The winter holiday season concludes before Toji knows it, and new beginnings bleed into early January. Maki and Yuuji 's school resumes soon after and Toji finds himself alone during the day again; it 's strange how quickly he 'd become used to living in a noisy home. He 'll admit without hesitation that he kinda misses the sound of the kids chasing each other around the house with some new bug Yuuji found under a rock or something, himself and Yuki cracking up from the couch and betting over which one of the kids would trip first.

Toji won 't feel bad for betting against Maki sometimes. Some of those bugs were creepy as hell. In any case, this month means two things:

First: Maki 's eighth birthday is coming up.

Toji briefly considered a surprise party, but he 's got a feeling she might actually hate that.

Too

much of a surprise, and he wouldn 't put it past her to accidentally sock him in the face; which would be pretty funny, but probably not funny enough for the whole ordeal to be worth it. Besides, her seventh birthday celebration was kinda pathetic -- they 'd barely even known each other back then. He 's gonna do better this year, he 's

determined

to.

She 's not really materialistic, but that 's not gonna stop Toji from buying her a truly ridiculous number of presents. Hey, he 's gotta make up for all the birthdays he missed, and all the birthdays she spent neglected by the Zen 'in clan. Fucking asshole sorcerers. And speaking of asshole sorcerers--

Last, but definitely least: his first mission with Gojo has arrived.

Unfortunately, the latter comes before the former. Admittedly, Toji is wondering if the boatload of cash is even gonna be worth putting up with his bullshit. He 'll do it, of course, but far more for Maki than for himself. This one mission alone pays about a fifth of what Maki 's katana cost; apparently, it 's from the potential reward money if the mission is a success, on top of the exorbitant base pay Toji

already

gets for keeping the brat in check.

Gojo gets his number, somehow. Yuki swears she didn 't give it to him, and Toji believes her. This is probably just something he 's gonna have to get used to -- that the kid has his ways. And actually, it might be overall better for Toji 's mental health if he

doesn 't

know what those ways are.

The kid sends the mission details in a series of texts peppered with an irritatingly unnecessary number of emoticons. Apparently, a bus full of foreign tourists mysteriously disappeared into a derelict tunnel on the side of a mountain in Hokkaido. Lately, there have been a swirl of urban legends regarding the vengeful spirit of a man who supposedly perished while hiking through it alone after being sent there on a dare.

The two of them have been tasked with investigating the area under the shrouding eclipse of nighttime, in order to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Many of the tourists ' families have pitched in to create a reward fund for the safe return of their loved ones. That makes Toji 's gut twist with some unfamiliar mix of discomfort and determination.

Toji gives Yuki a call the day before he heads out. She picks up after a few rings.

'Hey there, handsome. Always nice to see your name pop up on my screen, ' she greets. Toji bites his lip a little. 'What can I do for ya? '

'Yeah, here 's the thing. I gotta go on an overnight job with Gojo, ' he sighs, and the exasperation must 've made its way into his voice even over the phone because Yuki replies,

'Oh boy, good luck with that. Try not to kill him? Maybe just maim him a little. '

Toji snorts. 'I 'll try. Anyways, I got a favor to ask of ya. Would you mind watchin ' Maki for me while I 'm away? '

A pause. 'Me? '

'Yeah, of course you. '

There are a few moments of silence before Yuki laughs it off. 'Well, I guess I 'm the only person you really know. '

'Please. Even if I knew the whole population of Japan, I 'd

still

choose you. '

Yeah, that 's followed by a

long

silence on the other end of the line. Shit, did he say that

out loud?

Toji quickly adds: 'She 's pretty independent, so you probably won 't have to do much. Besides, she really likes ya. '

Yuki chuckles. 'You sure you 're not the same? '

Toji puts his phone down on the counter for a second. Oh god, he 's got it

bad.

He draws in a deep breath before picking up the phone again. 'In your dreams, doll. '

Shortly after, Yuki agrees and they chat a little longer before she has to hang up. The next day comes far too quickly, and Toji finds himself reluctant to head out the door once it 's time to go.

'It 's just gonna be a short business trip, kiddo, ' he tells Maki as he plants a kiss to her forehead, tucking her sideswept bangs behind her ear. 'Yuki 's gonna be over soon to hang out with ya here, okay? I 'll miss ya lots. '

'I 'll miss you too, ' she says shyly. Damn, she 's so adorable.

'Hey, I 'll be back before ya know it, ' he reassures her. 'I 'll take you and Yuuji sledding or somethin ' when I come home, okay? '

He pulls her into a quick hug and feels her nod against his chest. 'Okay. '

Toji ruffles her hair one more time for good measure. 'Bye, sweetheart. See ya in a day or so. ' And then he heads out.

Still, there 's something oddly unsettling about leaving his kid behind. He can 't explain it; it 's an itch that crawls like an army of spiders across his body and burrows just beneath his skin, filling him with the inexplicable desire to dig his nails into its outer layers and shred through its surface in grisly ribbons. There 's a dark voice echoing in the very back of his thoughts, leaking through the sealed strongholds of his mind that says:

you 've done this before.

Toji shuts it up almost immediately and moves on.

Just in case, Toji packs the little grass doll she gave him for Christmas as a keepsake, a tiny treasure to remind him that his beloved daughter is waiting for him back home. It can be his lucky charm, or something. If this mission with Gojo is anything like every other time they 've interacted, he 's gonna need it.

For the trip, Toji opts for a light grey sweater and a pair of old jeans for maximum comfort, and it 's around 10PM when he meets up with Gojo at the airport. Toji figured he wouldn 't be tough to spot given his height and unique hair color, but the idiot sticks out like a sore thumb for an entirely different reason this time.

Gojo is sporting an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt over long sleeves, paired with khaki cargo shorts and pink flip flops. The stupid sunglasses indoors really complete the look. It 's...truly a trainwreck. Toji is honestly embarrassed to be seen with him, which says a

lot

coming from someone with zero shame.

So Toji pulls the most disgusted face he can manage when he walks up to Gojo. 'Oi, why the hell are you gay and can 't dress? The fuck were you doin ' in the closet the whole time? '

Gojo looks genuinely offended by that. 'It 's called fashion, look it up! '

'If

this

is what comes up, I 'd really rather not, ' Toji sneers. 'Isn't it gonna be in the negative digits in Hokkaido? What 's with the Hawaiian shirt? '

'Duh, that 's what the long sleeves are for, ' he explains in a flat tone, as if that 's any justification for assaulting the eyes of innocent travelers. 'Besides, you 're one to talk. Did you

sleep

in that? '

Frowning, 'Yeah, actually. '

Gojo rolls his eyes. 'Ugh. Walk behind me, I wanna pretend like we don 't know each other for as long as possible. '

Toji bristles like a kicked cat. 'No fuckin ' way!

