There was no need for the midwives to intervene. With the gentle guidance of Lexus's slender silver hands, Mirai navigated his way out of the womb entirely on his own.
Phew… It was getting incredibly cramped in there. I almost suffocated!
He grumbled internally, preparing to finally open his eyes and take his first look at the outside world. Suddenly, he was hoisted high into the air, completely exposed to the sunlight by an old man whose breath smelled absolutely rancid.
Oh, absolutely not. Mirai wasn't about to coddle the old geezer. Clenching his tiny cheeks and revving his internal engine, he served the elder a piping hot beverage right to the face!
Psssssh!
"Oho~ This little one is certainly well-endowed," the old man chuckled, completely unbothered by the warm yellow liquid dripping from his chin. "Truly worthy of the Gojo bloodline!"
Casually wiping his face with his sleeve, the elder's expression shifted instantly from amusement to grave intensity as he turned to the other clan members. This was a matter concerning the honor and absolute survival of the Gojo clan. There was zero room for error.
After a brief struggle with his heavy eyelids, Mirai finally opened his eyes.
Just as the elders had prayed, a pair of brilliant, ethereal eyes—as flawlessly clear as a cloudless summer sky—met their anxious gazes.
The Six Eyes.
The ultimate genetic anomaly hidden deep within the Gojo bloodline. The absolute prerequisite for mastering the clan's inherited technique: Limitless. A divine talent that graced the world only once every few centuries!
At this moment, the Gojo clan's centuries of waiting had finally come to an end.
The elder held the six-eyed infant aloft, presenting him to the gathered clan members as though he were offering a god to his worshippers. Anyone who dared look into those sapphire depths immediately dropped their gaze, overcome with the rabid devotion of a zealot.
"Mirai!" "That is his name!" "Behold, the future of our Gojo clan!"
The Great Elder's voice boomed with sonorous authority, his face flushed crimson with a feverish, almost fanatical excitement. As fate would have it, Mirai would once again carve his own legend into the jujutsu world.
But the celebratory fervor was suddenly shattered by a frantic shout from the midwife in the delivery room.
"There's… there's another young master! A second child has been delivered!"
The ecstatic smiles on the elders' faces instantly evaporated, replaced by a heavy, suffocating dread.
Because in jujutsu society, twins are an omen of misfortune. Bound by a profound, inescapable connection, the birth of twins meant that both individuals would exist in a state of cursed incompleteness. They were a karmic burden to one another, drastically suppressing their potential as sorcerers. Even if one twin miraculously devoured the cursed energy of the other within the womb to become innately powerful, the drained twin was doomed to live as a mere ordinary human.
In the darkest corners of the jujutsu world, utterly ruthless parents would often choose to cull the weaker twin just to ensure the survival of one "perfect" heir.
The elders exchanged panicked glances, entirely at a loss.
Creak.
Unable to stand the hesitation, the Great Elder decisively pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the delivery room, striding in while the others lingered in anxiety.
He froze.
The second infant, securely swaddled in his crib, slowly opened his eyes. They were a striking, pale cerulean—the exact same eyes as Mirai's.
The Six Eyes. Again. It was an ironclad rule of the jujutsu world that only one bearer of the Six Eyes could exist in a single generation. Yet, miraculously, impossibly, two had just been born as twins! The sheer absurdity of the situation only amplified just how unprecedented these brothers truly were.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Impatient, the Second Elder hurried inside with Mirai still cradled in his arms, followed closely by the rest of the elders.
"What the hell?!" the Second Elder gasped, stumbling back.
The remaining elders stared in dumbfounded horror at the younger twin. Another pair of Six Eyes?! Were the heavens handing out divine talents like cheap candy at a bargain sale?!
"Great Elder, this is..."
"Do not let a word of this leave this room," the Great Elder commanded, his voice tight. "We will use the clan's secret techniques to thoroughly inspect the birth of these two anomalies."
"Has the younger one been named?" the Second Elder asked nervously.
The Great Elder pondered for a moment. "Satoru. We will name him Gojo Satoru."
Hearing that name, Mirai was entirely speechless.
It really is you. You arrogant, white-haired icon. Hehehe~ And now you're just my little brother. Recalling the manga panels where Sukuna had unceremoniously cleaved this beloved, overpowered idiot in half, Mirai couldn't help but feel a bizarre mix of exasperation, amusement, and overwhelming curiosity. He stretched his wrinkled, tiny hand straight toward Gojo Satoru, wanting to poke the legendary sorcerer currently swaddled in a crib.
"Hmm? What's the matter? Do you want to play with your little brother, Mirai?"
The Second Elder leaned in, softening his weathered face and pitching his voice into a high, flattering coo. Mirai offered no verbal response, but nodded his little head emphatically.
Marveling at the fact that a newborn seemed to understand him flawlessly, the Second Elder gently lowered Mirai into the crib beside Satoru. These two brothers were the absolute treasures of the Gojo clan; they couldn't risk a single scratch on them. Hell, even the traditional "make the baby cry to clear their lungs" ritual had been entirely abandoned because the Great Elder couldn't bear to lay a finger on their precious Six Eyes.
Lying side by side, the two anomalies locked eyes.
Though Gojo Satoru was born with the world-shaking Six Eyes, right now, he was just a smelly newborn fresh out of the womb. He quietly sucked on his fingers, his mesmerizing blue eyes staring up at Mirai with intense, unblinking focus.
There was a palpable, magnetic resonance between the two of them. Noticing the stare, Mirai glared right back with his own clear eyes.
What are you staring at? Never seen a boss before?
Mirai wiggled. He had always lived by a very simple philosophy: if a stray dog stared at him for too long on the street, it was getting a smack.
Aided once again by the slender, invisible silver hands of Lexus, Mirai managed to prop himself up, wobbling unsteadily on his tiny knees. Then, under the collective gaze of the Gojo elders—who watched with a bizarre mix of encouragement, shock, and total bewilderment—Mirai gleefully wound up and delivered a resounding slap right across Gojo Satoru's chubby little cheek.
Smack!
Wow, that felt incredibly satisfying!
For as long as he could remember, Mirai had harbored a deeply sadistic urge to take this flawless, untouchable character down a peg. Humiliating the great Gojo Satoru was a dream come true.
Well, half the goal was achieved anyway. The rest... I'll just have to wait until he grows up. Hehehe.