Archive of Our Own

“Oh, my sweet, cute, adorable, muffins–”

“Ew.”

“–-you’re growing up so fast.” Gojo dramatically smudged an invisible tear from beneath his eye. “Next thing you know, you’ll both move out, travel the world, and leave your old man behind.”

Megumi groaned in resignation, his shoulders slumping as he adjusted the straps of his backpack. Beside him, Tsumiki giggled, still hugging Gojo around the waist.

“We’re only going on a school trip,” Megumi rolled his eyes. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“But—”

“And,” Megumi continued, pointedly ignoring him, “I’m eight! You make me sound like some old, wrinkly man. If someone’s old, it’s you!” 

He pointed an accusing finger at Gojo, who immediately clutched his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded.

Tsumiki looked between them with an amused smile.

“He doesn’t mean it,” she assured Gojo, giving him a toothy grin. “We like you even if you’re old.”

The older teen sucked in painfully.

“...And we’re going to miss you.”

Gojo immediately brightened.

“Aww.”

He ruffled her hair, earning a small laugh, before pulling her into another hug.

“Oh, my adorable princess Tsukuboo–”

“Oh my god.” Megumi rolled his eyes so dramatically that Gojo was half surprised they hadn't popped out of his head.

“You’re so much nicer than your younger brother,” Gojo sighed, releasing Tsumiki and placing a hand over his heart. “But don’t worry, JellyBean. I love you too.”

Megumi threw his head back with a groan.

“To the moon and back. You’re both my favorite angels.”

“Gojo, if you say one more nickname, I will puke,” Megumi warned him. His face was already beginning to turn red. “It’s embarrassing.”

Oh, yeah.

The entire group had been watching them.

A crowd of actual grown adults—parents and teachers alike—stood around with their little eight-year-olds, many of them openly trying not to laugh. A few were whispering to each other, while others simply watched Gojo's increasingly ridiculous display of affection with amused smiles.

While Megumi burned brighter and brighter red, Tsumiki, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to giggle at her brother’s suffering.

Gojo tilted his head, genuinely confused.

“You don’t like them?”

Megumi tightened his grip on his backpack straps and shook his head. 

“Of course I don’t! They’re dumb.”

“Nooo,” Gojo whined, drawing out the word as he leaned closer. “You just don’t understand. Muffin is because you’re named Megumi, so it sounds the same. Munchkin sounds similar but cuter. JellyBean is because you were jealous earlier—”

“Please stop.”

Gojo blinked.

“...I can feel you’re about to say something stupid.” Megumi stared at him with the exhausted expression of someone who had already accepted that this was his life now. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Megatron.”

“That’s it. Bye.” 

Megumi turned sharply on his heel, gripping his backpack closer to himself as he started toward the bus.

Behind him, Gojo immediately erupted into a fit of giggles.

Megumi glanced over his shoulder, his face scrunched angrily, like a cute little kitten, as he disappeared into the bus.

When Gojo felt himself calm down a little, he noticed Tsumiki staring.

“What?” Gojo could barely get the words out between laughs. “It was funny.” 

Tsumiki watched him with an amused expression.

“It was,” she hummed. “But I think it ruins his emo, delinquent reputation.”

“He’s eight,” Gojo said, rolling his eyes. “He can wait with his lone-wolf era until he’s a teenager. And if having his guardian show affection toward him in public ruins it, then there was nothing holding that reputation together in the first place.”

Tsumiki giggled again.

“I’ll miss you.”

Gojo watched her for a moment before his expression softened. “Me too, but we’ll see each other in a week.”

Tsumiki's smile became gentler.

“Just remember to call and let me know you’re okay.” Gojo smiled, reaching over to lightly straighten one of the straps of her backpack. 

“Now shoo. Go have fun. Make bad decisions. Don’t do drugs… that’s it, I guess. Everything else is fine.” He paused. “Just let me know if you need to hide a–”

“Gojo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off. “I’m just joking.”

He wasn’t.

Tsumiki absolutely knew that.

“Go enjoy the trip without your old man standing behind your ass.”

“You’re not that old.” She reminded him kindly. “Even if you have white hair and need glasses, you’re still nineteen.”

“An old soul,” he hummed solemnly.

“...I doubt that.” 

Tsumiki waved at him as she began walking toward the bus. 

“I’m going to Megumi. See you later!”

Gojo lifted his hand and waved back.

“See you, Tsukuboo!”

Tsumiki disappeared into the bus, and Gojo remained where he was for a moment, watching through the open doors as the children found their seats. Most of the passengers were already inside by then. The remaining parents stood around the curb, some waving goodbye, others slowly making their way back toward their cars.

Gojo wandered along the side of the bus until he found the window where Megumi and Tsumiki were sitting.

The moment he spotted them, his entire face lit up.

He raised both hands and began waving at them with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Tsumiki immediately laughed and waved back.

Megumi looked at him.

His expression slowly shifted from confusion to mortification.

He ducked down in his seat, trying to hide his face, even going as far to pull up his hood over his entire face.

Gojo gasped dramatically.

“I looooooove you!” 

He threw his hands up and started making enormous heart shapes with his fingers.

Several parents turned to look at him, one even gave him a particularly judgmental side-eye.

Gojo didn’t give a flying fuck, eyes boring straight ahead to Fushiguro siblings.

Megumi slowly lifted his head. Through the window, Gojo caught sight of the faint flush spreading across his cheeks.

…And then two middle fingers against the glass.

Gojo burst out laughing.

He brought two fingers to his lips and dramatically blew Megumi a kiss, wo which Megumi grimaced.

The bus began to pull away.

Tsumiki was still laughing as she waved through the window, while Megumi quickly ducked back down, apparently deciding that disappearing entirely was his best option.

Gojo continued waving until the bus turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Ah, kids.

A warm feeling spread through his chest.

Such angels.

For several seconds, he simply stood there, watching the empty road where the bus had vanished. The distant rumble of the engine gradually faded until all that remained was the quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional stir of wind. 

A sudden shift behind him made his attention snap.

Gojo glanced over his shoulder, more out of instinct than concern, his eyes briefly sweeping across the trees and the empty stretch of road. There was no sign of cursed energy. Nothing unusual, really. Still, he could have sworn he’d heard a branch crunch somewhere behind him.

…Maybe a rabbit?

A vibration against his palm caught his attention, and his eyes dropped back to his phone as a notification appeared on the screen. 

A new mission.

He stared at it for a few seconds before letting out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders dropping.

“There goes my free day.”

He slipped his phone into his pocket and turned away from the road.

Gojo stretched his arms above his head, then started walking toward yet another mission.

“Great.”

He sighed again.

“So much for relaxing.”

Megumi watched through the window as the trees continued to pass by. He frowned slightly, resting his cheek against his hand. Shouldn’t they be going toward the city? Maybe there was traffic, though he wouldn't know. Gojo usually teleported them everywhere, which meant Megumi had very little idea how long it actually took to get anywhere by car or bus.

“Hey, Megatron.” A girl in the seat behind them poked him in the shoulder.

“What?” Megumi turned around with a frown.

“No need to be so mean,” she huffed defensively. “Was that your brother or your dad?”

Megumi's expression soured.

“Why?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged, leaning forward between the seats. “We were talking about how he looks nothing like you two. Where's your mom? And why is your dad so young?”

