She knows with the dreadful certainty that can only come from an endless cycle of crushed hope and misery, that this is a terribly foolish idea.

Hope is such an awful thing, really. Perhaps if she could just somehow force herself to accept her circumstances, she 'd be better off. If she could bring herself to be cheered up by brand new toys and trinkets, maybe she wouldn 't need to cry herself to sleep at night. For good or for ill, she 'll never be that kind of person. She 's the sort that cannot help but struggle on, no matter how fatalistic the effort might seem, because she simply cannot accept otherwise. She 'll regret it all later, when her handlers catch up to her ' or worse, Chisaki himself ' and she 's once again strapped onto a metal chair and deconstructed over and over and over again. She 'll scream and cry as she 's forced to regenerate through the pain and bloodshed, and she 'll hate herself for ever bothering to dream of a life outside of this wretched one, and yet later when she 's all alone in the foreboding darkness of her room, she 'll wish for something better.

Wishing never helped her. It didn 't bring back her parents. It didn 't save her from Chisaki. It didn 't even stop those young heroes from leaving her behind. She hates that she can still wish at all. There 's no such thing as fairy tale happy endings for people like her. She 's not a princess with a knight in shining armor on his way to rescue her. She 's not even a princess that can fight her own way out.

There 's no good ending for her here, and yet her feet carry her on anyhow.

She keeps running as fast as she can, even as rocks and stray glass cut into her bare feet, mud and grime splattering up her bandaged legs. The ankle she 'd landed on wrong screams in pain every time she puts her weight on it but she can 't bring herself to stop.

Shouts ring out from behind her as one of the members on duty picks up her trail. It was inevitable; she hadn 't had time to plan any farther than her escape. Luckily her newest handler had been easy to win over. She 'd started rock painting as a hobby, to the united bewilderment of all the yakuza lackeys Chisaki had watching her, and waited until the most restless and flighty of the lot was on shift to watch her before enacting her plan. Her final act of defiance, if she wanted to be honest, because she doubts she 's ever going to get a chance like this ever again. Once was a miracle. Twice is simply too much to ask for.

Her most recent minder had wanted to buy her some stupid magic baby doll, and she 'd instead asked for increasingly large and flat rocks, better to act as a canvas for her painting, until she 'd amassed something of a collection. He 'd been very confused, and probably thought her a bit touched in the head after all that deconstructing and reconstructing, but still so desperate to please her he 'd gone out and found her rocks she wanted. Originally she 'd intended to ' honestly she didn 't know. Her five year-old mind hadn 't exactly gotten much farther than: bludgeoning this guy in the face with a giant rock; hoping she knocked him out and using the other rocks to bust a window in her room to jump out of; jumping out the window ' and then hoping for the best, really. It was hardly a foolproof plan, but she was terrified and desperate and refused to just sit here and do nothing but cry about her circumstances.

Not anymore.

Not after she 'd finally tasted freedom. Not after she 'd stared into that young hero 's eyes, so full of kindness and sympathy, and realized he would have moved heaven and earth to save her if only she 'd

asked

him to do it. But she 'd been a coward, too scared of Chisaki and too scared of what might happen to this nice boy with his kind eyes and fluffy green hair if she let him help her, of what Chisaki would do to him if he tried. And he

would

try, she could see that in his eyes. He 'd try to save her and he 'd fight Chisaki and probably die trying, and just knowing that he 'd try at all was enough for her.

She 'd pushed him away and swallowed her fears and returned to Chisaki. She didn 't want to see either of those two heroes ' kids not that much older than her, really ' die because of her.

But she didn 't want to live like this anymore, either.

Fate had ended up giving her a window of opportunity, before she could even attempt her premeditated manslaughter dreams. The flighty minder with his fiddly fingers and weird mustache left her alone in her room to step out and discuss something with another member. She could barely believe it; they were trained specifically

not

to do that, especially after her last escape attempt. She could hear them on the other side of the door, whispering and snickering, something about a lady and a love hotel and a bunch of other adult stuff she 's fairly sure she 's not supposed to know about, but knew plenty about anyway because she lives with a bunch of yakuza members.

And just when she was sitting there, still painting her rocks, too stunned to move, another door banged opened and then there was a bunch of angry shouting and slamming and what she 's fairly sure was someone accusing someone else of sleeping with his baby mama, and then there was the

whoosh

of air shuddering against the door and walls, warm heat licking through the opening at the bottom of her door, and more shouting about

'not using your fucking fire quirk indoors you asshole '

' which was just about the moment the fire alarm went off.

