Transmigrated As Satoru's Father

Seijuro's breath hitched. 'Why now?' he thought.

Seijuro had always expected to cross paths with Toji Fushiguro eventually.

As the current head of the Gojo clan, it was practically inevitable. The notorious sorcerer killer was infamous for targeting high-profile sorcerers, and Seijuro knew his position would paint a large target on his back. But this encounter was far too early—earlier than he'd prepared for.

His mind raced as he assessed the situation. Satoru was only seven years old, still developing his cursed techniques and far from the unbeatable powerhouse he would become. This alone put them at a significant disadvantage.

And then there was an even bigger problem: Megumi Fushiguro hadn't even been born. Without Megumi as leverage—the child Toji would one day care for and, in his own twisted way, protect—Seijuro had no way to use Toji's paternal bond as a bargaining chip. That meant he could exploit no emotional tether to sway Toji's hand or negotiate.

Toji was a mercenary, and everything about him screamed practicality. Without Megumi, Seijuro had nothing to offer to make the sorcerer killer reconsider his mission.

'Great... no chips, no Satoru at full power, and no prep. This is bad,' Seijuro thought, gritting his teeth as he kept Satoru behind him protectively.

He would have to rely on his wits and whatever power he could muster—whether cursed energy or otherwise—to deal with the deadly man before him.

"Satoru, get out of here and take the cat with you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Also, get some help, would you? Quickly."

Satoru hesitated, clutching the kitten tighter in his small hands. "But Father—"

"No buts!" Seijuro cut him off sharply, though not unkindly. "Listen to me. You're not ready for this fight yet; I must protect you. I need you to be smart and do as I say."

Satoru hesitated momentarily, his young mind torn between his instinct to obey his father and his fear of leaving him behind. But the tone in Seijuro's voice made it clear—this wasn't a request. It was an order and one meant to protect him. Reluctantly, he nodded, taking a step back.

"I'll be back, Father," Satoru said, his voice trembling slightly.

Seijuro gave him a reassuring smile, though his focus never left Toji, who watched the exchange with mild amusement from the rooftop.

"I'll hold you to that," Seijuro replied. "Now go."

Satoru turned, clutching the kitten tightly as he sprinted away. His small figure disappeared into the shadows, heading back toward the Gojo compound for reinforcements.

Seijuro exhaled, his expression hardening as he turned his full attention back to Toji. 'Now it's just you and me, Toji.'

Seijuro kept his stance firm, his crimson eyes locked onto Toji's piercing green ones. "Toji Zenin," he said evenly, his tone calm but laced with underlying tension. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

He was certain of the timeline—Toji hadn't met his future wife yet, and Megumi wasn't even a thought in his mind. This meant that the man before him was still fully immersed in his mercenary lifestyle, unbound by any familial ties that could be used to sway him. That made him even more dangerous.

Toji raised an eyebrow, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Oh? The head of the Gojo clan knows about me? I'm honored," he said mockingly, his voice dripping with amusement.

Seijuro didn't flinch, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me," he continued, his tone sharper, "how much did your client pay you to assassinate me?"

Toji's grin widened, and he chuckled softly, the sound low and menacing. He crouched slightly, resting one arm on his knee as he sized Seijuro up, like a predator toying with its prey.

"Curious, are we?" he said, his voice smooth yet taunting. "Let's just say... enough to make me think it's worth my time."

Seijuro's muscles coiled like tightly wound springs as Toji's grin stretched wider, exuding a dangerous confidence born of countless battles. The man radiated an aura of ease, a predator who had perfected his craft. Despite his title as the head of the Gojo clan, Seijuro felt an icy tendril of fear creeping into his chest.

'I haven't trained enough for this... I barely know how to control Blue.'

But there was no room for hesitation. Satoru was running to safety, and it was up to him to hold Toji off, no matter the cost.

Toji tilted his head, mockery gleaming in his sharp green eyes. "What's the matter, Gojo? You look tense."

His voice was smooth and taunting, laced with the thrill of a hunter savoring the chase. Before Seijuro could respond, Toji vanished from the rooftop.

Fast! Seijuro's instincts flared as his eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement.

—Whoosh!

The air behind him shifted. Seijuro spun on his heel, adrenaline surging as he caught a glint of the Inverted Spear of Heaven slicing toward his side. His reflexes saved him from a fatal blow—he twisted just enough to avoid the brunt of the attack, but the blade grazed his robe, tearing through the fabric with ease. The sheer force of the strike sent him stumbling back, his breath hitching as he locked eyes with Toji, who pressed forward like an unstoppable force.

Toji moved brutally, grabbing the spear from where it had embedded itself in the wall. In a flash, he lunged again, the cursed tool slicing through the air with deadly precision.

"What's the matter, Gojo?" Toji sneered, his grin widening as he advanced. "Can't keep up?"

Seijuro's jaw clenched as he dodged another strike, sweat beading on his forehead. 'He thought I had to use Blue, willing his cursed energy to respond.'

He extended his hand, trying to focus on gathering energy, but before he could even begin, Toji disappeared from his sight again.

