Chapter Text
It was a well-known fact that Gojo Satoru only did the things he wanted to do. In no world would the Six Eyes commit to tasks he saw no merit in doing himself. If it was a task that could be done by someone else— it would be done by someone else. If it was something that required his very particular skill set, then see to it being completed with nothing short of perfection. Gojo Satoru didn’t start things that he didn’t plan to finish, nor did he do them half-assed.
So, from an outside point of view…it was a little odd that out of all the things Gojo Satoru— inheritor of both the Six Eyes and Limitless Technique, most good-looking, the Strongest™, perfection incarnate— has decided to accomplish next, involved two young children.
It’s been a month since he first met Fushiguro Megumi and consequently Fushiguro Tsumiki. At first, he really didn’t mean to do anything with him— er…well, either of them. Toji’s last words piqued his interest, is all. So, he spent the better chunk of the last term of his third year at Jujutsu Tech scouting for said kid.
All he wanted to do was take a peek, see if the kid was of any worth. After that? Well, Satoru didn’t think that far ahead.
He wasn’t really known for his foresight after all. Sixsight maybe? Ha! Well, he’d figure out what he’d do after meeting him.
To his surprise, Sorcerer Killer Jr. was a two-for-one deal. Equipped with a perpetual frown and a seven-year-old sister as his only caretaker.
Apparently Tsumiki’s Mom ran out on them six months ago, leaving them with enough money to sustain themselves for at most a year. How fucking generous.
He came knowing he’d rid those children of a father, yes. But…he didn’t expect these kids to be outright fending for themselves. Did Toji really go out on his teenage killing side gigs expecting these children to stay alive while he was away for days at a time? Leaving all the work to another deadbeat parent? Yeah, he hated babysitting himself, but even this was a little overkill.
Despite what everyone thought of him, Satoru wasn’t a heartless monster. Megumi was due to be sold to the Zenin clan in a year's time if Toji’s final words were accurate.
After their first meeting, he considered just turning around and leaving them be. It didn’t take much of a scan for the Six Eyes to see the potential brewing just from the boy’s cursed energy alone. Despite the clear evidence of some sort of inherited technique, Satoru didn’t know what he could do for him. Not his monkey, not his circus, right?
As brutal as the Zenin were, they did spoil strong boys. He’d be fed, have a roof over his head, and he’d be raised by people invested in him. Invested in his power, more like it. Like the clan freaks who raised him.
So maybe he wouldn’t be happy…but he certainly wouldn’t have to worry about starving to death.
An odd twinge poked at his heart the first time he entertained that idea, but he ignored the initial call to responsibility.
No. What truly changed Satoru’s mind was the conviction in Megumi’s tone as he spoke in concern for his sister.
“What’ll happen to Tsumiki? If we go, will Tsumiki be happy? My answer depends on that.”
He remembered his answer leaping out of his mouth before his brain even fully formed the thought. There was no shadow of a doubt what their lives would look like with those Zenin loser fucks.
“No.”
“One hundred percent no. There’s absolutely no way. I guarantee that.”
He noticed the girl’s energy several kilometers away before she peeked over the balcony and before he even stepped foot on their street— a non-sorcerer based on the way her cursed energy slowly trickled from her body.
“Megumi’s home! Hey!”
She waved, the movement stuttering upon seeing the stranger crouched in front of her brother. Megumi only gave her a quiet look, and her smile returned once she realized he was safe.
Satoru never had a sibling. He didn’t know that sort of thing mattered.
If the boy didn’t want to sign his and Tsumiki’s lives away at the Zenin compound, then it looked like Satoru would just have to intervene.
—
Once again. Gojo Satoru was not known for his foresight.
Seriously, when he decided to put a stop to Megumi’s impending sale, he kind of assumed all he needed to do was throw in a few not-so-empty threats and pay them double what Toji was supposed to receive for the kid.
In fact, that’s exactly what he did.
There was nothing Zenin Naobito could do to scare him off. Not his wealth, not his influence in Jujutsu Society, and certainly not his army. Toji was the closest thing to a threat that they’d ever had, and he died. Died by his hand.
The hard part and the part he managed to forget completely was what came after.
Megumi was free.
That freedom cost him security.
The kind of security Satoru wasn’t sure he could provide.
For a while, he managed a semblance of harmony with the kids. Rent, groceries, and other bills were covered by him. Money was simple. Money was easy.
The two seemed fine before he rammed his way into their lives. Tsumiki was a good girl who took to responsibility like a fish to water. She taught herself how to cook the most basic of dishes, how to clean up after the two of them, and knew the walk to and from school before he was ever in the picture. All he had to do was handle their finances and drop them some allowance.
Honestly, his presence was a little unwanted. It’s as if he broke whatever flow the two kids were in every time he popped in to check on them.
Megumi in particular was quite vocal about his displeasure towards him.
