Takeru woke up already knowing something was off.
Not because of pain.
Not because of danger.
But because the weight of time felt wrong in his bones.
He sat up slowly.
And immediately noticed it.
His body was normal again.
Still strong.
Still him.
Still the version of himself that had lived through everything.
Muscles intact.
Cursed energy flow familiar.
"…Good," he muttered under his breath. "…At least I didn't get nerfed."
Next to him, Tiny Yuji stirred.
Then blinked awake.
Tiny Takeru sat up a moment later.
And froze.
He looked down at his arms.
Then flexed slightly.
Then frowned.
"…Where did my gains go."
Takeru looked over.
And sighed.
"…Yeah."
A pause.
"…You haven't done the training arc yet."
Tiny Takeru slowly processed that.
"…So I'm… pre-upgrade?"
"…Pretty much."
Tiny Yuji sat up too, looking around.
"…This place feels weird."
That was when the room fully came into focus.
Jujutsu High.
But not as they remembered it.
Not war-torn.
Not fractured.
Not heavy with loss.
This version felt early.
Like the world had been reset to a time before everything had fully broken.
Then they saw them.
Across the classroom.
Younger students.
But familiar.
Younger Nobara.
Younger Megumi.
Younger Yuta.
Younger Maki.
Younger Panda.
And others.
All intact.
All present.
All before everything went wrong.
But something else stood out.
They weren't alone.
Older versions were here too.
Same students.
But… future versions.
Standing quietly among them.
Watching.
Not speaking.
Like the timeline had layered itself incorrectly.
At the front of the classroom—
both Gojo stood there.
Younger Gojo.
Older Gojo.
Side by side.
Neither of them smiling.
Both of them holding something back.
"…No way," Yuji whispered.
Takeru exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah."
Tiny Takeru frowned.
"…Why does it feel like everyone already knows something we don't?"
No one answered.
Because the older ones were too busy trying not to show it.
Sukuna stood at the back of the classroom, arms crossed.
Silent.
Still.
But his eyes weren't sharp like usual.
They were… heavy.
"…Tch."
A low sound.
"…I hate this."
Not anger.
Not arrogance.
Something quieter.
Something buried.
Nanami stood near the wall, perfectly still.
Shoko nearby.
Hakari, Kirara, Kashimo, Yorozu, Reina, Hana, Aika—all of them present.
All of them silent.
All of them carefully controlling their expressions.
Trying not to break.
Because the younger students didn't understand.
They were just sitting normally.
Confused.
Waiting for class to start.
Megumi blinked.
"…Why does everyone look like they're about to cry?"
Yuta looked around nervously.
"…Did something happen?"
Panda tilted his head.
"…Is this like… first day anxiety?"
No answer came.
Because the older versions couldn't explain it without collapsing into it.
Takeru slowly looked around the room.
Then at Tiny Takeru.
Then at Tiny Yuji.
Then at the younger students.
"…This is wrong," he said quietly.
Tiny Yuji frowned.
"…What is?"
Takeru didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"…We're too early."
Tiny Takeru blinked.
"…Early for what?"
Takeru exhaled.
"…Everything."
A silence fell.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just heavy.
Both Gojo stood at the front of the room.
Still silent.
Still composed.
But their hands were clenched just slightly too tight.
Like holding back something that wanted to spill out.
The bell hadn't even rung yet.
But nobody moved.
Because everyone—old and new—could feel it.
Something had reset.
But not cleanly.
And whatever came next…
was going to happen again.