Well, let it not be said Eri wasn 't an industrious, enterprising young almost-six year-old who didn 't know how to use a moment when it was handed to her on a silver platter.

With all the shouting and the chaos as a screen, she wasted no time in moving past the 'possible manslaughter ' part of her plan and straight to 'busting out the window ' and threw as many rocks as she could at the glass until it shattered a hole large enough for her to crawl through. It was hardly as convenient as her last escape, where she 'd managed to run out a side door, but her security had gotten tight after that failed attempt. Chisaki wasn 't willing to risk it, after she 'd ran right into the arms of a hero. She was lucky to have a window at all, but even Chisaki could acknowledge sunlight was necessary for growing girls. He 'd of course instead made sure her room was far too high for her to jump, and her window locked tight from the outside, so instead she used the siding to crawl up onto the roof.

They probably checked the security footage when they realized she 'd escaped, once they 'd stopped beating each other up over their collectively poor choices at the bar last night, and followed her trail. She was too small to run fast enough to really outrun them, and too weak to continue on for much longer.

Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes as she thought about how this might be her last time feeling the wind in her hair, and seeing the open expanse of the dark night sky. After this attempt, she 'll probably be stuck in the basement holding cells for the rest of her life, vitamin D deficiency or no. She was on thin ice with Chisaki as it was already, after she 'd escaped into the arms of a

hero

last time.

The thought of a life like that made her sick. It didn 't seem like a life worth living at all. Struggling through pain and suffering day in and day out, nothing to look forward to, not even a glimpse of a distant sky and the fleeting call of freedom.

She sobs, stumbling over loose gravel and skidding her knees as she falls. She can hear the voices, closer now than they were before.

She 's almost at the end of the rooftops. There 's another building ahead of hers but a wide alleyway separates them; she doesn 't think she 's strong enough to make the jump. But the idea of just sitting here crying and waiting for the inevitable inspires within her something stronger than fear. There 's no hero waiting for her at the end of a long alleyway, no warm and comforting arms to hold her, even for just a moment. There 's just her, and her own stupid, vicious

hope

burning in her chest. A determination to succeed, or die trying.

Eri doesn 't think twice about it. She scrambles up back onto her aching feet, sprints headlong towards the edge, and

jumps.

//

Gojo looks up, just as the girl he 'd sensed takes a flying fucking leap right to her death.

He watches her swan dive to her inevitable end with no small amount of horror and bewilderment. Then he moves to slow her fall down with Infinity and catch her.

He 's even more horrified ' and bewildered ' by the sight that greets him in his arms.

Her silvery hair is slicked with sweat and grime, matted in curls down her back. She 's got a hell of a bruise forming on her jaw, and a scrape across her cheek. There are similar scrapes across her palms and the backs of her forearms, as if she 'd tripped and fell forward onto hard concrete. The worst are her feet, bleeding profusely from small cuts made from rock and broken glass, and dangerously dirty from running on the roofs after the spell of rain they 'd had on and off all afternoon. Her legs aren 't spared from the mess, splattered with mud and stray cuts. Her ankle is swollen and angry red, likely sprained or broken recently.

And that 's only what he can see with his own two eyes.

What his cursed eyes tell him is an entirely different story. She 's covered in older bandages; beneath them are disconcerting injuries. Gojo can 't really make sense of them ' they fit no pattern of weaponry or injury that he can discern. But then, much like cursed techniques, quirks can often cause damage that seems impossible from a purely logical standpoint.

If Gojo had to guess, he 'd have to say it almost looked like she 'd been ' pulled apart and then haphazardly put back together again. Over and over again.

He breathes in sharply through his nose, making a valiant effort to suppress the surge of anger and disgust swelling in his chest.

The little girl finally seems to realize she hasn 't fallen to her death. Her tense body relaxes in fractions, hands uncurling from where she 'd buried them in her hair, arms falling away from her face. She stares up at him with shocked, bright red eyes.

'Hasn 't anyone ever told you flying is for droids? ' He asks, blankly, in lieu of anything more useful to say.

'... What is a droid? ' Natsuo has enough presence of mind to ask, reminding Gojo that both his siblings are here with him.

'Oh my god, ' Fuyumi says, shocked. 'Did she just

fall from the sky?