“You’re actually back. What do you want now?” the younger boy sneered, teeth bared and face scrunched up with contempt. It did little to intimidate Satoru, who responded with an equally annoying smirk of his own.
“Ehhh? Is that how you treat the guy who brought back souvenirs?” Satoru replied, pushing his way through their front door, hip-checking little Megumi along the way.
The kid grunted as he stabilized himself, unable to do anything about the 190 centimeters barging his way into their home.
“Where’s Tsumiki-chan?” Satoru asked, toeing off his shoes as he stepped past the genkan, a gift bag balancing precariously off his finger.
Right on cue, the girl in question shuffled towards the two boys. She was wearing the same tattered house shirt he’d last seen her in before he left town for his mission. The color was a muddy brown—with the collar visibly stretched from frequent wear. Some sort of cartoon-y cat was plastered on the front, though chunks of the image had chipped away from the dozens of washes it’s probably gone through. It fit over her loosely like it was more meant for an adult than a child. Looked more like a dress than a shirt. Perhaps a trip to a local shopping street was in order.
A relieved expression painted itself over her face before she spoke.
“Gojo-san, you’re back!” Tsumiki cheered, bounding over gleefully as he handed her the little bag. “How was your mission?”
He patted the top of her head fondly, straining a grin at her enthusiasm. Having someone excited to see him was certainly odd, but it was definitely not unpleasant. New…maybe?
“It was easy peasy. That curse stood no chance against me,” Satoru answered brightly, matching the girl’s bouncy energy as they took to the meager dining table a few steps away. “I haven’t been gone too long, I hope?”
Tsumiki shook her head in reply, too polite to add anything more than that.
He’d been really great at coming by every other day. Sometimes he’d make consecutive visits if his schedule allowed it. For the first time since he squeezed his way into their lives, he had a mission far from Tokyo. He’d been gone for four whole days, but at least he was back to take them out on the weekend.
Megumi eventually joined them at the table, slipping into a chair as quiet as a mouse.
“They had me all the way in Kanazawa for most of the trip, but I had another call to take care of some Grade One in Shizuoka. I just got back to Tokyo in the afternoon and took the train to Saitama after my mission debrief.” Satoru chattered.
He knew the kids didn’t care where he zipped off to, but he felt this sudden need to explain himself, and he’d been trying to listen to his instincts a little more these days. It was like he had to compensate for something. Was it bad that he left with no warning? He was coming back, though. They had to know that.
Satoru felt as if he fucked up a little. He just didn’t completely understand why.
“Seriously, I don’t know why they expect a report the second I get back. Those things could definitely wait a day… I spent the majority of my time commuting instead of beating curses! Isn’t that annoying?”
Now that he’s the only active Special Grade sorcerer, his plate had been stacked to the heavens. Every day he was handed a tall order. Tall like a ten-tier chocolate cake, but instead of chocolate, it was shit smothered in curse blood. Hot shit on a silver plate.
Man, he’d really like that chocolate cake instead.
“Wow…you must be tired, Gojo-san,” Tsumiki fretted, concern painted over her young face. “Is it okay that you’re here then? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Nah—” Satoru shrugged before getting cut off.
“Gojo doesn’t get tired. That’s why he’s always loud,” Megumi chimed in, stretching over the table as if he didn’t just mildly insult him.
“Is that why you’re always quiet then? Hmmmm? Because you’re sweeepy, Megumi-chan? Should I tuck you into bed?” Satoru snickered, ruffling the boy’s hair into an even wilder mess. Megumi’s face proceeded to plant straight into the table under the mounting pressure of Satoru’s palm.
“Ugh, lay off!” he responded with a whine, shoving Satoru’s hand away.
“Well, thank you anyway for visiting us even though you just got home,” Tsumiki murmured sheepishly, her gaze drifting from the two— back to the gift bag he brought in. Now that all pleasantries were out of the way, the sparkling excitement of a present lit up in her eyes.
Satoru released his grip on Megumi’s head before standing up.
“Don’t be shy now. I know you’re trying your best to look less eager, but that bag is all for you and Megumi,” he smiled, eyes crinkling behind his darkened shades. “Open it. Open it!”
Megumi let out another grunt from the other end of the dining table, his head craned out with thinly veiled interest. Slipping his hands under Megumi’s arms, he lifted the boy off his seat and plopped him on the edge of the table, allowing him to flank the other side of the bag.
Tsumiki simply giggled. And wasn’t that a lovely sound?
“Okay. Thank you,” she nodded, accepting the gift.
He hadn’t had much time to walk around Kanazawa, but he made sure to pick up a few things at Shizuoka.
“Ah! This is mine?” Tsumiki squealed, holding up a pack of hair barrettes. He actually spent around ten minutes debating which design to choose. Satoru wasn’t sure what Tsumiki’s taste in accessories was, but by that reaction, he chose well.
