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"Mimiko-chan," Satoru loomed over her shoulder, his chin practically resting on the crown of her head as he peered down at her latest masterpiece. Extending his long fingers toward the bright green circle sitting stubbornly in the corner of the page, he chimed, "The sun is usually red or a vibrant orange."
He tilted his head as if he were viewing a particularly confusing piece of modern art. "Not... lime green. It looks like a giant grape, kiddo."
From across the low coffee table, Suguru didn't even lift his gaze from the coloring book spread out before him. He was hunched over, his long dark hair spilling over one shoulder, as he guided Nanako to color the blue wings of a butterfly within the lines.
"Satoru... she’s four. Let her reinvent the solar system in peace." He took Nanako’s hand and smoothed out the color in the tricky corner of the butterfly wings. "There you go, Nana," he whispered, his eyes softening as the blue wax filled the paper perfectly. "Yes, nice and slow. Perfect."
He lifted his head and gave Satoru a sidelong glance with a fond curve of his mouth. "Besides, if she wants a lime-flavored sun, she can have one."
"Okay, okay." Satoru dropped his height and slouched his shoulders so that his chin was tucked against the top of Mimiko's head. He hauled her into a rib-cracking side hug that made the little girl squeak.
"Owww, Dad!" Mimiko gasped through a heap of giggles.
"Mimi, listen," Satoru whispered conspiratorially. "If the sun is a grape, does that mean the clouds are marshmallows? Because if so, I’m moving in."
Mimiko giggled again, wriggling her small shoulders to try and shake Satoru off, though he didn't budge an inch. "No! I won't let you in," she declared. "You will eat the clouds!"
Satoru let out a gasp of mock offense, clutching his chest as if she had wounded him. "Eat the clouds? Me?" He nudged her side with his elbow, with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "As you can see, Mimiko-chan, that cloud is very low in sugar," he pointed to a grey cloud, "it probably tastes like burnt toast. And that one right there?" He pointed to a fluffy white shape. "Now, that looks like premium vanilla stuff."
Suguru let out a short, huffed laugh at that, not looking up as he swapped a blue crayon for a purple one for Nanako. "He’s not lying, Mimi. If clouds were made of marshmallows, the sky would have been empty years ago."
Mimiko squealed, covering the paper with both of her small arms to shield her drawing from Satoru. "No! It's a house for the birds!" she protested.
Nanako looked up from her butterfly, her crayon hovering in mid-air. She looked at Suguru, then back at Satoru, her brow pinched and furrowed in a very serious thought. "Do the pink ones taste like strawberries, Dad?"
"Exactly! See, Nana gets it," Satoru beamed, pushing himself up to ruffle Nanako’s hair until it was a messy halo.
A few feet away, Tsumiki was sitting cross-legged with her math textbook propped up against the couch. She had been trying to ignore the loud "study session" of her sisters, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked through a set of long division problems. Finally, the absurdity of the conversation made her burst out laughing.
"You really are a threat to the ecosystem, Dad," she said, waving her pencil at Satoru. "And you really shouldn't distract them. Some of us are actually trying to finish our homework."
Suguru’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter as he reached over to pat Nanako’s head for finishing the picture. "Listen to Tsumiki, Satoru. You’re being outclassed by a fourth-grader. Why don't you go find something useful to do? Like getting everyone some juice?"
Satoru groaned, finally standing up straight and stretching his long limbs until his joints popped. "Fine, fine. Banished to the kitchen by my own daughters and husband," he grumbled, even though his eyes were bright with affection. "If only my son were awake to defend me."
Thump.
Satoru paused mid-stretch, his head tilting slightly.
"Spoken like a true sorcerer," Suguru whispered, leaning back in his chair and looking toward the small, dark-haired baby on the mat. "The little guy must have heard you calling for backup."
Megumi didn't cry. Instead, he slowly sat up, his hair standing in sleep-mussed spikes. He let out a long, dramatic yawn and squeezed his eyes shut as he took in a deep breath of sleepy air. As the yawn finished, he settled into a deep pout. He was clearly done with his nap and was ready to be the center of attention.
He sat there like a miniature, grumpy boy, his big green eyes tracking the movement at the table with suspicion. He looked from his sisters to his fathers, then down at his plushie, which had fallen, then back up at the adults.
"Oh, you're in trouble now," Satoru chuckled, walking toward the kitchen. "He’s doing the 'mean stare.' He definitely heard you guys being mean to me."
Suguru laughed softly, resting his chin on his hand as he watched his daughters run toward the baby. "Oh, look at those grumpy cheeks," Nanako cooed, dropping her knees beside the mat. She scooped up the fallen rabbit plushie and shook it gently to get Megumi’s attention. "Did your loud, silly dad wake you up? It’s okay, we’ve got you."
