Archive of Our Own

“Yuuji-kun,” croons Satoru as he falls into a crouch next to the little boy, sunglasses falling down to the edge of his nose. His smile stretches from ear to ear, teasing. “What’re you looking at, hmm? A crush? Someone you want to play with?” 

Today has been a simple day as far as looking after a child can be, so Satoru had made the executive decision to take little Yuuji to the park. It’s been a blast so far, as things tend to be for a kid that isn’t let out that often: Yuuji’s been on the slide about a dozen times—hadn’t even screamed but giggled when he about flew off it once—and learned that he’s a master at the monkey bars (an accident at first because originally he’d only started swinging on them to avoid Satoru for tag) and he’d been playing in the sandbox building little clumpy castles until recently, where now, Satoru finds him at the edge of the park. Such a whimsical little guy! Unfortunately, if Satoru lets him run off, it will absolutely end in his own head on a platter. 

So as Satoru tilts his head in the direction the kid is looking toward, color him surprised when he finds not another child that Yuuji may or may not want to play with, but instead a gaggle of puppies and their (seemingly) long-suffering walker. 

He snickers to himself at the way the littlest one—a small, white fluffy Pomeranian—weaves between their legs, actively trying to make them trip. 

“Puppies, Yuuji-kun?” He says in delight. Nudges the little boy with his shoulder and grins at the way Yuuji grips at his shirt to tuck behind him. Such a cute kid. “Why don’t we ask if it’s okay to pet them? Come on, come on, let’s go see!” 

Except as Satoru rises to his full height, offers a hand for Yuuji to latch onto, and he does without a moment's hesitation, the moment he tries to move closer Yuuji tugs him back, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong?” Satoru questions. “It’ll be okay. There’s no harm in asking.” 

“Allergic,” Yuuji mumbles, his cheeks puffing out, and Satoru huffs a laugh, pinching one. Just as squishy as mochi. “Get all itchy an’ stuffy.” 

Oh, well, that is a problem. Satoru frowns. “Really?” How unfortunate. “So you’ve never had a dog, Yuuji-kun?” He questions, opting to pick the boy up and move into the shade instead of standing out in the sun. When Yuuji shakes his head he hums, “Well, that just won’t do. What kind of childhood is it if you’ve never had a puppy before?” Satoru says this confidently, despite the fact that in his own childhood Satoru had never had a dog or cat or any such tiny animal of his own to call a companion, but well! This isn’t about him, it's about Yuuji-kun and Satoru is his very loyal, smart, amazing caretaker. And this is a situation that has to be rectified immediately. 

(And his claws dig in deep when he wants them to; good luck getting rid of him.) 

Satoru pats his head. “You just leave it to me, okay? I’ll think of something.” 

Yuuji’s nose scrunches, and Satoru taps it. “ Allergic.” He stresses and Satoru’s grin just grows wider for it. Yuuji sure can get worked up at the silliest things. Really, as if an allergy will be a problem for him. Satoru had thought the kid had realized that by now— he’s the best after all! Though, it is rather adorable. 

Satoru hums, lifting him up so he can instead settle the kid on his shoulders—Yuuji likes to feel tall, Satoru has learned, and this way his hands are free if needed—and starts heading to the bus stop. “I kno-ow Yuuji-kun! You have to trust me. You trust me, don’t you, huh? Huh?” 

There’s giggling as he sways from side to side, only stopping when a nose nuzzles into his hair. “Mm-hm! Satoru-san is the best!” 

“Exactly! Now let’s get back before the monster knows we left!” 

“Onii-san isn’t a monster!” 

Satoru clicks his tongue in disagreement. “Ah, apologizes, apologizes. Just playing!” Definitely not. “I just don’t want Yuuji to get into any trouble after all.” Another lie—trouble would do the kid some good. “But I promise! Next time you see me, I’ll have a solution for our little problem; it’ll be the best dog ever.” 