Is she okay? '

'I don 't think so, considering she didn 't

fall from the sky,

she jumped off the roof. '

'Jumped?! '

Fuyumi gasps. 'Why? '

Gojo tucks the girl into the crook of his arm. She 's so small and malnourished he can easily cradle her on his hip with one hand, using the other to pull down his glasses and smile disarmingly at her.

'Well, maybe she can tell us. Hi kid, what 's your name? '

She just looks up at him with big, terrified eyes, looking a lot like a frightened snow rabbit with her silver hair and ruby eyes. The fright falls from her features as she stares into his eyes, dazzled by their otherworldly glow.

'Oh my god stop that she 's, like,

five, '

Natsuo cuts in, rudely.

Gojo glances away to send the other man an impish grin. 'I can 't help that women are always so charmed by me, no matter their age~ '

'She has bandages all over her, ' Fuyumi notices with dismay, ignoring their byplay entirely. She slinks up behind Gojo 's shoulder, smiling encouragingly down at the girl in his arms. 'I 'm Fuyumi, and these are my brothers Natsuo and Touya. Can you tell us your name? '

Gojo is reminded that Fuyumi is literally a professional child wrangler when the little girl meets her beaming smile with a tentative look, not nearly as frightened as she had been before. 'E ' Eri. '

'Eri-chan! What a lovely name, ' Fuyumi enthuses. 'Eri-chan, it 's very late and it 's so cold out! Did you leave your jacket with your parents? Do you want us to help you get back to them? '

He knows what she 's easing her way into asking, and evidently he 's not the only one who 's seen through her gentle tone. Eri seizes up as if Fuyumi 's words have physically hurt her, struggling in his arms.

'No! '

She kicks out frantically, startling Fuyumi into leaping back. 'I can 't, no, please ' '

He and Fuyumi share another look, before she tries again with that same calmness, 'Okay, that 's alright. You don 't have to answer if you don 't want to. You 're safe right now, okay? If you 're lost, we can help you. '

Eri stops twisting around in his arms, but she still looks wary and distrustful as she eyes up Fuyumi. Gojo looks between the two ' his sister with her reassuring smile and placid expression, and Eri with her wounded eyes and hunched shoulders ' and thinks a change of tact might be in order. Fuyumi 's steadfast and supportive approach might work wonders on her own perfectly normal and well-heeled elementary students, but the injuries on the girl and her wariness even in the face of kindness has Gojo thinking a direct attitude might be better.

'Eri-chan, ' he says slowly, drawing the girl 's attention. 'Did you run away because someone was hurting you? '

Fuyumi makes an aborted noise in the back of her throat, but otherwise doesn 't protest this new direction.

Eri, notably, doesn 't answer. She just looks down at her scraped knees, worrying at her bitten and bandaged fingernails. Very slowly, under all their watchful gazes, she begins to nod.

He can

feel

the anger radiating off his sister, even as she balls her fists and refuses to let the rage cloud her face. Across from them, Natsuo looks like he wants to be sick, hand to his mouth.

'I see. ' Gojo himself can barely keep the frigid wrath out of his own voice. 'Well, Eri-chan, like my sister said, you 're safe now, okay? '

'Please don 't let them take me back there, ' she says, pitifully.

'Them? ' Natsuo asks, worried. 'Who 's them? '

Gojo blinks back up at the roofs, mouth twisting as he senses the 'them ' in question. 'I believe she 's referring to the group of adult men who appear to be chasing her, ' he reveals.

'What?! '

Natsuo shouts, just as Eri cringes in his arms.

They don 't particularly worry him; he can take on a global army by himself and finish them off before dinner time. He 's not even all that worried about protecting Natsuo and Fuyumi and Eri through the confrontation. But it 's one thing for his siblings to watch him blow up buildings and kill people on television, and another thing entirely to see that monstrous power in person. And Eri is already a very obviously traumatized kid ' she doesn 't need to see that on top of everything else she 's dealt with.

He looks down at the girl, staring directly into her eyes as he promises; 'I won 't let them take you anywhere, okay? You 're safe with me now. '

Her eyes are very wide as she stares back. He can 't tell if she 's registering his words, or is just once again caught up in admiring his shiny eyes. It 's hard to tell with kids at this age.

So he ropes his arm around Fuyumi, and drags Natsuo around to her other side.

'Right, so ' don 't be alarmed, but this might feel a little weird. '

Natsuo opens his mouth with a distinct look of alarm, despite Gojo 's words, but by the time he 's voiced his protests they 've already teleported away.

//

He wants it on record that he is

not

jealous of the traumatized and dreadfully injured six year-old kid.