Mimiko was right behind her, reaching for the soft blanket to tuck around his legs.
"Look, Megumi-chan," she whispered, making a stuffed bear dance rhythmically in front of his face. "Don't worry. He's going to go and make us juice now."
Tsumiki leaned in, gently smoothing down Megumi’s gravity-defying hair, but it was of no use as it popped right back up instantly. Surrounded by his sisters and his favorite toys, Megumi looked like a tiny king being attended to by his royal court. He let out a small, satisfied huff and finally broke his stare. He looked at Tsumiki and let out a tiny, bubbly "Ba!", shoved the rabbit's ear into his mouth, and then started playing with the twins.
Ding-dong.
"I'll get it," Tsumiki said, already beginning to stand from her spot on the floor.
"No worries, sweetie," Suguru said. He looked over at Satoru, who was humming a mindless tune while distributing the juice. Satoru was already looking at him as if waiting for him to catch his gaze. He didn't say a word; he simply tilted his head and gave a sharp, knowing grin, his eyes glistening with mischief.
"I'll handle the door," Suguru said, moving toward the hallway. "Satoru, make sure Nanako doesn't spill that grape juice on the rug."
They weren't expecting anyone, were they?
Suguru peered through the peephole, but the fish-eye lens only showed a few distorted shadows. He pulled the door open to find four strangers standing on the porch. They were dressed in uniforms with the name "Obayashi Builders" printed on the crest of their neon safety vests.
The man at the front checked the clipboard in his hands. "Is this the residence of Mr Gojo?"
"Ah, yes," Suguru replied. The man checked something off his list.
“Can I help you?” Suguru asked, leaning against the doorframe as he took in the sight of an industrial-sized truck and a mobile crane parked out front.
“Suguru,” a voice called from the living room. Satoru closed the distance between them in two long strides. He draped an arm heavily across Suguru’s shoulders. ”Aren't you happy to see your—”
His wide smile disappeared as his gaze landed on the men in the doorway. He stopped short, blinking in surprise. "Wait... Tanaka? From Obayashi Builders?"
"Yes, sir," the lead worker nodded and offered a respectful bow.
Satoru let out a confused huff. "You weren't supposed to come by until late afternoon.”
Suguru turned his head to look at Satoru, his brows knitted together in a frown. "Satoru? What exactly is happening? Why is there a construction crew at our house?"
But Satoru didn’t glance in Suguru’s direction. Instead, he quickly closed the distance between himself and the lead worker as if he hadn't heard a word Suguru said.
"Well, since you're here early, we might as well get a jump on things, right?" Satoru said, his voice reaching a cheerful tone that was very forced. He offered a grin to the man that didn't quite reach the corners of his eyes. He clapped a hand on Tanaka’s shoulder and physically turned the man away from Suguru. ”Did you bring the blueprint for the frame? I just wanted to double-check.”
“Satoru—”
“And for the proofing material, I think we can agree on the premium layer we talked about on the phone.”
“Satoru”
“If you start drilling now, how long until the foundation is set? If we get the brickwork finished by Tuesday, can we have it installed by Friday?”
Tanaka blinked, trying to keep up with Satoru. "Well, Gojo-san, the stone-laying usually takes—"
"Satoru."
"Exactly, the stone Right, the—"
“SATORU” Suguru grabbed Satoru by the shoulders. "I'm asking you a question."
Satoru froze, but he somehow managed to keep the forced grin still plastered on his face even as Suguru’s fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.
“Oh, Suguru,” he chirped, eyes widening in fake realization as if he had just noticed Suguru standing there. “I… you’re still here? I’m pretty sure I heard Miki call you.”
"Satoru," Suguru repeated. This time, his voice was dangerously calm, and his eyes were locked onto Satoru’s. "The construction crew. The bricks. The trucks. What is going on?"
Satoru’s shoulders did a little helpless shimmy under Suguru’s grip. He let out a nervous and high-pitched laugh. "Right, the trucks. It’s just... home maintenance, Suguru. Very boring. Hahaha! Tanaka, tell him how boring it is.”
Tanaka shifted his weight, looking at the ground. "Well, actually, it's better if—"
“Exactly!” Satoru cut him off, his voice jumping an octave as he tried to twist out of Suguru's hold. “So no worries! I’ll manage—”
"Satoru," Suguru interrupted, his grip tightened just enough to stop the squirming. "You are babbling. If you don't start telling me the truth in the next five seconds, I’m sending Tanaka and his crew home."
Satoru’s shoulders slumped in Suguru’s hands. He fell silent as he let out a long, dramatic sigh that puffed out his cheeks. He looked like a balloon that had just been pricked with a needle. For a few seconds, he just stared at a very specific patch of grass near Suguru’s left shoe.
“Fine, I...” Rubbing the back of his neck, he murmured, “It’s a project for the, uh... living room.”
