Chapter Text
It was bloody work, taking the baby.
But they didn’t really expect it to be anything else.
Not when the Gojo family was celebrating the birth of the newest bearer of Six Eyes. The estate was buzzing with activity, every distant cousin coming to stay over for a week or two, flocking to the newly branded nursery, gawking at the newborn child and his mother.
For Gojo Yua, this was the first time in her life she had received such undivided attention. Born to the branch family, before her son’s birth she wasn’t even important enough to be allowed lodgings in the central estate. But from that day on, until her son became grown enough to be considered a creature separate from her, she would be lavished like a queen. Then she would be thrown by the wayside again.
She knew this. It burned in her eyes like candle flame, the knowledge and the hunger. Attention, love, acknowledgment. Fruits of her womb gifting her what she could only dream of on her own. Gojo Yua was a starving creature, vampire fangs hidden behind the angelic smile framed by long, snowy hair.
Kenjaku observed it all.
The comings and goings, the talk and the gossip, the greed and the hunger.
So many relatives coming to see the child. So many of them bringing their own servants along. Gojo’s were a proud family. They barely cared enough to look their servants in the eyes, let alone to learn their names or personalities.
Slipping in with the guests, quiet and unassuming, with their head down and claws hidden, it had been nothing but a game.
One would think the family would have learned to watch itself a little better by now.
Getting in was easy.
Getting Gojo Yua and her baby all alone, now that was the bloody part.
Fortunately, nobody in the Gojo household cared if a couple of servants went missing. Kenjaku hopped from host to host for about a week. Exhausting, dirty work. Hiding their binding vow and biding their time, licking their teeth every time a Gojo would turn a rude word to them.
They didn’t mind.
If there was one thing they were good at, it was patience.
A hasty spider seldom caught any flies.
They settled into the cook’s body for the crux of their plan. He was a proud and a strict man with a sharp tongue who had spent half his life vying for the attention from the family he served. He would finally get it when the meal delivered to Gojo Yua turned out to be poisoned and the young mother took ill.
The family would explain his disappearance as a culprit running away from his crime and Kenjaku would settle into the body of an old housemaid with sunken eyes and calloused hands. She bore so much hatred for the clan in her withered heart that Kenjaku was quite sure she would approve of their actions.
If there was one thing noble clans could be counted on with, it was that none of them wanted to take care of sick women and crying children.
If there was one thing that the family’s servants could be counted on with, it was that they all knew Gojo Yua would have been hell to deal with, with her newly found importance and newly caught sickness.
So nobody batted an eye when the only person that ended up taking care of such an important task was a single old woman.
It was bloody work, but it was easier than they expected.
The child cried when they killed his mother.
Nobody came.
Children often cried loudly and inconsolably for no reason at all. The little Six Eyes was more valuable than gold but that didn’t mean he was worthy of getting out of a warm bed in the middle of the night when there were servants in charge of doing just that.
So Kenjaku worked undisturbed, the same old routine. Stab, saw, sew. Gojo Yua had been weakened by the poison enough that she didn’t put up much of a fight against the old woman’s wrinkled hands. Her blood dyed the pristine white sheets of her bed in the richest of scarlets. Her skin fit like silk when the nerve endings all connected and Gojo Yua was reborn, all the weakness from the pregnancy, birth, poison, washing out of her body as they spun reversed cursed technique like a tapestry.
The room was a mess and they would have to make it worse. Gojo Yua’s original brain and the old maid’s empty skull were a dead giveaway for what had befallen the household. They tucked one into the other and packed it onto the bloodied bed, soaking what they could with a small canister of kerosene they had hidden in the folds of their sleeve. It wouldn’t burn the house down, but it would do a fine enough job with the body before someone came to extinguish the flames. It was in their favor that most of the family would probably run away from the room instead of towards it.
It didn’t matter how the remains looked if they were ashes.
The baby was still crying.
His bright blue eyes shut in fear, his little face so furiously red. How small he was, how frail. It had always been funny, seeing Six Eyes at this stage.
They took the child in their arms, gently shushing him, wiping tears from his chubby cheeks. He didn’t calm down completely until they nursed him, and then he looked positively serene, a perfect little angel with fair tufts of hair and barely visible lashes.
Gojo Yua’s ambition burned in their gums when they kissed the child’s head. How long had she waited for something like this, a chance, an opportunity, something to help her muscle out of the sorry place her gender and her family had landed her in. For a woman in the Gojo household, there was truly no bigger prestige than mothering the Six Eyes. How happy she had been with the child, they could still feel it in the beat of her heart. She would stir him and wake him all hours of the day and night just to take one more look at his eyes. Just to drink in the promise of a new life she had been granted.
Little Six Eyes would have been a formidable sorcerer in the future, but right then he had been barely anything more than a scorned girl's ticket to success.
Kenjaku brushed their fingers under the child’s slowly closing eyes. They and Gojo Yua had very similar motives indeed.
The child’s name was Gojo Satoru and they would not kill him yet.
Nobody saw them slip out of the fire engulfed room, the child cradled safely in their arms. What would happen later was little of their worry. Maybe the family would think that the child burned down into nothing, maybe they would suspect foul play, maybe they would look for him. They would accuse each other, that was for sure, each other and then the Zenin’s and the Kamo’s until the whole incident turned more into an opportunity to flare never fully buried arguments than to actually resolve the problem.
