── .✦ "Who is the cutest baby I've ever seen in my life? You are~" Satoru said with a big smile gently tickling his mini copy, sitting in the fancy plush white carpet in your living room playing with him.
You were sitting on the couch watching over them with a warm gaze in awe due to how cute both of them were. Specially your son who was wearing a red outfit, that by the small hat in his head, you assumed it was apple themed.
This one was the eighth this week. Gojo said that every time he passes by the store there were new clothes, so he uses that as an excuse to buy one or two outfits for the baby, saying that his son has to be 'as fashionable as he is.'
You told him that your son already had enough clothes for any occasion imaginable, and that perhaps he's a little too addicted to buying baby clothes. But of course he just ignored you and said you were exaggerating.
"Ain't he the cutest baby?" Satoru said now lifting your son up to your level so you two can be face to face. The baby looked at you with with his big beautiful blue eyes that he shares with his father, and the red pacifier slightly moving in his mouth like he was waiting for you to confirm that he was indeed the cutest.
He stretches out his little arms to you and, you pick him up and start showering kisses all over his face, making him let out that sweet baby giggle that love so much.
"You're the cutest baby I've ever seen in my entire life my baby!" You said making exaggerate kiss noises and faces, making him giggles even more. Oh how you loved that sound.
Satoru then gets up from the carpet and sits beside you, putting his arm around you to hold you two in his arms. Now it's his time to watch the cute scene of you playing with your son, this was the cutest thing he've witnessed in a while, you always get a moment like that as a family sometimes.
He loved everything he had, his family, these moments, and even the money, to buy the baby clothes, that he intends to buy even more.
Something about the baby needing winter clothes. But it's not even autumn yet.
Note ⋆˚꩜｡ ﾟ.+:｡∩(・ω・)∩ﾟ.+:｡ tadaah. THIS BABY IS SO FREAKING CUTE!!
⋆˚✿˖°I literally have a board on Pinterest with various gojo's fanarts and etc for inspiration.
꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ CREDITS to the artist @Daumammam on X by the way, beautiful.‼️
♡₊˚ 🍫 Please do not copy, repost, or translate this work.
satoru gojo passing his sweet tooth on to his baby daughter 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ
husband!gojo x f!reader, dadjo, fluff | wc 1k
“satoru, i need this for a cake i’m baking next week. do not eat it, okay?”
you’re stood in the doorway to the living room, holding up a chocolate bar, your eyes fixed on your husband who’s currently sprawled out on the couch. clinging to your shoulder is your three year old daughter, big eyes lidded with exhaustion and a thumb in her mouth, her cheek pressed to your side as she tries not to drift asleep. you gently rock her every so often, your arm tucked under her body to hold her up.
satoru pouts at your words, half-wincing at the foreign sound of his actual name on your tongue rather than an affectionate nickname like you normally use — it sounds too cold, the sound empty and foreign on your lips.
he drags a hand down his face and pulls himself upright from his backwards slouch on the sofa to face you, brows furrowed and eyes wide with a look of mock betrayal.
“hey, what’s with that tone? it’s like you’re scolding me and i haven’t even done anything yet!”
you feel your daughter stir a little in your arms, momentarily waking from her shallow sleep. she straightens up to sleepily peer at her father and his tantrum, trying to gauge what’s going on. curious eyes flick between you both, soft ivory lashes batting sleepily as she tries to stay attentive, perked up like she understands the conversation between you both.
you roll your eyes at satoru’s childish display, retorting: “key word: yet. every time we buy chocolate it disappears by the next morning. just…i need this for a cake for the neighbours on thursday, okay?”
he lets out a loud, boyish sound, a mix between a whine and a groan — almost akin to the sound of an unhappy child rather than a fully grown man. satoru grumbles, scratching his neck as though deep in thought. he considers your words before eventually seeming to reach a conclusion. he finally meets your gaze once more, playfully putting a hand to his forehead in a mock salute and flashing a grin.
“okay fine…you’re lucky i love you.”
-
as it turns out, satoru gojo is a liar when it comes to anything sweet.
the last thing you expect at 1am on wednesday night is to hear whispering coming from downstairs, dragging you from your sleep. you groggily sit up, turning to find his side of the bed empty. the bed covers have clearly been haphazardly shoved off of his side, soft linen covers bunched up messily.
trying to rub the drowsiness from your eyes, you make your way downstairs only to find the door to the pantry just slightly ajar. flickers of hazy light lazily spill across the kitchen tiles, the door open just wide enough for satoru’s subdued voice to clearly reach your ears.
“shh….chew slowly, your mom’s gonna kill me if she wakes up to you choking—”
“..toru…?”
slowly, you push open the door — only to be met with the sight of your 6’3” husband sat on the floor, hunched up with your daughter in his arms. it’s almost laughable how out of place he looks, his lips smudged with chocolate and posture curled into a failed attempt at making himself smaller than he is. it was almost enough to make you laugh.
almost.
“satoru gojo!” your husband immediately flinches, hands instinctively tightening around your daughter as she blinks up at you curiously. her mouth is stained with chocolate too, eyes wide and curious, soft pools of blue mimicking those of her father.
“i told you not to eat it!” he immediately stands up as though on instinct, subsequently bumping his head against the bottom of one of the shelves. he shuts his eyes at the pain and rubs his head, messy hair still tussled from sleeping, before sheepishly grinning at you.
“…hi..?”
“don’t ‘hi’ me! you knew i needed that, i told you not to eat it—!”
he immediately cuts you off, expression half alarmed at your outburst.
“hey, no..c’mon sweets, you can’t blame me! she had a nightmare!” he extends his arms to show you your daughter in his arms, holding her in front of him like some kind of shield. with closer inspection and a slight pang in your chest, you notice that her eyes are somewhat damp, soft lashes downturned from the weight of recently-shed tears, and for a second you feel yourself softening — until you catch glimpse of your husband’s cheeky smile flickering across his features once again.
you really wanted to smack the stupid grin off of his face.
“fine, okay. so why did you have to eat it too?”
that stumps him. he stands there, momentarily stunned by the question, stood awkwardly in place like an oversized kid being scolded. your daughter yawns sleepily as satoru brings her back to his chest. she’s clearly content from the chocolate, peering up curiously at satoru’s face before resting her cheek against its rightful place on his shoulder, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. satoru rocks her gently in his arms before looking up at you, eyes wide and insistent.
“well i didn’t want her to feel guilty for eating your chocolate all alone!” he half-whispers, voice an octave higher as though completely scandalised by the idea. “it was in her best interest! don’t tell me you value the neighbours over her!”
“she’s three, she wouldn’t feel guilty over chocolate.”
“i’ve always told you she’s advanced for her age — she’s my daughter after all!”
“satoru.” you place your hand on your hip, eyes boring into his sceptically.
he breaks under your gaze, his petulant expression slightly softening and his pout melting as he groans playfully.
“okay, okay, i get it! fine, i’ll buy more tomorrow!”
you smile, rolling your eyes.
“good. now go put her back to bed.”
you watch as satoru nods, flashing a cheeky smile and sticking out his tongue before heading back to the kitchen, rocking your three year old in his arms. as he leaves, however, you overhear him murmuring softly to your daughter. his tone is fond, smoothed around the edges into a gentle half-whisper.
“seriously, the things i do for you, huh?”
author’s notes: he’s so silly gojo i miss you come back🙁he’s such a girl dad
also i’m sorry for the wait and that i haven’t posted in a short while ahhh💔
taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @stqrgumi @mariisagb @lilfluffybunny @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @pjslee @eyayur @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism + join!
divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!
Giggling at this new revelation you carry your 3 year old daughter in your arms, to her dad.
Satoru, looking up from the spot he was snoozing on the couch, lights up at the sight of his lovely wife, and their daughter.
Your daughter, the striking image of him, same frost-kissed hair, and facial structure except her eyes: one a sparkling blue and the other exactly like yours.
“Ladies ladies, calm down there’s enough of me to go around for everyone” your husband boasts taking your daughter into his arms.
Rolling your eyes at his self indulgent joke you nudge him, “Ask her what she thinks my name is”
“Love, I think she’s old enough for us not to be surprised at knowing you’re her mother”
“Shhh just do it” you pester, excited to see his reaction.
“Okay sweetie,” Satoru holds your daughters tiny hands, leading her attention to be entirely on him “Who is this?”
“Mommy!” your daughter squeals, causing your husband to coo in adoration.
