The world came back in fragments.
A dull ache behind his eyes. The scratchy dryness in his throat that always lingered after a bad cold. The faint smell of tatami mats and incense.
He blinked slowly, expecting the familiar ceiling of his apartment. The faint glow of sunlight sneaking through half broken blinds, or the smell of peeling drywall.
But all he could see was…
Nothing.
"I see nothing. Nothing at all."
The words echoed inside his mind, but even there, they felt muffled, distant, as if his thoughts were wrapped in layers of thick cotton. Panic surged suddenly, sharp and uncontrollable, clawing its way up his chest. He tried to force his eyes open, willing them to work, to focus—but the world remained a mess of blurred colors and indistinct shapes
.
Everything around him was wrong. Not dark. Not empty. Just… unfocused. As if reality itself refused to sharpen.
Fear tightened its grip around his thoughts so completely that he didn't even notice the warmth surrounding him at first. Nor the gentle, rhythmic swaying of his body.
"Chie-sama, both children are in good health. I will wash them and then bring them back to you."
A woman's voice.
Clear. Close.
That voice pierced through his haze like a hook, dragging his awareness back to the surface. His thoughts stuttered, then slowly reassembled. And that was when he finally realized something crucial.
He was being held.
Arms were wrapped around him—secure, careful, practiced. He felt himself being carried forward, step by step, before his body left that warmth and was gently lowered into something else.
Water.
Warm water lapped against his skin, sending a strange shiver through him. It felt unfamiliar, overwhelming, almost invasive.
"But… where am I?"
The question existed only in his mind. Before he could even attempt to unravel the situation, hands lifted him again. The sensation of movement returned, followed by the familiar warmth of being held once more.
He gathered what little courage he had and tried to speak.
"Hello."
That was what he intended to say.
What actually came out was nothing more than soft, meaningless babbling.
The sound startled him.
"What the hell is going on?" he thought, shock rippling through his consciousness.
The person holding him—judging by the voice, a woman—passed him to someone else. This new presence was different. Firmer. Stronger. He was grasped with a single arm, effortlessly supported.
And that was when it hit him.
"I'm an adult. Over seventy kilos."
That thought rang loud and clear in his mind.
This shouldn't be possible.
No one should be able to carry me around like this. Not so easily. Not like I weigh nothing at all.
And yet… that was exactly what was happening.
"What will you name them, Chie-sama?" the same woman asked.
Wait.
"This isn't English… but I understand everything perfectly."
The realization sent a chill down his spine.
"How is that even possible?"
The situation was unraveling faster and faster, logic slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to grasp it. He forced himself to stay calm, to breathe, to think—
Then the answer came.
"They will be called Zoro and Toji Zen'in," said a gentle voice.
Something inside him snapped into place.
"Oh."
"I'm screwed."
On December 31st, 1978, the tyrant of the Heavenly Restriction and the world-splitting swordsman were born.
Time passed.
Three days, to be exact.
And in those three days, my worst fears were confirmed beyond any doubt.
I was reincarnated into Jujutsu Kaisen.
And it was unbelievably frustrating.
It wasn't the reincarnation itself that bothered him. Not really.
I was an orphan. I didn't have any friends I was really close to. My job had been… tolerable at best. There wasn't much of a life to desperately cling to.
Honestly, the only thing I truly regretted leaving behind was never seeing the end of One Piece. And even that—painful as it was— I could have learned to live with.
No.
The real problem was where he had been born.
"Tch. Of all places… it had to be one of the Three Great Clans. And the Zen'in clan, of all of them," he thought, clicking his tongue in irritation.
Zoro lay in a crib, his small body resting beside Toji's.
Everything was still blurry.
That was one of the downsides of being a baby.
It wasn't that he couldn't see. It was more like the world was permanently stuck out of focus—like a photograph taken by a speedster mid-run. Shapes existed, colors too, but details were completely lost.
As if that wasn't bad enough, he couldn't stay awake for more than two hours at a time before his body demanded sleep. And even that was impressive for a newborn—something he silently credited to his One Piece physique.
Still, compared to Toji, it was nothing.
That kid could stay awake as long as he pleased and only slept when he felt like it.
"As expected of the tyrant of the Heavenly Restriction."
The sliding door to the room opened.
"Here they are, Soya-sama," the nurse announced as she entered, accompanied by the man Zoro now understood to be his father.
"What are their names?" the man asked, his voice calm and devoid of emotion.
"The older one is called Zoro. The younger is Toji."
Heavy footsteps approached.
Zoro pretended to sleep, keeping his breathing slow and shallow. Even so, he could feel it—the weight of that gaze pressing down on him, sharp and suffocating.
Seconds passed.
Then—
Crack.
The sound of wood splintering echoed through the room. It didn't take him long to realize what had happened.
The edges of the crib… crushed.
"Call Chie to the living room," Soya said softly.
"What? But Soya-sama, she's not in any condition to move," the nurse protested.
"I SAID BRING HER TO THE LIVING ROOM."
The air itself seemed to grow heavier as an oppressive aura flooded the room.
The nurse froze for a split second, then rushed out in terror.
Soya looked down at them one last time.
"Trash."
The door slid shut.
Only after several long minutes did Zoro dare to open his eyes.
"So… he noticed."
Of course he had.
It had only been a matter of time.
"Well then," He thought grimly, turning his face towards Toji.
"Quiet life's over my bro. Time to grind."
Toji seemed to notice my gaze, and unlike me, he appeared to see perfectly.
I reached out toward him, trying to pat his head, but it was useless. My status as a newborn limited my movements far too much.
And having the physique of someone from the world of One Piece didn't change that.
Yet, against all expectations, Toji tried to imitate me and stretched out his arm as well.
Unlike me, he managed to control his movements and grabbed my hand.
Although stronger than that of a normal newborn, his grip remained weak. Heavenly Restriction or not, a baby was still a baby.
Before I even realized it, he started to smile—at least, that's what it looked like to me in this blurry world.
"Looks like you're already getting attached to me, you little germ," I thought, smiling back at him.
The three-day-old infant then did something unbelievable.
"What the hell is this?" I thought, trying to understand what was happening right in front of me.
He began to slowly slide toward me.
After several minutes of effort, he finally crossed the few centimeters separating us and lay down beside me.
When he did, I stopped trying to find logic in it and simply accepted the moment of tenderness.
"So, what do you want, little brother?" I tried to say.
Of course, nothing came out of my mouth—but the small babbling sound that escaped only made his smile grow wider.
He snuggled up to me and gently closed his eyes.
Feeling his body relax against mine, I felt a smile form on my own face as well.
Then I remembered the fate of the baby pressed against me.
Ostracized by the entire clan. Thrown into a room filled with monsters he couldn't even see.
Eventually pierced by a sixteen-year-old high on coke—only to be brought back to life, and finally forced to take his own life to avoid killing his son.
All of it swirled through my mind, giving birth to a new determination.
"Don't worry, bro. I'll make sure your future is bright."
I gathered all my strength, clenched my fists, and raised them toward the sky.
"You'll stab everyone who stands in our way—and I…"
"I'll slash them all."