The plan is simple; if the kid can’t have a dog, then Satoru—resident guard dog as his ‘status’—will just be one. Simple! Easy! Foolproof! He’s practically the kid's best friend already (and isn’t that something delightfully hilarious? Having to be a child’s best friend? Really, something to bust a rib or four over) and it’ll piss off the boss like nothing else. Which really seals the deal. 

“Once again, my genius astounds me.” Satoru says, strides long and unhesitant as he makes his way to the nearest pet store after dropping Yuuji off back at the compound with the rest of his caretakers. This won’t take very long and if they’re so incompetent that they can’t keep a child safe the moment he’s left, then good riddance— they aren’t worth the money being paid at that point. 

(Ah, he could probably get Yuuji to convince the young master ugh to increase his pay. Something to consider.) 

He drops a matching leash and collar—bright red. Family colors. It’ll be fantastic —onto the checkout counter. Hums a tune he’s pretty sure is from one of Yuuji’s cartoons as the items are rung up, waving away a bag when offered. Pauses when the cashier asks him something.

“Hmm?”

“That’s pretty big,” they laugh. “For a big dog?” 

“Oh, a huge  dog indeed,” Satoru agrees, grin showing off his teeth as it stretches across his face, gleeful. “Very prone to trying to bite if left off a leash.” 

“O-Oh.” 

Satoru drags a hand through his hair as he pads to Yuuji’s room. They have to meet another brat today, which Satoru doesn’t get paid nearly enough for, but it would do Yuuji some good to interact with other kids his age. Or that’s what he hopes for at least, the reality is far more likely to be a stuck-up clan brat that he won’t be able to stand and that Yuuji will try to befriend anyway because he believes in the power of friendship or something. It would be sweet if Satoru wasn’t betting that he’d have to break up a kiddy-fight by the end of the day. 

He doesn’t get paid enough to babysit. That was never supposed to be part of his day-to-day duties, and yet here he is. 

Coming to a stop in front of the door to Yuuji’s room, he thumbs at the leather circle tucked away in his pocket. Well… there could be a little fun for the both of them even if today turns out to be a dud or otherwise unbearable. 

“Yuuji-kun,” he calls, taps his finger one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four on the metal loop of the collar. “Are you ready? Today’s supposed to be tons of fun!” Slides the door open when there's an enthusiastic shout in answer. 

As soon as he steps in, there’s a pudgy face being pressed against his hip and arms curling around him to squeeze tight. Satoru smooths a hand through soft, pink spikes in a half-hearted attempt to smooth them out. “Excited, huh?” He laughs, already a little breathless. No one really warns you how nice it can be to have someone so visibly excited to see you day by day. It feels like having a twinkling star just for you. 

“Mmhm!” Yuuji beams up at him. “I get to go out with Satoru-san!” 

“That’s right, that’s right,” untangling the boy from his side, Satoru crouches, eyes crinkling into happy little lines. “But first I have a surprise for you! A solution to our very terrible, no good, absolutely horrendous dog allergy.” 

He can see the cogs turning in little Yuuji’s brain as he frowns, eyebrows pinching together before seriously he says, “Satoru-san, all dogs give me rashes.” 

How very adorable his serious little pout is Satoru could squish him until he pops, he won’t of course, because not only then would someone hunt him down like he’s some kind of degenerate—which would be a little fun, at least for a little while—but then he’d also be very Yuuji-less and that is less fun. After all, being Yuuji-less means that one, he’d have to get a regular job and there’s just no fun in that he’s very happy getting paid tons of money being a fancy bodyguard and two, he quite likes Yuuji-kun and his wild imagination and general penchant for trouble. It’s very refreshing. Besides! Yuuji made him matching friendship bracelets, and he is Yuuji’s-Official-Best-Friend-Forever and, as Best Friend, it would be terribly rude of him to do something that would hurt him. 

(And there’s also the fact that Satoru is very careful with his things.) 

Satoru pouts. “This one won’t! I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this, would I?” 

“You’re really, really, really sure?”

“The surest!” 

“Okay… I trust you.” 

