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It was dentist day.
The place was spacious, comfortable and immaculately clean. Too clean, far too clean. The walls were white, with small mint-green tiles at the bottom trying to soften the monochromatic atmosphere. Adding to the decor were small posters about topics such as maintaining good dental hygiene, the different types of orthodontics, and, according to Satoru, the worst one: the average age at which humans become prone to losing their teeth and the various treatments available for it. Inspiring.
It was hell.
Satoru had never been to the dentist, knowing only what it was like from the occasional comments of other clan members when he was a child and from Shoko’s constant complaints during heir endless nights of studying as she pursued her path to becoming a doctor: "What’s the point of knowing the different types of teeth and nerves if I’m just going to be stuck in a morgue examining bodies?" But beyond that, his experience with any other type of healthcare professional was nonexistent.
Gojo had never been to the dentist, never been to the doctor, and if he had continued on his own path, he probably never would have. After all, he is the strongest.
But now he has kids. And among the many surprises that parenthood has brought him, realizing he has to take his children for a check-up every six months—even when they show no signs of discomfort—is one of them.
"Can I ask you to pick up Mimiko from school tomorrow?" Geto had said as he finished putting the dishes away in the cabinet.
Satoru, who was secretly sneaking sweets into his kids’ little lunch boxes behind his partner’s back, turned to look at him, confused. "Yeah, sure, no problem, but why you can´t?"
Although both Suguru and Satoru had been in a relationship for quite some time, neither had made it official until about a year ago, with the kids being the main reason for this decision. The two adults realized their repertoire of excuses for coming home late or spending nights at places other than their respective homes was rapidly running out, and the growing distrust from their little ones was becoming increasingly evident. It only took a small pout from Tsumiki and a frowning, arms-crossed Megumi when the white-haired man mentioned he’d be staying somewhere else that night for Satoru to cancel all his plans and call Suguru to put an end to that nonsense.
It turned out the black-haired man was dealing with a similar situation, with Gojo listening to the twins crying over the phone while Suguru assured him they would talk about it the next day.
A week later, Megumi and Tsumiki met Suguru in private. The encounter earned Suguru a warm hug from Tsumiki and a resentful glare from little Megumi, who, to Satoru’s surprise and amusement, stayed in his arms the entire time, showing no apparent interest in moving. Satoru had embraced the unusual display of affection—and jealousy—with open arms, laughing at his partner when, after the brief “meeting,” Suguru pointed it out.
"Suguru~ don’t be jealous of my little blessing; it’s just an innocent and childish reaction," he teased dismissively.
However, when a week later Satoru walked into his partner's apartment and was greeted by a kick to the knee from Nanako and Mimiko crying to Suguru, begging that "the odd-looking man" leave, it was Geto’s turn to laugh and assure Satoru that it was nothing more than an innocent and childish reaction.
"I have to take Nana to the dentist, and the only appointment I could get is during that time, so I won’t be able to pick her up," the curse eater user mentioned casually, as if Satoru weren’t staring at him with an utterly bewildered expression.
"B-But, is Nanako in pain or something? Why didn’t she say anything before?" He started rambling, confused and even a little hurt that the little girl wouldn’t trust him with something as important as that. "Is there something we can do? Today she ate normally, but—"
"Toru, darling," Suguru was quick to calm him, caressing one of his cheeks with his thumb, making the older stop and look at him. "It’s okay, it’s just a routine check-up. Nothing to worry about."Faced with Satoru’s still-confused expression, the black-haired one tried again. "Like the ones adults have? You know, to prevent cavities and all that." Still nothing—just the same confused look from the best and strongest sorcerer in the world.
Suguru took a step back, perplexed. There was no way. "Satoru, have you ever gone to the dentist?"
No, he hadn’t. And as it turns out, neither had the Fushiguro siblings. The surprises of parenthood.
So there they were, waiting. The first to go in would be Megumi, much to the dismay of both the boy and his guardian. Don’t get him wrong, Satoru loves his little blessing, the light of his heart. But that little sea urchin was a brat, a tiny demon. And if it was already difficult to get Megumi to cooperate in everyday life, it was even harder in an unfamiliar territory and worse still, a territory unfamiliar to Gojo as well. Both were at the mercy of whatever lay behind the door through which a patient had entered about fifteen minutes ago.