You

walk behind

me

if you 're gonna be so fussy about it! '

'I 'm not fussy! ' Gojo fusses. 'Whatever, let 's just get going before we miss our flight. I totally bet you 're gonna be

'randomly selected '

by security for a more thorough check. '

Oh, come

on.

'I don 't look that suspicious. '

'So you admit you look a

little

suspicious. '

Toji tightens his grip on his travel bag. 'Least I 'm not wearin ' any of my shirts with bloodstains on 'em. One of which has yours now, by the way. Buy me a new one, rich boy. '

As expected, Gojo ignores that last comment. Asshole, he 's not getting away with it that easy. 'Yeah, and

how

much of your wardrobe has bloodstains on it by now? '

...Toji doesn 't really wanna answer that. Half, maybe? 'Pfft, practically nothing. Meanwhile,

you

look like you 've slaughtered style and worn its skin as a trophy. '

'Ha! So your eyes have opened to my winning fashion sense! '

'Idiot, that 's not what I-- ' Fuck, this is pointless. 'Y 'know what? Let 's play the quiet game. C 'mon, impress me with your skills at shutting up. '

'I don 't have anything to prove to you, old man, ' Gojo snaps. 'Fine. Whatever. First one to talk is a loser. '

Honestly? They 're both already losers, and stubborn ones at that. Still, it 's nice to make their way to the gate in silence. Gojo is the one who gets

'randomly selected '

by security, and Toji can 't help but cackle his ass off at that. Hey, laughing doesn 't count as talking. Gojo just makes strained noises at the security agent, who Toji shares a brief moment of camaraderie with at the kid 's flailing.

They board the plane not long after. It 's just the two of them in their row, thank fuck, but there 's a little old lady across the aisle who 's bound to be an inevitable spectator of their eventual bickering. Toji makes a mental note to have the flight attendant buy her an extra in-flight refreshment or something. On Gojo 's credit card, of course.

The kid nudges him with his elbow about ten minutes after take-off. 'Hey, Toji, check it out. That cloud over there is shaped like a bird. '

Toji quirks an eyebrow. He almost throws it in the brat 's face that he 's just lost their stupid game before realizing that he actually doesn 't give a shit. Yeah, he kinda sees it; the wings are a little lopsided, though. But that 's not what makes him squirm in his seat.

He 's pretty sure that 's the first time Gojo has ever addressed him by name, and it sounds a little weird coming from him. 'Did you just call me

'Toji '

? ' he says redundantly.

Gojo peeks over his shoulder from where his face is pressed against the window, now foggy from his warm breath. 'Huh? Oh, yeah. You can call me by my given name, if you want. Since I 'll call you by yours. '

'Yeah, I 'm not doing that. Since when were we on a first name basis? '

Suspicious, Gojo narrows his eyes. 'And what 's your last name? '

...is it really Zen 'in? For some reason, that just doesn 't feel right. Ugh, this is embarrassing. He finds himself

wanting

to say Tsukumo, but

god,

he just can 't. 'Fine. Toji it is. I 'm not doin ' that for you, though. '

Gojo just goes back to staring out the window, as if he cares so little he doesn 't even need to respond. Hey, maybe this has a shot at being a half-peaceful flight. He 's proven wrong a few minutes later when Gojo prods him on the shoulder. 'Look, that cloud looks like a person with their left side missing. ' His lips twist into a self-satisfied smirk. 'Kinda like you after our second fight. '

Toji refuses to take the bait on that one. 'Why were we even fighting on that day? '

'Cuz you tried to kill me. '

Toji rolls his eyes. 'And

why

was I tryin ' to kill you? '

'Because you 're an asshole. ' He pokes Toji again. 'And nothing 's changed. '

Dumbass. Toji kicks his feet up against the seat in front of him, the comfort of its passenger be damned. 'Go ahead, keep testin ' me. Wanna find out if I 'll really toss ya out the emergency exit of this plane? '

'But I can fly, ' Gojo replies with a big dumb grin.

'Oh, right. Must be all that hot air inside your head. '

'Yeah. And you sink like a rock because of how dense you are. '

The little old lady across the aisle is frowning at them. Not like Toji really cares, but it 's gonna be a long night already. After a few more minutes of silence, Toji changes the subject. 'So, uh. Tell me about your kids. '

He can practically

feel

Gojo 's guard go up, entirely different from the Limitless already surrounding him. He narrows his frigid blue eyes into razor-sharp icicles. 'Why? '

Toji huffs in aggravation. Why does this seem like such a touchy subject for him? 'Christ, just makin ' conversation. Jeez, most parents

like

to brag about their kids. Guess it was kinda stupid of me to assume you 're like most parents, though. '

For another moment, Gojo surveys him cautiously, searching with those Six-Eyes for something Toji 's not sure that he has. Toji can 't tell if he finds it; but some of the tension eventually slips from his shoulders, and he slumps back against his seat. 'No, I like bragging about them too, ' he begins. 'My daughter 's such a sweetheart. Honestly, I 'm half-convinced she 's literally an angel. I don 't think she has a mean bone in her whole body. '

The kid lets out a little laugh. 'My son couldn 't be more different, though. I can 't remember the last time we had a conversation where he didn 't make some retort at me at least once. And he keeps getting into scuffles at school! He always wins them though, which is totally hilarious. I 've been to like thirty parent-teacher conferences already. ' He chuckles fondly. 'He 's such a menace. I 'm so proud of him. '

Toji snorts. 'Heh. He sounds like me. '

'No! ' Gojo barks, far too quickly. His whole body jerks against the seatbelt so hard it almost tears in two. 'I mean, uh, no. He 's not anything like you. In fact, he 'd hate you, I bet. '

Seriously? Toji grimaces. 'Wow, thanks. I bet Maki would hate you too. '

'Good. '

'Great. '

God, this is so incredibly awkward. Toji almost preferred being mortal enemies to this.

There are three seats in the row; Gojo 's in the window seat, and Toji 's next to the aisle. The middle seat between them feels like it stretches for miles, an impossibly deep and impassable chasm which none could cross.

Then Gojo crosses it four seconds later. Surprisingly, the brat actually makes another attempt at conversation after that. 'So what 's Maki like? ' asks Gojo, and it sounds strangely earnest.