Megumi stared at her for a second.

“Why is your mom so fat?”

The girl gasped.

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“I—My mom isn't fat!”

“Is she pregnant, then?”

“No! And stop being so mean!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I just asked you a normal question! Why are you so defensive?”

“Why are you so defensive?” Megumi clicked his tongue. “I asked you a normal question too.”

The girl opened her mouth, clearly struggling to come up with an answer.

“Your brother is an idiot, Tsumiki,” she huffed before reaching over and pinching Tsumiki's arm.

Tsumiki blinked and pulled one earbud down.

“I'm sorry?”

“Whatever.” The girl rolled her eyes and dropped back into her seat. “You're all such weirdos.”

“And you're a nosy little bitch.”

“Teacher! Teacher! Megumi called me a mean-word!”

The teacher ignored them, remaining seated at the front of the bus. Tsumiki, however, immediately turned toward Megumi and smacked him lightly in the ribs.

“Megumi!”

“It’s called a swear word. What are you, five?” Megumi rolled his eyes. “But I can call you mean names if you want me to.”

“I’m telling the teacher!”

The girl stood up and hurried toward the front of the bus, her face scrunched into an exaggerated pout.

Tsumiki turned back toward Megumi and pushed him again.

“You can't say those words!” she hissed. “Those are grown-up words. It makes you sound like an oaf.”

“Gojo uses them,” Megumi stood his ground. “And he sure as hell ain’t grown-up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Megumi raised an eyebrow, folding his arms.

Tsumiki opened her mouth, then paused.

“Well…”

“He stepped on a Lego and called it slurs,” Megumi said, completely seriously. “That girl called you a weirdo. She was basically asking me to return the favor.”

Tsumiki frowned.

“Just because Gojo’s immature doesn't mean you have to be, too.”

“Better at being immature than not being able to stand up for yourself.”

Tsumiki opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say anything, a sharp scream tore through the bus.

Everyone froze.

Megumi's head snapped toward the front.

The girl who had gone to complain to the teacher was stumbling backward, one hand pressed against her face. A red mark was already beginning to spread across her cheek.

For a moment, Megumi assumed the teacher had hit her.

Then he saw the teacher.

She was still sitting in her seat.

Her head had fallen slightly to the side, her body unnaturally limp. She wasn't sleeping. Even from where he was sitting, something about her stillness looked wrong. Her eyes were half-lidded, and she didn't react to the girl's screaming.

Megumi's stomach tightened.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Two seats farther back, two men slowly stood up.

Neither of them belonged there.

One was broad-shouldered and dressed in dark clothes, while the other reached beneath his coat and pulled out a large weapon. The movement was deliberate, almost casual, as if they had done this before.

The bus went completely silent.

“Alright listen up, brats,” the first man said with a calm voice.

A little too calm for Megumi’s liking. 

“This is kidnapping.”

For a second, nobody reacted.

Then the children began whispering among themselves.

“What?”

“...Is he serious?”

“It’s probably a prank or a meme…”

A boy a few rows ahead slowly raised his hand.

“Excuse me?”

The man looked at him. 

“Yeah?”

“If this is a kidnapping, why are you telling us?” the boy asked, his voice wavering despite his attempt to sound reasonable. “Wouldn't it be more useful to not make us panic?”

A few nervous snickers escaped from the children.

The kidnapper let a strain smile curl on his lips.

“Great question.”

He slowly reached into his pocket.

Megumi's eyes followed the movement.

The man pulled out a gun.

Megumi's breath caught.

Before anyone could react, the gunshot exploded through the bus.

BANG.

The sound was deafening in the enclosed space.

The bullet struck the seat beside the boy's head.

He went completely white.

For a second, nobody moved.

Then the screaming started.

Tsumiki grabbed Megumi's sleeve.

Megumi could feel her fingers trembling.

The man calmly lowered the gun.

“Now,” he said, his fake smile disappearing, “any other smart questions?”

Silence.

Complete, terrified silence.

Children began crying. Someone was quietly sobbing into their hands. Another kid had ducked beneath their seat. Even the adults who had been whispering moments earlier were frozen, staring at the two men.

“Fantastic.”

The kidnapper sighed, as if they were all making his job unnecessarily difficult.

“Listen up. You all have one thing in common. Your parents are loaded. When they pay us, we'll return you to your families.”

Megumi looked at Tsumiki.

She was pale.

He could feel his own heart pounding, but he forced his voice to remain steady.

“It's fine,” he whispered.

Tsumiki looked at him.

“Gojo has trackers everywhere.”

He tried to sound confident.

He almost succeeded.

Almost.

The kidnappers began walking down the aisle, holding out a large bag.

“Now put all your phones and electronics in here.”

One of the men opened the bag and held it out.

Tsumiki swallowed.

“Didn't he put trackers in our phones?” she whispered nervously.

Megumi hesitated before nodding.

They both took out their phones and dropped them into the bag.

“The watches too.”

Megumi frowned.

Slowly, he removed his watch and placed it inside.

Tsumiki did the same.

Megumi watched the bag disappear down the aisle.

His stomach sank.

That was their last tracker.

When the kidnappers moved farther away, Tsumiki leaned closer to him.

She forced a small smile.

“Don't worry,” she whispered. “You have Mr. Dog with you, right? Gojo put a tracker in there too.”

Megumi's throat tightened.

The wolf stuffed toy, he got for his eight birthday.

Right.

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered back. 

“See? So we’re—”

“That’s why I left it at home.”

Her smile disappeared.

“You what?”

The words came out much louder than Tsumiki intended, as both kidnappers turned around.

Megumi and Tsumiki immediately looked away, pretending to be interested in the window.

After a few seconds, the men turned back around.

“Why would you do that?!” 

Tsumiki leaned toward him again, whisper-shouting angrily.

“I'm so tired of him checking on us and controlling our every movement,” Megumi whispered back. “I just wanted to have a little privacy.” 

“But that was our last tracker!”

“I didn’t know we were going to get kidnapped, okay?” Megumi snapped, keeping his face low. “You don’t usually plan that!”

“Hey!” 

Both children immediately went quiet.

One of the kidnappers had turned around again.

“Both of you. Shut up.”

Megumi lowered his gaze.

Tsumiki shrank back into her seat.

The man stared at them for another moment before finally turning away.

Neither of them spoke.

For the first time since the bus had stopped, Megumi became painfully aware of how quiet the engine sounded. How far they were from the city. How there was no Gojo standing outside the window, waving like an idiot. No phone in his pocket. No watch on his wrist. No Mr. Dog tucked inside his bag.

Nothing.

Tsumiki slowly reached for his hand beneath the edge of the seat and squeezed it.

“We are in so much trouble,” she whispered.

Megumi stared straight ahead.

“Yeah.”

Tsumiki swallowed.

“Fuck.”

Megumi squeezed her hand back.

“Yeah.”

When the bus finally came to a stop, at least an hour had passed since the kidnappers had first revealed themselves.

The bag containing their belongings was long gone. Megumi's best guess was that they'd thrown it somewhere along the way so their families could no longer use the shared location to track them. He had no idea where they were now. The windows showed nothing familiar, and after the first few minutes of driving, he'd stopped trying to guess where they were going.

