The Honored One Goes Beyond!

Hello, all readers, thanks for stopping by my first ever story. I'm so unbelievably thankful for each and every person that pops in to check it out. Hopefully I can make a story that makes you laugh and cry and it's worth your time!

Chapter 1: Rush of Victory

The unrelenting buzz at the base of his skull—it was a sensation Satoru Gojo knew all too well. But this time, it was different. This rush, this crackling thrill coursing through his nerves, was far more exhilarating than anything he'd felt before… Even compared to his battle against Toji Zenin.

The adrenaline rush that he'd gained from pulling off such an unbelievably risky move, blowing himself up, in most other circumstances would have been seen as an idiotic play however here by his own self-admission was pure and utter genius and seemed to have the effect that he'd not only wanted but needed.

While it was true he had taken damage from his gamble his opponent had taken infinitely more by far not only losing his supposed "trump card" Mahoraga in the resulting explosion but also taking a massive amount of damage himself on top of that.

In fact, Satoru was fairly confident that he could see "The Kings" skull poking through the seared half of his face that was caught in the explosion. He chuckled to himself pleased with the result.

Victory. Assured, inevitable victory. The kind only the strongest sorcerer of the modern era could claim, a victory that he had frankly grown not only grown comfortable with but was used to at this point.

Yet it was short-lived.

Before him stood his foe—crippled, exhausted, and barely upright. It was a pitiful state for someone who dared to call himself the "King of Curses." especially in the presence of someone who previously he deemed so "inferior" to himself.

But something was off.

The flow of cursed energy around Sukuna twisted in a way Gojo had never seen. His eyes, the eyes that had both blessed and cursed him with a mantle of "the strongest", detected patterns no other sorcerer could—yet even he struggled to comprehend what he was witnessing.

In all his twenty-eight years of life he had never seen cursed energy ebb and flow like this: sickening, dark, and stained red. It sparked—no, ignited—in Sukuna's brain, pulsed through his gut, then jettisoned outward through his fingertips, and then...

As Gojo awoke, he felt a familiar sensation ripple through his body—painful, yet peaceful.

Gojo: "So damn... annoying."

Satoru slumped back, his long legs kicking outwards cartwheeling as he leaned heavily into the rough wooden airport chair.

"Damn it!... How was I supposed to know that ONE slash would be any different from the others?"

He grumbled to no one in particular, sliding sideways in the seat until he was halfway draped over the armrest. His scowl deepened as he stared out the airport window, but his expression gradually shifted—first to confusion, then to acceptance, and finally… intrigue.

In a sudden burst of movement, he straightened up, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. He crossed one leg over the other and rested his chin on his hand, lost in speculative thought.

"Well… Mahoraga was able to get through Infinity. I guess… And technically it WAS a slash of some sort. But could Sukuna really copy it after just seeing it once?"

A brief pause as A smirk crept across his face. He already knew the answer.

He clapped his hands together abruptly, the sound echoing through the hollow, abandoned terminal like a gunshot. The silence returned, reverent, peaceful and still. He uncrossed his legs, rose to his full height, and stepped forward.

"All right. Now that I know what I'm dealing with, let's get back in there! If I had to guess right now... I'm probably dying," he said, almost cheerfully.

"Now… How can I save myself? Stop the bleeding. Maybe use Blue to hold my organs in place? I'm like… 90% sure I was cut in half. Shit, that's gonna be—like—Super! painful. Oh well... Then if I hit myself with a blast of RCT, I'll probably be able to—"

His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a gentle hand gripping his right shoulder.

"Long time no see..." the voice echoed through the empty halls

Gojo froze, eyes narrowing. He turned toward the voice, already dreading what—no, who—he would see. The moment his gaze landed on the familiar figure behind him; he recoiled with an exaggerated groan.

"Bleh!"

The sound escaped involuntarily, sharp and full of disbelief.

Because standing there was the one person Gojo Satoru never expected to see again.

"Well, that's definitely...a way to treat your friend after not seeing him for so long, ya jerk… Yo. Long time no see, Satoru."

Just from the voice alone, Gojo knew what or—who—he was about to see. Still, he'd be lying if he said the briefest smirk didn't creep across his face as he turned.

The man standing before him was nearly as tall as he was, long charcoal-black hair pulled into a bun, perfectly neat—except for a few strands forming a bang over the left side of his face.

And those eyes—sharp, stark purple… or were they always brown? Now that Satoru thought about it, he actually never paid that much attention.