“It’s so pretty! I can’t wait to wear it to school,” Tsumiki sighed elatedly, tracing her fingers against the bump of thread. He picked the oval-shaped clips with embroidered flowers decorating the canvas-textured backings. It seemed elegant but colorful, something he thought suited the girl.
Soon after, Megumi found his present as well. That kid was a little harder to shop for. He was much quieter about his interests than his sister and hadn’t engaged in enough conversation for Satoru to make a general assessment of his likes. But! He did notice where Megumi’s attention tended to shift whenever he swung by and took them out to town.
Where Satoru and Tsumiki seemed to bounce off each other’s giddy energy naturally, Megumi would be the one subdued. He would rather observe the birds perched on lampposts, the cat that roamed around the local butcher shop, and occasionally some of the small geckos littering the walls than join whatever exaggerated stories his sister and benefactor would find themselves in the midst of telling.
Honestly, getting Megumi to talk with any degree of spirit was hard work. He only ever seemed passionate about animals and other small creatures. And annoyingly, his nasty one-liner insults.
Satoru watched with bated breath as Megumi pulled out a picture book. It was just a NatGeo Kids book he picked up at a gift shop at the station, the cover reading ‘Deadliest Animals’ with an enlarged photo of a lion as its background— filled with an assortment of fun facts and animal-related jokes. Satoru prayed it wasn’t too difficult or too easy for his reading level. He had no clue what sorts of milestones five-year-olds were supposed to reach. Maybe they could read it together if it was no good for him on his own.
He remembered being five once, but apparently chaperoned field trips to practice your cursed technique via real-world scenarios weren’t common for that age. And he’d very much like to avoid shoving Megumi into curse-infested areas for several years to come. His technique hadn’t even manifested yet.
“Oh,” Megumi hummed, eyes scanning the front cover. Satoru tried not to wilt visibly at the sound. “Thanks.”
Tsumiki stroked her baby brother’s head, seemingly happy at his display of manners while he was over here dying from that tragic rejection! That was totally a pity thanks, right?
“Don’t worry, he likes it.” She turned to Satoru, whispering as if Megumi wasn’t still within earshot.
Really? Did he? Megumi hasn’t berated him yet, so maybe he did.
Satoru let out a small laugh as the tension finally left his shoulders. He knew the tells of an annoyed Megumi. An impatient Megumi. A curious Megumi. But a pleased Megumi? Well, that was certainly a first. The manners should have been a dead giveaway. He’s usually never this polite to Satoru. His civility was often saved for everyone but him.
“Hah? I’m glad then,” He sighed.
There were still a few goodies in the bag that the two had yet to look through, so Satoru took the initiative and emptied whatever was left as the kids fiddled with their personal gifts.
“Hey! There’s still more stuff in here, guys,” Satoru groused, trying to get their attention onto the neglected sweets he picked out. Call him biased, but he thought these would be way more interesting than books and hair clips.
“What are those?” Megumi indulged the older teen, putting his book down.
“Local specialities from Shizuoka!” Satoru beamed. Cue his exaggerated jazz hands. In his mind, some confetti definitely exploded.
Moving the now empty bag aside, Satoru plopped down two treats. One was a tin of unagi pie from Hamamatsu City, and the other was the wagashi he was most interested in. Tsumiki seemed to follow the same thought as she went straight for the other box.
“Ooooh, the paper is pretty. Can I keep it, Gojo-san?” Tsumiki grinned, tracing her fingers across the gold foil lettering stamped on the gift paper.
The box itself was small, wrapped in a fancy Ukiyo-e-inspired print with a thin silk ribbon tying everything together. Under the navy bow lay washes of blue and green. Mt Fuji stood brilliantly far into the distance. Immovable and perennial—guiding a flock of cranes down to a riverbank as a puff of mist blended the work into one soft song.
Tsumiki, as he’d recently discovered, kept a scrapbook. She’d been relatively shy about showing him some pages. Filled with flattened candy wrappers and stickers collected as prizes from school and written tidbits of where she’d found them— all the things in her small world that she found beautiful. Like a diary.
Some had dedicated pages for photographs her mother used to take. It’s one of the few things that woman left behind that her daughter could remember her by. Such a thing managed to be both callous and merciful. She probably wanted the paper for that.
“Knock yourself out,” Satoru shrugged. If she wanted to keep the pretty paper, she could keep the pretty paper.
“Okay, but what’s in it?” Megumi murmured, disinterested in the frilly things getting in the way of his other present.
“Abekawa mochi! It’s not too sweet,” Satoru explained, fiddling with the ribbon. With the main knot undone, the silk unraveled with one gentle tug. “The red box is Unagi Pie. I think that’s kind of a savory thing.”
Megumi had once shoved aside some dorayaki he'd brought back to their apartment from a street vendor, claiming they were “too sweet!” and tasted like “pure sugar!!” Picky ass kid.