The bus had become painfully quiet. Nobody dared to speak anymore. Only the occasional sniffle or muffled sob broke the silence, and even those sounds seemed to die almost immediately whenever one of the kidnappers looked in their direction. Some of the children were beginning to understand what kind of situation they were actually in. They weren't going home. Not yet, anyway.

The bus door suddenly flew open.

Several more masked men climbed inside.

The children flinched as they spread through the aisle, barking orders at them to move. One by one, they began selecting students, roughly grabbing them by their shoulders and arms before pulling black bags over their heads.

The children cried out in confusion and fear as they were dragged toward the door and shoved outside. Within moments, they were gone, leaving the remaining students huddled together in frightened silence.

Tsumiki's grip on Megumi's hand tightened.

He squeezed back.

Neither of them said anything.

After several long minutes of the kidnappers' shouting and the tension becoming so heavy that it felt difficult to breathe, they started selecting more children.

“You. You, and you. Move.”

A hand roughly grabbed Tsumiki by the shoulder.

She yelped.

“Wait, no—!”

Megumi reached for her immediately, but another kidnapper shoved him hard back into his seat. The force knocked the breath from his lungs before the man grabbed Tsumiki's wrist and pulled her toward the aisle.

“M-My sister. You have to take me too—”

His voice cracked.

Nobody listened.

Tsumiki was already being dragged toward the door.

“It's okay,” she said, looking back at him with a strained, frightened smile. “You're okay—”

Her voice became muffled as one of the men pulled a pitch-black bag over her head.

Megumi's stomach dropped.

He shot to his feet, ready to run after her, but one of the other masked men caught him by both arms and roughly forced him back down.

“No, that’s–that’s my sis—“

“I don’t give a fuck.” The man’s voice was cold and completely uninterested. He shoved Megumi back against the seat.  

“Shut up. Your turn will be soon.”

Megumi watched helplessly as they kept taking the children.

One after another, they were dragged from the bus, their frightened voices disappearing behind the closing doors. Megumi watched helplessly, his fingers curling into the fabric of his pants.

Should he summon his shikigamis?

There were so many non-sorcerers.

He shouldn’t.

He promised Gojo not to use his powers on the trip.

But Tsumiki was in danger.

Gojo had always told him never to use his technique in front of non-sorcerers unless it was a life-or-death situation.

Did this count as a life-or-death situation?

Megumi swallowed hard, his breath coming out shallow.

He turned around.

The girl sitting behind him was covering her mouth with both hands, desperately trying not to cry. A few rows farther back, some of the younger children were shifting nervously in their seats, too young and too clueless to fully understand what was happening.

That made Megumi's chest feel even tighter.

Then a black bag was suddenly pulled over his own head.

Darkness swallowed everything.

The fabric pressed against his face, carrying the stale smell of dust, sweat, and something chemical. He sucked in a breath and immediately regretted it. The air felt thick beneath the bag, and his head began to swim as someone grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him out of the bus.

His shoes scraped against the ground.

He stumbled, nearly falling, before another pair of hands caught him and shoved him forward.

Megumi couldn’t see anything.

He could only hear muffled voices around him, footsteps, doors opening and closing.

Then he was pushed into a cramped box, a vehicle?

A truck, maybe.

Gojo always told them not to go into a strangers vans, even if they said they knew him or they had candies and puppies… maybe this was one of the situations he was warning them about?

His shoulder bumped against someone else’s, and bodies shifted around him as the other children were loaded inside.

Tsumiki wasn’t there.

Megumi’s stomach twisted.

They needed to drive her away with the other kids.

His anxiety spiked at that thought.

Tsumiki was an amazing sister and he loved her more than anything, but she was a non-sorcerer. She never fought, refused to take any fight-classes with him and Gojo and was too kind and forgiving for her own good. The kidnapper could cut off her hands and she’d still find a reason to forgive them and apologize for making a mess.

He needed to find her.

He needed to be there for her, to protect her—

The doors slammed shut as the vehicle started moving.

They rode in silence.

Megumi's head swayed with every turn, his forehead eventually bumping against the wall behind him. His breathing became shallow as he tried to stay awake.

His head felt heavy, too heavy.

Was the bag poisoned?

Maybe there was some kind of drug on the fabric.

It would explain why he was the only one moving around while the other kids stayed unmoving and silent.

His thoughts became sluggish.

The sounds around him blurred together.

He was so sleepy…

Then everything went black.

When Megumi woke again, the first thing he noticed was light.

A harsh brightness flooded his vision as the bag was abruptly torn from his head.

He gasped, sucking in air as he recoiled from the sudden change.

The man standing in front of him blinked.

“Well, you're an early riser.”

Megumi frowned at him, still dazed.

The man turned away and shouted toward something to the others, but Megumi wasn’t listening.

Megumi’s attention drifted around the room. There were his classmates. They were scattered across the floor and seats around him, most of them still unconscious.

And Tsumiki—

He couldn't see her.

His heart lurched.

“…For at least an hour,” someone muttered. “No idea why the kid woke up.”

“You must've given him the wrong dose, you idiot!” the man in front of Megumi snapped.

“What?! Bullshit—“

“Where is she?” 

Megumi’s small voice cut through their argument.

Both men turned.

For a moment, they simply stared at him, almost as if they’d forgotten he was awake.

“Oh right.” The second man pushed his way toward him, crouching down in front of Megumi. “Sleep.”

His hand came up with a wet sheet.

Megumi barely had time to flinch before the man’s palm stuffed the sheet in front of his mouth, making him almost gag.

He tried to move his head around, breathing through his nose, but the man’s other hand held his nose. After few seconds of struggling he reluctantly took a deep breath through the wet sheet, feeling the overwhelming flavor of toxins explode though his skull.

The room spun, moving under his feet.

“...should be…ill and eleph…”

His vision blurred, his mind unfocused.

Then everything disappeared again.

The next time Megumi woke, his head was pounding.

Something cold pressed against his wrists.

And someone was calling his name.

“…Gumi?”

Megumi’s eyes fluttered.

Gojo?

He snapped his head toward the voice.

Tsumiki.

She was sitting in a chair across from him. 

So close, yet so far.

For one horrible second, Megumi couldn’t breathe.

She was okay, she was alive. Her hair was messy, her ponytail barely holding together, and there were tears dried along her cheeks, but she was there. 

“Are you alright?” she asked worriedly, looking him over.

Megumi opened his mouth to answer.

Then he realized he couldn't move his hands.

Both wrists were tied behind his back, the rope pulled so tightly that it bit into his skin. His body was stiffly secured to the chair, leaving him barely enough room to shift.

He looked around.

The other children were there too.

Some were tied to chairs. Others were lying against the walls, still unconscious or only half-awake.

In the corner of the room, their homeroom teacher was tied to a chair. Duct tape covered her mouth, and her head hung forward. She hadn't moved since Megumi had opened his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled hesitantly. “You?”

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly, glancing over the room. “But some of the others… I’m not sure how they’re doing. Miss Suzuki hasn’t moved in a long time.”

Megumi’s eyes quickly skipped to their teachers body, before returning back.

“She’s alive,” her chest was moving. “I-I think.”

Tsumiki nodded, as if she fingered as much.

The room was dark.

There were no windows.

The air was thick and stale, carrying the smell of cigarettes and damp concrete.

They were probably in a basement. A pretty large one, considering they’d managed to fit all of their classmates inside.

Megumi’s gaze moved toward the only visible exit. Two armed men stood in front of the doors, smoking.