Which was reason enough to drag Tsumiki along, even though her appointment wasn’t for another two weeks.
Both children sat beside him, Tsumiki reading a small princess book that Gojo had bought her about a month ago, and Megumi swinging his legs in the air, frowning anxiously and fidgeting with his hands. The white-haired man had encouraged him to play in the small children’s area in the reception, which was stocked with puzzles, Legos, and other toys to keep kids entertained. Megumi had looked at him as if Gojo thought he was five.
He is six. Six and a half.
"It’s not that bad," Tsumiki said after noticing that the patient who had gone into the office earlier was now walking out, touching his face with discomfort. Her brother had let out a small, scared noise. "One of my classmates went recently and said they just check your teeth and clean them. It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes."
"But I brush my teeth every day! I don’t need someone else to do it for me. It’s stupid," Megumi retorted
"They have to check if you have cavities, silly," Tsumiki declared, as if it were obvious, completely ignoring the now pale faces of the adult and child beside her. "If you do, they have to drill into the tooth, and if it’s very deep, they have to touch the nerves, which—"
“Miki, darling, the angel of my life," Gojo softly interrupted when he noticed her brother’s now-rapid breathing. "Why don’t you put your book back in your backpack? I think we’ll be next to go in."
After a quick glance at her brother, the younger girl offered an apologetic look and set about doing as she was told.
"I don’t wanna go," Gojo turned to the little boy, only to find frightened eyes on the verge of tears. He could practically feel his heart breaking into pieces. "Toru, please, I don’t wanna go inside."
The older man stood from his seat and knelt in front of the small, wide-eyed boy staring at him in fear. Gojo took Megumi’s hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. "It’s alright, Gumi. Everything’s going to be okay; you don’t have to worry."
But the boy still looked at him with a mix of fear and resentment. Gojo had to summon every ounce of restraint not to pull him into the hug he so badly wanted to give. His Megumi, so independent, mature, and grumpy, was scared of the dentist. It reminded Gojo that, after all, he was still just a child. His little kid. The feeling was bittersweet. "The doctor will check your teeth, see that everything’s fine, and then we’ll go get that ginger ice cream you like. How about that?"
"What if I have cavities?"
The white-haired one smiled, the same grin that usually earned an annoyed look from the youngest Fushiguro. Today, however, it only earned another smile in response. "You don’t, and you won’t have cavities. Neither you nor your sister."
"How do you know?"
"Because you’re my children!" At that, Tsumiki laughed, and Megumi just rolled his eyes. Now that was a good sign. "The children of the strongest sorcerer don’t get cavities!"
Just as Gojo was about to coax a smile out of the green-eyed boy, the office door opened again, startling the trio.
"Fushiguro Megumi, you’re next," called the doctor.
"In a second, doc!" the older exclaimed, receiving a nod and a smile from the dentist as he stood, ignoring the ache in his knees. The children followed suit. "Are we ready?"
Tsumiki nodded, heading toward the office door. However, Megumi reached for Satoru's hand, catching him off guard. He glanced at the door and then back at the white-haired sorcerer, who smiled down at him. With a pout, Megumi let go of his hand and stretched his arms out toward him, silently asking to be carried.
Gojo could feel his heart melting in his chest.
With Megumi perched on his hip, the boy quickly wrapped his arms around Gojo’s neck, hiding his face in his shoulder. Pout still firmly in place. Gojo pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead to catch his attention. "Hey, I’m right here, okay, darling? You’re safe."
And with that, the two joined Tsumiki, who was waiting for them with a smile.
The nightmare was just beginning.
The room was white—excessively white. Even with his eyes covered, Satoru felt overwhelmed. Having his little one in his arms, refusing to lift his head from the space between Gojo's neck and shoulder, didn’t help either. These two factors, combined with being in completely uncharted territory for the sorcerer, left Gojo turning his Infinity off and on, trying to protect both Megumi and Tsumiki from any potential danger posed by the doctor in front of them—even if there was none at all. His Six Eyes remained active, scanning every inch of the small room. Later migraines be damned.
"Hello, family! I’m Doctor Haruto, a pleasure to meet you," the doctor greeted, shaking Gojo’s free hand and earning a small, smiling wave from Tsumiki. Megumi didn’t acknowledge him at all. The doctor simply gave the family an understanding smile. "Well, let’s begin."
