Chapter Text
They’re living in an apartment that Satoru set them up in around three months ago: some 25th-floor, 4-bed, 4-bath, sparkling white luxury suite in the center of Shinjuku that makes them feel like they’ve entered another universe when they step into it for the first time. It’s close enough to their elementary school that they can walk, but too far for them to make it home in time for their favorite cartoon unless they sprint, something that Satoru knows vexes Megumi more than he cares to admit.
He’s thankful for it, though. At their old apartment, the curses had been a never-ending source of anxiety—he’d see them peering out from dimly-lit alleyways, leering at him in the corners of his vision, but whenever he turned around, he’d find nothing but empty air. In the time between Tsumiki’s mom leaving, and the annoyance that is Satoru showing up, paranoia had become a close friend.
The only reason they’re walking though, is because in spite of their guardian’s immense amount of dismay about it, Satoru is gone more often than not. He’s a busy guy, and he doesn’t have time to drive them around every morning and afternoon, and in fact, he’s usually not even there when they wake up to get ready.
He has his own school, and his own job—though by now, he spends so much more time working for the higher-ups than actually in a classroom that he feels like he may as well have already graduated. He’s in the middle of his fourth year; he adopted the kids most of the way through his third, almost immediately after Suguru left. He needed something to fill the hole.
He misses Suguru so fucking much. He misses being part of a matching set; all of the eyes were still on him back then, but at least he didn’t feel so alone all the time. Now Shoko secludes herself in her dorm room, studying to get into medical school so she can get the fuck out of the Jujutsu world, and Nanami’s retreated into himself since Haibara died, about a year ago now.
He definitely doesn’t want to hang out with Utahime. He’s sure she feels the same.
So that just leaves his kids—oh, his kids. Tsumiki is such an angel, taking care of herself and her brother when Satoru is away. He’s hired staff to clean every weekend, and a cook that comes to make them dinner and the next day’s lunch, but Tsumiki says that she still prefers to do it herself sometimes. Says it’s “calming” or whatever. Satoru thinks it’s disturbing for a little kid to like cooking so much, but if it brings her comfort, he’ll allow her to do whatever she wants.
He just wishes he could be there more often to support them. Such is the way of the job, though, and if Megumi chooses the path of Jujutsu, he’ll eventually be forced into the same stupid fucking routine Satoru is.
It’s important to him that the kid gets a choice in his future. If those old Zenin geezers try to force him into sorcery, he’ll just do the world a favor and kill them all.
Easy.
He gets home late that night; he had been gone longer than he wanted, being called on to take job after job after job scattered across the US. His short-range warping was called so for a reason—it only works to a certain distance. If he could warp anywhere he wanted, he would be home every single night, to buy his kids takeout and tuck them into bed with a bedtime story and check under the bed for any monsters or curses that may have evaded his all-seeing eyes.
From where he’s standing in the front entryway, he can feel Megumi in his bed, fast asleep and apparently extremely unconcerned with Satoru’s long absence. Tsumiki’s bed is notably empty, however, and her small figure lies wrapped in a blanket on the couch instead.
Her head is resting on one of the pillows he had bought to match the couch that is the centerpiece of the apartment. It’s so horrifically ugly, any time he has people over they spend at least a few minutes just staring at the thing silently, waiting for him to explain what the hell it’s doing there.
He had taken the kids furniture shopping when he first bought the apartment; nothing from their old place was salvageable, and he figured it might make them happy to run around the store, maybe jump on the beds. Something his clan had never allowed him to even think of doing.
Though Megumi marched ahead like he couldn’t care less about what decisions were made regarding the apartment that he lived in, Tsumiki had seemed timid as she wandered the store, staring openly at the myriad of furniture.
“Tsu-chan, do you wanna go pick a few options that you like?” Satoru asked her, crouching down to her level.
She remained quiet for a moment, contemplative, as she glanced around at the various items.
“...Everything here is so expensive…” she stated quietly, causing Satoru’s eyes to widen behind his glasses.
“Eh? What’re you worryin’ about price for? I said you could pick whatever you want, and I meant it. I’m the one payin’, so go crazy, OK?” He smiled and looked at her over the dark shades before standing to his full height once again, causing her to crane her neck to look up at him. The girl didn’t seem convinced, searching his face for any sign of a lie or one of the jokes that he so often liked to play on them, but she found none—just his rare, sincere smile directed at her.
She looked over to Megumi. He was standing in his default state of glaring at Satoru, but it seemed less harsh than usual, and his eyes kept wandering to the massive selection of couches and various coffee tables they were surrounded by.
“Both of you!” he added. “Go crazy, go wild! If you wanna get some batshit insane, neon pink, O-shaped couch, I’m all for that! This is your apartment, so I want you to like it!” He grinned and cast a look down at Tsumiki.
She hesitantly smiled back up at him and finally started to look at the furniture store more seriously, eyes catching on the brightly colored items, clearly aimed towards children or particularly eccentric adults.
It reminded him she’s still just a little kid, barely even 7. It concerned him that she was already stressed about money so young, but he figured a few weeks or months of living with him would make that anxiety disappear.
He had complete control of an entire clan’s fortune, after all.