Another two sat among the children. 

They were trapped.

His heart began beating faster.

He needed to get out.

He needed to call Gojo.

He’d know what to do.

Megumi started shifting his hands behind his back, carefully testing the ropes. He just needed to get them loose.

Then he could summon his shikigami and get out.

Fighting the kidnappers might not be the smartest idea, but Divine Dogs on the other hand? Those two could help. No tracker after all was better than Kuro and Shiro.

He just needed to get out of the ropes.

Easy enough.

Right?

After several seconds of struggling to form the hand sign behind his back, Megumi realized it wasn't going to work.

He would have to do it in front of him.

“What are you doing?”

Tsumiki whispered, her brow furrowing. 

Megumi didn’t spare her a glance, rolling his eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to get us in trouble,” she whispered sharply. “Stop fidgeting so much, or they’re going to notice you.”

“Well I’m trying to get some help, I’m sorry if it’s bothering you.” 

Tsumiki huffed and leaned back against her chair. 

“Kuro and Shiro?”

Megumi nodded.

His hands were still struggling against the rope.

The kidnappers were good.

The rope had been tied tightly enough that his thin wrists couldn't simply slip free. Every time he pulled, the fibers dug deeper into his skin.

With a quiet curse, Megumi forced one hand against his thumb.

He took a slow breath.

Then he pushed.

Pain shot through his hand.

A small, involuntary hiss escaped him as his thumb slipped out of place.

His eyes watered immediately, but the rope had finally loosened just enough.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled his hand free.

His fingers trembled with pain as he reached for his other wrist.

He could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he tried to set his thumb back into place.

It hurt. 

It hurt so much more than movies and books made it sound like.

He couldn’t understand how Gojo made it all look so easy and so painless whenever he had a dislocated shoulder or he needed to regrow a limb.

Doing it blind made everything even worse–but he couldn't let the kidnappers know he’d escaped.

If they discovered what he was doing now, he might not get another chance.

After a few painful moments, he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t set his thumb back to normal, and instead decided on untying his other wrist with four fingers.

Every single brush against the thumb hurt, but he gulped down the wines and keep his face natural.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” 

A girl beside him whispered angrily.

Megumi turned.

Shit.

It was the girl from behind him on the bus.

The very annoying and loud girl from the bus.

“I’m trying to get us out of here,” he whispered. “Please stay quiet.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?!” 

She said it far too loudly.

Megumi's expression dropped.

“Youre gonna get us all caught, idiot!”

“I wouldn’t, if you shut. Up.” 

He gave her a sharp side-eye.

His palm throbbed.

He knew it would need to be looked at afterward. Aunt Shoko was going to be furious when she saw what he'd done to himself.

Assuming he got out.

Megumi quickly and quietly brought his hands around to the front.

“Divine Dogs,” he whispered.

His eyes flicked toward the kidnappers.

They were distracted.

Good.

Two small, shadowy dogs appeared beside him, their ears twitching as they looked up at their master.

Megumi swallowed.

“I need you to–”

“…Is he hallucinating?” The girl whispered, staring at him with a grimace. “I feel like he’s ignoring me. Are you?”

“Don’t distract him,” Tsumiki replied, her voice gentle but final. “He needs to concentrate.”

“Oh shut up, I was talking to myself. Nobody asked you.” 

Tsumiki flinched.

Megumi’s jaw tightened.

“Find—“

“What is going on here?” 

A firm voice sounded directly behind them.

Everyone froze.

Megumi slowly turned.

One of the kidnappers was standing there.

Fuck.

“I swear I don’t know them—I have nothing to do with this—” the girl immediately began babbling.

Megumi barely heard her.

“Find—“ 

The man grabbed his wrists.

“When did you manage to break loose?”

His voice was low, his face scrunched in cold anger.

“First the drug, now this?” He stared at Megumi's hands, then at the ropes lying loose around the chair. “Are you trying to be a nuisance on purpose?”

Megumi gulped as the Divine Dogs growled in warning. Their fur bristled as they stood between Megumi and the man.

But it was useless.

Non-sorcerers could see jack-shit from his technique.

He could tell the dogs to hurt him, to protect Megumi and the other kids… but how would he explain the situation to them? What would the police say?

That all the kidnappers suddenly happened to be bit by invisible dogs?

Megumi lowered his gaze.

Find him.

Find Dad.

“Mr. Kidnapper?” Tsumiki's tiny voice came from behind the man. 

The man’s head tilted slightly.

“Could you please leave my little brother alone?” She gulped, her voice trembling. “I’m really sorry about him. He wouldn’t repeat it, I promise.”

The man looked at her.

Then at Megumi.

The silence stretched.

Megumi stared at his dogs; one small movement of his fingers.

That was all he needed.

The dogs slowly began backing away, still growling at the man as their forms dissolved in nearest shadow.

Good.

Great.

He wasn’t sure how far and how long he was able to scratch his technique, but he hoped it was enough to get Gojo here.

His heart almost dropped from the relief that washed over him.

The man’s hand tightened around Megumi’s wrist.

“Oh, he’s not going to,” A smile spread across his face. “We’re going to make sure of it.” 

His fist struck Megumi in the side of the head.

The impact sent his vision black.

For a second, he couldn't hear anything.

Then the room rushed back all at once.

His head was pounding.

Oh.

That hurt.

He barely had time to breathe before another blow landed, harder this time.

Pain burst around his eye.

His vision disappeared on that side, swallowed by a wave of white before everything blurred.

Another strike landed, as his head snapped sideways.

His nose burned.

Hot tears spilled from his eyes before he could stop them.

He couldn't think.

There was too much pain everywhere.

His head, his eye, his nose, his thumb…

He couldn’t tell what hurt the most.

“—gumi!” Tsumiki’s voice sounded distant. “M-Megumi! Are you okay?!” 

He tried to answer but nothing came out.

The only audible sound he could make was a painful hiss when the man roughly pushed past him.

It was pathetic.

Megumi was the Ten Shadows user… and he fought to stay conscious.

The man grabbed his wrists again and yanked them tighter behind him.

Pain shot through his arms as the ropes dug into his skin.

Megumi left out an involuntary gasp, as the room swayed.

Did his head hurt normally like this?

He couldn't remember.

He forced his eyes to meet Tsumiki’s, she was still talking and talking…

“—help you, don’t worry…” his sister continued to reassure him with trembling voice, but his mind drifted.

He really tried to focus on it.

He needed to stay awake.

He needed to make sure she was okay.

The girl beside him was shaking violently, her mouth opening and closing as she whispered something he couldn’t understand.

Megumi blinked slowly.

His right eye was already swelling shut.

He was probably going to have a black eye.

Aunt Shoko will kill him. Right after she kills Gojo, that is.

He let out a quiet snicker, but the thought seemed strangely distant.

His head felt too heavy, his thoughts were slipping away from him.

He hoped the dogs had found him.

He hoped Gojo would come.

Gojo would know what to do.

Megumi's eyelids grew heavier.

He missed him.

The curse was supposed to be Grade One.

Of course, as always, the higher-ups had gotten the grading wrong. Again.

Gojo could imagine that anyone else in his shoes would be in serious danger, though he felt mostly…

Annoyed.

Yeah, that was the right word.