The start was easy enough. Haruto invited them to sit in front of the small desk in the room, with Tsumiki by his side and Megumi still clinging to his neck. First came the family information—thankfully, the doctor didn’t address the difference in last names between the children and their guardian. Then came questions about Megumi’s dental hygiene: how many times he brushed his teeth, how long he brushed for, if he ate many sweets, and so on. The process was calm and steady enough that Megumi eventually peeked out of his hiding spot and managed to answer in more than monosyllables. Gojo relaxed, almost forgetting they were in what most children considered a nightmare.
Almost.
"Alright, Megumi, I’m going to ask you to sit in that chair over there so we can start your check-up," Haruto instructed, pointing to the dental chair in the middle of the room as he pulled on his gloves and moved toward the chair.
Megumi tapped Satoru’s leg, signaling him to put him down, and made his way to where the doctor was waiting. He tried to look calm—even unfazed—but Gojo could see the boy’s nerves from a mile away. Apparently, Tsumiki could sense his tension too; she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Oh, the angel of a daughter he had.
Once Megumi was reclined in the chair, and it had been adjusted to the right height, Haruto positioned the large light over Megumi’s face, aimed at his mouth. The sight alone made Gojo shudder where he stood.
"Are you comfortable?" the doctor asked. Megumi simply nodded. Satisfied, Haruto picked up a small mirror. "Alright, open your mouth, please. As wide as you can."
Megumi obeyed, and from his spot, the white-haired man could see the boy’s tiny hands clenched into fists, as nervous as could be but holding steady. The doctor began inspecting the lower teeth with the small mirror, nodding to himself with a completely serious expression—a stark contrast to the cheerful smile he’d shown earlier.
Satoru felt like he was about to faint, holding on only because of the firm squeeze Tsumiki was giving his hand, nearly cutting off circulation. Apparently, Satoru wasn’t the only one nervous about Megumi’s dental health.
After a few minutes, the doctor set the mirror aside and instructed Megumi to close his mouth and rest for a moment. He pulled down his mask and smiled at them. "So far, no signs of cavities. We just need to check the upper teeth, and if everything looks good, we’ll proceed with the cleaning."
The whole family exhaled in relief—simultaneously—drawing a chuckle from the doctor.
"I should also congratulate you, Megumi. So far, your teeth are impeccable," Haruto said with a grin.
Oh yeah, feed his ego.
While Gojo was thinking about how the little brat would have yet another thing to brag about, the doctor’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Megumi, open your mouth please, don't close it while the mirror is still in it” Satoru frowned, something was off. And suddenly, he remembered the talk he had with his partner earlier that morning.
"Bring their ID, a toothbrush..." the dark-haired sorcerer began listing, earning an incredulous look from the taller man.
"A toothbrush? Seriously?"
Suguru shrugged. "Trust me, sometimes they ask for it." As he finished packing the kids’ lunches into their respective backpacks, he turned back to the older man. "Oh, also pack a change of clothes and some baby wipes."
Now Satoru was genuinely confused. "Clothes and baby wipes? Why would they need that?" Suguru just looked at him with the eyes of someone who had endured the worst possible trauma. Gojo quickly understood. "Oh, please, no..."
"Megumi, I won't repeat it again—don't close your mouth."
"But it makes me nauseous," Megumi responded, clearly nervous.
"Hey, what's going on?" Gojo asked, trying to sound calm but failing as his voice came out deeper than usual.
Setting the mirror down on the small tray attached to the chair, the dentist pulled down his mask to explain the situation. Any trace of the kind, patient doctor was gone from his expression. "Your son keeps closing his mouth every time I try to check his upper molars."
"It makes me nauseous," Megumi pouted, and both Tsumiki and Gojo glared at the dentist with pure irritation.
However, understanding he was the adult in the situation (kind of), the sorcerer tried to reach a solution. "Is there another method we could try? Maybe something to help with his nausea?"
The dentist raised an eyebrow, his displeasure evident. Gojo clenched his fists. "The only solution is for your son to open his mouth and let me do my job," Haruto replied with exasperation. The white-haired man gritted his teeth. "Please, I treat kids younger than him, and none of them throw these tantrums."