“No sweets, what’s mommy’s name?” he tries again, trying to see what the fuss is about.
Your daughter looks at you and then back at her father, “Mommy’s name is love!”.
Satoru stares stunned, as you burst into laughter.
Understanding dawns on him, he always calls you that, his love, infront of your daughter.
“You’re to blame” you grin at him.
Satoru matches your expression “With that logic if I started calling you megatron…”
“Seriously?” you shake your head amused at both of them two peas in a pod.
satoru always said that to his baby. any time the smallest of the clan was in the grasp of their father, it was the same thing. but how couldn’t he.
with the chubby legs, small hands, and their cheeks— satoru could just bite them. hence his words.
and he would.
and your child? in giggles. their fit would put you into a fit yourself. the sound contagious as your husband would pretend to bite them. your stomach aching from how much you were laughing.
“mmph—” there it was.
a squeal following after. giggles and more giggles as satoru continued to nibble on the rolls of their arms up to their neck and onto their cheeks.
he pulled away to look at his child’s face. matching eyes stared back as baby leaned in and— mmph. you laughed. satoru’s nose scrunched at the contact before laughing himself.
your baby’s gummy mouth on his cheek as they cooed— pulling back with a strand of drool to follow. “you’re just like daddy, huh?” you ask wiping the wet patch on your husbands cheek before wiping your child’s mouth.
“obviously.” satoru grinned before num num nming on his kid.
contents: fluff, dad!gojo x mom!reader and baby hana! she's here to stay 😡😁 (hana means flower in japanese, so that's why i called her a little bloom)
an: it's almost midnight, i saw a tiktok comment saying something like this and i felt inspired so here you go
wc: 764
you were lying down with your baby girl, satoru sitting at the foot of the couch on his phone, blindfold tucked back like a headband after doing skincare together with him. hana was babbling, but she had quieted down in the past few minutes, just breathing together with you after a snack. spending the day with her aunt and uncle had left her tired, her older cousins were just full of so much more energy than her!
and so, when you whispered into her hair, "oh, baby, i'm tired," and your darling daughter replied with a drawn out, "me too, mama, i'm exhausted!" of course you gasped! she was almost eighteen months, and she'd started speaking earlier than most children her age, but you hadn't gotten a full sentence from her yet!
satoru burst out laughing, pressing something on his phone before chucking it somewhere on the table and launching himself at the two of you.
"what was that, baby? you're tired?" satoru immediately started the questioning, whilst you just watched her confused little face, a wide smile on your own.
hana stayed sat in your lap, on the thighs of your outstretched legs, your arms holding her sides stable.
to be fair, satoru was being over the top, as what she'd said sounded a little bit more like, "me'too, myuh-myuh, i' exhaushte'," but you could still understand what she meant, and you would take what you could get from her.
in only a few seconds, satoru is nuzzled up on your side, his back facing the rest of the living room, giving him reason the reach over your knees and hold onto the back of the couch for support while his free arm was tracing yours.
hana babbled a little more before her snowy brows furrowed and she shook her head, which in turn rotated her body from side to side as well, since the movement was so comically large for someone so small.
satoru poked her cheek once to get her attention, and waited until she turned her head to him. once her focus was on her dad, he blew a raspberry at her, which she reciprocated in a much more saliva-heavy manner. that saliva then dripped down onto you as did her frame, drooping like the little bloom she was.
"oh, baby spit. nice one, mr. gojo."
"please, that's my father's name. call me satoru. also, it doesn't hit the same when you're mrs. gojo."
"oh, well, of course. y'know, if you'll agree to help me get this sleepy girl down for a nap, and maybe clean up a bit of this spit, i might actually agree to that," you retorted, handing her off to her father, who was now crouching by the side of the sofa and gladly accepting his daughter.
with her soft eyes closed, hana looked exactly like her father. warm, sleepy, starkly pale. somehow, the gojo genes had come on top once again, though satoru had prayed that maybe she'd look a little like you.
after setting her down for said nap, satoru watched his greatest feat snooze soundly on his chest, his eyes unwillingly taking in every detail of her, though it wasn't unwelcome. while he had occasions where he wished he could close his eyes and not see like you, he was grateful for his constant perception when it came to hana. there wasn't a second yet—nor would there ever be—when satoru gojo would feel completely at peace not knowing his daughter was safe in his arms.
you padded into the room, your socks tiptoeing with soft shuffles on the carpeted nursery floor as you approached your husband and the product of your love for him.
"hey, baby. hana's asleep?"
he shifted his chin on her head for half a second, then he turned his gaze to you, the intense blue tracking your figure as he mumbled, "yeah, yeah, she's down."
"out for the count, huh? sleepy baby."
with that, you finally roll yourself onto the blanket he'd laid on the floor for himself and hana, joining them in the bubble of hush the presence of limitless seemed to create.
"i think i want another one."
instead of balking dramatically, he gave you a tired side-eye. "baby, no."
"why not?"
"your body only finished the biggest parts of recovering about six months ago, i'm not doing that to you again. i remember how painful it was, how much you hated it..."
you pout, subconsciously tracking the tip of your pinky up and down hana's little nose while you mumbled out, "the epidural wasn't even that bad."
"you screamed when they took it out to show you. in fear, might i add. and i don't want to see you so pale and tired for while yet, okay?"
"but we can have another one? i don't want hana to be lonely, toru."
"i know, loneliness isn't easily adjusted to."
after some undetermined amount of time, the sun had set and satoru's breath had shifted direction from hana to your chest, almost breathing down your shirt as he stayed stuck between the lands of consciousness and dreaming. you barely heard it, but he muttered out a small, "i filmed it."
"hmm? filmed what, baby?"
"hana. 'was filming you two, got her first sentence."
♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: one year ago, you & your husband, Satoru, adopted two of his teenage students, Yuji & Megumi. Also, your biological daughter is now five years old, and it seems that every member of the Gojo household is experiencing their fair share of troubles and keeping secrets, yourself included. What exactly is going on this week?
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || fluff, angst, brief description of smut, brief descriptions of violence, canonverse, fem reader, mentions of depression, skipped meals, & suicidal thoughts, pregnancy, & gojo being the best dad and husband ever!
♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: . . . 9k . . . :)
♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary. || artwork by @/3-aem, ribbon dividers by @/cursed-carmine!
YOUR STORY — DAY ONE
Two positive pregnancy tests rested in the palm of your hand, one showing two vertical pink lines, while the other casually presented the utterly life-changing word: Pregnant.
How unsurprising.
It was only a matter of time — after all, your husband was like an animal, tossing, turning, and twisting you every possible way whenever he could get some alone time with you.
It was impossible to know which night of love-making had led to your current conundrum: Was it the night all of your kids spent their Saturday evening elsewhere? Or, perhaps, the time Satoru had you in a mating press position on a hotel bed? No, it had to have been the time he returned home from a mission amidst your solo shower, and his lack of patience led to him slipping in behind you, and furthermore, slipping into you, all the while his hand-
“Ready?”
Satoru’s voice suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts. He stepped out of the master bathroom, buttoning up his shirt as he walked. You quickly hid the pregnancy tests under your thigh while his all-knowing blue eyes weren’t on you.
“Ready for what?” You said nervously.
“Don’t tell me the same person who rambled on and on about wanting to go to the festival already forgot about it,” Satoru glanced at you briefly. He approached your dresser, grabbing his blacked-out sunglasses. “The kids are waiting. I don’t think Yuji’ll be too happy if he misses the lantern show. And you and I need to do that thing where we share a churro and kiss at the end-”
“Okay, okay, I’m almost ready.”
Despite your words, you hadn’t yet risen from your spot on the edge of the bed.
Satoru turned to face you. He frowned with concern. “You alright?”
The truth was that you weren’t ready to tell Satoru that, soon, there would be another addition to the Gojo household. Your hesitation was odd. This was something you both wanted, and yet . . .
And yet, the news, while delightful, was also worrisome, as the Gojo household was currently experiencing its fair share of troubles within the past couple of months — and you weren’t quite sure what adding a newborn baby to the mix would do.
Stressful times tended to occur when over half of the beloved household fought curses and curse users, both of which were more active during the summer season.
Satoru was occasionally away on important trips to other countries and continents. Your adopted teenagers, Megumi and Yuji, — who had been part of your family officially for a solid year now — were often injured in battle. Meanwhile, Maya, your biological daughter, was arriving closer and closer to starting elementary school.
Your little girl learning all sorts of things about math, animals, and books that were longer than ten, twenty pages was a beautiful sight to see.
