Reborn in Jujutsu Kaisen as a Zenin

The winter of 1989 marked a pivotal moment in the history of jujutsu society. In the span of three days, two births would fundamentally alter the balance of power in ways that even the most prescient jujutsu sorcerers couldn't have predicted.

On December 7th, as Satoru Gojo drew his first breath, the very fabric of space distorted around the Gojo estate.

Cursed energy rippled across Tokyo in waves, causing instruments in the Jujutsu High to malfunction.

The infant's eyes, bearing the divine power of the Six Eyes, opened to a world that would never be the same.

The sky above the Gojo compound momentarily warped, creating what witnesses would later describe as a perfect circle of absolute clarity in the winter clouds, through which stars shone with impossible brightness.

Three days later, on December 10th, the Zenin clan welcomed their newest member under equally extraordinary circumstances.

Indra, second son of Naobito Zenin and Samira Al-Rashid, was born during what would later be called the "Still Hour." For exactly sixty minutes, every cursed spirit within a hundred-kilometer radius fell silent.

The usually turbulent pools of negative energy that naturally gathered around the Zenin compound became eerily calm, as if the very world held its breath.

Indra inherited his mother's features – warm tan skin and deep black eyes that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

Samira, descended from an ancient line of Iraqi jujutsu sorcerers who traced their lineage back to Mesopotamian curse-weavers, had brought with her both centuries of mystical knowledge and formidable cursed techniques.

The boy's jet-black hair and complexion marked him clearly as her son, though his facial structure hinted at the sharp Zenin features beneath.

"The spirits bow," observed one of the Zenin elders, watching as the normally aggressive cursed energy surrounding their compound swirled in gentle patterns around the newborn. "They recognize something in him. Perhaps the old blood of Babylon still holds power."

Naobito stood at the window of the traditional Japanese room where his wife rested with their child, his keen eyes noting the unusual phenomena.

Unlike the typical chaos that cursed energy exhibited, the patterns around his son moved with purpose, forming shapes reminiscent of ancient cuneiform symbols before dissolving into mist.

In the following days, as reports filtered in from across the jujutsu world, a pattern emerged. Two births, three days apart, each accompanied by unprecedented supernatural events.

The Gojo clan's strongest heir in centuries, and a Zenin child whose birth had commanded the attention of cursed spirits themselves.

At Jujutsu High, the council gathered in emergency session. The birth of one such child would have been remarkable enough to warrant discussion.

Two, born so close together, suggested something more. Ancient texts were consulted, speaking of cycles of power and times when the world's balance would shift like a scale finding new equilibrium.

"Two focal points," Master Tengen would later observe. "Two points around which the future will pivot."

What none could have known was that behind Indra's infant eyes lay a soul that had lived before, memories temporarily sealed away until his mind could mature enough to handle them.

For now, he was simply an unusual child, marked by extraordinary circumstances and watched carefully by those who could sense the weight of destiny.

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The first thing Indra noticed when he opened his eyes that morning was how different everything felt.

His five-year-old body seemed simultaneously foreign and familiar, like wearing clothes that belonged to you but had been stored away too long.

He sat up in his futon, dark eyes scanning the traditional Japanese room with new understanding.

The memories cascaded in like a breaking dam – not just of his five years as Indra Zenin, but of an entire lifetime before. Two sets of memories, two perspectives, all being part of a singular consciousness.

So this is what it means to be reborn with memory intact.

A smile curved his lips, one that would have looked unsettling on a child's face had anyone been present to witness it.

He understood now – the constant feeling that he had been waiting for something, the strange dreams that had plagued him, the intuitive understanding of concepts that many always stated should have been beyond a child's grasp.

Rising from his futon, Indra walked to the window. The Zenin compound sprawled before him, training grounds already active with early morning practice.

He could see his half-brother, Naoya, already at his exercises under the watchful eye of their father. The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard, and for the first time, Indra truly appreciated the power that lay dormant in this world of jujutsu.

His cursed energy stirred within him, responding to his awakened consciousness. It felt different now – more focused, more purposeful.

He with his awakening also gained intuitive knowledge and understanding of his cursed technique:

It being the ability to enchant, to imbue objects and even himself with attributes of his choosing. With various limits of course, since nothing that powerful can be used with ease.

"Young master?" A servant's voice called from outside his room. "Breakfast will be served soon."

"I'll be there shortly," Indra replied, his voice carrying the peculiar clarity that had always made the servants uncomfortable. Too mature, they would whisper. Too knowing for a child.

As he dressed in his training clothes, Indra began planning. He had five years of memories as the second son of the Zenin clan – the politics, the relationships, the expectations.

But now he also had the memories of another life, one that understood this world - though, he noted to himself.

This world is different. My own very existence makes it so. I can't rely on this knowledge beyond taking it as inspiration and reason for caution. 

Still though, certain constants remained. The Zenin clan's rigid hierarchy. The weight they placed on innate techniques.

Their obsession with strength and bloodline. And of course, the existence of Satoru Gojo, who even now was probably displaying the overwhelming potential of the Six Eyes and Limitless Technique.

Indra flexed his fingers, feeling cursed energy respond to his will. His technique was different from the usual Zenin inheritance.

No shadows, no projections, no straightforward applications of force. Instead, he had received something far more versatile – the ability to impose attributes upon reality itself.

The implications were staggering, if one had the wisdom to use such power properly. And now, with his awakened memories, he did.

"Young master?" The servant called again, more hesitant this time. "Your father insists on punctuality."

"Of course," Indra responded, sliding open the door with deliberate grace. The servant – Keiko, his memories supplied – took an involuntary step back.

Something in his bearing must have changed, because her eyes widened slightly before she quickly lowered her gaze.

The walk to breakfast would be his first test. How much of his changed nature should he reveal? How much should he conceal?

The Zenin clan was many things, but foolish wasn't one of them. They would notice any dramatic shifts in his behavior.

Balance, he decided. Let them see enough change to adjust their expectations, but not enough to raise alarm.

After all, he had time. And in this world time was perhaps the greatest advantage one could have.

He could hear voices from the dining room ahead – Naoya's sharp tones, his father's measured responses, the quiet presence of his mother Samira, and the carefully controlled voice of Yuki, Naoya's mother and Naobito's first wife.

Each interaction would need to be carefully calibrated now, though not too much. There needs to be spontaneousness in some actions, for Naobito is not a fool.

His father knows his son - especially the one he has been having an eye on quite a while, waiting for his cursed technique to emerge. 

The hierarchy though was clear: Yuki, as first wife and mother of the heir, held significant influence within the household.

Yet, his mother Samira carried herself with quiet dignity, never allowing her position as second wife to diminish her existence.

The tension between them was always subtle but present, like a silk thread pulled just shy of breaking.

Indra's smile returned, subtle but present.

The game was about to begin, and these family politics would be just the first move on a much larger board.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Do tell me how you found it.

As already stated in the synopsis, this is an AU, so expect a much bigger JJK world.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)