“You like that, right? Not too sweet?” He continued talking absentmindedly, most of his attention lasered on taking off the tape sealing the dessert from two curious kids (Including him too…he wants to try one too!).
“Yeah…I do,” Megumi replied, looking off to the side, his ears turning a little pink.
After a few seconds of careful scratching, Satoru finally caught a corner of tape and took it clean off. He handed Tsumiki the wrapping paper and ribbon with a little wink before sticking the decorative tape onto the tip of Megumi’s nose.
“Never had it myself, but the shop lady said it’s kinda like warabi mochi’s sexier cousin.”
“No way she did!” Tsumiki frowned, followed by an “Ugh. What’s wrong with you?” from the younger boy as he ripped the offending sticker off of his face.
“Whatttt? It’s true. Warabi mochi goes down like water! Abekawa mochi supposedly has more give. Chewy and shit!”
“Gojo-san. No swearing!”
Giving Satoru another piece of her mind, Tsumiki sent a well-deserved flick to his shoulder— the highest point she could reach without standing on the chair.
“Gah! No violence!” Satoru winced, rubbing the spot theatrically as he faked being more hurt than he actually was. She didn’t notice the way her finger hadn’t brushed past any fabric at all—just the thin layer of infinity separating her from Satoru.
—
There were still a few more hours left before sunset. After ushering the kids to get ready to go out, Satoru settled back into one of the dining room chairs. The kids didn’t have a couch in their apartment. It was bare of a lot of things he considered essential furniture despite the place looking so full. Sure, there was a TV, but he’s pretty sure this model came out around the time Megumi’s dad was born. Whenever the fuck that was.
He honestly hadn’t seen a TV that still had a wooden cabinet before, not to mention the bunny ears. Having to adjust the antenna to watch cartoons wasn’t something he wanted to relive. Cable would be a fun thing to introduce them to, maybe.
A buzz in his pocket interrupted his thoughts, and he fumbled for the device responsible. Flipping his phone open, he checked the new notification.
An SMS from Yaga.
From: Yaga Sensei!!
Satoru where are you? It’s been hours.
Sat, May 17, 15:36
Satoru clicked his tongue. It was the weekend, and he just got back from a long mission. What could they possibly want from him now? He typed a quick reply, hoping that would be the end of that.
To: Yaga Sensei!!
Busy. Be back on campus before 9
Sat, May 17, 15:37
From: Yaga Sensei!!
Fine. But hand in your report properly.
‘Killed it’ isn’t an acceptable mission briefing.
Sat, May 17, 15:38
To: Yaga Sensei!!
kk
Sat, May 17, 15:38
Satoru snickered, already imagining Yaga’s surly reaction to his bare-bones reply. That muscle-headed sensei of his was probably clutching his phone in a white-knuckle grip, grumbling some sort of critique about Satoru’s etiquette.
He wasn’t sure if Yaga had any idea what Satoru’s been up to these past few weeks. He never asked what he did during his free time, so he never gave an answer. Shoko probably had no idea either. Megumi’s sale was a private affair between Toji and Naobito. Satoru’s intervention was a personal matter too, and one of the few reasons he was allowed to take Megumi under his wing in the first place. He agreed to keep the Gojo clan from being involved, so that neither family had their hands on what was suspected to be a powerful technique. Thankfully, Naobito recognized he didn’t play ambassador for the Gojo despite being its heir.
So, everything should still be on the down low. Despite being a total pushover to the Six Eyes, Naobito— that old bastard had more pride than Satoru had money. That clan head would try to avoid the higher-ups knowing about this transaction for as long as he could…lest he stir up the Jujutsu rumor mill.
How long could he keep this a secret from the school was the real question. He just started his fourth and final year. The year that students were only at school to learn twenty percent of the time. The other eighty percent spent on missions. He couldn’t keep leaving the kids to their own devices. It was a fact that he was one of the busiest sorcerers alive. Busy wasn’t stable. That’s what they needed, right? Stable? Should he find them a good family? Would they even allow more strangers into their lives? Could a family even protect a child with the coveted Ten Shadows technique? Sorcerer or Non-sorcerer parents? Which would be acceptable?
Right now everything was still manageable, but it’s bound to implode like everything always does around him. He just had to be better now. This had to be the one thing he couldn’t fuck up. All children deserve good parents, and Satoru was not their parent, but for now he’d pretend to be something close.
“Gojo-san?” Tsumiki called out to him, dragging her little brother along. “We’re ready!”
“Yeah? Let’s hurry and get everything done before it’s dark out,” Satoru grinned, shoving his thoughts back to the far corners of his mind. He’ll sort it out eventually.