She was no longer a toddler, but rather, a child now, and was learning all sorts of things such as numbers that went beyond ten, beyond twenty, and even beyond fifty. There were animals — insanely cool ones, more exciting than the cows and sheep she learned about in preschool — who lived in either the forests or the sea!
There were moments of tragedy of course, such as the day she learned that her dear parents, her beloved mom and dad, were not named Mom and Dad.
Oh, the poor girl cried and sobbed, her chubby cheeks puffy and wet with tears, all while Satoru held her and softly explained to her that he would always be her daddy, she would always address him as so, but in truth, his name was Satoru Gojo.
And your name was not simply Mom or Mommy.
What a troubling day.
But that part was fine. Everything from giggling while you or her dad marked her height by using a pencil to draw a line above her head on her doorframe, enthusiastically saying, “you’re getting so big now!” to learning to sing and dance along to classic Barbie films, to crying her eyes out when she fell down during a game of tag with her friends were all parts of getting older, and it was fine.
Her having to go days or weeks at a time without seeing her dad was not.
Having to soothe her worries and fears whenever Yuji and Megumi returned home from missions with new scars and scratches decorating their skin was not.
And, worst of all, her becoming aware of her own cursed energy and being able to see those terrifying creatures was not.
A few weeks ago, after Maya saw her very first curse across the street while going down a slide at a playground, Satoru had to sit his daughter down and explain everything to her. It was a task that broke his heart.
Afterwards, he crawled into bed with you, sighing heavily.
“She was just learning about the alphabet around what, one, two, three years ago?” Satoru exhaustedly rested his head on your lap, staring up at you with sad, blue eyes. “God, I can’t keep up. She’s growing up so fast. And now she’s seeing curses. I knew this day would come, but now her childhood will never be the same.”
You turned on the lamp on your nightstand with a light tap at the base of it. With your other hand, you gently stroked the spot between Satoru’s furrowed brows with your thumb as his long legs stretched out across your enormous bed.
“We just have to teach her not to be afraid of them. Just as we explained what curses are, we have to explain to her who she is.”
The daughter of the world’s strongest sorcerer, she was.
“I thought I was ready for this. Looking after Megumi when he was a kid, learning about his power, and trying to protect him from that sick Zenin clan . . . thought that experience would prepare me for this. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. Now we have to teach our muffin and protect her from the jujutsu society as a whole.”
“Tell me about it,” you frowned. “I get at least ten emails daily from the higher-ups, all of them wondering if she’s ready to start training. She’s five years old. I told them all to go to hell.”
Satoru laughed softly, then he yawned before he started to speak again.
“I’m sure she’ll want to become a sorcerer, but if she does, I want it to be her decision. I don’t want her to feel pressured to follow in my footsteps, get what I mean?”
Your fingertips started to mess with the strands of Satoru’s white hair.
“I think the best choice would be to work with her, make sure she understands what curses are and what she can do, but also do everything we can to give her a normal life. I don’t care if she learns a cursed technique before she learns how to multiply, but no one will take her childhood away from her.”
With that, you and Satoru sealed off the end of your conversation with a kiss, but nothing more, as about five minutes later, gentle pitter-patter could be heard from the hallway as your daughter made her way to your room and hopped into your bed, snuggling right in between you and Satoru.
After seeing her first curse, she was much too scared to sleep alone.
Dealing with Maya’s current situation had your hands full. Along with all the additional chaos surrounding your entire family, you were also busy being the multitasking mother and wife everyone needed you to be. Keeping everyone fed, healthy, and happy was quite the challenge, especially when you could do very little to keep them safe in a world possessed by such evil — and they were the ones who had to fight against it. Not to mention the horrific fact that your son was quite literally possessed by the embodiment of evil — Sukuna.
Oh! And if that wasn’t enough, Satoru’s other students, old and new, often came to you for motherly love and affection they could never experience elsewhere. Though you welcomed everyone with open arms, you were tired.
Tired, and, apparently, pregnant.
—
“Alright, everyone ready? Everyone have their coats? Anyone have to pee before we hit the road?” Satoru, who stood before the double front doors of your home, scanned his watchful eyes over the bunch.
“The festival’s only fifteen to twenty minutes away,” Megumi said.
“And I bet Yuji’ll have to pee in ten.” Satoru darted his eyes across the dark-haired boy’s casual outfit, which amounted to a short-sleeved black shirt and a pair of grey jeans. “And you’re not wearing a coat.”
Suddenly, Satoru felt a tiny tug at the back of his pants leg. Turning around, he caught sight of Maya — just when did she get behind him?
With a smile, he reached down to ruffle the young girl’s hair, noting the nervous look on her face. After her first experience with a curse, it was quite rare for the young girl to not have eyes that glistened with pure fright.
“At least this one’s being so well behaved, aren’t you, muffin?” Satoru said sweetly.
“Can you pick me up?”
“Of course, sweet girl, hang on.” Satoru raised and turned his head to where Yuji was standing. “Yuji, did you-”
He cut himself off. There was nothing except an empty space where Yuji once stood. “Where’d he go?”
“Bathroom,” you mumbled.
“Right,” Satoru gave you a quick smile — he noticed your silence today. It was nice to hear your voice at all.
Looking at his other teenage son, or, rather, his uncovered arms, Satoru said, “Megumi, go get your coat.”
“But I’m not cold.”
“You can thank our new heated floors for that, but it’s cold outside, buddy, and you had a fever a couple days ago. I don’t want this bipolar weather making you sick again.”
“Cold weather itself doesn’t make someone sick, it’s actually-”
“Daddy, pick me up! Pick me up!” Maya whined, tugging on Satoru while her small feet impatiently tapped against the floor; the new, heated one, which was part of the renovations made to your home last month. More chaos.
“Hold on, forgot to wash my hands. Be right back,” Yuji suddenly said, and vanished as quickly as he had arrived.
Satoru didn’t sigh with annoyance, didn’t let his face reflect even the slightest hint of frustration. Instead, he continued to grin, handling the chaos just as easily as he handled curses.
“Come here, I gotcha,” Satoru lifted Maya, holding her in his arms. “Ya know, daddy’s gonna have to put you down to drive, right?”
“No!”
Maya leaned her head against his shoulder. Satoru turned to face Megumi yet again, noticed his lack of a coat yet again, and said playfully, “Megumi, put on a coat or jacket or else I’ll ground you for twelve to fifteen years, kid.”
“Fine,” the teenager rolled his eyes before walking off.
Gently, Satoru gave his daughter’s chubby cheek a little pinch — she squealed from the ticklish feeling — and he then placed his large hand over the little ear that wasn’t leaning against his shoulder before he shouted, “anyone who isn’t in the car in the next three minutes is getting left behind!”
“I would’ve been in the car if you weren’t making me grab a coat,” Megumi called back.
“You’ll thank me when you’re not dying of pneumonia,” Satoru shouted, then mumbled under his breath, “again.”
And with that, you watched as, somehow, someway, Satoru effectively managed to get a moody teenager, a hyper one, a clingy child, and you, his oddly quiet wife, to the annual Night Lights Festival.
—
The lakeside festival was a crowded, yet beautiful display of festive red and yellow decorations and lanterns that brightened the night sky. Live musicians banged on drums or strung their instruments, playing upbeat tones. A parade of dancers passed by, and lively chatter surrounded you.
Around thirty minutes into the festival, Yuji’s face was decorated with face paint, neck adorned with beads and necklaces dancers tossed at him, blush-pink hair covered by an enormous red and yellow hat, and he held a bag of popcorn in one hand and his favorite soda in the other.
Megumi, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of the large crowd and never-ending music. He did, however, notice a person doing magic tricks with their two enormous dogs, and he stopped to watch the show. Maya, who was previously sitting on her dad’s shoulders, eagerly climbed down, eager to watch the dog show as well.
And by then, Yuji had seen something exciting and ran off. Yet again.
That left you alone with Satoru. Your smiling husband took hold of your hand. Though you gave him a smile back, it didn’t reach your eyes, and he could tell.
Guiding you away from the flow of traffic and closer towards the red bridge that stretched over the beautiful lake with lights dancing above the water — where fewer people mingled, fortunately — Satoru said, “What’s the matter, baby? You’re awfully quiet.”
“Sorry,” you shrugged, unable to look him in the eye. Not while you were telling a lie. “I was just thinking about how well you handle our chaotic family.”