"I don't care. You're not dealing with any of those kids—you’re dealing with my son, and he's scared."
"Then you need to calm him down. If he can’t handle the exam, he certainly won’t handle the cleaning."
Gojo took a deep breath, trying to stay as calm as possible so as not to scare his children further. He thought about how easy it would be to just scoop up Megumi and Tsumiki, leave the place, and spend the rest of the day together, happy and unharmed. But he also thought about Suguru’s impending reprimand. And if that wasn’t enough to convince him to stay, the knowledge that neglecting Megumi’s dental health now could cause bigger issues down the line sealed the deal.
With a sigh, Gojo approached Megumi, crouching to his level. His little boy was pale, his wide eyes darting nervously, and his legs swinging restlessly. Satoru tried a reassuring smile. It wasn’t enough.
"Dad, I wanna go home," Megumi pouted, and if Satoru weren’t the strongest man alive, he would have caved immediately. Fortunately, he was the strongest.
"I know, Gumi, but we have to make sure everything’s okay with your teeth." Megumi looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, and Gojo nearly surrendered. "You won’t throw up. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you’ll be fine."
Megumi huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Satoru felt a chill of panic. Oh no, please, not a tantrum. "How would you know? You’ve never been to the dentist."
Gojo inhaled deeply, knowing that if he fed into the boy’s argument, they’d be out the door in less than ten minutes. That little brat. "No, I haven’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is still an easy thing to do, Megumi."
"You don’t even know how it feels!"
"Megumi..."
"No! You don’t know what it feels like, so you can’t say anything!"
And just like that, they had entered full tantrum territory. It was a losing battle.
At first, it hadn't been easy for Gojo to handle. The white-haired man was fully aware of his “unique” personality, knowing for certain that, as Suguru always says, “It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.” He also knew that his personality wasn't the most suitable for raising not one, but two children. However, that had never been an obstacle for him in trying to give the kids all the love and affection that his body and soul could provide (an infinite source of love). But when he found himself in a situation like this, when one of his kids crossed their arms and looked at him with those eyes, that insecurity would fall on him like a dead weight.
Tsumiki almost never threw tantrums. Satoru was absolutely sure that he could count those occasions on one hand and still have fingers left over. His little girl was an angel, a ray of light, his golden child. The man with blue eyes had never been a fan of this term, claiming that it was a way of demeaning other children who didn’t meet such unrealistic standards. But after Tsumiki’s arrival, Satoru knew he couldn’t be a hypocrite. His daughter was a golden child, the brightest of them all.
Her brother, on the other hand, was a little demon.
Megumi was a very reserved person, serious—extremely serious for a six-year-old (six and a half). The sorcerer had thought that this trait would dissolve over time, at least until the little one became a bit more trusting. To his surprise, that trait seemed to persist with every passing day, even though Megumi had gained much more confidence than in the early days. Megumi admitting he was scared and asking to be held? Both Gojo and Megumi would have laughed if that situation had been proposed to them a year ago.
But all the seriousness seemed to disappear from that little body when it came to a tantrum.
Don’t get it wrong, Megumi wasn't and isn’t a child who throws tantrums over anything. He was even the one who would criticize his schoolmates when they did. The little sea urchin is mature enough to make his wishes understood without needing to scream or cry as if he was dying. When you add an indulgent and spoiling guardian like Gojo to the mix, Megumi doesn’t even have a reason to resort to a tantrum. Except on days like these, when the little black-haired one shows that, despite his almost permanent frown and his seriousness, he’s still a little kid. And little kids throw tantrums. And a little kid with Toji Zenin’s genes and Gojo Satoru’s upbringing does so with even more fervor.
Gojo watches the little one, stressed, his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose. He knows he can’t leave the small office; he also knows that forcing the little one into the treatment isn’t an option (Satoru knows Megumi won’t hesitate for a second to unleash his dogs on him, and if that weren’t enough, it’s highly likely that even Tsumiki would join in). Added to this is the fact that he can’t contradict the youngest, because as irritable as he is, his argument is valid and completely true. With this in mind, and as his thoughts click into place, he decides to go with this last option.