Well, Toji supposes he can answer this one, because dammit, it 's

his

turn to brag about his kid. 'She 's a real spitfire. Got a lotta fight in her, and even more heart. I 've never met anyone with more determination, spirit, or resilience than her. She didn 't really know how to be a kid when I first found her cuz of how she was treated in that fuckin ' Zen 'in clan, but she 's got a pal now that 's helpin ' her come outta her shell. ' Toji leans back against his seat. 'Turns out she loves little animals, especially the family of ducklings that lived by the river near us. They took off for the winter though, and I think she was pretty bummed about that. '

Gojo is oddly quiet after that. He goes back to gazing out the window, eyes detached and unseeing behind those inky-blank lenses. 'She sounds pretty cute. '

'Yeah, she 's the cutest goddamn kid to ever walk the planet, ' he replies, and he knows he 's really rambling on about her now, but whatever. 'It 's her birthday soon, actually. I 've been plannin ' her party for the past couple of days. '

The kid perks up. 'Can I come? '

'No. '

'Oi! You didn 't even think about it! '

'Why would I need to?! ' Toji returns. 'Seriously though, she 's perfect. God, I 'd do anything for her. '

'Sounds like you really love her, huh? ' Gojo says in a small voice. His eyes are looking anywhere but Toji 's.

'Yeah, 'course I do. ' He flicks the brat on his temple. Gojo turns to face him with his lips downturned. 'I mean, you get it, right? Bet you love your kids too. '

Gojo 's eyes widen owlishly, as if no one 's ever asked him that before. He opens his mouth to say something that doesn 't live past his tongue, pivots his head back towards the window, then nods so imperceptibly Toji 's sure no one other than him would 've caught it.

So Toji shakes it off. 'Anyways. You raisin ' your kids with another daddy?"

Gojo 's eyes drop to the stained carpet on the floor of the plane. 'He 's not...around anymore. '

Ouch. 'Sorry about that, I guess, ' Toji replies with a frown.

The kid scowls. 'You should be, ' he bites back.

Toji doesn 't really have any context for that random bout of aggression, but there 's something about the way Gojo is looking at him that 's really pissing him off. 'Oh sure, blame it on me. Bet that must be easier than blaming it on yourself. '

Well fuck,

that

must 've hit a nerve. Gojo 's expression twists into something almost identical to the one he wore when Toji hacked his arm off. 'Y 'know, you 're a real asshole! '

Toji flaps a hand. What 's that phrase again? The pot calling the kettle black, or something like that. 'How about we just don 't talk for the rest of the flight? '

'Took the words right outta my mouth, ' Gojo mumbles, and they 're both actually quiet after that.

Thankfully, Gojo changes into his regular uniform when they land. Toji 's half convinced he wore the Hawaiian getup just to spite him. They swiftly make their way outside the airport to find a car already waiting for them, which Toji really should 've expected. The driver pointedly refuses to look at him. Toji 's less insulted by that than he probably should be.

The car winds through the snowy streets of Hokkaido, powdery white winds swirling in eddies outside the vehicle 's dark-tinted windows. The trees have shed their leaves this time of year and instead the branches are draped with curtains of snow, thin sheets of ice clinging to the dead plant matter. Warm yellow lights from cozy indoor spaces wink in and out like fireflies, tapering off slowly as they head into the mountains.

The roads are cold and bare, and the car eventually stops in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Gojo hops out of the vehicle after nudging Toji with his elbow. Begrudgingly, Toji follows. He 's wishing he dressed warmer now. Not like the cold really has any effect on his reinforced body, but he really could 've gone without the ice crusting over against the warmth of his hands.

'So what are we even lookin ' for? ' Toji asks as the two of them meander into a thicket of trees, distancing themselves from the barely-paved road.

'The only eyewitness said the curse is somewhat humanoid, if that humanoid was the size of a dump truck. No eyes, big mouth on its chest with a couple tongues. Eight legs like a spider and crawls like one too. Sounds lovely, amirite? '

'Oh yeah, I 'm sure I 'll swoon, ' Toji drawls. 'Do ya think those tourists are even alive anymore? '

Gojo shrugs. 'Who knows? It 's at least worth a shot. '

In agreement, Toji nods. 'Yeah, that reward money 's really somethin '. '

'Well--not just that, ' Gojo says, quieter now. 'Would be nice if we could save them. '

Toji tilts his head. 'Save them? I wouldn 't have thought you 'd care about that. '

Gojo holds out his palm, a few tiny snowflakes sticking to his slender fingertips. 'I

used

to not care about it, ' he murmurs. 'Did you know? You can only save people who

want

to be saved. '

Huh. Toji blinks away the ice trying to cling to his eyelashes. 'I see. '

The two shuffle through the snow in silence for a bit, climbing carefully over the jagged slate jutting out of the mountainside and over snapped twigs and pulverized rock. It 's slippery, so Toji has to watch his step. Beside him, the kid seems like he 's walking on air; Toji resists the urge to knock him over just for the hell of it.

'Oh, I meant to ask you this earlier, ' Gojo eventually begins. 'If you can 't remember anything about your life before our fight, how did you come to the conclusion that Maki is your daughter? '

'I don 't remember nothing, just...

almost

nothing, ' Toji starts. 'When I first ran into her, I remembered I had a kid with a real pretty name starting in

M

and ending in

i

, so I figured, who else could it be, right? She had almost no cursed energy and movements just like mine -- it was like lookin ' in a mirror, and I just knew. ' Toji swats away a pinecone that drops from overhead. 'How 'd you end up with your kids? '

Gojo looks...a little nauseous, for some inexplicable reason. Man, what a weirdo. 'Uh...it just sorta happened. '

When it becomes clear he 's not gonna say anything else, Toji huffs in exasperation. 'Damn, what a story. Anyone ever told ya you 've got a real way with words? '

But Gojo shakes it off and chuckles. 'At least every other word outta my mouth isn 't a curse word. '

'Hey, I won 't apologize for that. Say what ya want about my potty mouth, but I bet ya can 't name a single other word with more versatility or emotion than

'fuck. '

'

Gojo ponders for a moment before responding. 'Well, okay. I 'll give ya that one. '

'Oi, don 't agree with me. It 's creepin ' me out. '

'Then what the fuck do you want from me?! ' Gojo shoots back with a laugh, putting extra emphasis on the curse word. Toji has to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from laughing too.

'I wouldn 't have thought those prissy clan leaders would let ya speak like that, ' Toji notes. His stomach churns a bit at the reminder that Maki was whipped when she did the same.

Gojo seems to notice his sudden queasiness and overcompensates with energy in response. 'Well, they 're more lenient if you 're a future clan leader yourself, ' he explains.