“You know me. Handling chaos is just what I do. I think part of me loves it, actually, considering we’re trying to add on a new member to the family.”
His words made your heart skip a beat. The topic of pregnancy and having another child was nearly a daily discussion between you and Satoru, that was a fact, but now, when your pregnancy test came back positive and you hadn’t yet found the nerve to tell him, hearing those words struck a chord of fear within you.
“I don’t know, honey. I thought that I could handle all this. Don’t get me wrong, please don’t get me wrong, but . . . Megumi and Yuji are at that age where fighting curses is the last thing they need to worry about. Being a teenager is rough enough as it is. Megumi’s attitude is-is just . . . and Yuji stinks sometimes no matter how often he bathes. He just stinks. And seeing them and their friends covered in wounds after a mission . . . it’s just too much. I can’t help but wonder if we’re mature enough to handle it. It’s not like we’re the same age as most parents who have teenagers. Remember what happened a couple of months ago when I treated Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi to the movies and a shopping spree? Two cashiers at two different places thought I was friends with all of them. Friends!
Then there’s Megumi’s depression. I’ve been researching therapists, specifically ones I trust who work with young sorcerers, but there’s only like, two. And I doubt I could get him to talk to someone anyway. Oh, and while I was doing the laundry the other day, I found a crumpled-up piece of paper with a phone number written on it in Yuji’s pocket. I’m thinking a girl gave it to him. That means it’s time to talk to the boys about dating and everything that comes with it, right? I mean, we pretty much raised Megumi long before we adopted him, so I-I know he’s . . . educated, but what about Yuji? Do we just assume that his grandpa taught him everything he needs to know about, well, everything? What if his grandpa taught him things that we’d disagree with morally? No . . . Yuji’s a sweet kid, I doubt that.
I don’t know, I’m just so overwhelmed. Then there’s Sukuna, and what the higher-ups want to do to Yuji because of Sukuna . . . is that why we adopted him? To give him a good life before he’s executed? Or did we truly think we could find a way out of this? Because I love him more and more with every passing day and . . . and don’t even get me started on everything going on with Maya right now.
I don’t just mean the curse thing, either. My friend Jane told me that she stopped carrying her son when he turned four. Maya’s five now, and it seems like she doesn’t ever want to be put down. I have no idea if that’s normal. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s always been a bit clingy and sensitive, but there are certain things that-that she hasn’t grown out of yet and with this curse bullshit, she’s even more dependent on us than what my research says a five year old should be. I bet you being away for weeks at a time is part of it. I know I cling to you like a koala to a tree when you come back home, and part of that is because I’m always so terrified of what might happen to you while you’re away. I love you too much. The idea of something happening to you kills me, Satoru.
I thought that I was this amazing person who could take care of everyone who stepped through our door, but here I am, freaking out while we’re just trying to enjoy a nice festival. Maybe I should just-”
“Momma! Dad! There you are!” Yuji suddenly returned, this time, with a tiny tray of lantern-shaped cookies and a bag of souvenirs. “C’mon, the lantern show’s about to start!”
The excitable teenager once again started to dash away, and you started to follow, when Satoru’s large hands suddenly grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your footsteps.
“Hey, hey, wait,” he said. His fingers found your chin, turning your head in his direction. He planted a kiss that held all the gentle love he felt for you right on your lips. “I hear you, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later, alright?”
“You say that as if we can ever have a moment of peace and quiet, but thanks for listening.” You gave him a sad smile, and he kissed you yet again.
The night ended with you and Satoru holding onto a beautiful lantern and releasing it together into the starry night sky. Watching your lantern join the countless other ones in the sky as you leaned against your husband’s chest was a temporary moment of relief from the chaos.
MEGUMI’S STORY — DAY FOUR
It happened.
The breaking point.
The final straw.
Reaching the limit — whatever it was, it happened.
Megumi told you something the day after the Night Lights Festival. Something that he now regretted as he slipped on his black hoodie.
“Megumi, let’s go!” You shouted from the foyer.
As you waited for him, your eyes darted up at Satoru, who was adjusting the hood on your head. It was a rainy, gloomy day, after all. Oh, a gloomy day it was.
“Hey, it’ll be alright. I know it. And I know you’re busy, but when you have the time, we should talk. We never finished our conversation from the other day. The one we were having at the festival,” Satoru said.
“Right, well,” you paused, hearing Megumi’s quiet footsteps approaching. “It’ll have to wait.”
“Let’s go,” you said to Megumi, all the while trying — trying — to ignore the pained look of betrayal in his eyes.
—
The car ride was a long, quiet one.
The atmosphere was tense. Odd. Heartbreaking. Therefore, you clenched the steering wheel and made the tough decision to speak to the boy in the passenger seat.
“Megumi? After your session, I was thinking we could stop by a bookstore, see what’s new in the nonfiction section. Get some black coffee, pick up some ginger chicken, whatever you want.”
“Sure.”
“And don’t worry. The first session is usually nothing more than you and the therapist getting to know each other. And the psychiatrist will mainly just ask you a bunch of questions. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
“Alright.”
You slowed to a stop at a red light. A sigh escaped from you.
“I know you don’t wanna go, but we’re doing this ‘cause we care about you. We’re worried about you.”
Megumi turned his gaze away from the raindrops on the car window. A therapist. A psychiatrist. A collaborative care plan.
“You think there’s something wrong with me.”
“No, not at all!” You looked at him, your eyebrows pinched. “You’ve gone through a lot, and there’s nothing wrong with needing some help. Everyone needs it at some point.”
“I haven’t gone through anything Yuji hasn’t, and I don’t see him in the car.”
You were silent for a moment. Nothing could be heard except for the raindrops splattering against the roof of the car. The traffic light changed colors.
“When will this competition end? Comparing yourself to your brother?” You paused. “You’re both very different people with very different needs, and-”
“And you think there’s something wrong with me.”
There wasn't that familiar attitude in Megumi’s voice. There was pain. But, heartbreakingly, that pain was a familiar tone as well.
You wanted to look at him, grab his shoulders, and shake some sense into him, do something. Anything. But you could only crank up your windshield wiper and make a left turn.
“You were getting better, Megumi. I saw it. But now? Now it feels like you’re moving backwards. You and I have started to bond, haven’t we? We’d spend quality time together, even if it was just the two of us washing dishes. You even called me mom once. You came to me the other night for comfort and advice, and now I-I feel like you’re just . . . slipping away and I won’t just sit back and let it happen. Please stop pulling away from us, okay? I’m here for you. Your family is here for you.”
“I told you the truth the other day, and look where it’s gotten me. You think I’m fragile. Like I’m weak and I’m gonna break. And now you’re dragging me to meet a therapist and psychiatrist. Being honest with you has only backfired, so . . . I think it’s best if I pull away.”
“What do you expect me to do when my son, my son, looks me in the eyes one night and tells me he doesn’t see the point in living anymore? Do you just-just expect me to, what, sit back and do nothing as I watch you continue to skip meals again? Stay curled up in bed? Hear from your friends over and over again that you were careless with your own life in battle?” You slowed down as you drove; you could barely see, not only because of the heavy rain, but also the tears brimming within your waterline. “This is what it means to be loved by a family, Megumi. I know you didn’t ask for this, and you can hate me and your dad all you want, but I suggest you get used to it, because I’m not giving up on you. None of us are. You understand me? Do you understand me?”
Megumi’s gaze returned to the raindrops on the window. His hands were starting to tremble — he wanted to cry. He didn’t answer you, not now, because he didn’t understand.
He thought he did once. He thought he wrapped his mind around familial love and understood that he was loved and cared for — and he still does. Part of him, the logical side, knows he’s loved and cared for, but maybe, just maybe, that was part of the problem.
He got sick easily. Got injured easily. Didn’t like very many things. Turned away from affection. Was a picky eater — it made him feel like a burden to his family, who he knew loved him and went out of his way to make him comfortable, be it you preparing ginger chicken over a bed of rice while everyone else dined on honey-garlic glazed salmon, or giving up loud family movie nights to play quiet board games with him occasionally.
But right now? It didn’t matter to him whether he understood the concept of familial love or not. He trusted you with something, and this betrayal? He couldn’t understand it.
But right now? When his spirit was crushed and he dreaded every sunrise that marked another day of living? When you parked in front of the beige office building and took him inside for his very first session?
He could understand one thing: his desire to have never been born.
YUJI’S STORY — DAY FIVE
It was warm today. The rapidly changing weather switched back and forth between hot and sunny or cold and rainy as if it couldn’t decide which of the four seasons it wanted to mimic, nevermind what season it actually was.