—
Tsumiki skipped ahead of the two boys, twirling her new ribbon around in the air. Figure eights glided along the fresh spring breeze, following the wide motions Tsumiki drew. Megumi hovered by Gojo’s side as they watched his sister spin and prance across the sidewalk.
“You think I could be a ribbon dancer?” The girl asked, slowing down to stand by her brother’s right, taking his hand in hers.
“No.”
Tsumiki ignored him.
“You’re telling me you’re not a pro already? Should I sign you up for this year’s Olympics?” Satoru quipped.
“No way! I don’t even have a proper ribbon like Miu-chan. Her mama bought her one with a stick,” Tsumiki denied, giggling at his dramatics.
“Ehhh? We can’t have that! If the lack of a stick is the only thing keeping you from going pro, we gotta fix it ASAP.”
Satoru made a grabby motion toward Tsumiki. The girl, in turn, relinquished her ribbon without much of a fight.
He just needed to attach a stick to it, right? Halting in front of a tree, Satoru raised an arm and snapped one of the thinner branches hanging overhead. He weighed the object in his hand for a moment, appraising its potential for the job. Seemed wand-ish enough.
A little cursed energy did wonders. Something he learned early on in life. It wasn’t only great for beating the shit out of curses and idiot curse users, but also for menial tasks! With the smallest amount of energy required, he gathered it in his pointer finger and created a small slit near the tip of the branch. He didn’t even need to use his technique. His raw energy did the job just fine. Just something long and wide enough of a gap to slip the ribbon through. He tied one end off with a tight knot before giving the thing a test wave.
“Ta-da!” Satoru presented the new and improved ribbon wand with an air of triumph. “How’s this?”
“Oh my gosh! It’s just like hers,” Tsumiki squealed, resuming her little ribbon dancing parade.
“Keep practicing, and we’ll see you in Beijing come August.”
They continued walking down the street for a few more minutes before Satoru guided them to the closest shopping center near their apartment.
“What are we doing here? You never actually told us the plans,” Megumi muttered, tugging at Satoru’s pants.
“Uhhh…”
He had a vague itinerary planned. The kids needed more things, and today would probably be the freest he’d be in a while.
“Clothes, food stuff, and dinner out. That sound good with you two?”
Megumi shrugged, okay to go along with something mundane-sounding. Tsumiki, on the other hand, had stopped twirling about— now standing straight as an arrow and uncharacteristically still.
“Groceries are fine, but we already have clothes, and we can eat dinner at home. It’s cheaper that way,” She shook her head, now fidgeting with the ribbon.
“Huh? It’s all good. I’m paying, remember?” Satoru responded, tilting his head. She hadn’t been this apprehensive since the first time he spoke to her and told her he’d take care of rent and other bills. It was the same air of cautiousness drifting about her, like she was waiting for a blow that would never come. Just what were you waiting for, Tsumiki?
“Yes, I remember. And…and thank you for everything, Gojo-san. But Megumi and I are okay with what we have. You don’t need to buy us so many things. It’s a waste. And and ah…we can’t pay you back right now anyways so, um…” She continued, stumbling over her words in an attempt to break down her reasoning with as much dignity as she could muster.
Seeing his sister so clearly distressed, he broke away from Satoru and slotted himself closer to her, sending a glare his way.
“Wuh–” Satoru sputtered. “I’m not asking for you to pay me back later. I’m not loaning you money. I’m not asking for anything back at all.”
“But— But Mama told me not to put ourselves in a position where we owe people money. Not ever,” She continued, desperate to get him to understand what she meant. Spending another person’s money would only give you grief. It’s something he could hang over their heads. And her Mom told her some people might ask for debt to be paid off in other ways.
“And I’m saying you don’t owe me,” He reiterated— slower this time. “It’s something I choose to do. It’s not a favor, ya know? It’s something that needs to be done, and I can do it. I promise you’re not breaking my bank. I’ve made bigger dents in my wallet with desserts alone than anything I’ve ever spent on you two.”
Satoru didn’t know if he was saying the right things, if he was countering her words in a way that would let her know that his spending wasn’t meant to be transactional. He wasn’t keeping receipts, and he wasn’t tallying favors.
“I don’t understand…”
“What’s there to understand? Don’t you want new shoes, Megumi?” Satoru smiled, turning to the sharp-eyed boy. If he can’t convince her, maybe the baby of the family could. “And don’t you think Tsumiki would be happier with a new dress to match her hair clips?”
At the sudden attention, the boy in question shuffled his feet awkwardly.
“I mean, I guess so?” Megumi mumbled. “Come on, Tsumiki…Gojo doesn’t care. It’s not like he’s spending money on smokes or horses on the TV. That stuff’s the real waste.”
Still looking at his feet, he tugged at his sister’s hands so they could keep going forward. He could feel the eyes of passersby, and he hoped to God they weren’t making a scene.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” She asked Satoru one last time.
“It will always be okay.”