He 's just ' a little surprised, is all.

Growing up, his older brother Touya had always been a friendly but ultimately standoffish character. Natsuo had always chalked it up to the age gap ' it never felt as if Touya ever

really

wanted to play with him, or even be around him really, rather that he was just indulging Natsuo because he felt bad for him. He 'd never been mean or even unpleasant, and if Natsuo asked to do something with him, whether that was watching cartoons or tossing a ball out in the yard, he

always

agreed. But Touya had never been the one to close the distance. He was never the one who crawled into his room at night in search of comfort, nor the one to seek him out during the day just to be by his side. It was always Natsuo wanting to be by his brother, and Touya conceding to his whims.

As he got older, he just assumed Touya wasn 't the touchy-feely type. And as Shouto grew up and he found himself filling the same sort of role that Touya had with him, he realized how much affection Touya must have really had for him, in order to indulge him as often as he did. Touya just hadn 't been the sort who showed his affection in an overtly physical manner. He 'd sling an arm across his shoulders or pat his head on occasion, but the one and only time Natsuo had tried to hug him as a kid he 'd gone as stiff as a board and hadn 't reciprocated at all. Natsuo hadn 't tried it again after that.

But then there 's Eri, crawling all over a very adult Touya who doesn 't seem to mind in the least. Actually, he 's letting her all but rip his shirt apart by its seams as she clings to his chest, little fists stretching the material irreparably. She 's staring at Natsuo like he 's the antichrist, curled up in a ball in Touya 's lap as Fuyumi hovers fretfully over the side of the couch.

Truth be told, he 's still shocked it 's not Fuyumi sitting on the couch with an armful of terrorized little girl.

She 's the one with the proven track record of taming groups of small children, after all. But little Eri seems to have imprinted on Touya, and refused to budge no matter how much they cajoled her. She seemed to be stuck under the impression that if she let go of him, he might disappear. In her defense, Touya

did

teleport them all halfway across the city without any kind of warning, so it 's not exactly an unfair assumption to make.

Natsuo stares down guiltily at the first aid kit he 'd found ferretted under Touya 's bathroom counter (that had

two

toothbrushes sitting in the cup by the sink, a little tidbit he was trying not to pay attention to) knowing her fearful look is probably well warranted. But those cuts on her feet and legs are liable to get infected with all the dirt and grime all over her, and that ankle should at least get a cold compress on it.

He sinks down to his knees in front of her with a placid expression, which quickly breaks into consternation when he opens the kit and realizes it

barely

even constitutes as first aid.

'Please tell me you have disinfectant, ' he sighs.

Touya blinks at him. 'I have ' alcohol? ' he says, sheepishly.

Natsuo gives him a disparaging look as Fuyumi sighs and goes to the bar cabinet in search of said alcohol. He rummages around the woefully ill-stocked box; there 's wrap, gauze, and bandages in different sizes, and not much else. He 's lucky Fuyumi is definitely the sort to have a pair of tweezers in her bag, otherwise they 'd

really

be in dire straits.

'Nacchan is going to school to be a doctor, so he 'll patch you up real quick, okay? ' Touya is telling Eri, as Fuyumi returns with a little hotel-sized bottle of vodka and they begin to paw through her bag in search of anything of use.

She does indeed have tweezers, and a bottle of paracetamol, and strangely enough, wet wipes. She insists they 're a necessity when dealing with small children as often as she does.

'W ' What is he doing? ' Eri asks fretfully, as he cringes through pouring out the little bottle of vodka onto a wad of gauze.

'He 's going to clean up all your cuts, so they don 't get infected. ' Touya pauses, frowning. 'Do they need stitches? ' He addresses to Natsuo.

'No, but I 'm going to need to take out some of these shards of glass, ' Natsuo returns, leaning closer to get a better look at some of the wounds. He winces when he sees how deeply lodged some of the bits of gravel and glass are.

He reaches out to gently steer Eri 's leg in his direction, but she flinches so violently she almost clocks him in the jaw.

'He won 't hurt you, I promise, ' Touya tells her gently, as she curls her face into his chest. 'He 's going to patch you up, okay? '

She shakes her head vehemently. 'Hurts, ' she says. 'It always hurts ' '

His gaze lowers to the bandages still wrapped around her arms, and the remnants of them torn and dirty around her legs. Whatever was done to her ' someone had patched her up, afterwards. And perhaps not as gently as they could have.