Gojo: "Guess I really did screw up if I'm seeing you, huh, Geto?"

Gojo playfully quipped, brushing Geto's hand off his shoulder with a reaffirming smirk.

Geto: "Yeah yeah, shut up. I get it."

Geto pulled back, his body relaxing as he slid his hands into his pants pockets, taking on a more casual, balanced stance.

Geto: "So what, you actually thinking about going back for round two with Sukuna, Satoru? I mean, I get wanting to take another crack at the 'King of Curses'…"

Suguru emphasized the title with mocking air quotes, his face turning playfully "serious" as he chuckled lightly, teasing his old friend.

Geto: "Honestly, I'd say you had a pretty honorable death. What, you got something more to prove?"

Gojo looked back at his friend's face, his eyes shifting—he almost seemed lost in thought for a moment. His mind wandered through the years, through the weight of a lifetime, before his gaze drifted downward. Those strikingly blue eyes peeked out from behind his circular blue lenses as he slowly looked up toward the ceiling.

Gojo: "Something to prove? I don't really think… I've ever had anything to prove… Nah, honestly."

He smiled, rolling his head to the side, his eyes adjusting to meet Suguru's once more.

Gojo: "I just kinda feel bad for Sukuna. I mean, I'm gonna be honest—I don't even think he got to go all out in our fight.! Can you imagine how disappointing that must be!? I gotta get back in there. Can't be out here disappointing people, y'know? I've got a reputation to uphold, a certain standard i'm held to"

His words exacerbated as he shrugged nonchalantly.

Gojo: "Plus… I got my students, right? I said I'd save Megumi. And while, yeah, I might not always…"

He rolled his head dramatically, his fluffy flowing white hair rocking back and forth bobbing with the motion.

Gojo: "…keep my promises to that kid, I'd kinda like to keep this one, y'know? Plus, Yuji… pfft. Man, what am I gonna do with that kid? I got to teach him, what… like, two things?"

He held up two fingers with a playful grin to emphasizes his point, then looked down, puzzled.

Gojo: "Yuta disappeared for, like, a whole year?! And Maki? She's practically stealing every page outta Toji's book now! … I feel like I've still got more to teach those kids. I Just wanna see them grow a little more ya know? Just… a little more."

When he finished, his final words echoed slightly in the hollow, sterile hallway. For once, Gojo looked almost remorseful—quiet, not for himself, but for his students. He was satisfied this was true… but there was a longing in his voice, a weight he didn't normally let show. He turned to the window, a soft smirk on his face as sunlight streamed in.

The young man didn't like to admit it very often, but he couldn't help but feel throughout his life he was…odd, his status made him someone in which forming bonds was "difficult" but now he'd managed not just one but several and for the briefest of moments he wished to hang on.

Geto looked down, trying to find the right words. He scratched the back of his head as his thoughts turned, then he smiled to himself as he caught the rare, serious expression on Gojo's face.

Geto: "Blah blah blah… All I'm hearing is that once again, Satoru Gojo wants to take the spotlight."

He slumped into one of the uncomfortable airport seats, his posture relaxed.

Geto: "I mean, what? You think they can't handle it without you? Isn't that kinda the whole point of being a teacher? Or are you really just that crappy of one? I thought you prided yourself on the next generation finally being able to succeed you?"

He rolled his head forward, watching his friend's back as Gojo stared out the window, the gentle light outlining him in a calm, almost peaceful silhouette.

Gojo: "Tsk… I wasn't saying all that!"

He snapped his head back, sticking out his tongue like a bratty teen.

Gojo: "I know they got it! I mean, after all, they had the amazing me! To teach them everything they needed. I just wish I got a bit more time with them, is all…"

He sighed and looked forward again.

Gojo: "I've thought for a while that the world should be able to move forward without me. It's the whole reason I started teaching those kids in the first place, I mean, haven't people had a little too much of Satoru Gojo already?" His words reverberating through the quiet air as he had raised his voice ever so slightly before lowering it once more. " It's just a shame I won't get to see what they grow into though."

Geto's smile widened slightly. There was no need to convince Gojo—he'd already made peace with it.

Geto: "Hmmm. Man, you're making me jealous. Not only do you get a cool death, but you get to die with your only regret being, "Oh no, I did such a good job as a mentor that my students are thriving without me boo hoo. Now I can't see how cool they turn out?"

Gojo laughed, hopping into the seat next to Geto with lanky limbs flailing like a ragdoll.