—
It took a while to get Tsumiki comfortable again. They spent a considerable amount of time in the department store picking out clothes. Satoru could tell which garments Tsumiki wanted, but she’d always settle for something else after looking at the price tag.
“Don’t these match your hair accessories better?” Satoru frowned, picking up the dress she had just returned to the rack. It had a similar canvas-like texture but wasn’t rough against the skin. A trapeze dress, judging by the shape, adorned with similarly embroidered flowers and a pearl sewn in the center of the petals.
“It’s okay, I don’t have anywhere to wear that to anyway,” Tsumiki shook her head.
Dear God, she had been such an easy kid until this moment. The urge to rip his hair out only grew after each refusal.
“You’d need a nice dress for Open Class Observation, right?” He argued, swishing it in front of her like a dog treat. “Something to wear if we go to the zoo…or aquarium or your birthday, which is when again?”
“It was in March.”
“Oh.” Satoru blinked. It was already halfway through May. Well, the point still stood. He jabbed a thumb in Megumi’s direction as he fiddled with some laces in the little boy’s section. “Look! Megumi already has a few outfits picked. He’s looking for shoes now. You’re falling behind, Tsumiki-chan!”
Now Tsumiki was the one staring at the ground. Satoru followed her line of sight, wondering what about the floor had them so damn captivated.
“Open Class Observation Day…”
“Hm?”
“You’d go?”
Satoru paused, playing different branches of conversation in his head. An appropriate answer was warranted. The mood of the day was dependent on him saying the correct thing. Truthfully, he only had a vague idea of what happened at those school events. Until he was fifteen, his only experience with education existed within the same four walls of his compound’s study quarters. He was the only student. Most of the things he knew about public school came from the pamphlet he yanked from the school’s office and the many hours he spent on Yahoo, searching the do’s and don’ts of ‘babysitting’.
“Yeah. It’s important. Isn’t it?”
She nodded in reply, lips drawn into a tight line. “It is. No one’s bothered to come last year or before that.”
“I’ll go.”
“Really?”
“I want to.”
“Megumi will be really embarrassed,” Tsumiki snickered. “What will I tell our classmates or teachers when they ask who you are?”
“You can tell them that this unusually attractive teenager is your older brother…who’s visiting from out of town,” Satoru winked, gesturing to himself.
“Okay,” The girl finally relented, taking the dress from Satoru’s hand.
“Two dresses, five tops, two bottoms, and two shoes…maybe more socks too," Satoru practically demanded. How did that saying go? Give someone a hand, they’ll take your whole arm. Only in this case, he was the one taking arms. Now that Tsumiki was willing to get the cute dress, he’ll make sure she gets the most out of this trip.
“Don’t you dare look at the price tags. I promise you it won’t hurt my wallet,” He huffed, stalking over to Megumi.
“I’m gunna go make sure he’s picking things in his size. Don’t let me find you holding nothing, ” Satoru added, sending her one final look.
Megumi was much easier to convince. He wasn’t very particular with most clothes and even let Satoru pick some things out for him. He also didn’t care that he was using Satoru’s money at all, which he found both relieving and aggravating for reasons unknown.
“I don’t care what brand it is as long as it’s not itchy,” The boy explained, standing still as Satoru sized up shirt after shirt. Looks like his patience was starting to run thin.
“Yeah, and that’s why the brand is important! The higher quality ones usually mean they’re not itchy.”
“Whatever. Let’s just be done.”
By the end, Satoru’s left arm weighed half a Megumi, but at least the two had something new to add to their wardrobe. Lots of the things he’d seen them wear were either too small or too big. They were still growing after all, so the larger-fitting clothes were likely something left behind from Tsumiki’s mom or maybe even Toji. (His clothes would probably drown both of them, though.)
Grocery shopping by far had been the easiest task. Most trips to the grocery store for him were spent in the candy and snack aisles, but exploring the sections with actual food was okay too.
Tsumiki bossed him around, and he followed orders gleefully if it meant getting her to buy things. Meanwhile, Megumi sat inside the cart, passively reading the labels of whatever had been piled inside while Satoru rolled him around. His only ask was that he have a jar of pickled ginger. Was he five or fifty?
“Gojo.”
“What’s up?”
The kid took a glance at his sister, making sure she was still busy checking out which loaf of bread to add, before whispering.
“Tsumiki…she only knows how to cook eggs and rice and sometimes packet miso soup. I like it…but I don’t want to tell her I’m a bit tired.” Megumi admitted, keeping his voice low. As blunt as he was at times, he always tried to be tactful when it came to her.
Satoru scratched his head. Okay, what was he supposed to do with that?
“We can buy other ingredients. We could get vegetables and meat and stuff?” His suggestion sounded more like a question. He gave them grocery money, sure. But he never actually went grocery shopping with them.
“Okay,” he huffed, but didn’t seem all too satisfied with his answer. “We don’t touch the knife, though. Tsumiki cut her finger once.”
