Let's start with the basics: I'm a reincarnator.
I was born into a perfectly normal family, lived a perfectly normal student life, and had perfectly normal hobbies. I was just an average guy. My interests were games, anime, manga, and movies—basically, I was a casual nerd who lived for entertainment and didn't care much for anything else.
And then… one day on my way home, right after buying a copy of Jump at the convenience store, I was pedaling my bike, looking like a total idiot wondering what would happen in the next chapter of my favorite manga, when a car suddenly plowed into me. My body was turned into mincemeat, and I died.
There wasn't any pain. I think I died instantly, which I guess was a small mercy. I don't even remember the moment of impact. All I remember are headlights suddenly flooding my vision, and the realization that I was about to be roadkill.
And so, having died like that… I woke up as a child.
A woman was holding me, and men dressed in kimonos were surrounding us, staring down at me. Can you imagine the pressure? Multiple strange men looming over you while a strange woman holds you tight. To be honest, it was terrifying. Pure horror.
Naturally, I cried. I opened my mouth and wailed. Looking back, I think crying then was the best thing I could have done; it kept anyone from suspecting that something was "off" with me.
That was how I was born into this world as Meguru Zenin.
Yes, Zenin. That Zenin family. The moment I heard the name, everything clicked. I realized with a sinking feeling: Oh, I'm in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.
From that point on, it was a desperate struggle for survival.
First, I had to figure out the era. I needed to know what year it was and what the political landscape looked like. As a toddler, I couldn't exactly go around flipping through history books or wandering the grounds, so I just talked to every adult I could find to squeeze out information.
The result? I found out the current ruler was Emperor Kanmu.
My heart sank. Great. It's the Heian period. Which means Sukuna is here.
Back in my old life, Jujutsu Kaisen had made me interested in Heian-era folklore, so I happened to know the Emperor's name. That bit of trivia saved me—though it also plunged me into total despair.
From then on, "desperate" didn't even cover it. I was working myself to the bone. Being a Zenin meant training started early, which, looking back, gave me the head start I needed. They checked if I could see cursed spirits, then checked for an innate technique.
That was when I manifested the Ten Shadows Technique.
A lot of drama followed that discovery, but let's set that aside for now. The real problem came later. I sought power with a single-minded obsession because I knew that in this Heian era, the chances of running into Sukuna were incredibly high. If I wasn't strong, I was dead.
Because of that drive—or maybe because of my misfortune—I was already being sent out to exorcise cursed spirits by the time I was ten. I thought I was going to die every single day. There were so many times the Ten Shadows was the only thing that kept me alive. My daily life was a literal hell.
The reports were never accurate, which only made things worse. A "Grade 3" mission would turn out to be Grade 2; a Grade 2 would turn out to be a Special Grade. It was madness. I vividly remember the first time I encountered a spirit that could expand its Domain. If I hadn't mastered Falling Blossom Emotion and Simple Domain, I would have been dead twice over.
If there was one silver lining, it was that my immediate family was relatively "sane" by Zenin standards. Since it was the Heian period, misogyny was the norm, but at least my father didn't abuse my mother or the servants. My younger brother, for some reason, grew up with a personality exactly like Rengoku from Demon Slayer.
Since I didn't have to worry about my family stabbing me in the back or assassinating me, I threw everything into my training. My old man would constantly nag me about finding a wife, and my best friend—the Six Eyesuser of that era—would ask why I didn't want kids. I always gave them vague excuses, telling them I'd just end up dying early and leaving a widow behind.
In the end, I hate to say I was right. After all, Sukuna did end up killing me.
It was shortly after I had risked my life to tame Mahoraga. Sukuna appeared, and the sorcerers of the Heian era—the "Golden Age"—prepared to face him with everything we had.
I decided to go in first, alone.
It was the same strategy Satoru Gojo and the others would try in the future. If I won, great. If I lost, the goal was to weaken Sukuna as much as possible for the next person in line. That was the only plan I could come up with.
Naturally, my family and my best friend were dead set against it. They told me I was throwing my life away and that we should all attack at once. But I couldn't accept that. I knew what Sukuna's Domain was—an open barrier, a divine technique. I couldn't fight at full strength while trying to protect everyone else from that.
More importantly, my final trump card was essentially a suicide move. I refused to budge. Eventually, my family relented. They told me through tears to win and come back alive. My best friend, who refused to forgive me until the very end, left the house without a word. I haven't seen him since that day, though I'm sure he was watching from somewhere.
And so, with my family seeing me off, I challenged Sukuna… and I was utterly crushed.
I didn't intend to lose, and I fought to win, but the gap was just too wide. I was beaten so badly I didn't even have the energy to feel frustrated.
However, I achieved my goal: I drew out information on Sukuna.
My plan was never strictly about winning. I knew from the start that victory was unlikely. I wasn't arrogant enough to think I could beat the monster that even Satoru Gojo couldn't defeat. My true objective was to ensure that information about Sukuna's Domain and his cursed technique reached the future—specifically, the Satoru Gojo who would be born centuries later.
I had ordered my family to record every detail of Sukuna's abilities in documents and distribute them among the Three Great Families. I figured that as long as one person survived, their fear of Sukuna would ensure those records were kept.
I personally couldn't force him to use his trump card or his flames, but I was confident that the Enhanced Mahoraga—let's call it True Mahoraga—would be enough to drag those secrets out of him.
With that weight off my shoulders, I thought I could die in peace, but… this was definitely unexpected.
I looked around. I was in a traditional Japanese estate; the scent of tatami and wood was unmistakable. From the scenery, I was definitely back in Japan. Next, I looked at myself. Small hands, a small body, short limbs… I'd guess I was about five or six years old.
I tried to summon a shadow from the Ten Shadows… but nothing happened.
So, my technique really is gone. The Binding Vow is still in effect.
"…What am I going to do now?"
The words escaped my lips. Seriously, what now? I thought that was the end, so I literally gave everything I had. I never planned for a "next time." Who expects to be reincarnated twice? And since I made such an insane Vow to summon True Mahoraga, the despair of knowing I'll never use my technique again is very real.
Man, this is bad. But first, I need to figure out where the hell I am—
"…Meguru?"
A voice called out. I looked toward the sound and saw someone I knew very well.
How could I not? This was the man I had used as the model for my own taijutsu. Black hair, a scar at the corner of his mouth, a perfectly honed body, and an aura that radiated absolute, overwhelming strength. There was no mistaking it.
Even if it was only because he had intel and landed a surprise attack, he was one of my idols—the man who once temporarily overwhelmed Satoru Gojo.
The Sorcerer Killer, Toji Zenin. My hero was standing right there.
Seeing my idol, my body moved faster than my brain. I scrambled up, ran toward him on my tiny legs, and—
"Big Brother!"
I lunged at him and hugged him tight. Wait… Big Brother?
I started rubbing my cheek against Toji's—my brother's—abs, and he looked down, reaching out with a surprisingly gentle hand to pat my head.
In that instant, "memories that never existed" flooded my mind. Memories of me begging Toji for piggyback rides, memories of asking him to be my master and teach me combat (where he beat me to a pulp), and memories of us eating ramen together.
We weren't blood-related, yet my mind was screaming that this man was my brother. Wait, what am I doing?
Actually, wait. Hold on a second. If Toji—the man who would become the Sorcerer Killer—is here, does that mean… am I in the Zenin clan again?
Wait, again?! Another round with the Zenins? And it's the era of the "Rotten Grade" elders? Before the Gojo/Geto generation even arrives?
…Oh, crap. This is bad.