And, damn it all, Satoru took advantage of temporary warm weather by standing over his smoking outdoor grill, but not because he craved warmth and anything that reminded him of peaceful summer days, but because one of Yuji’s favorite foods happened to be Satoru’s grilled burgers, and Yuji was having a bad day today.
With one hand, Satoru flipped the burgers over with a spatula. They still needed quite a bit of cooking. With the other hand, he raised his blacked-out sunglasses, gazing at the back of his house.
It had been a while since he last checked on the moping boy. His other moping boy, Megumi, was fast asleep after Satoru coaxed him into eating by bringing a food tray to his room that held an apple he sliced, a basic sandwich — Megumi didn’t like too many toppings — and his new antidepressants.
A short distance away, Maya was plopped down in her sandbox, digging around with a colorful, tiny shovel.
“Muffin?” Satoru called out. When the young girl looked at him and tilted her head a bit, he asked, “Want a juice box, sweet girl?”
She eagerly hopped to her feet, took a moment to shake off as much sand as she could, singing under her breath, “shake, shake, shake, shake off the sand . . . shake, shake, shake, shake off the sand.”
Afterwards, Maya and Satoru stepped through the back door. Once he sat the young girl down at the nook table in the corner of the gourmet kitchen, gave her a juice box and told her to stay put — only after putting his lips on the skin of her arm and blowing a raspberry to make her giggle, of course — he then headed upstairs to go check on Yuji.
—
“I wanna kill that annoying punk you call your father first.”
It was Sukuna’s rotten voice. Yuji was digging through the drawer of clothes in his spacious bedroom when the king of curses manifested himself on the side of Yuji’s face.
“Shut up,” Yuji mumbled.
“Who would be fun to kill next? Let me think . . . that pretty mother of yours? Your little sister? That little girl’s becoming sensitive to cursed energy now, right? Does your family know she won’t come near you anymore, ‘cause she can sense me? The evil inside of you? We made her cry and run away the other day. Remember that?”
“Shut up. Just shut up already.”
“You think these people really trust you as a vessel to keep me in check, huh? I bet they’re hoping you die and take me with you-”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up-”
“How do you think it’d feel, brat? Your own body being used to kill the useless humans you call your family? Your face being the last face they see as they die a slow, painful death?”
“Shut the hell up!”
He was shouting — he didn’t realize it, not until the silence that ringed afterward made him realize just how loud he had been.
Yuji heard two knocks at his door. When he failed to respond, whoever seeked entry twisted the knob and opened it.
“Yuji?”
“Sorry, I’m fine.” Yuji glanced at Satoru standing in his doorway. With a bundle of clothes in his hand, Yuji paused, watching his dad glance over the top of his sunglasses, his all-seeing eyes scanning Yuji from top to bottom. “Stop it.”
“He’s bothering you again, huh? Wanna talk about it?” Satoru stepped into his bedroom.
Yuji shook his head, mumbling an inaudible, “no.” He tossed the clothes in his hands on his bed — they fell with a soft plop — and suddenly, the tears started to fall.
He couldn’t help it by then. The teenager found himself turning around and wrapping his arms around Satoru, who didn’t waste a second before hugging him back.
“It’s okay, kid. It’s okay,” Satoru said soothingly, rubbing his back.
“Most days, I can ignore him pretty easily and not let his words get to me, but . . .”
“But ever since he scared Maya, you can’t help but listen to him.”
Yuji gasped.
It was the secret he had been keeping since it happened.
“You knew about it?” Yuji pulled away from Satoru, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Not ‘til now. I was listening at the door,” Satoru said.
“You say he scared Maya, but don’t you mean me? It’s ‘cause of Sukuna, yeah, but it's not like he was taking over my body when she got scared. It was just . . . me. It’s his fault, but it’s still me. Does that make any sense?” Yuji looked down at the floor. “Megumi’s always been her favorite sibling, and I get it, she’s known him her whole life and stuff, but . . . not only am I her least favorite member of the family, but now she’s downright scared of me. Do you think that means I should live on campus for a while? It’s not fair for Maya to be scared of someone in her own home. She’s your biological kid, so she comes first. I’m just the one you adopted last year-”
“And you’re just as much a member of this family as she is.” Satoru interrupted Yuji with a stern tone he wasn’t used to. “Just give it time, Yuji. Your mom and I are working on a way to get her used to . . . all this. And in the meantime, don’t let Sukuna get to you. I know that’s easier said than done, but just you wait. I’m gonna find some sorta loophole where I can kill him for good, and still keep you alive and well. I don’t care how long it takes.”
“You’re pretty optimistic.”
“Well, you’re my boy, Yuji. I’ll be damned if you don’t become old and gray someday.”
Yuji gave Satoru another hug, but this time, instead of tears, it was with a soft smile. Though his heart hadn’t fully accepted Satoru’s words, nor had his mind accepted that he had a right to stay home, he couldn’t help but giggle when his dad called him that affectionate term.
“Damn right I’m your boy!” Yuji exclaimed.
“Hey, watch your mouth.”
“Sorry. Can we play baseball together soon?”
MAYA’S STORY — DAY SIX
It was somewhere between noon and evening, the big house a warming shade of yellow and orange from the setting sun peeking in through the open windows, and Maya crept down the hallways with her doll clenched tightly against her chest.
Sneaking around her home wasn’t fun — not nearly as fun as the show the The Backyardigans made sneaking seem to be in the episode she watched with dad last week. Secret agents, they were.
She tried singing the little Secret Agent song in her head, tried to pretend that she was on some fun, grand adventure, but in truth, she was scared.
She was coming out of her bedroom when she heard footsteps in the hallway, and she felt it. That . . . that energy. That spirit.
Everyone in her family had that same energy, she could feel it, but unlike her dad or Megumi, this energy wasn’t friendly. It was as scary as the big monsters she swore lived under her bed when she was younger — and though dad held her tight and told her he kicked all the monsters out and scared them away, that wasn’t true. Because sometimes, she still saw monsters! Like the one she saw at the park the other day! And she swore — she swore — her big brother was one of them. He was the one with the unfriendly energy.
A little while ago, she ran up to Yuji, eager to share her grapes with him, and that was the first time she felt it. She ran away crying, shrieking away from him when he tried to follow her and ask her what was wrong. Ever since then, she would only go near him if others were around. It broke her little heart. She loved Yuji! So why, just why, did he have to turn out to be one of those scary monsters?
Maya peeked her head around the corner of her door frame and saw Yuji, who was opening a hallway closet.
“Umbrella, umbrella, umbrella. Where is it?” He mumbled to himself in a bored tone, searching the shelves for, apparently, an umbrella.
Why was he here right now, of all places? He wouldn’t move either, which meant . . . she would have to walk past him to reach the bathroom.
She wanted to cry. Where was Dad? He’d hold her, and together, they could make it past that scary monster.
Maya turned in the opposite direction of the bathroom, dashing away as quickly and quietly as she could, not wanting to draw his attention. Her heart was pounding. She then made a quick turn into what was the upstairs gameroom, and there you were! You were fluffing one of the pillows on the couch when you turned your head, smiling at the sight of your daughter running towards you, but your smile quickly vanished as the corners of your lips pointed downward, your brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked.
“I have to pee-pee and there’s a monster in the hallway!”
Your frown deepened in pure confusion.
You knew quite well there wasn’t a monster in the hallway, but before you could question the young girl, she was reaching up, grabbing hold of your hand with her little one — the one that wasn’t holding her doll — and she pulled you along.
There was no one in the hallway except Yuji.
You figured that, perhaps, there was some sort of weird decoration in the hallway that scared her, but when you glanced down, you saw her wide, fear-filled eyes were locked on Yuji.
“Maya, what’s the matter?” You questioned. “Mommy doesn’t understand what you’re scared of.”
You weren’t exactly whispering like Maya hoped you would, and your words caught Yuji’s attention. He turned away from the hideous ponchos in his hands, looking in your direction with a small, “hm?” when, all of a sudden, Maya dropped your hand, raising a trembling finger as she pointed at her brother.
“Monster,” she cried out.
A shocked gasp escaped your lips. You never would have expected your sweet girl to call someone such a thing, let alone her brother. “Now Maya, that is not nice. We don’t call people things that we wouldn’t want them to call us. You owe your brother an apology.”
Yuji shut the door of the hallway closet, locking eyes with his sister. Maya shrieked, dropping her doll.