Oh. He supposed that made sense. He forgot children weren’t expected to cook their own meals. Neither Tsumiki nor Megumi could comfortably reach the counter without a stool, and they ate subsidized lunches provided at their school. They’ve probably been living on free meals and simple food when they were at home.
“How does curry sound? I can prep a few different things throughout the week. You two just need to reheat it when I’m away,” He offered. Satoru wasn’t a great cook by any means, but he could chop vegetables and meat. Stir-frying things was simple too. Give him a few tries, and he’s sure he’ll be a master.
“You sure you got time for that?” Megumi eyed him warily.
“Er…I’ll find time. Don’t worry about it. It’ll work out,” Satoru waved him off.
“Okay. Well, just don’t tell her I told you. She’s sensitive about stuff like that…”
—
Satoru understood it now. The dynamic between the siblings. He thought Megumi was the more difficult of the two, but really, Tsumiki was the one most affected by the change of pace. Though she was chattier and seemingly amiable in comparison to her prickly kid brother— any time Satoru tried to assume some sort of responsibility, her defenses would spring right up.
That made sense, he supposed. For the six months before he showed up, she was the one doing the cooking, the cleaning, handling their finances, and taking care of Megumi. Neighbors alleviated her of her duties occasionally. Sending the kids leftovers and helping Tsumiki count money for the bills. But, for the most part, it was all her.
Perhaps his swooping in challenged her perception of who was in charge. Maybe she believed her self-worth was tied to how well she could manage the household. That wasn’t something Satoru was equipped to handle. Psychological affairs were where he failed time and time again.
He didn’t know what it would take to convince her that he was someone who could be depended on. Hell, he didn’t trust himself most of the time. Trust was a slow thing to earn. So he’d just chip away at it until being around them was as natural as breathing.
—
Dinner was the best part of the evening. The kids wanted to try Western-style food, so the three of them sat down at the Royal Host just across the street.
The whole evening, Tsumiki gushed over the interior, touching everything she saw. Even Megumi looked around with mild interest. This was the fanciest place they’d ever been in. Which…was kind of sad when this place didn’t even make top five on his list. It was just a family chain restaurant. The seats in the booth they were in were kind of muggy, and the laminated menus were cloudy from other people’s oily skin. Not that he went fine dining often, but Satoru at least knew what fancy was supposed to look like. Roy-Ho was kind of more expensive than other family restaurants, so he’ll give them that.
He didn’t speak up on it, letting the two murmur to each other excitedly.
Another funny thing that happened during dinner was that their waitress mistook Satoru for a foreigner. His white hair and blue eyes had confused plenty of people before, but Satoru was Japanese through and through! To the kids’ delight, she left them an English menu— forgetting to take it back after Satoru had explained that he, in fact, was not a foreigner and that he was arguably more Japanese than she was. His bloodline could be traced back for centuries, and she could probably only go up the family tree a few generations.
Safe to say, she wasn’t amused by his tirade. Not even his good looks could smooth down the wrinkles forming between her brow.
Tsumiki ordered a pasta dish, Megumi a hamburg steak set, and Satoru a risotto with seared scallops. He had never tried it before, but it sounded kind of good.
They played around with their new English menu, reading the words off the page painstakingly slow and mimicking a terrible attempt at an American accent. Megumi was the best, surprisingly adept at reading foreign text. Satoru was okay. He could read all the letters, but he’d fumble in front of a real English speaker— something he’d have to get past if he wanted to take missions overseas. Which was probably due for him soon.
Once the food was delivered to their table, the three of them quieted down, focusing more on eating than on conversation.
It was nice. All of it was nice. He hadn’t gone to a family restaurant and eaten with other people in a long time. Maybe over a year? Way before Suguru even—
Last summer was busy. No one had time for each other back then. He and Shoko hardly saw each other outside of general classes nowadays. Fourth year only made the distance grow wider.
By the time they finished dinner and climbed out of their seats, Megumi officially ran out of energy for the day, eating himself into a food coma. Which meant he was useless as shit.
For fifteen painstaking minutes, Satoru carried all their groceries plus Megumi’s clothes in his left arm, and carried a sleeping Megumi in his right. Tsumiki unfortunately had to hold her own things on the way back.
“Kid, wake the hell up,” Satoru grumbled, shaking the boy a little rougher than necessary. “I’m not carrying you up the stairs. You live on the second fuckin’ floor. Cut me some slack.”
“Mmmm…can’t.”
“The fuck you mean ‘can’t’?!”
“Gojo-san, language.”
“Ugh! Just go upstairs and unlock the door, Tsumiki,” Satoru whined, ushering the girl to move ahead of him.
All attempts to dislodge the sleeping boy were in vain. He just clung on harder. Left with no choice, Satoru trudged up. He swore he felt something crick in his back by the time he made it to their door.