Gojo: "That about sums it up, yeah!" he chuckled, poking Geto's shoulder with an extended finger.

Geto: "And what was that line about teaching Yuji only two things, huh? Thought you were a "Great Mentor?"

Gojo: "Eh… details, details."

The white-haired man waved off the critique as he continued to poke his finger into his friend's side.

Gojo: "Now come on—now that the dynamic duo's back together, what do dead people do for fun, huh?"

Geto: "Dynamic duo, huh?"

A small, sad smile stretched across his face as he fiddled with the spacers in his right ear, gently turning them between his thumb and index finger.

Geto: "Actually, I've kinda just been waiting for you, Satoru."

Gojo playfully thrust his head against Geto's shoulder with enough force to nudge him away.

Gojo: "Aww, you really care about me, don't ya?!"

He stuck out his tongue again, pushing harder against Geto until the man stood abruptly, the motion leaving Gojo's head nowhere to rest and as such having him fall abruptly onto the chair giggling like a schoolgirl all the while.

Geto: "God, I forgot how annoying you can be."

He sounded exasperated but was clearly smiling as he looked down at Gojo, sunlight catching in his eyes as he turned past the window.

Geto: "You're a good guy. You know that, right, Satoru?"

Gojo: "Well, duh—"

Geto: "Don't stop being a good guy." The man's voice interrupted in a calm and measured tone "Don't stop being Satoru Gojo. You always did what everyone else needed. And… to be honest, for a while, I looked down on you for that. "Sorry." the Man stated rather softly.

Suguru turned his face toward Gojo. His expression was hard to read—soft and sad, with a small, bittersweet smile. A mix of admiration, understanding… and maybe even a hint of love. The warm light swallowed half his face as he stood in it.

He turned and began walking down the hall, the sharp click of his shoes echoing on the tile. Gojo sat up, legs crossed, arms stretched out across the empty chairs beside him, head bowed as his friend's footsteps faded.

Suguru stopped briefly, shoes halting.

Geto: "Oh yeah… and thanks...for well, all of it." a somber smile tugging at the corners of his lips a life time's worth of memories flashing by in a single fleeting moment.

Geto continued to walk down the corridor before taking a brief pause.

Geto: "And maybe next time, try to be less of a dick in your next life."

He laughed as he walked away, footsteps growing quieter and quieter… until finally, they vanished along with his soft laughter.

Gojo chuckled to himself, then raised his head ever so slightly, listening as his friend disappeared.

The young man rests in his chair, lost in thought as memories of his life play like echoes in his head. He drums his fingers on his knee, bored out of his mind in the most sterile afterlife imaginable.

He leans back, lifting his glasses ever so slightly, giving himself a clearer view of the hollow room he finds himself in.

"Damn, guess I didn't live too bad of a life when I think about it… buuuut there's definitely some stuff I wanted to do."

He stands, dusting off his black pant legs, slipping his right hand into his pocket as he leisurely strolls down the hallway.

"Huh. So this is what purgatory looks like," he muses.

Despite the spotless floors and pristine walls, the place lacks anything to hold his attention—no cat posters reminding him to "hang in there," no ads for his favorite sweets. Just sterile stillness and his own thoughts.

"Damn no posters? No snacks? crap I really am dead."

He quips to himself while walking down the quiet hallway.

Eventually, something catches his eye—maybe the only thing that has. A flickering departure screen glows above him. Most gates read "DELAYED" in harsh red block letters. Only two remain active: Gate A1 to the North, and Gate A2 to the South.

NOW BOARDING: FINAL DESTINATION

The words scroll across both screens, repeating every few seconds.

Gojo squints at them.

No announcements. No crowds. No fanfare. Just him and the soft padding of his own footsteps on that oddly soulless carpet. With each step forward, the lights behind him dim—as if reality itself is shutting down section by section and closing for the night.

Satoru sighs aloud.

He'd hoped the afterlife might offer something to make the whole process a little more interesting maybe a highlight reel of his achievements or pictures or memories of his "friends" and acquaintances. Still, the quiet is… nice. Peaceful, even. He reaches up, pinching the bridge of his glasses and pulling them off slowly. As he'd suspected, his eyes feel perfectly adjusted for once—no strain, no overstimulation, no data overload from the Six Eyes. Just clarity… and a choice. One sign pointing North, the other South.

His bright blue gaze settles on the South gate first.

"Geto's totally the type to go South," he mutters. "Oh yeah—I can hear it now. 'I don't deserve a second chance, I must repent, yada yada yada…'"

Gojo straightens his posture dramatically, mimicking his old friend, wagging a finger and feigning solemnity.