It was a semi-Special Grade, still too weak to qualify as a true Special Grade but far too strong to be considered Grade One. Give it a few days, and it would probably become a Special Grade for real.

But that wasn't what annoyed him the most. 

Nope, not really.

The curse was slippery.

In every sense of the word.

Every time Gojo reached for it, the thing slipped away, its body dissolving between his fingers before he could land a proper hit. He could easily use Blue or Red to finish it off, but after repeated reminders from Yaga, he was trying to work on his property-destruction habits.

Apparently, exorcising a curse wasn't enough to make everyone happy when he destroyed the entire building in the process.

Gojo dragged a hand down his face and let out an exhausted groan.

“You're fucking annoying, you know that?”

He lunged for the curse again.

And… he missed.

“Do you even understand me, you little shit? Who am I kidding, of course not,” He kicked at it as it floated just out of reach. “Just die already!”

He was so fucking done with this shit.

All he wanted was to lie down, put on some rom-com, and eat an obscene amount of ice cream.

But this dumb curse just refused to—

A familiar presence brushed against his senses.

His entire body went still.

His head snapped through a small window to the dark forest surrounding the building just as a lone black wolf emerged between the trees.

What the hell was Shiro—

Megumi.

The wolf bounded toward him, its paws barely making a sound against the forest floor skipping near the building. It ignored the curse snapping at Gojo's Infinity and came straight for him, its dark eyes fixed on his face. 

Gojo's stomach dropped.

Where were Megumi and Tsumiki?

There was no way Megs would just summon his shikigami for shits and giggles.

Was he in danger?!

Fuck.

He knew he shouldn't have let them go. He knew it was dangerous—

He crouched, catching the wolf by its shoulders. Shiro whined and nudged his hand, restless and agitated. There was something wrong. Gojo could feel it in the frantic movement of the dog's cursed energy, in the way it kept turning its head toward the road.

“Hey.” His voice came out sharper than he intended. “Where are they?”

Shiro couldn't answer.

Of course he couldn't answer. He was a fucking dog.

Gojo pulled out his phone so quickly he nearly dropped it. His fingers flew across the screen as he checked the trackers installed on the children's belongings.

The signals appeared somewhere along a road through Tokyo.

Neither was moving.

Gojo stared at the screen.

He refreshed it, waiting for anything. As if the numbers might suddenly rearrange themselves into something that made sense. 

But as expected, they didn’t.

His throat tightened.

No.

No, no, no, no no no no no no no no no no

NO

He'd told them to stay together. He'd told them not to go anywhere dangerous without someone watching them. He'd made sure the trackers were working before they'd left.

He'd done everything he was supposed to do.

So why the fuck weren't they moving?

The curse let out an ugly shriek behind him.

Gojo didn’t even bother looking back.

“Blue.”

The space around his outstretched hand warped. With a piercing screech, the curse was dragged into the swirling blue orb and dissolved, its body crumpling in on itself until nothing remained.

Before the hole could cuck them in, he scooped Shiro into his arms, locked onto the last recorded location, leaving the crumbling building behind him.

Whoever had taken the children had made a very serious mistake.

Gojo would find them.

And then he would make sure everybody knew how much of a bad idea was to piss him off.

The bus sat abandoned on the side of the road.

Gojo appeared several meters away, Shiro held tightly against his chest. For one hopeful second, he expected to see the children climbing out, Tsumiki scolding Megumi for wandering off, or their teacher trying to herd the rest of the class back inside.

There was nobody.

The bus doors hung open. One of the windows was cracked and a schoolbag lay abandoned in the dirt beside the road. A few meters farther away, something dark stained the gravel.

Gojo approached it slowly.

Blood.

Not much. He crouched, touching two fingers to the stain. It was still fresh.

His expression emptied.

“...Shit.”

He rose and scanned the surrounding area. The road stretched in both directions, bordered by dense trees and patches of overgrown grass. No passing cars. No pedestrians. No teacher frantically searching the woods.

Just an abandoned bus and a group of missing children.

Gojo stepped inside.

“Hello?” he called, though he already knew nobody would answer.

The empty seats stared back at him.

A lunchbox had spilled beneath one of them. A little jacket lay crumpled in the aisle. There were scratches along the floor near the rear doors, as though someone had been dragged or had desperately tried to hold on to something.

Gojo's jaw tightened.

He understood why someone might target Megumi and Tsumiki. Megumi possessed the Ten Shadows Technique, and Tsumiki was his sister. They could be used as leverage, bait, or bargaining chips.

But the other children?

Their teacher?

Why take an entire busload of kids?

Unless they hadn't wanted to leave witnesses.

The thought settled in his stomach like a stone.

He pulled out his phone again. The trackers still showed the same location. No movement. No new signal.

He tried calling Megumi.

The call went straight to voicemail.

So he tried Tsumiki. Then their teacher. Then the owner of the camp they were supposed to stay in.

Nothing.

For a moment, Gojo simply stood there, staring at the screen. His grip tightened until the plastic casing creaked faintly beneath his fingers.

A quick bullet struck his Infinity. The projectile stopped dead in front of his face, only few centimeters from his eyelashes.

Gojo didn't move, staring at it for a second. 

Then he slowly closed his eyes.

Of all the fucking times.

A long, exhausted sigh escaped him as he turned around.

“Really, Toji?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were over this.”

Toji stood a short distance away, his gun still raised. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze flicked over Gojo before moving toward the bus.

Behind him, Kuro came trotting out of the trees, heading straight for Shiro.

“...Just making sure you're staying sharp,” Toji said.

Gojo stared at him in disbelief. Then, he pointed at the bullet hanging in the air.

“You do realize normal bullets are useless right?” He felt the need to remind him. “You’re just wasting amo.”

As if it wasn’t the same man who killed him before.

The monster that assassinated kids for money and started Suguru’s path to self-destruction. They both almost killed each other, and knew better then this.

“Never know when you get lucky.” Toji, unaware of the thunder of emotions in his heart, shrugged as if it was just another one of his horse-races. 

Gojo was going to kill him.

“I'm going to kill you.”

Toji scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Get in line.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

For a moment, neither moved. Then Toji lowered his gun, his attention shifting back to the abandoned bus.

“What happened here?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” he snapped. “I'm a little busy right now, so whatever stupid rematch you've been fantasizing about can wait.”

He turned away, checking the bus again.

Toji appeared beside him almost instantly.

“No can do.”

Gojo's eye twitched.

“I swear to God—”

“I left you alone because you made a promise,” Toji interrupted. “A promise you haven't kept.”

Gojo turned so sharply that Shiro lifted his head in alarm.

“I'm working on it, you asshole!” His voice cracked through the empty road. “And fuck you. You're a way shittier father than I could ever be, so give me some credit!”

Toji's expression hardened.

It was the kind of glare that would make even the most powerful sorcerers tremble in fear. With the solo exception of Satoru Gojo, of course. 

Gojo just rolled his eyes and pushed Toji stumbling back.

Too bad Gojo didn’t care less about the old man’s pride.

“Where are they?” Toji asked.

If Gojo didn’t know any better he’d say he could hear the slightest tone of fear.

Was he seriously worried about the kids he sold off to the Zenin clan?

A little too late to act like a caring Dad.

Nonetheless, Gojo’s anger faltered.

“The trackers went dead here,” he answered, forcing his voice back under control. “The bus is empty. There's blood on the road and nobody's answering their phones.”