'Yes, it will hurt for a bit, but that just means the medicine is working, ' Touya replies, running a hand through her hair. She just continues to shake her head, trembling in his lap.

Touya looks over imploringly at Fuyumi. Fuyumi stares back, wringing her hands helplessly. Her eyes dart frantically around the hotel room, before finally settling on something behind the couch.

'Okay, Eri-chan, I understand this is all a little scary, but we 're going to make it

not

scary, okay? '

Both Touya and Natsuo turn to stare at her. 'We are? ' Natsuo asks, skeptically.

'Yep, we are. Here 's what we 're going to do, ' Fuyumi claps her hands. 'Eri-chan is going to sit with me, and she 's going to squeeze my hand whenever she feels scared and I 'm going to ask Natsu to stop for a little until she feels better. '

Eri very carefully pulls her head off of Touya 's chest, blinking at her with guarded eyes. Fuyumi smiles charmingly as she adds; 'And Touya-nii is going to sit right next to us, and play us a song with his guitar! '

'He 's what, ' Natsuo deadpans.

'I 'm what, ' Touya agrees, blankly.

Fuyumi dances around the couch and pulls forward a stickered guitar case. Eri 's eyes grow wide with fascination as she catches sight of it. 'Do you have a favorite song, Eri-chan? '

Eri slowly shakes her head.

'Well that 's alright, Touya can play you

lots

of songs. Right, Touya? '

'Um, Fuyumi, ' Touya says, sounding pained. 'Most of my songs are, uh, not very kid friendly. '

'Nonsense, I 'm sure you can think of

something. '

Fuyumi stares at him with a beaming smile. 'And they 're all in English anyway, it 's fine. '

Touya looks like he still might try to protest being volunteered for this role, when Eri peers up at him with very big eyes and asks, in an awestruck voice. 'You can play the guitar? '

Natsuo watches in disbelief as Touya just fucking

melts.

'Yeah, I can play the guitar. ' He concedes defeat.

Wow. He 's seriously known this kid for all of half an hour and she 's already gotten him wrapped around her little finger. It 's a far cry from the amiable but distant brother he remembers. Or maybe not so much, he supposes, watching as Touya gently transfers Eri onto Fuyumi 's lap, and goes about prying his guitar case open. After all, Natsuo remembers barging into his room (on the rare occasions Touya was actually home) and begging his older brother to play him a song on his guitar, and Touya caving every time, no matter what he was in the middle of doing.

Eri watches Touya settle across from her with his guitar slung over his lap, picking gently at the strings as he gives it a quick tune-up. The fear and sadness that had clung to her face washes away into wonderment as Touya strums a few haphazard chords, tilting his head this way and that.

He glances up at her with an easy grin. 'Bear with me for a little bit, okay? I 've never actually played this one before. '

Fuyumi sits up straighter at that. 'Ooh! Is this a new song? '

Touya smiles wryly at her. 'It doesn 't exist anywhere but in my head, if that 's what you mean. '

Fuyumi pats Eri 's head. 'Isn 't that amazing, Eri-chan? Touya is going to play a song just for you. '

'Just ' just for me? ' Eri 's eyes are wide as saucers, looking a little overwhelmed. Even when Natsuo uses her distraction to turn her bleeding foot his way, she doesn 't seem to notice.

Touya keeps strumming chords at random, lips pursed in concentration. Natsuo takes the opportunity to start probing gently at Eri 's foot ' she doesn 't so much as twitch. As Touya clears his throat and starts to sing, she remains utterly transfixed, as if he 's caught her under some kind of spell.

Even when he has to dislodge a shard at least three centimeters from the side of her heel, she just balls her fists in her lap and continues to stare at Touya with complete and utter fascination. It saddens him, because no amount of pretty music should be able to distract any regular six year-old from that kind of pain; she must have a staggeringly high pain tolerance. His stomach drops when he thinks of all that she must have been through, and the uncertain future that lies ahead of her.

He hissed in sympathy when he dabs the alcohol across her open wounds, but she doesn 't so much as glance at him, all her attention focused on Touya as he sings ' as if she 's never even heard music before.

His heart lurches, as Touya 's voice drifts on.

'What love song, do you sing your babies?

What sunshine, do you bring? '

//

Makoto will be thrilled,

Gojo can 't help but think, as he wrangles up long forgotten memories and manages to pull out a song that 's perfectly adequate to work as a soothing lullaby.