But clan infighting had never been something they were interested in. They had eyes and ears in Tokyo so if anything important came up they would know. But for now, it was time to dedicate themselves to a far more important part of their plan.
Six Eyes slept sweetly the whole train ride to the mountains.
The village they picked to settle down in was barely a smattering of houses over peaceful hills. The whole community counted little more than a dozen souls, all non-sorcerers, all as old as stones that made their barren homes. Mostly widows with their pale eyes, with their smiles sunken into flesh wrinkled from time and sun. They were all so thrilled to receive them, talking their ears off and cooing over Six Eyes, old mothers that hadn’t had a child to spoil in years. They didn’t ask about the father. They didn’t ask what a young woman with a baby barely a week old was doing in their forgotten little community. In their time, killing one’s husband was more acceptable practice than divorcing him, even if that was something nobody would utter a word about until they were old enough that it no longer mattered. Kenjaku had counted on that discretion, something only this sort of community could truly provide.
So they put up with old women showing up at their doors, carrying tea and sweets, cooing over Six Eyes and assuring Kenjaku that they were willing to provide help at any time.
“He’s such a handsome little boy.” One of the women cooed, pinching Six Eyes cheek, an ant on the god’s skin. The child cooed and gurgled. He didn’t know he was a god yet.
“He is my special treasure.” They had said, bouncing the child in their arms. His tiny little fingers curled and uncurled as he looked up at them with blank blue eyes.
As safe and as welcoming as the village was, they didn’t intend to stay in it for long. About one decade worth of time would probably be enough for all the fuss to die down, for the disappearance or death of Six Eyes to meld into a bad memory. It wasn’t their favorite thing to do, to stay put and inactive. They were a scientist and a researcher, they were used to traveling all around Japan and all around the world, they were used to weaving their webs just over the center of all the action.
But that’s just what motherhood was like, they supposed. Six Eyes was far too weak now, they would have to wait for the child to properly pupate and then complete his metamorphosis. Until he was old enough to follow along wherever they would go without needing constant care. There would be different logistics problems then, how to hide away Six Eyes despite the notoriety, despite how recognizable he was.
They already had a few ideas for that, but for now all of them were on hold. It was just them and Six Eyes, tucked away in a village made of crumbling stone and fading memory. Their worst enemy, warm and peaceful in their arms, eyes closed and sucking on his thumb.
It wasn’t the first time they had held a Six Eyes child, though the last time it happened they had snapped the little things neck quick and easy. Six Eyes was so delicate at this stage; it was hard to imagine he was destined to grow into the pinnacle of sorcery.
If allowed to, of course. If all the right conditions were met and he was properly taught and properly raised. But Kenjaku had no ambitions about creating their own worst enemy.
So the question really was, what would they create?
Anything and everything was an option. Six Eyes had always been like that, overflowing with potential, more than any human, more than any sorcerer. Put on this earth with perfection coursing through the veins like golden ichor.
The very idea made Kenjaku’s hands ache for the tools neatly stashed underneath the top most layer of clothes in their backpack. They’ve always loved children. They’ve already had nine, unfit for life as they turned out to be, and they’ve always wanted more.
Evolutionary research started in the marrow of a child’s bone.
If allowed to grow up properly, Six Eyes would be the most powerful sorcerer this century had seen, sworn protector of the Star Plasma Vessel, shoulders on which the sorcery world could put all of their worries on.
An ever-present thorn in Kenjaku’s side.
But now…
How funny it would be, to sic Six Eyes on Tengen, on the Star Plasma Vessel, on everything it was born to protect. Laughter bubbled in their throat at the mere idea of the face Tengen would pull. The gem they all laid their hopes on, turned into a knife sunk in their back. It shouldn’t be hard either, the child’s loyalty was practically owed, Kenjaku would be all he truly knew.
But it would still be too risky
Six Eyes tended to be unpredictable, its ties with Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel strong as iron. Fate was an irritating thing that didn’t play by the rules of science or reason and fate dictated that if Six Eyes was left to its own devices, it would find a way to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen no matter what. It would be foolish not to consider that possibility. That no matter what they laid in the child’s mind, he would turn around and dutifully fill out his fate if left unmonitored.
So it would be better to stick with what was safe. To find the Prison Realm and seal the child within it once the time of the merger came. A domesticated Six Eyes would stay still for them much nicer than one allowed to roam without a proper leash.
However, there was still plenty of time until that would become a necessity. They have yet to hear about the birth of the next Star Plasma Vessel and their sources at the school told them that Tengen wouldn’t be ready for a merger for a dozen more years or so.
For now, they would enjoy the quiet life with their new study. There was so much about Six Eyes that they wanted to know, things that wouldn’t reveal themselves unless they studied the phenomenon up close. It was a priceless opportunity for them and they didn’t intend to waste it.
Six Eyes stirred in his sleep, bright blue eyes blearily staring up at them before his face scrunched up and fussy sobs shook his tiny body. Kenjaku laughed, stroking the child’s cheek before bringing him back to their breast. Six Eyes was clumsy but eager, sobs quickly quieted as he latched on, eyes closing again, hands balled into tiny fists against Kenjaku’s skin.
Kenjaku hummed softly, brushing through the child’s fair hair, a smile digging into the corners of their mouth. Time until the merger was oh so brief, but they would utilize it to the best of their ability.
“There, there,” they hushed, stroking the delicate skin under the child’s eye, “No need to cry. Mommy will take very good care of you.”