“You’re right, I’ve never been to the dentist and I don’t know what it feels like.” The sorcerer admits, and Megumi smiles as if he had won the battle, almost getting down from the chair if it weren’t for the mischievous grin of the older man. “Soo~ to show you it’s no big deal, I’ll do the same checkup as you!.” The little one’s eyes widened in surprise, and the blue - eyed one could swear he saw Tsumiki’s head tilt in confusion. “With a great reward for you, of course,” the white-haired one clarifies, already sensing the dentist’s upcoming complaint.
The great Satoru Gojo, the strongest, negotiating with a six-year-old.
Six and a half.
—
A few minutes later, it is now Satoru who finds himself sitting in the dental chair, with a small piece of paper hanging on his chest, and two little kids beside him, watching him as if they were witnessing a high-complexity surgery. Clear concern on their faces. Well, at least on Tsumiki’s; Gojo can affirm the little demon is smiling.
When Gojo is about to make an ironic comment about it, the light attached to the chair focuses on his face, and Gojo can confirm that a countless number of knife stabs to his face would hurt less. Even though his eyes are covered, they burn as if they were in front of the sun itself, his whole head throbs similarly to the beginning of a migraine, and no matter how much he tries, he can’t prevent the small complaint that escapes his lips from the harmful stimulus.
I love my children, I love my children.
Suddenly, Gojo feels a small hand gently pressing against his face, specifically on his blindfolded eyes. It’s Megumi’s hand. “Sorry, but could you turn off the light? He has very sensitive eyes, the exposure to light causes him migraines.”
Oh, Gojo loves his children with all his heart.
“I can’t turn it off, but how about we cover his eyes a little more, okay?” At the lack of response from the kids, Gojo assumes they both nod. Megumi still hasn’t removed his hand from his face, with Tsumiki holding his free hand. The oldest one doesn’t take long to give her a little squeeze, smiling from ear to ear.
Once his eyes are even more covered, Megumi pulls his hand away. However, before he completely removes it, Gojo grabs it and gives it a small kiss, still smiling. He knows Megumi isn’t mad when the little one doesn’t complain and, on the contrary, takes his arm with his little hands. God, Gojo adores them.
“Alright, Mr. Gojo, we’ll start with the check-up,” the dentist says, pulling him out of his little bubble. Gojo just nods, giving everyone in the room a big smile before opening his mouth. “Now you’ll see, Megumi, that the check-up is simple; there’s nothing to be scared of.” And so, the professional begins the check-up, and the white-haired man is naïve enough to believe him.
Megumi is right, it’s horrible.
The dentist starts with the upper molars, unlike how he started with the younger child, and Gojo tries his best not to gag when he feels the small dental mirror practically touch his tonsils. He only thinks of what his partner would say if this experience reached his ears (“You take bigger things down your throat every week and I don’t see you gagging. Or complaining about it”).
“You see, Megumi, it’s impossible for you to gag, I’m barely getting in with the mirror,” the dentist says, and Gojo hates him.
Your wife must hate you, that’s the first thing he thinks.
After a few seconds that feel endless, the dentist moves on to the lower molars, where the nausea decreases. Gojo feels his body relax, realizing that the experience is almost done.
It wasn’t that bad.
“Oh, what’s this?”
It’s very bad.
His eyes widen in panic, his breathing quickening with every second the dentist doesn’t say anything, just probing with the mirror in his molars. Gojo feels his body turn cold, his limbs numb as if he’s about to faint. And it takes everything in him not to activate his Infinity, grab his kids, and flee from that clinic. He feels the rapid beating of his heart with every passing second, the truth of the matter weighing down on him.
It can’t be, it just can’t be. Not him. Not the strongest.
“Mr. Gojo, you have a cavity.”
And Gojo faints, not before activating his Infinity that sends the dentist flying to the other side of the office, with Megumi releasing his dogs in reaction to the outburst.
Tsumiki is the one who takes on the adult role and calls Geto.
—
A week later, in another reception, now with blue walls, four children and two adults—sorry, five children and one adult—are waiting to be called. And if Gojo throws a tantrum of worse dimensions than the one Megumi had, that’s something only his family should know.
And if, once seated in the office, the elder faints again due to the sound of the drill, that’s something Megumi diligently records on video. For future negotiations...
And if Gojo uses his “dental intervention” as an excuse to be even more spoiled and misbehaved than usual, that’s something Geto takes care of dealing with.