Toji's jaw flexed.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Gojo felt the buried anger bubble in his chest. “Then why do you even ask?”

“Just checking,” he shrugged. “Did you check the surrounding area?”

“I'm getting to that.”

“Then stop just standing around.”

Gojo took one step toward him.

“Say that again.”

Toji didn't back down. “You heard me.”

For a heartbeat, it looked as though one of them might actually throw the first punch. Gojo could already imagine how satisfying it would be to knock Toji into the nearest tree.

Then Shiro whined against his chest.

Both men looked down.

The wolf had stopped trying to nuzzle Kuro. His ears were pinned back, and his attention was fixed on the forest beyond the road.

Kuro had gone still, too.

Toji's entire posture changed. The lazy slouch vanished, replaced by something sharper. He crouched beside the dogs, holding out his hand for Kuro to sniff before running his fingers briefly over the animal's head.

The dogs.

Obviously, they didn’t need to find an exact route, the dogs will take them there anyway.

“Look, if you’re just going to make everything difficult then leave.” Gojo crouched briefly beside the open bus door, looking for any sign of a struggle. “Megumi called me. I will help him, even if that means killing you for good.”

As far as Gojo knew, Toji had been allowed to keep tabs on the kids because Gojo had felt sorry for him. The man hadn't exactly made an effort to be a father. He'd never tried to reach out to them or take part in their lives.

So how the hell had he found out about their disappearance before Gojo had?

“You’re spouting nonsense. Megs called me.” Toji pointed at himself, as though that somehow made his claim more convincing.

Gojo slowly straightened and stared at him.

“...His dog came to me,” he explained, speaking with the exaggerated patience of someone addressing a particularly stupid child.

“Bullshit.” Toji raised an eyebrow. “He came to me.”

Gojo threw his hands into the air. “How the fuck do you even know he has dogs?”

“Who do you think named them?” Toji frowned at him. “Megumi has the Ten Shadows Technique. Obviously he has Divine Dogs.”

Gojo glared at him.

Then he looked at the two wolves, who were happily sniffing each other as though their respective humans weren't busy arguing over who'd been contacted first.

“...You're telling me you named them?”

Toji ignored the question and stood, brushing dirt off his knees.

Gojo looked down at Shiro, then at Kuro, then back at Toji.

“You named them Kuro and Shiro? Black and white? Seriously? Those are stupid names. How do you even know which is which?”

“...I can sense it.”

Gojo's mouth fell open.

“...You're so fucking weird.”

“You're one to talk.”

“I'm not the one naming supernatural dogs like I'm choosing paint colors,” Gojo scoffed. “I thought it was impressive for a three-year-old. But you?”

Toji's eyes narrowed. “What would you have named them, genius?”

“Probably something way cooler.”

“Oh yeah? What.” Toji looked seconds away from summoning the Inverted Spear of Heaven from thin air and cutting him open.

Gojo opened his mouth.

Then, despite everything, the abandoned bus, the blood on the road, the dead trackers, his expression brightened with the kind of terrible inspiration that usually preceded a disaster.

“Oreos.”

The awkward silence stretched, as Toji stared at him with creased eyebrows.

“Oreas, as in: Oreo number one and Oreo number two,” Gojo continued, ignoring Toji’s judgemental presence. “Oreo number one, would mean the two black parts, that would be Shiro. And then Oreo number two, would be the sugar filling in the middle—”

“You’re an idiot.” Toji cut him off. “And I’m even bigger idiot for letting you look after my kids.”

“You mean my kids.” Gojo corrected him and the almost friendly atmosphere immediately shifted back.

“They got kidnapped under your care, I wouldn’t be so proud of myself in your place.” Toji bit back.

Oh, he wanted to play dirty? Alright two can play this game.

“At least they got kidnapped without my knowledge. It’s still better then selling them off to the same clan that tortured me—”

A knife striking his Infinity made his grin spread.

“Did I hit a nerve?” Gojo winked innocently. “Don't make me regret keeping you alive, Zenin.” 

Toji took a step toward him, and Gojo shifted his weight instinctively. For one ugly second, their old hostility rose between them, familiar as breathing.

Then Toji looked past him at the bus.

His expression changed again.

“Enough.”

Gojo's grin vanished.

Toji pointed toward the road. “We can kill each other later. Right now, the kids are missing.”

The words landed harder than Gojo expected.

He glanced down at his phone. The trackers remained frozen on the screen. He could almost feel the minutes slipping away, each one another opportunity for the people who had taken the children to get farther ahead.

He hated Toji.

He hated his arrogance, his evasiveness, his stupid face, and the fact that he could walk into a situation like this and still manage to get under Gojo's skin in under thirty seconds.

But Toji was right.

And Gojo hated that most of all.

“Fine,” he said tightly. “Temporary truce.”

Toji raised an eyebrow. “You think I want to spend any more time with you than necessary?”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Then we agree.”

“Until we find them,” Gojo clarified, pointing a finger at Toji's chest. “After that, you're back to being the most insufferable piece of shit I've ever met.”

Toji knocked his hand aside.

“Likewise, Six Eyes.”

“Fuck you.”

“No. Fuck you.”

Gojo's fingers twitched.

Toji's mouth curled faintly.

“Later,” he reminded him.

Gojo took a slow breath through his nose, then shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Toji wasn't looking at him anymore. His attention had shifted to the road ahead, his eyes scanning the treeline and the distant bend in the highway. His hand rested near his weapon, but he wasn't reaching for it.

He was ready to move.

Ready to find them.

Gojo knew that look. He'd seen it in himself often enough.

Whatever else Toji was, he wasn't going to sit around while Megumi and Tsumiki were in danger.

Neither was Gojo.

He crouched to let Shiro down. The wolf immediately trotted over to Kuro, and the two Divine Dogs stood side by side, their noses lifted toward the forest as they caught the scent of their summoner.

Gojo watched them for a moment, his expression growing more serious.

“Since they're still intact and managed to travel this far, Megumi can't be too far away. And he's alive,” he said, more to reassure himself than Toji. “His range is still developing, though. Maintaining the technique over a long distance is a work in progress.”

“Then the curse users who took them are amateurs,” Toji replied. “Megumi had to use hand signs to summon the dogs. They should've noticed. And even if they didn't, they should've seen the damn things leaving.”

Toji glanced toward the forest, his expression grim. “Unless they were too busy keeping an eye on the other kids.”

Gojo's jaw tightened at the thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets, restless energy making it difficult to stand still.

“We need to move. If Megumi gets too tired, he might lose control of the technique and the dogs will disappear.”

Toji nodded, his attention already fixed on the trail ahead.

“I hate to admit it, but I agree.”

“That’s the first smart thing I heard you say.”

“I will shoot you.”

The threat was empty, though Gojo still couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Toji ignored him and gave a sharp whistle.

The Divine Dogs surged forward, racing off the road and into the trees. Gojo followed immediately, cursed energy gathering around him as he moved. Toji kept pace at his side, his expression grim and his eyes constantly scanning the ground for any sign of a trail.

Neither of them slowed down.

The Divine Dogs led them deeper into the forest, weaving between the trees with their noses close to the ground. Gojo and Toji followed close behind, moving quickly enough that neither bothered wasting their breath on insults.

For once, Gojo was grateful for the silence.