"Nanami would probably go South too," he says, slipping his glasses back on with one hand and slicking his hair back with the other, doing his best stoic impression.

"I just want to take the path of least resistance. Nothing more, nothing less." He pushes the bridge of his glasses up with exaggerated seriousness.

Memories of his friends soften his smile. Their voices linger in his mind like familiar ghosts, and the thought of them warms him. Finally, he turns his head North. The soft blue galaxies swirling within his eyes settle on the path ahead.

"But I never do anything the easy way. That's just far too boring."

He walks forward, into the North corridor—into the light.

But not just any light.

It's blinding. Buzzing. Pulling—like Infinity turned inside out. He can't see through it, but he doesn't need to. He knows what's on the other side. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, steps into the golden glow with his head held high and a smile etched across his face—vanishing into warmth.

—

If Gojo were honest, it was a strange sensation. Nearly indescribable.

If you asked him to sum it up in one word?

"Tranquil."

…Actually, no. Fuck that.

The second he found even an iota of peaceful introspection, the world bombarded him—lights, sounds, smells, sensations—rushing in all at once like a tidal wave. Everything hit him so fast, too fast, too strong. It was overwhelming, like his senses had been forced wide open with no filter, no mercy. It reminded him of the rare moments where he would remove his blindfold or glasses.

But this? somehow was even more overwhelming as his senses adjusted to these new feelings.

He felt unbelievably heavy. Unbelievably light. Both floating and drowning.

His body tumbled—rotated, flipped, disoriented—like he was caught in some cosmic washing machine. He couldn't gather his bearings, couldn't grasp onto anything solid. Then, finally...

Stillness.

His lungs filled with air—fresh, sharp, and strange. A ragged breath clawed its way up his throat. It tasted familiar, yet alien. Something about it whispered of life and death, of something ended and something begun.

Then he heard them.

A soft sigh.

A passionate, joyful cry.

And then the clearest voice of all, whispering in quiet awe:

"Wow… he's beautiful."

The sounds and tastes and smells both somehow new yet familiar.

Gojo's eyes slowly but dutifully fluttered open, saturated in light, and the sight that awaited him truly stole his breath.

A woman.

She couldn't have been older than her early twenties. Her long, dark brown hair hung in disheveled strands, clumped and matted with sweat. Her face was flushed, cheeks rosy and glowing, her lips could be described as "peachy" as breath came in slow, tender gasps. But these were just surface details.

What caught Gojo's attention—what truly gripped him—were her eyes.

In all 28 years of his previous life, he'd never met another person with eyes even remotely like his. The Six Eyes were supposed to be a once-in-500-year mutation. A singular miracle. A curse and a crown. They made him powerful. But they also left him isolated.

But the woman staring back at him?

She had them too. No that wasn't correct, Not identical, no—but close. Mesmerizing. Hypnotic. Hers leaned more green, a soft teal hue that shimmered in the light. Subtle tears welled at the corners, her gaze locked on him with an expression that startled him more than anything else:

Pure, unfiltered joy.

Love.

Hope.

The longer he stared into those vast, glittering pearls, the more details he saw—the differences, the similarities, the impossible truth the strange realization that this is what others must have felt whenever they stared into his eyes.

And then, another face entered his view.

A man—tall, chiseled, and rugged. Stark white hair, wild and unkempt. A shadow of stubble along his jaw. Soft, deep brown eyes filled with warmth as he leaned into Gojo's view, wearing that same elated expression as the woman.

His large hands gently gripping the bed frame and a kind almost "doofy" grin spread across his face.

Gojo didn't need to be a genius to figure it out.

As his tiny, newborn fingers reached up—clumsy and new—toward the light and the warmth and the impossible reality of his second life…

December 7th.

Satoru Gojo burst back onto the scene.

And there you have it the end of chapter one, so what did you all think? Please leave any and all reviews that you may have. I would love to see what everyone thinks! And if you have any recommendations or guess for what may be to come please tell me I'd love to know and who knows they may be even just worm their way into the story!

In the next upcoming chapters, I'd like to give a bit more of my thought process when writing when more important events unfold so I can share what I was thinking.

But for now, this first chapter was more set up than anything else Oh and for those wondering don't worry I don't plan on having too many OC's Gojo's parents specifically we're just important for not only his birth but to his story overall, so you'll see more of them in the upcoming chapters but that's all for now.

Until next time take it easy!