Jujutsu Kaisen : The Hidden Gojo Sister/ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO X OC

Chapter 14A - Satoru (filler)

December 1993 - the first snowflake.

Satoru stood outside, kicking a small ball around in the quiet courtyard of the Gojo estate. His young face, though already carrying the sharpness of his future self, was lit with an innocent excitement as he spotted a group of kids from the clan playing nearby. Smiling to himself, he picked up the ball and jogged over to them, eager to join in. For a moment, he imagined playing together would feel like something normal, something he always secretly craved but could never quite grasp.

As he approached, though, the playful chatter of the kids faded. They looked at him, not with the welcoming smiles he'd hoped for, but with wide, almost fearful eyes. They glanced at one another, unsure of what to do. The air between them grew heavy, like they were standing before something larger than life.

"Satoru Gojo..." one of the kids whispered, almost in reverence.

Satoru was only four years old, but even then, he knew something was different about him. The other kids from the Gojo clan would glance at him, wide-eyed and nervous, whenever he tried to join their games. It wasn't the kind of look he wanted—it wasn't friendship or camaraderie. They watched him like he was something beyond them, someone they couldn't touch.

He tried to join them in a game of ball once, but the second the ball accidentally hit him, the game stopped.

The other kids froze, waiting for his reaction, and when one child's parent saw what had happened, they scolded their kid: Be careful! You're playing with the heir!

From then on, no one wanted to play with him. It was easier to avoid him than risk their parents' anger.

He was too young to fully understand it, but he felt it in his bones—the gap between him and the others. His power made him special, but it also made him lonely.

With a sigh, Satoru gave up trying to join them. "Never mind," he muttered to himself, turning away. He wandered back home, shoulders slumped, to play by himself in the quiet of their yard.

His mother, watching from the window, noticed how sad he looked. She stepped outside, her warm presence immediately comforting him. Sitting down beside him, she gently stroked his white hair. "What's wrong, Satoru?" she asked softly.

He hesitated, unsure of how to explain the loneliness he felt. "The kids didn't want to play with me again, they didn't say it but.. Why was I born with these eyes?" He murmured, his small voice heavy with confusion and sadness.

His mother looked up at the sky, noticing the first snowflake of winter drifting down. It landed softly on Satoru's hand, and he stared at it with wide eyes.

"You see this snowflake, Satoru?" his mother said, smiling gently. "In our culture, a snowflake symbolises purity and uniqueness. No two snowflakes are the same, but each one is special in its own way."

He glanced at her, unsure if he believed it, but comforted nonetheless by her words. "I feel... different."

"You are different," she replied, "but that's not a bad. It may not seem like it now, but one day, you'll find friends who will see you for who you are beyond your power. Special friends that will accept you, the real you."

She leaned in, kissing his forehead. "It will get better, Satoru. I promise.

Satoru looked down at the snowflake melting on his hand, and for the first time that day, he allowed himself to smile. He didn't fully understand the weight of her words, but he clung to them anyway, hoping that one day, she would be right.

June 1995.

Satoru's powers had begun to manifest, and the clan elders wasted no time. At the young age of five, he was taken away from his parents to begin rigorous training. He didn't understand it at the time—why he couldn't just stay with his family, why he had to endure so much.