'Huh? Is that what you 're gonna do when you grow up? '

'Old man, I already

am

grown up, ' the kid replies. 'I dunno, maybe. I don 't really wanna. Lately I 've been thinking about becoming-- ' he cuts himself off. 'Never mind. But y 'know, my childhood best friend was a future clan leader too. He was pretty much the only person my family let me hang out with, so we did everything together. ' Gojo 's expression sours. 'He grew up into a real asshole, though. '

'Sucks. '

'Yeah, it really does suck, ' he says, as if he 's just now remembering something he really didn 't want to, but then he shakes it off. 'He knew you, actually. Bet he 'd totally flip if he found out you 're still alive. Even more now that we 're partners. '

'We 're not partners. '

'Oh? Then what are we? '

'I 'm your babysitter. '

'Pfft, more like the other way around, ' Gojo says, and seriously? It really isn 't. 'Anyways, he really looked up to you, for some god-forsaken reason. He talked about you a lot. '

'Creepy, ' Toji replies, only half-listening.

'Yeah, a bit. That was just his vibe, though. '

'Sounds like a great guy, ' Toji snorts.

'Aww, he wasn 't that bad back when we were kids, ' Gojo continues. He 's rambling now, because he seems like the type to do anything just to fill the silence. He probably doesn 't think Toji is really listening; oh well, he 's sorta right. 'But something changed one day, and we stopped hanging out after that. Guess he decided he didn 't wanna be my friend anymore. '

Toji quirks an eyebrow;

now

he 's listening. Hey, who can blame him? This just got mildly interesting. 'What happened there? '

Gojo pauses, for just long enough for it to not be convincing. 'I don 't know. '

God, Toji can 't believe he 's about to say this. 'Ya wanna talk about it? '

True to expectation, Gojo barks out a laugh at that. 'What are you, my therapist? '

'Christ, I literally just said I 'm your babysitter. Didn 't your parents ever teach ya listening skills? '

Yeah, Gojo

completely

glazes over that remark. Daddy issues much? 'Whatever! I 'm used to it. '

'What? People leaving? ' Toji says sarcastically.

The brat flashes him a million-watt grin bright as a spotlight and just about as fake as one, too. 'Yup! '

What the hell? 'That 's a bummer. '

Gojo flaps a hand dismissively. 'It 's no big deal. Just a fun side effect of being the strongest. '

And something about that statement just isn 't sitting right with him. Toji kicks a rock with the metal edge of his steel-toed boot, his eyes following the tumbling of the pebble as it ricochets off a nearby tree. 'So what? '

The brat scowls just in response. 'Whaddya mean,

'so what '

? '

'Oh, come

on,

kid. The strongest? Big whoop. You say that like it means you

have

to be alone. '

The change is instant. Gojo recoils away almost instinctively, like he 's just realized he 's way too close to a pile of hot coals. 'What the hell are you

on

about? ' he says slowly.

Frown deepening, 'I mean, your strength obviously ain 't

all

of you, right? Do people really treat ya like that? '

'Um, ' Gojo says in his defense, and doesn 't continue after that.

'Man, seriously? ' Sorcerers really

are

assholes, and not in the clever way that Toji is. The idea of that really sets Toji off, in a way he can 't quite put into words. 'Screw the godlike power for a second. Beneath that, you 're really just a kid. '

And that's the crux of it, isn 't it? Thinking of either himself or the brat as something more than human is what got them both into trouble in the first place. It had been painfully apparent in their most recent fight; how each of them had been entirely blinded by the other, their earthly connection to the mortal world ripped away by their desperation to tear themselves away from it, how nothing had existed outside of the battle for them. To place themselves on a different plane of existence from others is dangerous thinking -- that same reckless sense of superiority and hubris is what almost led them to killing each other,

thrice.

And besides. Toji would be willing to bet

both

of their reattached left arms that just like Maki, Gojo

also

didn 't have anything close to a normal childhood, even if he was lionized as a god instead of condemned like trash just begging to be incinerated. If people treat Gojo like his power is the only thing that gives him worth as a being, then they treated Maki like garbage because they thought she had none.

Gojo 's still staring at him in dumbfounded shock, like an old cartoon villain that 's just been whacked over the head with a baseball bat. ' 'What? ' he says in a small voice.

'I mean, you 're just some guy right? I don 't think bein ' born with six eyes and limitless energy means you 've got any less feelings than anybody else. Seriously, I wish you could see your face right now. Ya look totally freaked out, ' Toji chuckles. 'Don 't think I 've ever seen any pictures of a god that looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. '

The kid has now fallen quiet as a mouse, and Toji honestly can 't tell if he 's even breathing anymore. This time it 's his turn to fill the silence, if for no other reason than to hear himself talk. 'Sure, you 've got a special talent or whatever, but I don 't really see how that 's any different than someone who can sing really well, or make beautiful paintings, or tell interesting stories. So you can fly, yeah? Congratulations. Bet my kid 's six year old best friend could beat you in a baking contest in his sleep. '

Absently, his mind drifts back to that one morning when he 'd gotten the strange feeling that there was only one other man in the category of people who could exorcise a special grade curse but not make a decent breakfast, and suddenly he knows exactly who 's in that group with him. 'Answer me somethin '. Can you even fry an egg? '

'No, ' Gojo eventually breathes, in a voice barely above a whisper. 'I can 't. '

Toji smirks. Triumphant, once again. 'See, what 'd I tell ya? You 're just a regular guy, and no regular guy should be forced to stand up on a pedestal all by himself. Even for someone as annoying as you, I think that 's just a little bit too sad. ' He flicks Gojo on the forehead right between the eyes, warm in a way he 's afraid to label as caring. 'You 're only human, kid. Ain 't nothin ' wrong with that. '

Hey, he 's actually gotten pretty good at this whole dad-advice thing. Fuck, is that sentiment really directed towards

Gojo?

He must

really

be going soft, but he kinda knew he was screwed the moment he saw a sliver of his daughter in this kid. Toji scratches the back of his neck, surprised that he 's not more surprised with himself. 'Oh, and one more thing. '

Well, you know what they say. Go big or go home.

Gojo is looking at him expectantly. Toji heaves a deep sigh. 'I 'm not goin ' anywhere. '

Gojo 's jaw drops a little. It 's a solid minute and a half before he finally chokes out,

'Huh? '

Jeez. Toji folds his arms across his chest. 'Well, it 's like ya said before, right? We 're stuck with each other now. You 're a pain in the ass, and I 'm not gettin ' paid nearly enough for this, but I guess I 've gotta look after you. '

Just a few short words, but Gojo is looking at him like he 's just said the meaning of life. Toji doesn 't really know how to deal with that, so he breaks the kid 's gaze and sweeps his eyes across the landscape ahead of them instead. A flash of speckled skin catches his eye and Toji jabs a finger in its direction. 'Hey, I think that 's our target. '

Gojo remains out of it for another few seconds before pulling himself together. 'Yeah. Yeah! Let 's go! '

They bolt after the curse, who instantly writhes against the compacted snow at the sudden intrusion. A horrifying roar is ripped from the lungs in its chest, spittle flying off its four tongues as it pivots around to face them. It scurries with those eight creepy legs into a cave on the side of the mountain, a gaping cavity in the rock that seems freshly torn.