“Mommy!” She grabbed, pulled, and yanked at your shirt and pants, practically trying to climb up your body and jump into your arms.
Tears fell from her eyes as she cried, “Make him go away! Make him go away!”
No parenting book had prepared you for this, whatever this was.
The terrified girl’s nails were digging into your flesh; you had no choice but to pick her up.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you said soothingly, but the fright in your voice was crystal clear.
You gave Yuji a look of panicked confusion, one that begged for answers to the obvious question, but when you looked at him — even from the distance between you both — you could see the tears streaming down his face.
“Make him go away, mommy! Make him go away!” Maya cried.
Yuji sniffled, wiping his tears off on his sleeves before turning away.
“Wait, Yuji- Maya, it’s okay, I don’t . . .”
Suddenly, with Megumi following, Satoru was making his way up the stairs before Yuji could descend them, forcing the crying sorcerer to stay put.
Yuji tried his hardest to weave around Satoru, but Satoru gripped his shoulders.
“Aht, aht, aht, you’re not going anywhere.”
“But I’m scaring her!”
“Yuji, will you please tell me what’s going on?” You cradled your sobbing daughter’s head.
“Here, Megumi,” Yuji reached around Satoru, tossing Megumi two mustard-yellow ponchos he found.
Megumi caught it and started to descend the steps without another word.
Satoru frowned.
“You two mind telling me why you need ponchos when there isn’t a cloud in the sky?”
There was no answer. Megumi continued to walk down the steps, Maya continued to sob, and Yuji continued to wipe his streaming tears, his path blocked by Satoru.
“I asked you two a question. Yuji, your mother asked you a question.”
“We’re packing our bags and leaving. We can’t stay here.”
It was Megumi who stopped walking and answered.
You could handle quite a bit, but this? This was what finally made the tears fall.
When that very first sniffle interrupted the silence, your entire family turned to face you.
It was too much. Everything. Every bit of it.
With Maya in your arms — her little tantrum had dwindled to silent sobs now — you left the hallway, stepping into the closest room you could find.
Satoru was a man who could walk through Hell with a grin on his face. He was an easygoing person, one who could tolerate everything from strong curses, the attitudes of teenagers — perhaps his own occasional lack of maturity helped him out with that — but, the one thing he could not simply grin and bear?
Seeing his wife upset.
Satoru slowly turned his head between Megumi and Yuji, looking at their guilt-ridden faces. He clenched his jaw.
“You two. Living room. Now. I’m not messing around, and don’t you dare talk back to me.”
Satoru moved past Yuji, and the boy swore he could feel the anger radiating off of him like heat.
The pissed-off man watched his sons drag their feet into the living room, Megumi’s hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his black sweatshirt while Yuji had his head down, messy hair unusually flat like he was a kicked puppy, and Satoru then stepped into the room you occupied with Maya.
You were sitting on the ottoman in front of the bed. Kneeling in front of you, Satoru looked at you with all the softness he held for you in his overwhelmed heart, and he stroked your tears away with his thumb.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry.” He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. He then repeated the same act of love with Maya. “Both of my sweet girls are crying. You’re killing me.”
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, taking a deep breath as if to soothe yourself. “It’s just been a long, long week. I don’t wanna make them feel guilty for how they feel by crying in front of them, I swear I don’t, but . . . I think hearing them say that was my final straw.”
Satoru rose to his feet. He scooped Maya out of your arms, and said, “Come to the living room. We all need to work it out.”
The living room was softly lit by two lamps. From one of the couches where Megumi and Yuji sat, Yuji wiped away one of his own tears, then gently knocked his knee against Megumi’s.
“You okay?” Yuji asked.
Megumi didn’t answer for a while, his eyes glued on the living room floor.
“No.” Megumi’s voice was soft. “Are you?”
“No.”
Megumi and Yuji gave each other a sympathetic smile. Just then, they heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. You came down, following Satoru — who held Maya — and you all found yourself grabbing a spot on one of the couches.
Satoru started to speak to the young girl holding on to him.
“Muffin, look at Yuji.”
Maya looked up at Satoru with precious eyes filled with uncertainty.
“Don’t be scared. It’s okay. Just look at him.”
She was hesitant, found herself clenching Satoru’s shirt even tighter, but . . . but eventually, she turned her head and looked at her older brother, who bounced his leg out of pure nervousness and old habit, his face a mess of falling — and seemingly never-ending — tears.
“You see that?” Satoru pointed. “He’s crying. Do you know why he’s crying?”
Maya looked up at her dad, shaking her head with a small pout.
“He’s crying because you’re hurting his feelings, muffin. Calling him a monster and running away from him is making him sad, so sad that he wants to run away from home, sweet girl, and none of us want that to happen.” Maya blinked at him, and Satoru continued. “Yuji isn’t like that monster you saw at the park. Your brother is actually this super-duper strong, super-duper awesome, super-duper great person who’s keeping a monster at bay, so the monster can’t hurt anyone someday. He’s a hero, one who puts himself in harm's way to try and protect other people, and he loves you very, very much. Isn’t that cool? To have a brother who’s that brave, kind, and strong?”
Maya tilted her head to the side, the gears in her brain turning, and she nodded slowly.
When you started to speak, Maya looked over at you.
“You have a family of people who fight those scary monsters you’ve seen all the time. In fact, your dad is the strongest monster-fighter in the whole world. None of them can lay a hand on him because of how strong he is. And guess what?”
“What?” Maya squeaked out.
“You’re his daughter, so that really strong monster-fighter strength has been passed on to you,” you smiled. “Nothing bad will happen to you, honey. Everyone in this family will make sure of it; me, your dad, Megumi, and Yuji, who I think could really use an apology from you right now.”
Maya, albeit hesitant, hopped off her dad’s lap. She wiped the tears off her chubby cheeks and glanced back at Satoru.
“Go on, it’s okay,” he nodded.
In a way, it was quite hilarious. The person she feared was nothing more than a sulking boy with teary, light brown eyes, and a sad frown. Kicked puppy.
Maya stood in front of her brother. She didn’t fully understand what you and her dad were trying to say, but she knew a few things for certain:
No one else seemed scared of Yuji.
Dad said Yuji wasn’t a monster; he fought monsters.
That evil energy wasn’t the only energy she felt from him, there was something else there. Something kind and warm.
She loved Yuji, and she didn’t like making him feel sad.
Oh, her famous compliment. Yuji’s grin widened in amused bewilderment, though he didn’t fully understand what about him could have reminded her of Barbie.
“Oh yeah? I don’t know, I think she’s way cooler than I am,” Yuji reached forward slowly in case his little sister was still hesitant to trust him, and when she didn’t back away, he ruffled her hair. Maya responded to that by stepping closer with her arms out. As Yuji happily leaned down to hug her, god, it felt as if his heart melted and was being glued back together all at once.
A moment after the hug ended, Satoru spoke up. “Muffin, why don’t you go play with dolls, hm? I know my big girl can play all by herself, right?”
“Uh huh! I can go do that!”
Everyone listened to the pitter-patter of Maya’s footsteps. Once the conclusion was drawn that she was in her room, you and Satoru glanced at the boy on the other couch who was playing with the sleeves of his black sweatshirt.
“My turn, right?” Megumi mumbled.
“You’re not in trouble. Neither one of you are. It’s just that, at the first sign of chaos, you two wanna hit the door. You both need to understand that no matter what happens, no matter what you do or how you feel, those beds upstairs are yours. We’ll work through any situation no matter what it is because you’re our children. Your dad and I will chase you down and drag you both back home if we have to, but please don’t make us have to.” You paused. “Megumi, do you truly hate the idea of getting help so much that you’d rather stop living here with us? Are you that angry with me?”
“It isn’t like that. I just feel like a . . . burden again.” He couldn’t look you in the eye. “But I’m not angry, I’m just hurt. It feels like a betrayal.”
“What did . . .” Your voice was wobbly. You used every bit of your strength to hold back your own tears. “When you told me how you were feeling, what did you think would happen? What did you want to happen? Did you think I wouldn’t do something?”
“I knew you would, I just . . . I wanted to talk to you, not a therapist.”
“Me?” You blinked.
“Well, you’re my mother, aren’t you?”
Oh.
Oh, you were certain you misheard him. Your wide eyes found Satoru’s, and your husband gave you a knowing grin.
“I heard it, baby. He said it.” Satoru said.