“A custom masonry chimney and a full-sized wood-burning fireplace, sir,” the worker added, hoping to be helpful.
“.......A what?”
"Thank you, Tanaka, you’ve been very helpful," Satoru said with a strained smile. "Please, get started."
Then, without waiting for a response, he caught Suguru by the shoulder and shoved him through the threshold into the house, slamming the heavy double doors shut behind them.
"Papa, who was that?" Tsumiki asked, looking up from the living room floor.
"Ask your dad," Suguru replied, his voice tight. He grabbed Satoru by the hand and dragged him toward the grand staircase. Satoru looked back at the kids, helplessly mouthing a ‘help me,’ to which the children responded with cheerful smiles and happy waves as they watched him be hauled away.
Once they reached their shared bedroom, Suguru kicked the door shut with a heavy thud. He spun around to face Satoru, and his composure finally snapped as he pointed wildly towards the window.
"Satoru," Suguru hissed. "Why on earth is there a contractor outside building a chimney in our house that already has central heating?"
“I mean, yeah, it’s a house, Suguru,” Satoru said, spreading his arms wide to gesture at their surroundings. “But it’s a house with no chimney.”
“We have high-end HVAC, Satoru. We have heated floors. We have literal climate control in every room. Why would you need a chimney?”
“Because,” Satoru declared, his voice rose in dramatic note, “without a chimney and a fireplace, where exactly would we hang the kids' Christmas stockings?”
“........”
The silence stretched on for five, ten, fifteen seconds. Suguru just stared at him, his eye twitching as he took a slow and long breath, trying to process everything.
It had been more than ten months since their lives had changed. After they adopted the kids, they’d spent the first few weeks living in the Jujutsu High dorms, which were a mess of filing mission reports, changing diapers, and mixing baby formula. And since Tsumiki couldn't see curses, they realized they needed a real home, preferably somewhere safe and close to Tsumiki’s school, which the twins would soon attend.
They had planned to look for a place together. Suguru had even bookmarked a few modest, comfortable four-bedroom homes near the school. But between Suguru’s missions, which tired him out, and the exhaustion of parenting, time had slipped away. Then, one Monday, Satoru barged into the dorms, swinging a set of keys and declaring that he had "handled it."
Suguru hadn't even been upset about missing the house-hunting process. In fact, he had been so relieved he’d almost cried with gratitude. That relief, however, had died the moment their car pulled into the driveway. He’d actually had to check the GPS twice because he was convinced they were at the wrong address.
What stood in front of them was not a house, but a fucking mansion that looked like it belonged to a minor royal family.
And now, ten months into living in this palace, Satoru was trying to renovate it for socks
“Satoru,” Suguru said, his voice calm. “We live in a place that has more than five bedrooms. We have a kitchen larger than the entire high school cafeteria. We have floor-to-ceiling windows and centralized heating that costs more per month than most people make in a year.”
He stepped closer, poking a finger into Satoru’s chest.
“You bought this place without even showing me a photo. I forgave you for the indoor pool. I forgave you for the fountain in the front yard that Nanako almost fell into twice. But you are telling me,” he hissed, gesturing toward the window where the sound of power tools was starting up, “that you are going to excavate this multi-million yen house… because you are worried about where to hang stockings?”
Satoru didn't retreat back and instead caught Suguru’s poking finger and kept stepping forward, closing the distance. “It’s not just about the stockings, Suguru. It’s about the vibe. This is our first Christmas together as a family. Our first one in this house. Everything has to be perfect.”
Suguru opened his mouth to argue, but Satoru talked right over him with his hands moving for emphasis.
“Think about the aesthetics! Do you want the kids to grow up with photos of themselves sitting in front of a staircase decorated with stockings? Absolutely not!”
“Satoru, you’re talking about blowing up the living room,” Suguru deadpanned.
“Think about it, Suguru.” His voice suddenly dropped, losing its cheer, and his eyes softened. “The kids in those ridiculous matching sweaters you know you’re going to buy... we can tell them how Santa came through the chimney to leave their gifts. I want them to have that, Suguru. If I have to excavate half of this house to give them a memory that feels solid and warm, I’ll do it.”
Suguru opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat as he looked into Satoru’s earnest eyes. The frustration that had been bubbling in his chest began to lose its heat; it was as if he had been hit with a bucket of cold water.
He knew Satoru had grown up in a clan that treated him like a god to be worshipped from afar. Knew he had been raised in a world of silent corridors and elders who bowed to his power but never held his hand. Looking at Satoru now, he saw the desperate and clumsy love behind the ridiculous use of the black card. Satoru wanted a chimney because chimneys were part of the stories where families stayed warm and safe, stories Satoru had only ever heard from.
Suguru couldn’t stay angry at a man who was trying hard to be a father, trying to give their children the normal childhood he never had.