She let go of his hand to wander over to probably one of the ugliest couches he had ever seen--it was massively wide, and was a disgusting mix of neon pink and sunny yellow, patterned in what was likely supposed to look vaguely floral. It was clearly something designed to appeal to kids.
He loved it immediately.
He saw Tsumiki glance up at him after sneaking a quick look at the price tag, frown blossoming on her face at whatever she saw. Her body turned like she was going to walk away from it, but before she could he closed the space between them in a few long strides and held his head up to look for an employee.
“This is a great choice!” he exclaimed, catching the eye of a middle-aged worker across a few rows of sofas. He lifted one hand slightly in the air to call the man over and rested the other on top of Tsumiki’s head, ruffling her hair slightly.
He sensed Megumi outside of his peripheral vision—he was no longer sulking around the store, and had instead begun to look at the assorted furniture for himself. Similarly to Tsumiki, he could feel that Megumi was looking at the price tags on the various pieces, but unlike her, was simply trying to find the most expensive one in the store in order to force Satoru to buy it.
The employee made his way over, seeming a little nervous as he approached and saw what the pair had selected.
“I’d like to buy this, okay?” Satoru said, smiling widely at the man’s unsure demeanor.
“That- Yes, that’s fine. Very good selection,” he said, glancing at Tsumiki and then back at Satoru, who was smiling a little wider now.
“Ah, and also whatever your most expensive sofa is; I'd also like to buy that.”
Tsumiki gaped up at him, shock evident in her large eyes.
“Wh- Why!?” she exclaimed, grabbing Satoru by the arm that was still resting on the top of her head. “Why would you do that!? A cheaper sofa would work just as well, right?”
Satoru let out a loud laugh and shooed the man away slightly, silently pushing him to do his job and check them out. He scooped the shell-shocked Tsumiki up in his arms and made his way to where Megumi was still checking the prices of various pieces of furniture—he had found his way over to the dressers at this point.
“Kid, ready to leave? We chose the couch, and the rest I’ll probably just have a decorator buy for me or something.”
Tsumiki, who still seemed a little unsure of the decision, squirmed in his arms for a moment before he set her down back on the floor.
“I didn’t even get to pick anything, though!” Megumi objected, glaring up at Satoru through angry eyes, shadows warping slightly around his feet as his cursed technique tried to activate on its own. He’d probably have to start training pretty soon if a simple outburst was causing it to flare up.
Satoru laughed at the kid and turned around, heading towards the desk where the worker was waiting for them to walk over and check out. Megumi hesitated for a second before giving up and rushing over to catch up, not wanting to be left behind in the large store.
He stopped at the counter and pulled out his wallet, watching as what looked like other employees emerged from the back store room with two large boxes on dollies, side eyeing him to see who it was that would buy such egregious and expensive pieces of furniture. Satoru grinned at them, causing the two men to glance down, embarrassed that they’d been staring so unabashedly at a customer.
“Is this price… okay, sir?” the worker asked him, unsure.
He didn’t even glance at the price, simply grabbing his card, the plain matte black catching the eye of the nervous man. He seemed to straighten his posture slightly as realization flooded his face, and a twinkle entered his eye.
“Ah! Before you check out, would you like me to add on the premium protection plan? It’s only 180,000 yen!”
“Sounds great!” Satoru enthused back, glad the man had broken from his anxious stupor and was starting to do his job. “While you’re at it, throw in a couple ottomans, hm? Need somewhere to rest my feet after a long day of taking care of these hoodlums!” Satoru grabbed Megumi’s head from where he was standing still next to him and gave the boy a slightly too-harsh shake, receiving several angry smacks against his hand in retaliation.
As the man happily tapped at the keyboard, Satoru could practically see dollar signs floating through his eyes. These kinds of workers always got paid on commission, he knew. Why not make the poor guy’s day?
He could feel Megumi and Tsumiki growing bored next to him as the man took far too long to enter a few things into the machine, anxiously shuffling their feet. Tsumiki leaned her body weight against him and let out a long sigh, and Satoru laughed silently to himself, swiping the black card, finally taking a look at the price. Less than he expected, though likely one of the largest two-item purchases the employee had ever seen in his life.
Tsumiki looked up from her position against him and glanced at the price, and a loud gasp left her mouth. “10 million!?” she nearly yelled, straightening so fast that her half-asleep brother startled and fell backwards on the floor, shocking him awake.
Satoru playfully covered her eyes, grinning wide and laughing, spinning them around to face away from the till.
“Tsumiki-chan! I thought I told you not to worry about the price, hm?” He laughed, picking her up once again and settling her against his hip, eyes still loosely covered. She seemed to be in too much shock to even bother trying to uncover them, and poor Megumi on the ground still appeared lost in a haze of sleep-riddled confusion.
Satoru looked over once again to see that the multitude of boxes they had assembled for him to take were ready on their dollies next to the till, and frowned as he realized how many there actually were.
He caught the employee's eye once more. “Is there any way you could send someone along to assemble these for us?” he asked, shooting his sweetest smile.
“Yes, I’d be happy to, sir!” the middle aged man stated, gesturing to one of the young men who had previously been staring at him.
The man nodded, addressing Satoru with one simple statement: “I’ll need your address.”