“I’m gonna cry again,” you wiped at the tears threatening to stream down your face; it was crystal clear during this moment who Maya got her sensitive side from. “Can I hug you? If not, that’s okay.”
Megumi looked up at you. He thought about it for a moment, then with a whisper of a smile, he said, “Yeah, sure.”
You made your way over to where he sat, and he stood up. You wrapped your arms around him, taking extra care not to hug him too long or squeeze him too tightly.
When you pulled away, you said. “I still think you should give your current treatment plan a proper try, but you can always come to me, Megumi. Always, always, always.”
After you released him, you then walked over to Yuji, your arms open, and he grinned widely, hoping to his feet to hug you.
“I owe you an apology, Yuji.”
“Huh? For what?” He pulled away, tilting his head a little.
“For neglecting your needs. You should give therapy a try as well. I didn’t think it was necessary at first, seeing as you were always smiling and laughing no matter what, but after everything you’ve been through, you need it as well. I’m sorry for not considering it sooner.”
“Oh, well . . . okay, I guess.”
“I think someone else needs therapy.”
The interjection came from Satoru. Turning around, you raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean Maya? Because a child therapist doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“I was talking about you, but honestly, let’s get the whole family in there,” Satoru motioned you over, and your lips fell into a little frown. “What’s that look for? Aren’t you always saying everyone needs someone to talk to at some point?”
“That’s true,” you said. You walked over to Satoru and claimed the spot next to him on the couch, and he wrapped his arms around you. “I think I could use a massage, or maybe a vacation as well.”
“I’m on it,” Satoru smiled down at you. Then, as he looked back at his teenage boys, he said, “So now, on to dating . . .”
SATORU’S STORY — DAY SIX
The conversation with your boys lasted well into the evening until the orange rays of the setting sun kissed the sky goodbye, and the bright moon appeared along with the stars.
But not every bit of chaos had been resolved just yet. There was something else, something lingering in the back of Satoru’s mind, and that was why instead of showering together before winding down for your nightly routine of soft chatter, massages, and watching an episode or two of your favorite show together, you and Satoru found yourselves strolling through the Night Lights Festival once again.
“Satoru, we’ve all had a long day. Why’d you bring me here?” You asked, looking up at the side of his face, your fingers intertwined.
“Because I wanna spend time with the person I’m in love with, obviously. You’re the love of my life, my amazing wife,” he turned his head, smiling down at you. “Look, I’m even rhyming now like a lovesick poet.”
“But why are we at the festival again? After the day we’ve had, our bed was calling my name. I was hoping we were gonna cuddle up and watch our show together, or anything that involves lying in bed . . . Please don’t make a dirty joke.”
Satoru shot you an amused grin.
He guided you towards a food vendor that smelled of heavenly sugar. After ordering one chocolate-filled churro, he turned around to face you as he waited.
“Well, you and I never get any alone time nowadays, and we really needed to talk. I figured, why not do it here? The festival only comes once a year anyway. I wanna do our little churro tradition as many times as possible.”
“Why do we need to talk? You’re not divorcing me, are you?”
“Never. You’re stuck with me in every lifetime. I really believe it, ya know. I had a dream once where we both died and-”
“Here you go. Enjoy the festival.” The friendly vendor owner unintentionally interrupted Satoru, a churro in hand.
Satoru took it with thanks. You two continued strolling until he found an outdoor bench close to the lantern-lit lake and bridge.
“What was I saying?” He asked, sitting down.
As he took the first bite of the churro before passing it to you, you said, “Listen, if this is about my rant the other day, I really don’t feel the need to continue that conversation. Talking with everyone today helped some.”
“There’s more to it.” Satoru’s tone was serious at first. The lanterns nearby illuminated his expressionless face. Strands of his white hair shifted as he nodded down at the churro in your hand. “Come on, bite the churro.”
You did so. A beat of silence passed between you both. You handed him the churro; his turn to take a bite.
“I’m waiting,” he said, taking the sweet treat.
“For?”
“For you to tell me whatever it is you need to tell me. And for you to tell me why you haven’t told me until I brought up that there’s something you need to tell me.”
You blinked at him. He was right, after all. You were keeping something from him, and of course, he’d recognize the signs of secrecy. But you wanted to hold on to the secret news of your pregnancy a little longer.
“Really? You know me better than I know myself.” You avoided looking at him as he gave you the churro. Your bite was nothing more than a hesitant nibble. “Do you honestly think I’d keep secrets from you?”
“Then why won’t you tell me you’re pregnant, baby?”
Your limbs froze. Your heart skipped a beat, and though he spoke sweetly, kindly, you were still as stiff as a statue.
“Look at me,” he softly demanded, hooking his fingers around his blindfold and pulling it down, letting it dangle around his neck.
You glanced up at him, almost feeling like a shy child getting scolded.
“I . . .” Whatever excuse you wanted to give died in your throat. “How’d you figure it out?”
“Really needa ask?”
“Your eyes.” You mumbled. Duh. Of course. Of course, you couldn’t keep something like this from the Satoru Gojo.
“I would’ve pieced it together either way, ‘cause you’re right, I do know you better than you know yourself.” Satoru smiled for a moment, but then it vanished quickly. It was his turn to take a sad bite of the churro. Those bright blue eyes glistened with a sliver of hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been waiting.”
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know when or how. With everything going on, I feel like everyone will freak out at the idea of adding a baby to the mix. Especially considering our boys are ready to pack their bags and run away when they spill a cup of water. I didn’t want them to feel like us having another child would mean we no longer wanted them around. Hey, we’re having more biological children, so we don’t need the adopted ones, hit the road! ya know? I read somewhere that adopted kids and teens sometimes feel like that’s what’ll happen, or they feel like they’ll always come last to the biological children. And that’s only part of the reason why me being pregnant right now isn’t a good idea. I don’t know why we thought we would be able to handle another kid at a time like this.”
“Two kids.”
“Huh?”
“We’re having twins.” Satoru leaned forward, resting his elbows on the outdoor bench. “I can pick up on things earlier than an ultrasound can. And . . .” Satoru's eyes darted down to your stomach. “Yeah. I’m looking at two individual cursed energies.”
You couldn’t help but gasp. Twins? Was he being serious? Was this real?
“Oh my god. Satoru I . . . I mean, thank goodness we have a big ass house, right?” You gave a hollow laugh. One out of pure shock. “H-How do you feel about all this? I can’t tell.”
Satoru reached down into the pocket of his black jacket. He pulled out his phone, let the brightness on the screen illuminate his face, and opened the messaging app. Your husband then handed his phone to you. What stared back at you was a messaging thread with Kento.
Satoru spammed the poor man with multiple text messages, some short, incoherent, and incomplete, some using all caps, others long and decorated with emojis, but every message expressed his pure excitement. The last thing you saw before handing his phone back to him was a selfie he sent of himself crying tears of joy.
“Not only did I cry, but I went on a two-hour run to release some built-up excitement. I think it’s safe to say I’m beyond thrilled. I just wanted to wait for you to figure it out, because I thought you were gonna be excited to tell me, and I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise, but then I realized that you knew, and I could see how stressed out you were. You were going through tea like a teaholic, didn’t finish your crepes, and the last time I gave you a massage, you were so tense, it was like I was rubbing down a rock.” You took a bite of the churro. Satoru continued speaking. “You know I’m always gonna be here for you, right? There isn’t any part of this that you’ll have to go through alone. Even when I’m away, I will always be coming right back to you. We will figure it out, baby. Every bit of it. I wish I could be the pregnant one, not you, just so I can take some stress away from you.”
“And now you’ve made it weird,” you laughed — a genuine one this time — and watched as Satoru shrugged and took a bite of the churro you handed him.
“As weird as you are,” you paused, the churro now in your hands. “I’m glad you’re in my life. Who knows? Maybe preparing for two new members of the family could be the bonding time this family needs. Not sure.”
“Look at you being optimistic, I love it.”
You took the last bite, playfully rolling your eyes at him, but your fake attitude fooled no one. You were crazy in love with that handsome man across the table.
“Okay, c’mere, time for you to kiss me. The person who takes the last bite has to give the first kiss. Don’t tell me you forgot,” Satoru said. Though he told you to come to him, he was the one who rose from his seat and made his way over to your side of the bench. He straddled the bench seat, facing your side, and placed his hands on your hips as if to coax you into facing him.
“Pretty sure you just made that up. And aren’t we, like, both supposed to take the last bite together, causing our lips to meet, then we kiss?”