The tension drained out of his shoulders all at once. And he let out a long, shaky breath as he dropped his forehead against Satoru’s chest, closing his eyes as the muffled sound of Tanaka-san’s drill echoed through the room
Satoru really made it hard for him to stay angry.
"You're a menace," Suguru muffled into Satoru’s shirt, though the bite was gone from his voice. "A sentimental, expensive, and ridiculous menace."
"But I'm your menace," Satoru chirped, sensing his victory.
"Are they really going to turn the main hall into a construction zone a month before the holidays?" Suguru asked.
"It'll be done in two weeks, Tanaka promised!" Satoru cried, his hands coming up to wrap around Suguru’s waist, pulling him close.
Suguru let out a long breath that fluttered against Satoru's shirt. He pulled back just enough to look up at Satoru’s bright, beautiful eyes. With a faint, resigned smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Suguru repeated, “Two weeks.”
His hand moved to the back of Satoru’s neck, and he let his fingers tangle in those soft, white strands. “If it’s not finished in two weeks, you will be in deep trouble.”
Satoru’s grin widened. "Deal. I promise you."
“ But you have to understand, Satoru... this is our first Christmas.” Suguru paused. “I know you're used to doing everything yourself, but next time, discuss with me, okay. “
"Yes... I’m sorry, Suguru. I'll make it up to you, okay? He held Suguru’s gaze with his own.
Suguru sighed sweetly, then hooked a finger into the collar of Satoru’s shirt and pulled him down.
The kiss was slow and quiet. It was an apology from Suguru for the shouting, and a promise from Satoru that, next time, he’d actually talk things through before making big decisions.
Suguru breathed into it, his eyes fluttering shut as Satoru’s hands slid to his lower back, drawing him in until there wasn't a breath of space left between them.
When they pulled apart, Satoru didn't let go. He kept his face inches from Suguru’s, a genuine smile playing on his lips.
"Let’s go," Satoru murmured, his thumb grazing Suguru's cheekbone. "We can pick the color of the bricks together."
Suguru just leaned his weight back into Satoru’s arms. ”Lead the way, you menace.” And Satoru didn't need to be told twice.
They were both walking to their living room hand in hand when Suguru stopped.
"Mom?"
At the center of the room sat Suguru's mom, surrounded by the kids. "Papa! Grandma came to take us to her place!" Tsumiki announced excitedly. His mom hummed and rose from the cushions, walking over to reach them.
"Hii, Suguru," she said warmly, pulling him down by the shoulder to plant a firm kiss on his forehead.
Satoru gave her a toothy and bright smile and reached out to scoop Megumi from her arms. “Welcome, Mom,” he beamed.
"Gojo, I saw the workers and the vans outside," she noted, reaching up to peck his forehead as well. “Was I late ?” Satoru leaned into her embrace like a pampered cat, while Megumi, now perched on his hip, immediately began trying to eat Satoru's hair.
"Nope. They just showed up early," Satoru grinned, completely ignoring the tiny teeths currently gnawing on his scalp.
Suguru crossed his arms, looking between his husband’s smug face and his mother’s innocent smile. "Mom... you knew about this?"
She giggled as she walked back toward the kids. "Oh, yes. Satoru called me days ago. He asked me to come pick the kids up. He said I needed to save him from you killing him." She threw a wink over her shoulder at Satoru. "Looks like our plan failed, though."
"No worries, Mom," Satoru grinned, his eyes crinkling. "Your son didn't kill me. I think I've been forgiven," He hooked an arm around Suguru’s waist.
Satoru puckered his lips to peck Suguru, as if to prove his point. He was an inch away when Megumi pressed his chubby fingers against Satoru’s mouth. Satoru looked at Megumi. He had literally jammed his whole palm against Satoru’s lips and was staring at Satoru down with a tiny, unimpressed scowl. Satoru couldnt believe it, eyes wide with shock that he was being cockblocked by someone who still needed help peeling a banana.
"Megumi, you can’t do this. Look at your papa; he is pouting because he’s not getting his kiss."
Suguru wasn’t pouting; if anything, he was enjoying the show.
"No," Megumi babbled, as a small bubble of spit appeared at the corner of his mouth. That was the most authoritative "no" Satoru had ever heard from a human who was still learning to walk.
"Kids, pack up! Let's go," Suguru’s mom laughed, clapping her hands together as she addressed the group.
"Alright, that’s enough bullying your father for one day, Megumi," she teased, hoisting the baby onto her hip.
Megumi immediately relaxed into her hold, looking quite pleased with his defensive work. Even when she turned, Megumi peered over her shoulder and watched Satoru with a suspicious and narrowed gaze.
"Come on, Megumi. Let’s leave your parents alone so they can finish their little drama," she said, walking toward the kids' room. “You both should pack up, too."