Every second they spent searching was another second Megumi and Tsumiki had to endure whatever the hell was happening to them. He kept his attention on the dogs, occasionally glancing at his phone out of habit, even though the trackers hadn’t moved.

He hated that.

He hated not knowing where they were. Hated not being able to see them, to hear them, to know whether they were hurt.

And he especially hated that Toji was right there, feeling the same thing.

Eventually, the trees began to thin. A squat, run-down building emerged through the branches, its windows dark and its walls partially hidden behind overgrown vegetation. It looked abandoned, the kind of place no one would think twice about passing.

Which, Gojo supposed, made it an excellent place to hide a group of kidnapped children.

The Divine Dogs slowed near the edge of the clearing. Kuro lifted his head, ears pricked forward, while Shiro let out a low growl.

Gojo stopped beside them, his gaze fixed on the building.

“There,” he murmured.

Toji’s eyes swept over the structure, taking in the windows, the side entrance, and the narrow path leading around the back. His expression gave nothing away, but Gojo could practically hear the calculations turning over in his head.

“Looks cozy,” Gojo remarked. “Should we knock? Maybe they’ll offer us tea.”

“Keep talking and I’ll leave you here.”

“You’d miss me too much.” Gojo scoffed. “Or at least certain two little angels you know would.”

Toji ignored him and started toward the building. Gojo followed, recalling the Divine Dogs before they could draw any unnecessary attention. They would need to be ready if the situation turned ugly.

Not that he expected anything else.

They had barely reached the entrance when a man stepped out from around the corner. He was dressed in dark clothes, with a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. His gaze flicked over the two of them, lingering on Gojo’s white hair before shifting to Toji.

Huh.

Not even a glance at growling Divine dogs. There wasn’t a lick of cursed energy in that man's body. Not a curse user after all.

He looked annoyed rather than alarmed.

“Private property,” the man said. “You two lost?”

“Terribly,” Gojo answered brightly. “We were looking for a playground, but this place has such a lovely atmosphere. Do you have any recommendations?”

The man stared at him.

Toji looked like he was seriously considering killing Gojo himself.

“Get lost,” the guard snapped. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Really? That’s funny.” Gojo tilted his head. “Because we were looking for two children, and someone told me they might be here.”

The man’s expression shifted. It was brief, barely more than a tightening around the eyes, but Gojo caught it.

So did Toji.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said, taking a step forward. “Now get the fuck out before I—”

Toji moved.

One moment, he was standing beside Gojo. The next, he had the man by the throat, slamming him against the wall hard enough to knock the cigarette from his fingers.

“Try that sentence again,” Toji said quietly.

The man grabbed at Toji’s wrist, choking on whatever threat he’d been about to make.

Gojo sighed. “And here I was, trying to be polite.”

“Shut up, brat.”

“See?” Gojo sighed.”This is why nobody likes you.”

Toji tightened his grip just enough to make the man’s face redden.

“Where are the kids?”

“I—I don’t—”

Toji’s expression darkened.

“Wrong answer.”

Gojo stepped closer, his smile still in place, though there was nothing remotely friendly about it now.

“Listen, we’re in a bit of a hurry. So I’d recommend telling my friend here what he wants to know before he gets creative.”

“I’m not your friend,” Toji growled.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Gojo smiled sweetly. “My very useless and deadly co-parent if you will.”

Toji didn’t bother correcting him this time, though the raised eyebrow he sent his way said enough.

The guard’s eyes darted between them. Whatever he saw on their faces finally convinced him that playing dumb wasn’t going to help.

“Inside,” he rasped. “They’re inside. Down the hall.”

Gojo’s smile vanished.

“Such a good boy.”

Toji released him with a shove. The man stumbled against the wall, coughing and clutching his throat, only for Toji to grab him again and slam him face-first into the floor.

Before the man could even think to scream for help, Toji brought his heel down on his face with a sickening crunch, crushing bone beneath his shoe.

A muffled, piercing scream filled the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of breaking bones. Toji slowly lifted his foot, revealing a face that was almost beyond recognition.

“Killing civilians, tsk, tsk.” Gojo clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “And you couldn’t even leave anything for me, could you?”

His tone was playful as he bent down and picked up the phone the man had been desperately reaching for with trembling fingers.

Gojo didn’t even bother looking at him. He simply kicked the man’s hand aside, earning another small, pained moan.

“He’ll live,” Toji replied dryly.

“If you can call that living.” Gojo scoffed, crushing the phone effortlessly in his hand. “At least he’ll have a souvenir to remember us by.”

Toji didn’t find that funny.

They left the groaning man behind, neither of them sparing him another glance.

They had children to find.

The entrance opened onto a narrow corridor. The air smelled stale, with a faint metallic tang underneath it that made Gojo’s stomach tighten. There were voices somewhere deeper inside, followed by the scrape of furniture and a child’s muffled sob.

Gojo went very still.

Toji noticed. His jaw clenched, and for once, he didn’t make a single comment.

They followed the corridor to a pair of heavy doors. The Divine Dogs’ growls echoed faintly from behind them, as though even the shikigami could sense what waited on the other side.

Gojo stopped in front of the doors.

For a moment, neither man moved.

“Do you have a plan?” Gojo asked.

“Not to kill any children.” Toji shook his head. “But that’s optional.”

“Not on my watch.” Gojo sighed, like a tired babysitter.

”Well what about you? Do you have a plan?” Toji frowned at his dismissal.

“Sure I do.”

Gojo threw the doors wide open.

“Freestyle.”

The room beyond was chaos.

Several men were scattered around what looked like an old storage room, some armed, others scrambling to their feet at the sudden intrusion. A handful of children huddled near the far wall, watched over by two men who immediately reached for their weapons.

“Who the fuck are you?” one of the kidnappers yelled.

“Satoru!” Tsumiki cried out.

Her voice cut straight through the room, and Gojo’s attention snapped toward her. She was alive. Frightened, shaken, but alive. Relief hit him so hard it almost made his knees weak.

Almost.

“Is that your older brother?” another kidnapper demanded, already scrambling for his gun. “How the fuck did he find us?”

Gojo’s gaze settled on the man’s hand as it closed around the weapon.

He didn’t kill non-sorcerers.

That was his rule.

Luckily, Toji had never seemed particularly interested in following anyone else’s rules.

Gojo’s smile returned, bright and utterly false.

“I’m here to pick up my kids,” he deadpanned.

“My kids,” Toji corrected him, stepping out of the shadow behind him.

Gojo rolled his eyes.

“Can you not do this right now?”

“Can you not steal credit for shit you didn’t do?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. If I sell them will I be considered parent enough for you?”

Toji’s eyes turned icy. 

“You want a bullet in your head?”

Gojo’s maniacal grin widened.

“Try me, bitch.”

“Dad?!”

Tsumiki’s voice broke through their bickering.

She stared at Toji as if she couldn’t quite believe he was real. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a shaky breath, both her hands tied behind her back. Tears dripping down her eyes that made Gojo’s heart clench.

“Dad!” she gasped again.

For the briefest moment, Toji’s expression cracked.

It was barely noticeable—a tightening around his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unguarded—but Gojo saw it.

Then a kidnapper raised his gun.

And the moment was over.

“What the hell did you do with Mori?!” one of the kidnappers shouted from beneath his mask.

Gojo tore his eyes away from Toji and turned to face him.