How wonderful! Such a heady thing, Satoru thinks, for other people, perhaps, to be trusted so easily. Yuuji is such an earnest child—and perhaps it is childish naivety, something from his surroundings even, or something so intrinsically him. A conundrum. Terribly endearing—and Satoru’s grin shows off the sharp points of his teeth as he digs the collar out of his pocket.

Spins it in a circle with a finger in front of the boy. Watches Yuuji's nose scrunch in confusion as Satoru fits it around his own neck, the click of the lock loud in the empty room. “Me!” He announces. “You’re not allergic to me, so it’s perfect.” 

“You’re not a dog, Satoru-san,” says Yuuji even as he stands on his tiptoes to check if a tail has magically grown. Satoru ever so carefully nips at his cheek, grinning cheekily when Yuuji giggles and swats him away. 

“Why not play pretend, hmm?” Satoru hums, leaning in so he’s nearly nose to nose with his ward. Yuuji blinks at him, fingers wringing together, and Satoru bites back the urge to pinch him. Such an adorable kid. “You’re good at that, aren’t you, Yuuji-kun?” 

Yuuji’s head bobbles. “Uh-huh, the best!” 

“Then let’s pretend, okay?” Satoru says, digging the wound up leash out of his pocket next. Yuuji blinks at it, eyes open wide. Satoru grins. “Ah, that’s right. Yuuji-kun has never owned a dog before, huh?” 

He shakes his head. 

Ha, these people really are lucky that he’s not a worse person (though how much worse is debatable) leaving him alone with the little heir unsupervised, it’s rather hilarious that his interactions with the kid have hardly received so much as a second glance by most of the staff. Very lucky of them that Satoru has a soft spot—or maybe it’s something different entirely? Amusement? Affection? Territorial attachment?—for the kid.

Ah well, morality schmorality nothing to concern himself with since he’s having fun, and that’s really all he cares about. It’s not like anyone has tried to stop him, either. 

He holds up a finger. “Rule number one, you must not let me off my leash, alright, I’m very reactive and do best when you keep a hold on me. You can do that, right?” Yuuji nods again and then Satoru holds out the leash staying still as he tells Yuuji to put the clasp around the ring. Holds up a second finger, “Good job Yuuji-kun! Now the second rule and it’s very important.” 

Instantly, Yuuji stands up a little straighter even as he fiddles with the loop. Satoru pats him on the head again, just because he can. 

“You have to take good care of me,” Satoru says. “Make sure I stay well behaved and polite.” 

“You’re always polite, Satoru-san.” 

Ah, such innocence. Satoru has never been polite in his life, just very good at hiding that from his brat.

He grins. “I know that Yuuji-kun~ But I’m still your responsibility so you have to be a good owner and make sure you look after me, okay?”

“Mmm-hm!” 

Eyes the way that Yuuji holds the loop of the leash close to his chest as he nods. Smiles with just a few too many teeth as he stands, leash a long sloping thing that swings against his chest every time he pads after the boy. Narrows his eyes when one of the staff stops in the hallway at the sight of them. The lines around their eyes and mouth are tight when they smile and wish Yuuji and him a nice day out—scuttles away as soon as Yuuji gives them an exuberant wave and a childishly sweet we’re going on a walk today! 

Casually, Satoru says, “I’m going to be a very good boy today, aren’t I Yuuji-kun?” And delights in the way he hears the staff member trip over themselves in the hallway. 

Ah, today is going to be so much fun. 

Before them, at the gates of the Zenin compound, is perhaps the most judgmental six-year-old in existence. Impassive green eyes—oh, how unsettling; Satoru wants to snort—staring up, up and up to where Satoru has Yuuji hefted up on his hip after the kid had tried to dash right into a little stream that flowed right into the courtyard. The kid’s nose wrinkles in something that is easily discerned as distaste when he notices the collar wrapped securely around Satoru’s throat and the leash held carefully—preciously, Satoru thinks with wry mirth—in Yuuji’s hand. 

“Woof,” greets Satoru, making sure his canines gleam in the sunlight. From his hip Yuuji beams, nearly dislodging himself with how hard he waves down at the other boy. 