“I think the two of us should only try that with pasta, honey. We did it during that pasta making class we went to. I think one of us would choke to death if we tried to do it with a chocolate-filled churro,” Satoru tugged on you a little tighter, his lips falling into a small pout. “You’re taking too long. Just kiss me already. You’re ruining the mom-”
You cut off your talkative husband with what he so eagerly wanted — a sweet kiss. Not only could you feel his soft lips against yours, but you could feel him fighting off a smile as he kissed you back with passion.
That smile fully formed once you both parted, your face inches apart. His bright eyes stared into yours in a way that made it hard for you to breathe, and he gently stroked your cheek.
“Satoru?”
“Hm?”
“I think all of this chaos has taught me that, even though it’s hard, I can handle a lot of things. But promise me that you will never stop looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now. If for any reason you stop looking at me with all of that love in your eyes, I think that’s what will finally break me. Just promise me we will never become one of those couples who fall out of love with one another but are still together out of convenience.”
“I’ve stared at you like this since the first day we met, April 8th, 2005. I thought I was the coolest guy on the planet, but around you? I was a nervous wreck who wouldn’t stop blushing and stuttering. I still look at you now the same way I did then, and I know I still will when we’re old and wrinkly, and you know it too. But I promise, if that’ll put your worried little mind at ease.” Satoru caught you by surprise with one last little peck against your lips. Then, the tall man stood and held his large hand out for you to take. “C’mon, let’s burn our fingers tossing lanterns into the sky again while trying to look like a cute couple.”
You laughed, letting your hand fall into his. You didn’t know it, but several festival goers caught glimpses of you and your husband together. They prayed to someday find a cherishable love just as precious.
— NEXT PART.
♡ — What did you think? Let me know! Feedback is appreciated and encourages me to post more dad!gojo content!
bully!gojo who made your college experience a living hell. anytime he saw you walking down the crowded halls best believe your books and anything else in hand was thrown to the floor. don’t even think about asking why he did it because he didn’t even know himself.
“seriously gojo?” you looked at him with a broken frown, tears threatening to fall as you fished to pick your books up. “im already having a shitty day, do you always have to make it worse?”
your words hit him a little harder than intended. it’s not like he meant to be such a pain in your ass, but how else would he get a word out of you?
he cornered you near the dorms one time, you’d thought he was going to attack you or something. so imagine your surprise when the satoru gojo asked you out instead..
he told you about the true reasons he targeted you, and how it was all an act because he was too much of a wuss to communicate. hell, he even told you about all the guys he ran off when they got too close to you.
but that was 6 years ago— now you laid in his bed with a 20-carat diamond ring on your finger, and two toddlers latching onto the warmth of your leg.
drool dripped down the sides of your husband’s mouth, leaking onto your neck as he slept soundly on your chest. gojo was so pretty when he slept that you almost couldn’t believe he was real sometimes.
you planted soft kisses on his cheek, maybe three (or four).. who knows. when it came to gojo everything was irresistible, you realized you might’ve been just as obsessed as he was.
bully!gojo who was never really your bully, but rather your shy secret admirer.
Gojo Satoru is in love with you. He is madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with you. With love comes his devotion antics. For example, he is not able to breathe when you are not touching him in any sense—you have to resuscitate him with showers of endless kisses and hugs. He follows you from room to room like a giant, whiny shadow, whines if you ignore him for more than five seconds, and starts malfunctioning if you take more than ten minutes in the bathroom.
“Wifeyyy come outt please your Rrrromeo can't bear this separation anymore” Satoru whines, rolling his r’s, leaning against the bathroom door, “Gojo Satoru I swear to god let me piss in peace…!” you scold him, “Otayyy…” Satoru pouts, now sitting against the door.
“You’re my goddess,” he mumbles dramatically into your neck at night, arms caging you against him like he was worried you’d vanish if he let go. “It's hard to breathe when you are not near me."
You were barely handling his antics until you gave birth to a bigger, chonkier, cuter problem; his son. Gojo Satoru’s extension. Your husband’s upgraded version.
Now it was not just Satoru glued to your body 24/7 it was your baby too, crawling after you with fierce, wobbly determination, arms thrown up dramatically like he’d die if you didn’t pick him up that second
For one morning the first thing you felt was warmth. A lot of it. An arm flung over your waist, something bouncing on your stomach,-is that a furry breathing on your forehead? You open your eyes- wincing from the sunshine on your face- as soon you blink- they erupt in applause.
“She’s awake!!” Satoru cheers. Chonky Baby claps furiously, giggling. They both started bouncing from excitement, “Mama mama mama” “Baby baby baby” chanting your name while cuddling closer “You guys are so dramatic” you yawned while stretching your body, “Mama says she needs more hugs” Satoru hushes the baby, the ten-month-old- as if understanding Satoru leaps forward with all of his force in your chest giggling.
Lady Purrshia, perched atop your forehead lets out a long and lazy mrrrowl then flicks her tail, clearly unimpressed by the fanfare. "Oh, cmon purshie" Satoru reaches out and scoops her into the cuddle puddle, as he tucks her against his chest.
The Gojo’s are also very territorial, for an instance you were lounging on the couch scrolling through Pinterest while your baby was playing with his blocks by stacking them on the ground, occasionally babbling to you when he successfully stacks them as if asking for compliments for his block genius, “Good job baby!” you praised him resulting him to babble more full of pride.
As on cue, Satoru enters the room, throwing his arms up and practically melting on you, “Pillow,” he mumbles in satisfaction, nuzzling into your chest like a lovesick puppy.
But just as he settled in, a little squeak erupted from below. Your baby toddles over and tries to climb you, tugging on your pants, demanding prime position. He successfully sat on your lap and nuzzled his whole body on you, side-eyeing Satoru, marking his territory.
“Absolutely not,” Satoru says, already elbowing gently for space. “I was here first. Seniority.”
Baby lets out an indignant wail and tightening his grip on your shirt.
They both whine and cry for a while, pushing each other gently (not so gently by baby’s side)
Eventually, you sigh, sit up, and sandwich them both—Satoru’s head on one shoulder, Baby’s cheek squished against the other. You kiss them both.
“Happy now?”
“Mmmm,” Satoru hums, smug. Baby nods, gripping your shirt like it’s a lifeline.
Lady Purrshia stares from the armrest, tail flicking, then dramatically turns her back to all of you. Disgusted by the clinginess. Secretly jealous.
Your late-night shifts are the most torturous for both of them.
You finally sit down in the hospital lounge, face bone-tired, when your phone buzzes.
Incoming Call: My Toru Baby
You answer—and the screen EXPLODES with noise.
Satoru’s face leans into the frame with a peace sign. “Your fan club has arrived!!”
Baby’s chubby face appears right up in the camera, lips smudged with snack crumbs, babbling nonstop. “MAMA! Mamaaaa mamamamamamama—” he chants like it’s a ritual spell.
Satoru turns the camera to Lady Purrshia, who’s glaring at the chaos from her perch on the back of the couch.
“She refused to hold the phone,” Satoru explains. “Says her agent hasn’t negotiated screen time yet.”
You laugh, feeling your heart grow ten sizes bigger while taking a screenshot of the madness.
One night you woke up without feeling Satoru’s touch, it was unusual, slightly frowned you sat up while sleep still buzzing to your lashes, you wrapped your robe around and padded softly through the hallway.
The light from the living room spilled faintly into the corridor, warm and low. There, curled up on the couch, was the sight that melted every edge of your heart.
Satoru was reclined against the couch, legs stretched, hair tousled in all directions. Resting on his chest, belly down was your baby boy. Half-asleep, chubby cheek pressed into Satoru’s shirt, one tiny fist curled into his father’s collar. Half asleep while drooling all over Satoru, he looked like a little drowsy soup dumpling.
Satoru’s voice was low, gentle, and full of affection. “You know,” he whispered, stroking the baby’s back, “Your mama… she’s kind of a superhero. She’s the reason our hearts beat the way they do. She’s strong and smart, and she smells nice too, she fixes people, you know? Even me. I was all broken up when I met her, she walked into my life as if she belonged there, and fixed your Papa, Mama also fixed Purrshie when she was of your size.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”you called him softly, he looked up and smiled, his eyes glowing with that sleepy kind of love. “Couldn’t sleep,” he whispered, gently rocking the baby who was now starting to slip into dreamland again. “This little fluff ball was fuzzy, not sleeping at all.”
You sat beside them, sliding under Satoru’s arm, resting your head on his shoulder, hand reaching up to caress your son’s little back.