His instincts screamed, and he rolled to the side just as the Inverted Spear of Heaven slammed into the ground where he had been standing moments before. Dirt and debris scattered as the blade's impact made the earth tremor.

This is hard... Seijuro thought, gritting his teeth. Dodging Toji's relentless attacks while trying to summon cursed energy was proving nearly impossible. Every second he spent focusing on Blue gave Toji another opening, another chance to end the fight.

Across from him, Toji twirled the Inverted Spear of Heaven in his hands with casual grace, his grin never wavering. His movements were relaxed, almost lazy, as though he were toying with Seijuro.

He's playing with me, Seijuro realized, his narrowed eyes watching every flick of Toji's wrist. But beneath the fear, a flicker of resolve sparked. I need to find an opening. I need to fight smarter.

Seijuro steadied his breathing, his mind racing. Toji was faster, stronger, and more experienced, but Seijuro wouldn't give up. Not while Satoru needed him.

Seijuro's thoughts raced as he dodged another swipe of the Inverted Spear of Heaven.

'Should I try Aikido while I gather cursed energy?' The idea lingered, tempting yet dangerous. His breathing was heavy, but his mind remained sharp.

Aikido was a martial art designed to redirect an opponent's force rather than oppose it head-on. It emphasized fluid movements, balance, and the principle of using an aggressor's momentum against them.

It wasn't about strength—it was about precision and timing. Against an opponent as physically overwhelming as Toji, Aikido seemed like the only option to buy himself the time he desperately needed to gather cursed energy.

But doubt gnawed at him. Toji is faster and stronger.

'If my timing is even slightly off, he'll overpower me instantly.' he thought.

He tightened his grip on his resolve, watching as Toji spun the spear with a smug grin. The man practically radiating confidence toyed with him like a cat with its prey.

'This is risky...' Seijuro thought, his heart pounding.

He didn't have the luxury of waiting, though. If he didn't take the chance, there wouldn't be an opportunity to fight back. He steadied his stance, readying himself for the next assault.

'All or nothing... let's do this.' Seijuro thought.

Toji watched Seijuro intently. He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into a grin. I'm expecting more, he thought, his mind flashing back to when he first took this job.

When Toji accepted the task of assassinating Seijuro Gojo, he had expected a fight worth his time—a clash with someone capable of pushing him to his limits. But the man standing before him was struggling to keep up, barely dodging attacks, and most tellingly, not even using cursed techniques.

'Does he not know how to channel his energy?' Toji wondered.

Yet, he kept grinning. Deep down, the thrill of toying with a sorcerer like Seijuro, a Gojo no less, scratched an itch he rarely acknowledged. For Toji, this wasn't just about the money—it was a defiance of the system he hated. His cursed energy-less body, branded as a failure by the Zen'in clan, had been cast aside like trash.

Fighting and defeating a Gojo—a symbol of power and superiority in the world of sorcery—was his way of proving that the system didn't define him.

But there was something else, buried beneath the thrill: a faint, bitter ache. He hated them all—sorcerers, their clans, their traditions. Yet, a small part of him wanted them to be stronger, wanted a challenge that would make him feel like this fight was worth it.

'Where's the massive blue laser from yesterday?' he thought, his grin widening as he crouched slightly. 'Don't disappoint me, Gojo.'

Without warning, Toji disappeared, and his speed was nearly impossible to track. Seijuro tensed, his muscles coiling as his eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings for the next strike.

'Stay calm...' Seijuro thought, his heart pounding.

His instincts screamed at him to move, but he held his ground, keeping his guard up.

A faint rustle.

Seijuro's senses sharpened, and instantly, he noticed a shadow flicker behind him. His blood ran cold.

"Now!" Seijuro shouted, spinning on his heel.

Seijuro executed an Aikido maneuver with precision born of desperation, using Toji's momentum against him. Grabbing the man's arm, he redirected the force of the attack, sending Toji hurtling toward the nearby wall.

Toji's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but his grin returned almost instantly.

Using the very momentum Seijuro had redirected, he twisted his body midair and landed gracefully against the wall, his feet planting firmly as if he'd planned it all along.

Without missing a beat, he launched himself back at Seijuro like a coiled spring, his leg arcing toward him in a devastating kick.

Too fast!

-BAM!

Toji's foot connected squarely with Seijuro's chest, the force of the kick sending him flying. Air and blood burst from Seijuro's lungs as the impact knocked the wind out of him. The sheer strength behind the blow was overwhelming, and pain radiated through his torso.

Seijuro crashed into the far end of the dark alleyway, skidding to a stop against the cold, unforgiving ground. His vision blurred, the world's edges fading as he struggled to stay conscious.

'This... hurts...' he thought, his body refusing to respond.

His chest heaved as he tried to pull in the air, but the searing pain made it feel like he was suffocating. Darkness crept into the corners of his sight, threatening to consume him entirely.

'I... can't... lose...' Seijuro's thoughts were scattered, his resolve wavering.

But deep down, he knew one thing: he couldn't give up. Not with Satoru depending on him.