With a look that borders disgust and a large helping of I-don’t-want-to-be-here Zenin—ah, perhaps that’s not right? The folder had mentioned a few dislikes—Megumi stares straight up at him and says, scathingly, “A pervert.” 

How rude.  

Something like annoyance shifts his grin into a scowl as he opens his mouth to retort that little brats shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but before he can Yuuji is tugging at his suit jacket in the universal sign to be put down—they had learned that if he jumped, he would bring Satoru down with him—which takes precedence. Though even after Satoru doesn’t get a word in because the kid bounds up to the far too sulky (seriously? Was he just used to the living, rambunctious ball of energy that is Yuuji? Were kids not constantly bouncing off the walls?) child and beams. 

“Hi! I like your hair!” Satoru coughs to hide his laugh. Sees the fight between jerking away to put space between them vs. wanting to soak in the very exuberant, bright attention in real time. Surprise, surprise, guess which one wins out.  

Notices the grip on the leash goes slack as Yuuji chatters a mile a minute. Always so exuberant. Even now, Satoru isn’t sure if it’s his actual personality or a consequence of not getting out that much. Either way, right now it’s a barrier to the two very important rules Satoru gave him, and that just won’t do. Not even for the potential new friend he might make today—because ah, isn’t it just charmingly, adorably, annoyingly sweet that the judgmental six-year-old (that called him a pervert!) is staring wide eyed, ears pink as Yuuji goes from calling him pretty to asking if they can race leaves down the stream in the same breath. 

Satoru would laugh if he felt like it. 

“Yuu-ji-kun~ “ he croons, slinking forward on silent steps. “Did you already forget? You’re supposed to look after me.” bends until he’s resting his chin on soft, pink hair. Leash swinging at the motion as Satoru smiles, an easy languid thing. “Someone could get hurt if you’re not careful.” 

“Oh, right!” Yuuji laughs, gripping onto it again. At Megumi’s disgruntled expression—terribly judgy. Satoru's little hobby of messing with Yuuji’s caretakers and creating his own fun is mostly harmless, really no need to judge him at all—Yuuji’s head tilts in confusion before he blinks and makes a little ‘o’ in understanding. 

As the only person to have the privilege of patting Satoru’s head, Yuuji does so before turning to Megumi with a very serious look on his face. “We’re playing a game. Satoru-san is a puppy!” 

“A dog, really.” 

“Do you want to play, too?” 

Ha. How unfortunate that Yuuji would offer such a thing so freely, so earnestly, even if Satoru should have expected it at some point. While he isn’t eager to bend to the whims of a child that called him a pervert—and is eyeing him like Satoru is some kind of creep. Perish the thought—this is going far better than he thought it would. Though… weren’t there supposed to be multiple brats today now that he thinks about it? 

“Satoru-san…” Wow. That’s an impressive amount of derision from such an impassive face. “Is not a dog.” 

“Ah, well, since little Yuuji-kun here is allergic to dogs, I offered to be one. Genius, don’t you think?” Satoru beams. 

“Weirdo.” 

Brat.

(A wonderful reminder why Satoru is not meant to interact with kids—they don’t get his sense of humor, can be terribly unimaginative with interacting with him or are intent on ruining any of the fun he makes for himself; he’s just having a little fun, really! He’s not even hurting anyone, honestly.) 

Megumi blinks up at him once, a slow, impassive gaze before dismissing him completely as he turns to Yuuji. “I can show you dogs later.” And Satoru wants to laugh. How could he have forgotten? “They can’t make you sick. They’re unique.”

One hand holding the loop, Yuuji’s free hand reaches freely for Megumi’s sleeve to hold on as the other boy leads them further into the courtyard. Megumi glances at it for just a moment before he continues walking. 

“Really?!” Yuuji asks, excitement nearly making him stumble. “How so?”

“They don't have fur. Or dandruff. Technically.” 

“Cool!”

Terrible. Little Yuuji has made a (potential) friend, and it’s a kid that looks at Satoru like he’s some kind of degenerate. It’s really a hit to his pride. Satoru takes great care in looking after his ward whether it’s indulging a small game of hide and seek in the far too quiet house or that time they played in the pond and weren’t supposed to— makes sure to scare off the very creepy, definitely a spy staff member of the household that greets them at the actual entrance to the Zenin family home. 