Once inside, he deposited everything onto the dining table with a grateful sigh. Megumi, who was supposedly too tired to climb up the stairs, slipped from his grasp and locked himself in the bathroom.
“The hell? And he made me carry him all the way here?” Satoru frowned, eyes following the boy’s retreating figure before joining Tsumiki in putting the groceries away.
“Hehe…Megumi used to pretend to be asleep all the time in preschool, just so he could be carried around by the teachers. He’d take a nap outside during play hours so they would carry him inside.”
“Huh, that’s kinda funny, I guess,” Satoru mumbled, neatly stacking packs of meat for the freezer.
He tried to recall a time he did something like that. Around his age or maybe a little bit older…Satoru stopped taking naps altogether. Martial arts training took more precedence since he was finally old enough to start conditioning. No one carried him like that again.
“Thanks for taking us out for dinner…and for the clothes and the food and the souvenirs and…and everything. All of it,” Tsumiki began, cutting off his train of thought.
“Hm? Yeah, it’s cool,” He replied casually, fingers twitching despite his indifferent tone.
“Really though. You helped us so much, I don’t…” She continued, voice wobbling slightly as she took a sharp breath. “I don’t know how to accept it sometimes. It’s too good to be true. Good things like this aren’t supposed to happen to me.”
“Hey…” Satoru coughed, hands hovering in the air uselessly. Tsumiki hiccuped, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“You’re seriously crying over this?” He commented under his breath, planting a hand on top of her head, shaking her like a bobblehead.
“Haha, sorry! Sorry!” She laughed. At least she was smiling now despite the tears.
“I meant it, you know?”
“What?”
“The thing I said earlier,” He whispered, letting his hand fall back to his side. “That you guys don’t owe me anything. There’s nothing to pay back.”
She was quiet again, eyes boring into him like she was appraising the truth of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’re helping me.”
Satoru knew what she was implying. The Me instead of Us. She knew that he was only here for Megumi. He gave both of them the rundown soon after Megumi accepted Satoru’s intervention. There was no obligation for him to extend his hand to Fushiguro Tsumiki when Megumi was the one he was after. Still, he did it anyway. And he’ll keep doing it.
“Cause I can, silly,” He answered evasively, “Just accept it as it is.”
“Okay.”
—
Checking the wall clock, it read 8:02. That should be enough time to say goodnight and take the train back to campus.
Stretching as he walked down the hall, he knocked on their bedroom door. Tsumiki took her turn in the bathroom to wash up and get ready for the evening, so it was just Megumi in the room.
“Gojo?” Megumi yawned, caught in the middle of slipping into his futon— the book Satoru got him in hand.
“Hey, kid. I’m about to head out. Tell your sister I left once she’s back from the bathroom.”
“M’kay,” He replied, seemingly content to leave it at that.
“Goodnight, then.” Satoru drawled, halfway out the door.
Megumi looked back up anyway, clearly thinking of something intently.
“Gojo?”
“What?”
“You’re coming back…right?”
Megumi’s voice never sounded so small.
“Welllll…I can’t say I’ll be back every day. But yeah, I’ll be back,” Satoru nodded, ditching the door as a kneeled beside Megumi’s futon.
“Tsumiki’s too polite to say it, but she thinks you’re gunna leave for good and still believes her Mama’s coming back. She’s obviously gone gone.”
Well shit. Was this kid actually five? So much god damn baggage— he’s starting to feel bad.
“I’m not leaving for good,” Satoru replied, short and simple.
“Sure. I don’t care if you do, but Tsumiki is the trusting type. Don’t lie to her. I’ll kill you.”
At that, Satoru snorted, breaking into a full belly laugh.
“I mean, I was totally being honest, but you couldn’t kill me even if I lied. I could send you away with my pinky,” He taunted, the instinct to tease flicking on like a switch at the kid's threat.
“I’ll stab you in the balls, asshole!” Megumi growled, his futon fluttering as he kicked his legs under it angrily.
“Maybe when yours finally drop!” Satoru wheezed, “Until then, you’re still a shrimp who can’t use his technique.”
“Ugh, go away! You’re so annoying.”
“Sure, sure,” Satoru hummed, getting up with a short grunt.
“Goodnight, Megumi.”
Megumi huffed, still a bit irritated, but replied anyway, “Goodnight, Gojo.”
He didn’t fully believe that Gojo’s presence in their life was permanent. Maybe he’ll be there for another week. Maybe a month…or a year if they were lucky. But Megumi believed in his heart that Gojo would be gone eventually. Everyone left. Tsumiki was his only constant. For now, they’ll enjoy not having to worry about money. Tsumiki had been putting their allowance away in case they found themselves alone again.
The next morning, though, Megumi woke up to noise in the kitchen. Gojo and Tsumiki were making breakfast.