She 's been bugging him about making new music again, now that the band is officially on the ride or die train with him, especially since she intends to start promoting them in earnest. She has a masterplan to get ahead of his grand identity reveal ' at least the Dabi part of it ' and is working on the others with theirs. She apparently pulled some of her industry contacts to get Kenji off with a bit of community service and a few hefty fines (easily paid for by the band 's funds) since the statute of limitations on her alleged manslaughter charge had already passed. Yui had apparently point blank said that if she has to choose between the band and her future career then she doesn 't want to be a hero in a society that won 't accept them as a band, and Makoto herself said she 'd rather handle her

own

image than other people 's if it comes down to it. Gojo hopes it doesn 't come down to that, though. He 'd rather they get to enjoy their lives without having to make that kind of choice.

At any rate, he 'd been debating on what new direction (read: which new bands to plagiarize) to take their music and he supposes the noisy shoegaze sound of

Siamese Dream

is as good of one as any.

Come to think of it, he 's sort of been shying away from songs from that era in his life ' his loneliest, earliest days with just an mp3 player for company. He wonders what it says about him, that it doesn 't hurt so much to play them now. That there 's a part of him that wants to bring that music back into the world.

By the time he 's played through enough songs to have a tentative framework for a new album, Natsuo has long since finished up cleaning Eri 's wounds and wrapping her ankle and the girl herself has been lulled to sleep. Gojo is shocked to see it ' she 's been through so much this evening he would have thought she 'd be too on edge to properly rest. But by that same turn, maybe she was just too tired by the night 's events to fight off her own exhaustion.

By unspoken agreement the three adults silently creep out of the living room and into Gojo 's open bedroom. He shuts the door quietly behind them, after peeking back to make sure she was still fast asleep on the couch.

'What ' what are we supposed to do with her? ' Spills out of Fuyumi the moment the door is closed.

'She was obviously being badly abused, ' Natsuo adds, coldly. 'We should find her parents and have them hauled to jail. '

'I don 't think it 's that simple. ' Gojo taps his chin, leaning against the door. 'There were grown men after her. Five of them, chasing her down the rooftops of all things. I think it 's fair to assume her living situation isn 't ordinary. '

'You think she 's involved in something? ' Fuyumi asks, worried.

'Probably ' but whatever it is, she 's an innocent in it. ' He cards a wary hand through his hair. 'Let 's let her rest tonight, since she 's already asleep. Tomorrow, I 'll get in contact with the police and make some discreet inquiries. '

'You, discreet? ' Natsuo snorts, smiling dryly.

'I can be discreet! ' Sometimes. '

'No matter what the police have to say about the situation, there 's no way she can go back to ' to wherever it was she was running from, ' Fuyumi says, looking down at her clasped hands. 'There might not be a lot they can do without concrete evidence, and if that 's the case then they might ' '

She takes a shaky breath. 'I 've ' I 've seen situations like this play out before. I 'm worried that even if they do manage to get the law involved and have her put in protective custody ' will that be enough? You said there was a group of men chasing her ' there 's no way that 's not linked to criminal activity, right? '

Gojo sighs. 'Yes, most likely. If I had to guess, it was probably quirk trafficking. '

From what his eyes can tell him about that quirk of hers, she 'd be an ideal target. Even if it seemed to be dormant currently, it was outrageously powerful, even by his standards. It makes his own reversed-curse technique look like child 's play. Hell, even Shoko would have been jealous.

Natsuo curses under his breath. Fuyumi looks heartbroken.

'I 'll look into it, okay? And I 'll keep you both updated. For now ' it 's been a long night for all of us. Let 's figure it out in the morning, yeah? '

They both nod in response; all three of them had sobered up real quick when a kid came flying out of the sky, but they still spent most of the night drinking away their problems and getting kicked out of establishments. It 'll be better for all of them to approach the problem with a clear head and a couple hours of rest.

'Fuyumi, I can take you home. Do you need me to take you back, Nacchan? '

Natsuo blinks. 'Where exactly are we right now? '

Gojo laughs, and tells him the address of the hotel.

Natsuo shakes his head. 'Nah, I can walk from here. I 'll talk to you guys tomorrow. '

They follow Natsuo out to the door, tiptoeing past the living room to slide on their shoes in the genkan. After Natuso 's ducked out with a silent wave over his shoulder, Fuyumi turns to him with a look of concern.

'Let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, ' she says, voice urgent but pitched low to avoid waking up the girl sleeping down the hall.

Gojo grins at her. 'It 's only until the morning. I 'm sure I can handle it. '