Satoru is very loyal, after all. (Has only bitten the hands of bastards and no good traditionalists.) It’s why his grin isn’t as sharp as it could be when little Megumi looks at him with impassive eyes and soft words when he says, “You should take that off before we meet any of the others. They’re terrible. They say terrible things.” As if Satoru has ever cared what insignificant people have to say. 

Pats Yuuji on the head once-twice when he looks up with an uncertain frown, before he grabs his hands. Says, “No. We’re not done playing yet.”

There are several brats, but besides Megumi—who has stayed staunchly near Yuuji and a little girl named Tsumiki by the balcony, carefully within Satoru’s view—there is only one that tries his patience like no other: Zenin Naoya. Supposedly the same age as Satoru himself and yet there is a very distinct desire to throw him through the shoji doors, scoop Yuuji up, and head home so they can eat ice cream before dinner. 

The others, aside from Tsumiki, servants by Zenin standards for simply being girls, are by the door, legs folded beneath them—annoyance bristling around one of them like a weapon and the other quietly resigned—quiet and polite. Satoru is so very tempted to start something to see the one snap like a corded piece of string. 

Something tells him it would be a wonderful affair. 

Naoya though… hmm. Satoru wishes he wasn’t treated like a babysitter when the young master uses his little brother as a friendship token; Satoru has gotten into more fights with children than he’d like to admit. Doesn’t mean he won’t do it again. And technically, this one isn’t a child. 

“He’s supposed to be the heir?” Naoya sneers, as if he doesn’t have a very punch-able face and isn’t within punching distance with just a flimsy, easily stepped over table, separating them.

“The one and only!” Satoru says gaily. Though how true that statement is, is up for debate, he thinks cheerily as he watches Yuuji stare in stupefied delight at a dog he can touch and pet and hug without breaking into hives. He’s quite sure that if anything, Yuuji is simply a contingency in case things with his brother go wrong. 

Ah, this world and its never ending squabble at all sides. Sorcerers and curses. Justice and injustice. Legal and illegal. Satoru taps a finger against the back of his hand— how funny it is that he, who was once heir to the Gojo family, has ended up as a tyke’s primary guard and caregiver; isn’t life strange? Especially so when he’s toyed with the idea that he’s quite sure his current employer is involved with very illegal things.

Hmm… well, that isn’t his concern. His ward is! 

“Ridiculous,” Naoya says, attempting to bore a hole in Satoru’s head with just his stare, and it’s getting on his nerves at a surprising speed, as if he isn’t a fly that Satoru wants to swat, but hasn’t yet because he has manners like a decent person. With patience that should surely earn him a reward, Satoru doesn’t so much as twitch. It’s a terrible thing to reward bad behavior. This is terrible behavior, if he’s ever encountered it. 

“And you, you’re supposed to be something special. The Gojo family legacy— reduced to a child’s bitch. What a disappointment.” 

Satoru glances at him out of the corner of his eye, irritation slowly trickling through him like a stream, slow and steady as it meets a dam. 

Ah. Well, now that’s two strikes. The dam is ever so close to cracking. Satoru wants to see him drown, limbs flailing and an apology on his lips because really, does he have no manners? Ahhh, big families are such a pain to play nice with when they pick at his patience with their nonsensical focus on only power and ‘the old ways are the right ways’ doesn’t it ever get boring? Acting so predictable all the time? Such stubbornness even with a foot halfway into the grave. 

There needs to be a little chaos! Something to shake things up! Satoru wants something to surprise him. Anything. 

Oh, how predictable. The little pain in the ass is still talking. Satoru tunes him out fully. Yuuji is currently convincing Megumi and little Tsumiki to do shadow puppets with him. 

He’s certainly a little something, as far as people Satoru likes can go. In all honesty Satoru had never meant to get attached, especially since this had all started as a little fun teenage rebellion after several unfortunate circumstances that led him to be hired in the first place, getting to mess with people had always been the original appeal. 

