Grim, but I would never underestimate the limits of the silent, but no doubt Alpha, harassing our front door.
It has already been forty-five or so min-
BAM!
-I just need to last a little longer, I don’t want to kill someone so early in my exposure to this world. Tsumiki doesn’t need this blood on her hands, not this early in her life. Maybe if I hide? No that won’t work, Father said don’t move, and he of all people would know just what to do. Shuffle, shuffle. My ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the other side of the wall. But there was still someone pressing against the door? Two, there are two assailants? I can’t shoot them both…
BOOM!
Again, went the door. They’re persistent, they must have been tracking us. They probably waited for Toji to be out of range for interruption (or flash-step), based on the timing of their attack. This means they must be from Japan, but not within the world of Jujustu - as they would have focused on Toji and not his supposedly cursed-energy-less kids. Hired by that shady politician Toji robbed no doubt. An idiotic idea, is that of following the sorcerer killer to east Atlanta, only to go after his children. Definitely a move taken by a corrupt politician. A politician who has no idea his wife and children will be beheaded in the coming months.
The bangs drowned out, as both hired muscle seemed to retreat. This is good, I can gain my bearings and check on Megu-
BOOM! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The walls practically hummed as the two came back in full force. The door is well broken, and the steel is struggling for its life to keep the wood standing. It has only been five minutes - ten before Toji should be back. I can already tell Megumi’s getting scared, and I need to open the cabinet so he can get some fresh air. He won’t last ten minutes, I need to end this now. This isn’t Japan anymore, the hired muscle will have guns, I just need to shoot them first. Paid too much to run away they are, I need to eradicate this threat, and then move somewhere much safer.
BANG!
The steel is starting to bend, but I have already made my final decision. Moving away from the spot, no doubt a moving shadow the two hired muscle can see. Until just vertical from the door, peering right into the crack being forced open. They are both pressing against it, but I can only see one’s head. Based on the shadows, there’s a high chance the other person’s head is behind this one. If I’m lucky, I can get both with one bullet.
I pull back the slide of the now loaded gun-
BAM!
-lifting it with both hands towards eye-level.
BANG!
My shoulders jump at the escalating noise level of the banging, but my hands don’t waver. Squinting one eye - I need perfect aim, at perfect angle. The heads of these men will role, just like my two uncle's heads did.
Before I went to prison.
POP!
I opened fire. Shooting at heads like a bowling ball to pins.
POP!
A second time.