'Help! ' Toji hears someone cry, and he whirls around to face the desperate voice. The tour bus is dented and smeared with acidic saliva but its passengers are huddled inside, clutching each other for dear life as the curse rambles towards them. 'Save us! ' a child calls.

Toji stills.

Save us.

What 'd Gojo say before?

You can only save people who want to be saved.

Well. These people

want

to be saved. A familiar feeling slams into his chest, that determined surge of emotions he 'd felt when he was fighting the special grade curse to save Maki, and then suddenly it 's easy. Each of the people here is someone 's family.

Toji sprints towards the curse and grabs one of its ankles, flashing it a wolfish smile that 's all teeth. 'Nice to meet ya, gorgeous. How about a drink? '

He flings the beast towards the back wall where Gojo is waiting. 'Toji! Use that sword of yours to kill it! ' the kid shouts.

'Sword of

mine?! '

Toji barks back. 'It ain 't mine, it 's my

daughter 's!

I didn 't even bring it! '

'What?! ' Gojo snaps. 'Why are you so-- ' He 's cut off by the curse detaching half its limbs, arms reaching out in an attempt to wrap around Gojo 's neck. That goes about as well as you 'd expect; they implode upon impact with Limitless and Gojo trawls his cursed energy into a glowing vermillion sphere, ready to hit it with a violent burst of Reversal: Red.

The other two of the curse 's detached limbs fly towards the bus. Fuck, it 's going for the wheels.

Well, Toji can handle that. He surges over to the bus, slides his body beneath it, and heaves it up above his head.

The passengers scream at the sudden lift, but thanks to it the curse 's attack just barely misses. Toji feels the residual energy from a blast of Gojo 's attack; Blue, he detects, even though he 's not facing the kid. He eases the bus back down and returns to the fight, as the curse regenerates more limbs and attempts to grasp them.

Okay. Toji can sort of, maybe, kind of, possibly, somewhat, a little bit understand why the two of them should be partners. Gojo said they 'd need to train together to get used to each others ' fighting styles, but Toji doesn 't honestly think it 's even necessary. Maybe three death matches, even if Toji can 't remember one of them, got them used to each others ' movements on an instinctive level -- they don't need words to communicate, and they don 't even need to look at each other for him to know exactly what Gojo is doing. The fight is over in less than a minute, oozing purple curse blood spattering against the walls of the cave when Gojo hits it with a final shot of Red.

After a few tense seconds of silence, the bus of passengers bursts into cheers, tears of relief, joy, and gratitude staining their slackened faces. 'Thank you! ' they 're saying, over and over. 'We 're saved! '

Yeah, Toji could get used to this.

Toji arrives home the next day, tugging Maki into a tight hug when she welcomes him home. He feels a strange sense of pride in himself at actually coming home to his waiting child, but his brain short-circuits when Yuki pecks him on the cheek upon heading out. Judging by the bags of popcorn and scattered soda cans, the two of them had a movie marathon; Maki 's eyes are rimmed with violet, as if she 'd hardly gotten any sleep. Maki tells him how she and Yuki had stayed up late talking in between movies, and it makes Toji 's heart squeeze in his chest.

It 's a few more days before he sees Gojo again. He stops by in the middle of the day without warning, which Toji supposes he 's just gonna have to get used to. At least Maki 's at school so she doesn 't have to run into this clown.

'Yo! ' the kid greets with a casual wave. There 's a canvas bag slung over his shoulder that swings as he teeters through the doorway. Man, Toji 's gotta get a deadbolt or something. Not like it would help, but it would prove a point. 'Catching up on your rest, old man? I get it, physical activity must be strenuous for people your age. '

Toji frowns. 'Oi, I 'm only-- ' he snaps his jaw shut. 'Hey, do you know how old I am? '

'You 're 34, ' the kid replies, surprisingly quickly. It makes Toji wonder just how much else the kid knows about him that he 's not saying. He 'd ask for more details, if he wasn 't such a coward. He still recalls Yuki accidentally saying how many people wanted him dead. 'By the way, you missed your own birthday recently. Isn 't that totally hilarious? '

'Not really, ' Toji grumbles. 'When was it? '

'December 31st. '

Uh, okay. Toji jots it down in the jumbled clutter of mental notes scrawled across his head. Well, even if he 'd known it was his birthday back then, he doesn 't think he would 've spent it any differently. 'Happy late birthday to me, I guess. '

'Yeah, yeah, whatever. ' Gojo sets down his bag on the counter. 'Anyways, brought you some presents! Not for your birthday, though. These are specifically because you 're a dumbass. '

Toji rubs his temples. He can feel a migraine coming on

real

fast. 'Wow, thanks. '

'You 're welcome! I 'm not really sure how much you actually remember about the jujutsu world, so I brought you some books to catch you up to speed. Don 't need you holding me back, now. '

Isn 't that the whole reason they 're partners in the first place? To keep this idiot from running wild? He eyes the books Gojo smacks onto the counter. Ew, seriously? Toji genuinely cannot remember the last time he picked up an actual book, if ever.

'The hell do you want me to do with these? '

'Um, read them? ' His face splits into an irritating smirk. 'You

can

read, can 't ya? '

'Of course I can read, jackass! ' Toji snaps. ' 'We 've texted before! '

'Actually, you 've never replied to any of my texts, so I really had no way to know for sure. '

'Don 't count on it happening now, ' Toji mumbles. 'Fuck around and find out if I 'll really block your number. '

'Yeah, I have like, six phones. ' The brat fishes out one last item from the bag. 'Uh, by the way. I also brought--here. ' He places a neatly-wrapped gift onto the counter. 'Give this to your daughter for her birthday, or something. ' He looks a little guilty in a way Toji can 't quite place but shakes it off a moment later. 'Don 't open it or anything, nosy guy. It 's not for you. '

'Yeah, 'course not, ' Toji says, and opens it the moment Gojo walks out the door. Hey, he 's not just gonna give his daughter a random present from the guy who almost murdered him without checking it first. Toji feels a little bad that he doesn 't know when Gojo 's kids ' birthdays are, but whatever. It 's not like they 'd ever expect anything from him, right? He peels back the wrapping, the birthday-cake printed paper crinkling as he carefully unfolds it to survey what 's inside.