And yet, here he is! Best friends with a practical toddler and very okay with it. Life really works in strange ways— and Satoru's not all that interested in going back to his old expectations either. 

“It would make more sense to get rid of him now,” Naoya says, as if Satoru agreed with anything that came out of his mouth. “He’s pathetic. What does his family hope to achieve with something so useless.” 

Hah. (Oh well, would you look at that? No hand in the loop to keep him well behaved. What. A. Shame.) 

Within one moment and the next the room is delightfully silent of Naoya’s words and instead replaced with the creaking of a table that Satoru has ever so efficiently used to break the brat’s nose, startling the youngest members of the room as Satoru most certainly doesn’t try to shove his head through the tatami flooring beneath them both, nails digging into the skin of the heir’s skull. “Oh my, I hope you didn’t catch your tongue. It’d be such a shame if you couldn’t regale me with more of your beliefs. Unfortunately, it looks like our time has to come to an end. Fast, too— it was just getting interesting.” 

Ah well, he did warn Yuuji-kun to never let go of his leash. 

“Yuuji-kun,” calls Satoru, when he’s knocked the heir out. He’s incredibly pleased when Yuuji hurries to toddle over to him pudgy hands reaching for his, turning it this way and that, checking for something (adorable that he thinks Satoru has somehow gotten hurt in this situation. He’s far less pleased when he tries to check on the Zenin heir in the same way, mumbling a little is he okay and Satoru laughs it off with a wave of his hand. 

“Just a sudden nap Yuuji-kun— why don’t you say goodbye to your friends, hmm? Maybe we can have another playdate with just them next time.” 

That’s enough to distract him as he barrels back over to where the other two children are with a wide smile and excitement in his voice as he tries to do just that. Satoru wipes the bit of blood he got from digging in his nails with a napkin as he waits for Yuuji to come back, slipping a hand into his much larger one easily. 

“We’ll be taking our leave now,” says Satoru primly, casting a glance to the two girls still kneeled by the door. One of them looks pleased, the other reluctantly amused; they’ll have plenty of time to come up with a solution. 

“Thank you for having us!” says Yuuji, not at all noticing the Big Bad Satoru pulled. 

Satoru ruffles his hair. He’s pretty sure they’re going to be banned from the Zenin estate after this. Or have a raging, annoying cat on their doorstep. Maybe Satoru will be able to throw him through something?

That would be great. 

Satoru hefts the kid into his arms as they wait for the driver to come around a little after they dodge all Zenin staff on their way out. Yuuji’s hair is tickling at the underside of his chin with his wiggling. He’s keeping himself entertained by twisting the leash into random little shapes. Some of them look recognizable. Like the random shapes he gets Satoru’s attention for. Others, like the one Yuuji claims is a sideways snowman, are certainly childish imagination. Children are odd creatures, Satoru thinks, this one even more so. 

“Did you have fun today, Yuuji?” 

Yuuji’s head bobbles again, his spiky pink hair brushing at the skin of Satoru’s jaw, as he continues to twist the cord of cotton into little shapes, focused entirely on the little activity he’s come up with for himself. Cute. Even with just this to go off, Satoru’s pretty sure that on the drive home he’s going to end up with the brat slumped against his shoulder or his side asleep. 

For as much energy as Yuuji has, it's drained quickly when he’s brought out of the house. 

“That’s good. Did you like Megumi and Tsumiki?” 

When a gust of wind rushes through their hair and causes him to shiver, Satoru tucks him a little closer, uncaring of the way strands poke uncomfortably into his skin. They’ll probably have to go shopping again soon. Shorts and short sleeve shirts don’t usually mix well with the encroaching cold. Ah, that might have been why some of the staff gave them odd looks now that Satoru thinks about it. Ever since he started looking after the kid, he’d ended up purchasing less traditional clothing; less conspicuous for when they’d sneak out to let the brat play.

“Mm-mh! Do you think they’ll bring the dogs?” 

