❄️ A Christmas Glow with the Gojos ❄️
Snow drifted gently from the sky, sprinkling the town in a soft white blanket. The streets buzzed with holiday music and warm laughter as families gathered around the giant Christmas tree in the center square. Vendors served hot cocoa, cinnamon donuts, and roasted chestnuts, their scents wrapping the air in sweetness.
“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” your 4-year-old son, Hiroto, bounced in the crook of Gojo’s arm, his tiny gloves gripping the ends of his father’s long white coat.
Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh. “At this rate, the tree will light up before we even see it. You’re slow, babe.”
You raised a brow at him, clutching your cup of hot cocoa. “I’ve got two feet on the ground and only one energy-draining toddler. You’ve got six whole eyes and cursed energy. Speed it up.”
Gojo gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “Wow. Calling me out like that during the holidays? I see how it is.”
“And you’ll see even better if you let me finish my cocoa in peace,” you hummed, smirking.
Hiroto giggled. He looked just like Gojo—snow-white hair and bright blue eyes—but he loved cuddling into you for warmth, especially now as the cold nipped his nose. You fixed his little hat, the one you’d crocheted with green and red stripes.
Gojo tilted his head, admiring it. “You know, if you make me one that cute, I might just wear it to work.”
“You’d break sorcerer fashion history,” you laughed. “The strongest in a handmade Christmas beanie? Unthinkable.”
“Oh, they’re not ready,” he smirked proudly.
The crowd began to quiet. Everyone turned toward the massive evergreen tree, wrapped in red bows, twinkling bulbs, and a star waiting to shine.
“Mommy, Daddy, look! It’s starting!” Hiroto squealed, pointing with mitten-covered hands.
The music swelled, soft bells dancing with the melody. Then—
💡✨ The tree lit up, a burst of golden light dripping down the branches like magic.
The crowd gasped in awe, and Hiroto’s little mouth fell open. “Prettyyyyyy…” he whispered, eyes sparkling more than the lights.
Gojo’s Six Eyes glimmered as he gazed at the tree. “Not bad. But I think my family’s prettier.”
You rolled your eyes. “Smooth.”
He leaned closer, his arm sliding around your waist, pulling both you and Hiroto close. “What? It’s true. Look at us. We’re blinding.”
Hiroto nodded proudly. “We shine like Daddy!”
You kissed the top of your son’s head. “Yes, baby. But no infinity in the house, okay?”
Gojo pouted. “One time. I used it one time to warm the cocoa.”
“And melted three mugs,” you reminded him.
He shrugged. “Innovations are dangerous.”
The three of you stood together, watching the lights flicker and reflect in Hiroto’s big blue eyes. Snowflakes landed on your curls, and Gojo brushed them away with warm fingers, slow and gentle.
“Let’s make this a tradition,” he murmured. “Every year, Christmas tree lighting with my family.”
You smiled softly. “Every year.”
Hiroto raised his mitten like a fist in a heroic pose. “Every year forever! And I want donuts!”
Gojo lifted him proudly. “A man of culture! Let’s get donuts.”
Hand in hand, the Gojo family left the glowing square, laughter spilling like bells into the snowy night, wrapped in warmth, love, and holiday light.
