Jujutsu kaisen: Beyond Cursed Paths

The world was initially overwhelming. The muted, blurred colors and indistinct sounds jumbled together in Sora's mind. Everything was foreign, yet strangely familiar—the cries of a baby he now realized were his own, the warmth of his mother's arms, the scent of the clean bedding surrounding him. It took time, but his mind, sharper than most infants, began to adapt. Even so, there were undeniable frustrations. He had knowledge, awareness, and determination, yet he was confined to the body of an infant, powerless to act in the ways he instinctively wished to.

It wasn't entirely helplessness, however. Sora quickly learned the rules of this fragile state: his cries could summon attention, but overuse bred annoyance. He wielded it sparingly, crying only when necessary—when hunger clawed at his tiny stomach or when discomfort demanded he be changed. His parents responded quickly to his cues, almost eagerly. He realized with some amusement that, in this life, he had something he lacked in the last—devoted guardians who appeared to care for him deeply.

He observed them as much as his infant form allowed. His mother, Ikari, was striking, her red hair framing violet eyes that stared down at him with profound affection. She would gently cradle him, her touch soft and warm, and murmur words that gradually began to form shapes and patterns in his mind. She was strong, he realized, not just in personality but in presence. There was a sharpness in her movements, precise and deliberate, even as she tended to him.

His father, Ryo, was equally captivating,with a black mop of hair, as he was tall with a well proportioned physique that would put most body builders to shame.

Sora's own hair, white yet filled with strands of red and black inherited from both his parents. His eyes, as violet as that of his mother shining with curiosity, observing everything, was framed by a face inherited from his father while having his mother's nose.

Sora noticed his father commanding posture and sharp jawline—features he quickly recognized in his own reflection on the rare occasions he caught it in polished surfaces. His father's voice was firm yet caring when speaking to him, a balance that conveyed a mix of expectations and pride. Whenever others entered the room, his father's presence dominated the space, and even as an infant, Sora noted the subtle signs of deference the visitors displayed: lowered voices, bowed heads, and hesitant movements.

From scattered snippets of conversation, he pieced together that his parents weren't just respected; they were admired. Sorcerers of immense skill, with influence in this clan—Harugawa, they called it. Their names were spoken with reverence by the few people who visited, and Sora understood that in this life, he was born into a family of status and power. He filed away every word, sound, and expression, determined to uncover more of the dynamics around him.

Over the next few months, language became less of an enigma. At first, it was just fragmented syllables, but Sora's sharp mind worked diligently to decode their meaning. As Sora began to understand these conversations, his observations took on deeper meaning. He noticed how his mother held a silent dominance in discussions, her insights and strategies highly valued. His father wielded a quieter power, his presence alone enough to command attention. Together, they were pillars of this family, protectors of the clan's traditions and reputation. Sora knew then that being their son came with expectations. His mother spoke of powerful adversaries defeated in battle and of cursed energy shaping their world. His father described the balance between the Harugawa and the other great clans, how their independence was fiercely guarded.He understood now what his parents had discussed on many occasions: Cursed Energy.

"Cursed Energy?! Do that means am in the world of jujutsu kaisen?".

"Damn, this world teeming with cursed and spirit and people who can do all sorts of crazy things and I get reborn as a baby?!." "Shit!"

"Where is my system? My golden finger? My cheat?." He thought agitated "status" " menu" "grandpa in the ring" "or is it just late? I don't wanna die after just getting a second chance" he thought worriedly.

"What time period am I in? From the conversations around it seems like Gojo has just been born. Does that mean we are of the same age?" "I hope I get a really strong ability so I can contend and surpass everything this world has to offer including the fames strongest sorcerer himself!."

On occasions when he is left alone by the maid or his parents. Sora turned his attention inward, searching, having noticed something different about himself.....wanting to grasp what's beneath the surface of his being,now that he knows what it is,he could feel it thrumming—a constant flow of energy that seemed almost alive.

At first, it was vague, like a distant pulse, but over time, he began to understand its patterns. It moved through him, around him, responding subtly to his emotions. With effort, he began experimenting, drawing the energy closer with his mind. He didn't just feel it—he studied it. Sora observed how his infant emotions affected the energy, sending wild ripples through it when he was frustrated and calming it when he felt content. This energy, he realized, was tied to his very existence. Over time, he learned to direct it, nudging it subtly toward his tiny hands. By the time he reached a few months of age, he could make toys tremble or shift slightly without touching them. These tiny victories thrilled him, even if no one else noticed.

 It wasn't simply an external force to him; it was intrinsic to his new being,a part of him. In moments of solitude, he practiced control, honing it silently. His past life had taught him the value of preparation, and he intended to meet this life's expectations not with raw potential, but mastery. As the days passed, Sora came to an important realization: he wasn't just a passive observer of this world. The energy within him—his cursed energy—was growing stronger, as if responding to his will. As even more time passed, he realized that he awakened his cursed technique at birth but his weak body didn't let it show forth.

"Cursed technique:Cursed Manipulation"

Sora eyes shone intensely as he thought about what this technique meant for him, he was filled with quiet anticipation. It wasn't just about moving objects or feeling energy—it was about control, reshaping the very essence of that power into something entirely his own. For now, though, he remained the silent, resilient child his parents doted on. Quiet and observant, Sora stored every interaction, every word, every flicker of energy. He was a child of the Harugawa clan, but within him burned the ambition of someone who had seen another life—and he would use every ounce of that knowledge to shape this new one.

Sora's attention wasn't solely inward. He also observed the events happening in the Harugawa clan—the sprawling compound with its neatly arranged gardens and austere wooden halls proudly showing off it's ancestry. "It's huge" he noted on the rare occasions he was brought outside. Servants moved quietly but efficiently, bowing to his parents whenever they passed. Stray conversations revealed insights into the clan's politics: debates about strengthening alliances, whispers about cursed spirits growing stronger in the last few months. Even as an infant, Sora understood that these changes weren't coincidental. His existence—and perhaps the existence of another—was shifting the balance of this world. Despite his determination to adapt and grow, there were moments of reflection. His new life was so different from his previous one. The love and attention of his parents were an unfamiliar comfort, one that occasionally left him conflicted. Did he deserve this second chance? These were fleeting thoughts, quickly overshadowed by his resolve to make the most of this life.