“I’m sure if you ask nicely,” Satoru advises with not a small amount of amusement, and while he says it cheerily, his train of thought however is firmly in direction of how much chaos he can convince those kids to cause since one looks like a good bout of rebellion would do him some good (and ever so possibly cement an actual friendship so that his brat will stop running up to random adults he thinks might be nice, that’s how you get kidnapped Yuuji), and every kid needs a chance to have at least a little fun in their lives. 

Speaking of fun, Satoru's lip quirks up as he thinks of something else. They deserve a treat for going through this rotten experience today. Maybe if they get home quick enough… 

“Hey, Yuuji-kun, how do you feel about ice cream before dinner?” Satoru asks, even as he starts planning out the perfect banana split to have when they get home. At the shining wide eyes and the little ice cream? Satoru laughs, tapping Yuuji’s nose. “It’ll be our little secret!” He says, offering a pinky. 

The car pulls up just a little after Yuuji has wound his own pinky tight. Just in time. Now they just have to get home as fast as possible. 

They don’t get ice cream. Or, no, that’s a lie. Yuuji doesn’t get any ice cream as he is far too busy taking up the space that is Satoru’s lap for a nap, hand curled up tight around his shirt and leash trapped beneath his body the moment Satoru had sat down, two bowls of ice-cream-magnificence in hand (which are now his for the taking because rule number one: you snooze you lose) as such Satoru being the wonderful, emphatic, and Totally Great Caregiver he is decided not to wake him up— napping is very important for growing children, after all. 

(And you know, now there’s two bowls of ice cream for him. But totally the reasonable adult thing, too.) 

Which is how long after he’s finished said sweet meal he still has the kid in his lap, freely using him like a personal pillow. Not a problem for the most part, besides the tingling in his legs from the added weight and inability to move, but Satoru will live. Yuuji will probably wake up soon and Satoru will go through the now nightly routine of making him clean up before bringing him down for dinner, before finally calling it a night officially. 

Well, that’s the plan at least before the doors to the room are sliding open and Satoru leans back against the wall bundling the kid higher up into his lap as he offers a simple, “Yo! You’re back early.” Fingers wiggling in a mockery of a wave as Satoru looks straight up into narrowed eyes and a mouth pressed into a thin line. 

Dressed as stuffily as always—whether it be a suit for ‘business meetings’ or dressed in a kimono at home—Sukuna’s gaze is steady and slow, a monstrous kind of tenderness (ah, but can a monster be tender?) as it tracks over Yuuji’s form, satisfied with finding nothing out of place before it trails up. Pauses. 

Satoru smiles, a glint of his teeth sharp and freely on display. Tilts his head to nose at Yuuji’s hair and blows a soft puff of air until he’s wiggling. Keeps his grip careful and steady when all it does is make the kid grumble and tuck into his shoulder. 

(What must it feel like to learn you’ve brought the wrong kind of dog home? One that is fed freely and easily, carving gaps where it can force itself to fit? How horribly ironic that it does exactly as you order (listen to one person) and disregards you for it later.) 

Watches the need for competency clash with the desire to get rid of anything that undermines him. Notes the deliberateness that Sukuna rolls his shoulders with before he relaxes and strides toward them once again unbothered. 

“Lighten up,” Satoru chirps. “It’s just a boy and his dog cuddling! No need to look so dour all the time.” 

Removes his hands palms on display as Sukuna crouches in front of them, fingers curling into the fabric of Yuuji’s hoodie to heft him up and away. “Brat,” he drawls, standing in one fluid movement turning away from Satoru with steady steps, Yuuji yawning, bleary-eyed at the movement. “I already told you we will not keep strays any longer than necessary.” Satoru wants to laugh. 

Doesn’t so much as twitch—or acknowledge Satoru in any way—as Satoru prowls after them, giving Yuuji a little wave as he ducks under Sukuna’s arm. Not much else he can do except keep up since Yuuji is holding his leash in a death grip! How terrible of Sukuna to break up a boy and his pet so callously. No respect for their games. 

It’s all harmless fun. Satoru is just bringing a bit of life into these long, empty halls. What better way to do that than engaging the kid’s imagination? 