It 's a little stuffed duckling. Toji vaguely recalls telling Gojo offhand that Maki had been sad when the family of ducks took off for the winter; he 's surprised Gojo remembered, because not only does that mean he actually

listened,

it also means he actually

cared.

The mental image of Gojo stumbling cluelessly through a toy store trying to pick something out is dangerously close to sweet, and Toji finds himself chuckling under his breath.

Okay, so maybe Gojo isn 't the worst guy on the planet after all.

-----------------------

Gojo feels like the worst guy on the planet right now.

He swirls the empty canvas bag absently around his wrist as he trots down the metal staircase from Toji 's apartment. This would be so much easier if Toji were a terrible person, but he 's

not.

Gojo 's heard that a hard reset is often the best way to repair something that 's broken; like turning a machine off then turning it back on again, sometimes the problem just fixes itself.

It 's strange. Some of the residual effects of Toji 's lifetime of abuse and tragedy are still there, but maybe not directly remembering it made him less hollow and cynical than he 'd been when they first met; further, having a kid around seems to have softened him. Kinda makes Gojo wonder why he abandoned Megumi and Tsumiki to begin with.

Well. Not like Gojo minds that last thing. One man 's trash is another man 's treasure, or something like that.

God, he 's so sappy when it comes to them.

He makes his way through Tokyo back to his building. He jabs the elevator button to his penthouse a little harder than he probably needs to, because he 's too lazy to practice his short-range teleportation right now. He 's okay at it so far, but it takes a lot out of him. The doors open with a little ding and he meanders into the main room nonchalantly, burying his doubts so deep into the back of his mind they compact into fossil fuel.

'Hey, kiddos! I 'm home! '

'Welcome back, Satoru! ' Tsumiki chirps, padding over to him with a friendly smile. From the couch, Megumi throws him an unenthusiastic wave without looking away from the Pok 'mon episode flashing across the TV screen.

'Megumi! I know you missed me too! C 'mon, say hi, say hi! ' Gojo sings.

'Hi, ' Megumi deadpans, in the most flat tone capable of a human being. Gojo cracks up.

'Aw, Pok 'mon again? I still haven 't convinced ya that Digimon is the superior monster battling series? '

Megumi shrugs. 'I mean, you seem happy with being wrong, but okay. '

'Pfft. ' Gojo perches on the armrest of the couch like a cat. 'What about you, Tsumiki? Have I pulled you over to the dark side yet? '

'I think they 're both equally fun! ' she says earnestly. Gojo 's expression softens. She 's impossible to banter like that with, but it 's just so precious he can 't bring himself to mind.

'Did you kids have a good day at school? ' Gojo asks, kicking up his feet against the couch cushions. He 's aware that he 's contorted in a way no normal person would sit on a couch, but oh well.

Tsumiki 's face falls a little and she starts fidgeting with the heart-shaped buttons on her shirt. Megumi turns up his chin. Yeah, Gojo knows what

this

means.

'Yamanaka-sensei wants to see you again tomorrow, ' Megumi states.

'Oh? And what for? ' Gojo says with a wide grin, because he already knows the answer.

Tsumiki frowns. 'Megumi got into another fight with that one bully, Matoba. '

Gojo turns to face his son. 'Did you kick his ass, Megumi? '

'Obviously, Satoru. '

'Awesome. Fuck yeah, stick it to 'em. '

'You shouldn 't encourage him! ' Tsumiki declares, thrusting her hands resolutely to her tiny hips. 'It 's not okay to hurt others. '

She looks so distraught that it makes Gojo a little sad, but this happens every time. He ruffles her hair affectionately. 'I know. I 'll talk to Yamanaka-sensei and iron everything out, okay? It 'll be alright. ' He 's actually gotten pretty good at flirting the warnings off Megumi 's report cards. He prods Megumi on the shoulder, who instantly shrugs him off. 'Megumi, did you hear her? It 's not okay to hurt others. ' Gojo stifles a laugh. 'Unless they deserve it. Or if it 's funny. But those are the only two acceptable times. '

'Satoru! ' Tsumiki whines. Gojo just laughs. He has about as much ability to scold them as he does at frying eggs, but it 's too fun for him to care.

After a moment, Gojo straightens up on the couch. 'What do ya want for dinner? ' He 's found they don 't really mind takeout every night as long as he plates it first. They 've caught him pretending to pull dinner out of the oven as if he 'd cooked it a couple of times, but whatever.

'How about that okonomiyaki place down the street? ' Megumi suggests.

'Nice try. No. Tsumiki gets to pick tonight because she 's a good girl. '

Megumi 's cheeks puff up at that. Cute. 'But I couldn 't be a good girl even if I tried. '

'Well, ya win some, ya lose some. ' Gojo waves him off and looks at his daughter. 'So. What 's on the menu for tonight? '

Tsumiki 's face lights up like a sunrise at dawn. 'Ramen! '

Food 's on the table about twenty minutes later. Megumi reluctantly slurps his noodles while Tsumiki happily feasts away. Gojo twirls his ramen around his chopsticks, ignoring the fact that he 's playing with his food the same way his kids do. Well, more like Megumi does. Tsumiki tends to be more proper.

Memories from earlier in the day thump against his head like a heavy-beating drum all throughout the meal. Toji had looked at him a little like he wondered what Gojo knew about him that he didn 't;

if only,

Gojo muses to himself. Toji might try to kill him again, if he found out, and that could be the end. It could be.

'Hey, kids, ' Gojo says after dinner. The question crawls up his esophagus and threatens to tear through his throat, ready to suffocate him if he doesn 't speak it soon enough. When he finds his voice it 's hoarse and grating. 'What would you do if I found your dad? '

His kids both go quiet at that. Tsumiki squirms in her seat and Megumi snaps one of his chopsticks, the cheap wood splintering into jagged shards. 'Why would that even matter? ' Megumi sneers. 'I would want nothing to do with him. He abandoned Tsumiki and I and left us all alone to rot and starve. What kind of person would ever want a father like that? ' He sets his broken chopsticks onto the table, expression far too bitter and jaded for a six year old. 'Honestly? I wouldn 't even care if he 's dead. '

Gojo swears he can feel a knife literally plunge into his heart. 'You don 't mean that. '

'How can you be so sure? ' Megumi shoots back. 'It 's not like you knew him. '

Fuck.