(To be a good caregiver means being amazing at multiple things; not just mauling anyone that looks at his brat wrong.) 

“I see you’ve failed even the most basic of your duties,” says Sukuna as his first acknowledgement. “How difficult is it, really, to look after a child?” Satoru sticks his tongue out at him, grinning when he notices that even in his sleep rumpled state, Yuuji has giggled at his antics. See? Laughter! The kid had barely ever had any fun before him. 

“As if! I’ve done everything asked of me perfectly.” Satoru croons, ignoring the scathing, intensely displeased pressure, directed his way with practiced ease. “We had fun today, didn't we, Yuu-ji~ Made a couple of friends even.” 

With irritation (not anger, not rage, pure irritation) set in the lines of Sukuna’s face, Satoru smiles, posture almost lazy as he keeps pace with him. Tilts his head, innocuous and careful as he leans into his space. Bares his teeth in a mockery of a grin. “I’ve done a far better job than you in the short time I’ve been around. Maybe you’d like some tips?” 

Sukuna sets Yuuji on his feet, fingers uncurling slowly from his hood, nails avoiding skin. Doesn’t twitch when fingers curl around his own. Sukuna is so utterly predictable. So big! So scary! (As if.) Satoru is all too irreplaceable. 

“As if I’d ever take advice from someone that can’t keep himself clean,” says Sukuna, leading Yuuji down the long, winding halls. Says to Yuuji, “You should teach your pets better manners. You know I dislike impudence. I will put it down, boy.” 

Perhaps, if the words were directed at anyone else, the weight of them would hold true. Taken as the threat, they’re meant to be over the addition of someone into their game that Yuuji misconstrues it as. Ah, to be a child. Unaware of the cruelty of the world, of the unfairness so many people face, blissfully unseeing of the blood that trails up, up, and up both your caregivers’ limbs. 

It doesn’t mean that Yuuji is completely unaware, though, because he notices the items causing some of Sukuna’s ire. “I’m sorry onii-sama,” he says, offering the leash. “We were just playing. Here you can have a turn.” 

It isn’t the right conclusion—wouldn’t be in a million years. Sukuna does not play as far as Satoru understands—but what other conclusion would a child come up with? Let alone a child like this one. Sukuna glances down at him, mouth curling into a mockery of a smile, like he’s thought of something amusing. His fingers curl around the loop. 

“You’re filthy,” he says to Yuuji. “Go and clean up. You can at least do that on your own.” 

Yuuji, head bobbing, hurries off on his own unconcerned with the dismal as Satoru stands still, leather uncomfortably digging into his neck as Sukuna twists more and more of it is around his hand. Satoru grins. 

Such a temper. The young master should really think about taking some anger management classes. 

“Who would’ve thought you’d like to play?” Satoru chirps out. “All you have to do is ask—” 

Feels the yank of the cord before he does the hand, tight and unrelenting at his throat as Satoru laughs. Typical. Ruffle even just a few feathers and it’s this song and dance again. What’s a little death when you’ll undoubtedly be brought back? Though… hmm. Yuuji is just down the hall. Sure, he’ll be brought back, but how quickly? Before the kid comes back? After? Ah, too many variables to care about. Fighting makes him terribly upset, after all. 

Satoru sticks his tongue out. Wiggles his fingers in a goodbye.

Finds himself in the hall next to the bathroom grinning wide as Yuuji blinks up at him stepping out. “All done playing!” he says cheerily, falling into a crouch in front of him. “And since it’s getting so late, I think it’s time we stop, too.” Lifts his chin. “A little help?” 

The collar comes off with a little click and Satoru tucks it and the leash back into his pockets as he pats Yuuji on the head. Except as he rises to stand to call it a day—and will absolutely avoid joining for dinner tonight—he gets rushed at with a hug that slams into him hard enough he falls onto the floor. 

With a huff, Satoru pats him again. “Oh come on now, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” 

“Still, thank you, Satoru-san. You always come up with the silliest things!” 

Ah, what can he say? He takes his job very seriously.