Gojo just barely gulps down the acid that rushes up his windpipe. 'Do you even

remember

him? '

'Not really, ' Megumi replies. 'I 've blocked it out. '

What kind of kid has to block out their childhood before they 've even left it? Gojo 's chest sinks. 'Do you, Tsumiki? '

'Well, he and my mommy eloped, so I only met him once, ' Tsumiki begins. 'That was the last time I ever saw her. Because of that, I did everything I could to forget about him. Honestly, I...I don 't really remember anything about him, either. ' Tsumiki sniffles. 'All I know now is how much of a monster he was for taking my mommy away from me. '

Shit, he can 't take much more of this. Gojo lets out a shaky sigh and opens his mouth, but Megumi beats him to it. 'Why? ' he asks. 'Did you find him? '

'No, ' Gojo whispers, even if his conscience is kicking and screaming at him when he says it. 'It was just hypothetical. '

Megumi surveys him, watchful. His dark lashes flutter when he looks away. 'Okay. '

'So-- ' Gojo begins, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his lip from trembling. 'That means even if I

did

find him, you guys would still wanna stay with me, right? '

'Of course! ' Tsumiki chirps. 'You 're the only guardian we need now, Satoru! '

God, she 's such an angel. Gojo doesn 't know what he did to deserve her. 'Megumi? ' he croaks. 'What about you? '

For a while, there 's no reply. It 's a deafening kind of quiet, the kind that roars in Gojo 's head like a radio stuck on the same channel, his ears ringing with static. He knows he 's a sorry excuse for a parent, still barely of age, and probably less mature than the kids he 's supposed to be raising. ' After about thirty seconds, Gojo resigns himself to the notion that Megumi just isn 't going to reply; he 's caught somewhat off-guard when in a voice barely louder than his breathing, Megumi utters, 'Yeah. I would wanna stay with you too, Satoru. '

And Gojo can 't hold himself back after that. He pulls them both into his arms with a sigh of relief, crashing over him with the force of a tsunami. He 's screwed, he knows; everything blowing up in his face someday is obviously inevitable, but

dammit,

he 's gonna hold onto this for as long as he can. Tsumiki throws her arms around him and nuzzles into his neck. Megumi doesn 't hug back, because he never does, but Gojo doesn 't miss how he scoots a little closer.

'Alright, ' Gojo murmurs. 'I 'll watch over you forever then, okay? '

Gojo barely gets any sleep that night. It doesn 't matter if his eyes are open or closed; all he can see is that look on Toji 's face when he stopped their fight, roaring that he wouldn 't let his child be taken away from him. The raw emotion in his voice had been furious, desperate. For only the second time in his life, Gojo had honestly thought he might be about to die.

And what would 've happened then? Tsumiki and Megumi would 've been left all alone,

again.

Gojo can 't afford to fuck up, not anymore. He was once indifferent towards the idea of dying, but he was only living for himself back then. It 's almost funny how little he knew what he was getting into when he took Megumi and Tsumiki off the streets and into his life.

Nauseous, Gojo rolls over onto his stomach, Toji 's rough yet kind words from their first mission together echoing in his mind like wind whistling through a canyon.

'I 'm not goin ' anywhere. We 're stuck with each other now. Guess I 've gotta look after you. '

Fuck, he feels sick.

Morning comes and Gojo ushers Megumi and Tsumiki off to school -- leaving him alone with his thoughts, which is always a fun time. Maybe bothering the old man will make him feel better about the whole betrayal and child theft thing; probably not, but it 's worth a try. Even if it fails, getting on Toji 's nerves promises to be more entertaining than sorting through boring mission requests that are totally beneath him, let alone the two of them

together.

He 's more tired now than he was yesterday, but he supposes he should work on his short-range teleportation at some point. Hey, he might be able to teleport right into Toji 's kitchen if he

really

puts his back into it.

He misses, but only by a little bit. He makes it to Toji 's front porch and kicks open the door with his heel, ignoring the way he definitely does

not

hear a deadbolt meant to keep him out snap in the process.

Toji is speaking when he saunters inside. 'You 're terrible at this. '

'Be quiet! I 'm trying to concentrate, ' a little girl quips, then both of them stop talking. Oh,

shit.

Gojo paralyzes in the entryway when three pairs of eyes glue onto him.

'Gojo, ' Toji grouses, and it 's in how articulate he says it that Gojo knows he 's

really

in trouble, 'What the hell are you

doing

here? '

How he manages to look so intimidating despite two tiny children painting his nails is beyond the scope of human understanding. That glare, feral and wild and animalistic, activates a fight-or-flight instinct inside him Gojo never even knew he still possessed; it makes the healed seam on his left shoulder pang with agony as if it 's freely gushing blood again. At least Gojo had been right about that one thing during their fight: it really did leave a nasty scar.

'Gojo? ' the girl repeats. Her hair is the same color as Toji 's eyes, so there is

some

physical resemblance, even if it isn 't half as much as Toji 's resemblance to Megumi; but more than that, the way they carry themselves is exactly the same. That squaring of their shoulders indicating constant readiness to fight, their blood humming like a live wire, dangerous and electric -- their heads held high with a unique brand of dignity, no matter how many times Gojo knows they 've been stomped on.

Yeah, it makes sense that he 'd think this girl is his daughter. Gojo heard of a young lady in the Zen 'in clan that had been killed somewhat recently, he just hadn 't assumed it would be

her.

Guess it 's convenient they 're both technically dead. On paper, at least.

Maki sets the bottle of nail polish beside her, fingertips dripping with red. The bloody color is a little ironic. 'You 're the one who hurt Toji. '

Oh, shit. Toji 's jaw drops. 'How do you know that? '

'I overheard Yuki say it a few weeks ago, ' she grouses, her attention still drilling straight through Gojo 's skeleton into his marrow.

He holds up his hands in a placating gesture. 'Well, uh, we did get into a bit of a scuffle once-- ' Well, okay, not

once,

but that's not the point here. '--but we 're friends now! '

Toji levels him a disapproving look. Yeah,

friends

might be a bit of an overstatement. 'Err, coworkers? '

Maki and Toji both look like they 'd beat him up together if this other kid weren 't here. Judging from his civilian level of cursed energy, Gojo can only assume he 's a non-sorcerer -- not like Toji and his not-daughter follow along with that, though.

'Hi! I 'm Yuuji Itadori! ' the boy announces, kicking his little feet with excitement, somehow completely oblivious to the murderous aura radiating off the other two people on the couch. 'Maki and I have today off from school, so we 're doing a spa day! Can I paint your nails too? '

'Sure, ' Gojo agrees, almost too quickly. Anything to get Maki and Toji from boring their eyes right through his skull. He should just cut his losses and get out, but something about the idea of Toji staying

this

angry at him is distinctly unappealing.

It 's easy to

pretend

Maki isn 't glaring at him when he sits beside Yuuji on the couch, but it 's hard to

ignore

-- and suddenly he 's acutely reminded that the sword capable of cutting through Limitless is actually hers. He has zero doubts that she knows how to use it. He wonders if she can tell he 's a sorcerer. Probably. She grew up around

Naoya,

she must know an asshole teenage sorcerer when she meets one.

'So you 're Toji 's coworker? ' Maki says. 'And what do

you

do specifically? '

Gojo 's eyes widen. Oh, she

totally

knows. How the hell is he supposed to answer this in front of Yuuji and Toji? He gives Toji a look of panic; the old man seems unsympathetic, but still saves him the struggle of responding.

'We, uh...we save people together, ' Toji explains. Maki softens a little at that, just enough for Gojo to feel like he can breathe again.

'Whoa! You save people? ' Yuuji exclaims. 'That 's what I wanna do when I grow up! '

Not like this,

Gojo says to himself as the kid starts sloppily painting his nails. Yuuji picks up a thin-tipped marker with a look of concentration, his little tongue sticking out through a gap between his teeth.

'Do you want a design? ' the kid asks.

'What kind of designs do you know how to do? '

'None. '

'Perfect. Give it your best shot, little guy. '

Yuuji gets to work, scribbling on his nailbeds. 'I 'm gonna do flowers, ' he declares. 'Do you have a favorite flower? '

Huh. Gojo has genuinely never given it any thought ever before. But he remembers a day back in second year when he 'd been wandering with Suguru through a garden, their fingertips brushing together accidentally-on-purpose, his one and only pointing towards a tree on the far side of the gravelly walkway. 'Uh, plumerias. '

'What 's a plumeria? '

Just think of the gayest flower you can possibly fathom and do that,

Gojo almost says. He can 't help the way his mood dampens a little, much like it always does when he remembers his almost-ex. They were totally dating! Suguru just hadn 't known it yet. Instead he clears his throat and replies, 'Kinda like a daisy, but with thicker petals and less of them. '

'Okay! ' chimes Yuuji. 'It 's gonna look really pretty, I promise! '

'I believe ya, ' Gojo chuckles. Yeah, he does not believe this kid in the slightest.

He 's pleasantly surprised, though -- the kid 's not actually half-bad. Gojo is absolutely keeping this manicure for as long as possible, just to piss off Yaga and the higher-ups.

Maki seems like she wants nothing to do with him. Gojo supposes he can accept that.

'Why do you wear sunglasses inside? ' Yuuji inquires.

'Because it looks awesome, ' Gojo replies.

Toji snorts; Gojo elects to ignore it. Whatever, his fashion sense is nonexistent.

'Cool! Can I try them on? '

Well, Gojo figures he can put up with the headache for a little bit. Besides, it might win him some points with Maki and Toji; he 's not gonna try to analyze why he cares about that. 'Sure, but only for a second. '

He passes Yuuji his pitch-black glasses and watches in amusement as the kid waves his hand in front of his face, blinded. 'Whoa, I can 't see a thing. I bet I 'd walk right into a tree if I wore these outside. I totally want some! '

Gojo has never really liked any kids other than his own, but why is this one kind of adorable? Honestly, Megumi could use a friend like him. They'd complement each other perfectly.

Shortly, Yuuji returns his glasses then gets back to work on his manicure. 'So why do you kids have the day off? ' Gojo eventually asks.

'It 's parents ' day tomorrow, ' Maki explains. Nice, she 's not ignoring him for the moment. 'The teachers have to prepare the classrooms and put together our report cards. '

Oh hey, it 's parents ' day at Megumi and Tsumiki 's school tomorrow, too. It 's gonna drive Megumi up the wall to have him there, which of course is all the more reason to go. 'Ooh, sounds fun. Yuuji-kun, what do your parents do for a living? '

Yuuji startles at the question and jerks in surprise, accidentally smearing a black line across Gojo 's fingers with the marker he 's using. He clamps his mouth shut and averts his gaze to the floor, looking strangely crestfallen.

Toji shoves off the couch and picks Gojo up by the scruff of his collar like a kitten, dragging him to the opposite side of the room. He plops Gojo down and folds his arms across his chest.

'They 're dead, asshole, ' Toji growls under his breath. Gojo stills. How the hell was he supposed to know that? His guts churn with guilt all the same. 'Normally he 's fine about it, but ya really had to ask

today?

He 's already depressed about the fact that tomorrow, he doesn 't have anyone to take him. ' Toji scrubs his temples. 'Me and Yuki offered to, but everyone already knows we 're not his parents, so none of us have a clue what to do. '

Okay, he 's just gonna ignore

'me and Yuki '

and the

'we '

in

'we 're not his parents '

for now. There 'll be plenty of time to rub Toji 's stupidly obvious crush in his face later. 'That kinda sucks. '

In agreement, Toji grunts. 'Yeah, it

really

sucks. Ain 't he such a cute kid? '

Gojo nods at him. 'Yeah, real cute. Sure hope nothing catastrophically tragic and life-ending happens to him within the next five to ten years. '

Toji 's eyebrows narrow. 'What the actual fuck is wrong with you? '

Gojo shrugs. Where would he even

begin

to answer that? All he knows is that the end result would be shock therapy. 'Hey, you never know with these things. '

The old man thrusts his hands onto his hips. 'Oi, brat. Be helpful for once and take him to parents ' day tomorrow. '

Gojo frowns. 'I can 't! It 's parents ' day at my kids ' school too! '

A reply in the form of rolled eyes. 'Has anyone ever told ya that you 're totally useless? '

'No, actually, ' Gojo chuckles.

Toji gives him a flat look. 'You 're totally useless. '

Pfft.

Gojo can 't decide if Toji being the one of the only people to treat him like an actual human is wonderful or terrifying, but for now it 's just funny. 'Hang on, I know someone who might be able to help. '

He excuses himself and whips out his phone, pulling up the contact even though he has the number memorized. He presses the call button and raises the device to his ear. True to his nature, the recipient picks up after the first ring.

'Gojo, I told you not to call me anymore, ' a gruff voice says from the other end of the line.

'That 's no way to greet someone! '

'I don't care. Goodbye. '

'Wait! You haven 't even heard what I 'm going to say yet! '

'I 'm not interested. '

Gojo gulps. 'Hey, don 't hang up on me. I 'm not going to ask you to come back, I swear. '

'Oh? ' the voice says, intrigued. 'Then what is it? '

'It 's just ' '

Gojo lets his gaze wander back to Yuuji. His eyes are downcast, youthful mirth drained out of those shining pools and replaced with something too close to acceptance for Gojo to stomach. A sweet kid like Yuuji doesn 't deserve to be alone, not now. He 'll convince this person to help, he

has

to. Besides, he 's got a funny feeling it 's not going to take very much convincing.

'...I need you to do me a favor,

Nanamin. '