“Oh, is that what the guy out front was called?” He blinked innocently before tossing the broken pieces of his phone toward their feet. “We’re not monsters. He’s still alive, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

Toji scoffed, an easy smile slipping onto his face as the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“Though you might wanna call an ambulance, just in case,” Gojo added with a huff.

The kidnappers exchanged uneasy glances.

It seemed, they were finally starting to realize that the two men standing in their doorway weren’t particularly concerned about the number of guns pointed at them.

Good.

Gojo’s smile remained in place, but his attention had already shifted elsewhere.

Megumi.

The boy was sitting on a chair, both arms tied behind his back. His uniform was dirty and rumpled, his hair matted against his forehead. A dark bruise spread across his cheek, and blood had dried along the side of his face. His breathing was shallow, each movement seeming to hurt.

Unlike the other kids, he was the only one physically hurt. Yet he was still stubbornly holding the form of Divine Dogs.

Gojo was so goddamn proud of him.

He had seen Megumi come home with scraped knees, bruised knuckles, and the occasional bump from playing too roughly. He'd scolded him for being reckless, patched him up, and threatened to confiscate his shikigami if he ever let himself get hurt doing something stupid again.

But this was different, someone had deliberately hurt a child who was supposed to be under Gojo’s protection.

Someone had laid their hands on his kid.

The room seemed to narrow around him.

The smile on Toji’s face had disappeared, glancing in the same direction.

Oh, he was fucking pissed.

“Which one of you did that?” Gojo asked.

His voice was almost pleasant.

No one answered.

One of the kidnappers shifted his gun toward Gojo’s chest. “Put your hands where I can see them! Both of you! Now!”

Gojo glanced at the gun, then back at the man holding it.

“Aw, c’mon. I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“See, now that’s just rude, you should watch your language in front of little kids.”

Toji let out a low chuckle.

It wasn't an amused sound. It was the sort of laugh that made the hair on the back of one's neck stand up. “You're wasting your time, Six Eyes.”

“Oh, I know.” Gojo tilted his head. “I was just giving them a chance to repent.”

“Would it make any difference?”

Gojo's grin sharpened.

“Nah, not really.”

The first gunshot rang out.

The bullet stopped inches from Gojo’s forehead, suspended in the air by Infinity.

For half a second, the room fell silent.

Then everyone started shouting at once.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

“SHOOT THEM!”

“GET THE KIDS!”

Several kidnappers opened fire.

The room erupted in gunfire, the sharp reports bouncing off the walls as bullets tore through the air. Gojo didn't even flinch. The rounds halted harmlessly around him, leaving him standing in the middle of the chaos like he'd wandered into the wrong room and found it mildly inconvenient.

Toji, on the other hand, was already moving.

He ducked beneath a burst of gunfire, crossed the distance between himself and the nearest kidnapper, and drove his fist into the man's stomach. The man doubled over. Toji seized him by the back of the neck and hurled him into two others, sending all three crashing into a pile of overturned chairs.

“Gojo!” Toji barked.

“Yeah, yeah, I see them!”

Gojo shot forward.

He could have ended the fight in seconds. He could have crushed the entire room beneath the force of his cursed technique and left nothing standing.

But there were children everywhere.

Some were crying. Others had pressed themselves against the walls, trying to make themselves as small as possible. A few were too frightened to move at all.

But most importantly, all of them were tied to fucking chairs, so even if they had the chance, they couldn’t duc in font of bullets.

What a pain.

Seconds later, Gojo spotted the teacher.

She was on the floor near the children, her wrists bound behind her back. Her face was pale, a bruise darkening one cheek, but she was conscious and trying to keep the children gathered close to her.

Gojo changed direction immediately.

“Sensei!”

The teacher jerked her head up.

For a moment, she looked at him in confusion. Then her eyes widened in recognition.

She tried to talk to him, but the duct tape covering her mouth let through only muffled noises.

“Oh, yeah–” Gojo ripped it off as gently as he could, keeping his smile on. “You were saying?”

“Gojo-san?” She blinked, confused. “Is-Is that you?”

“Hi!” He dropped into a crouch in front of her, as if they’d bumped into each other at the supermarket rather than in the middle of a hostage situation. “Wow, this is embarrassing. I was hoping our next meeting would be under less stressful circumstances.”

She stared at him.

“Are you serious?”

“Painfully. Also, before you say anything, I know I missed the last two parent-teacher conferences.”

“Gojo.”

“And I know Megumi and Tsumiki have had a few absences lately, but in my defense—”

“Gojo.”

“—the paperwork is really confusing, and the school keeps sending everything to the wrong address—”

“GOJO.”

He paused.

The teacher gave him a flat look.

“Get me out of the ropes.”

Gojo blinked.

Smiling with a relief.

“Sure can do.”

He pulled a small blade from his pocket and cut through the ropes binding her wrists before moving on to the children. His hands were quick and precise, slicing through knots and restraints as he worked his way down the line.

He briefly stopped at shaking Tsumiki.

“...Gojo? What is happening?” she whispered, as he cut off the ropes holding her back. “I-I–why is my Dad here?”

Gojo turned around to follow her gaze to Toji, currently slamming a chair repeatedly against a guys head.

Yikes.

Maybe he was the one who hurt Megs?

Toji briefly turned around, for a split-second making an eye-contact with his daughter, and then immediately turning back around ignoring her.

Fucking coward.

“I thought he left,” Tsumiki frowned. “Why is he… he’s ignoring me.”

“Tsu, sweetheart, I need you to look at me, okay?” Gojo pulled her attention back from the gruesome scene to himself. She glanced at him with unsure eyes.

“Look, your Dad is…” an asshole, a fucking serial murder, a monster, “...a complicated person. The important thing is, he came here to help me save you.”

He held her by her shoulders, making sure to glance into her eyes.

She needed to understand.

“I’m proud of you for staying so strong, you’re amazing girl and me and Megumi love you very much.” He smiled at her. “But right now, I need you to help your teacher to get all the kids out of here, can you do that for me?”

Tsumiki nodded immediately.

“Great!” Gojo grinned, ruffling her already messy hair. “Don’t worry, we will talk with your Dad later, but right now we need to make sure everyone is safe. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded, as he gave her the small knife for cutting ropes.

“Megumi!” She remembered quickly. “He—he summoned Shiro and Kuro to find you and the kidnappers saw him and beat him up, I-I tried my best but they hurt him a lot and you need to help him.”

“Alright, thanks for telling me, I will look after him.” Gojo nodded and smiled for the last time, before she ran off.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” he called, pitching his voice above the gunfire. “We're going to play a little game. It's called Get the Hell Out of Here Before Someone Does Something Stupid.”

One of the children started crying harder.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo crouched beside them, his voice softening. “You're okay. I've got you. See that door over there? I want you all to follow your teacher outside, all right? Stay together, keep your heads down, and don't stop until you're somewhere safe.”

The teacher was already helping the children to their feet.

“Everyone, stay close to me!” she called. “Don't run ahead. Keep your heads down and follow me!”

Gojo finished cutting the last set of ropes, then caught the teacher's shoulder before she could leave.

“Could you take Megumi with you?” He asked, gesturing to the laying body sat in a chair.

The teacher glanced at his injuries with a concerned face.

“Is he–”

“He's alive,” Gojo said quickly. “He's hurt, but he's alive. Only unconscious, could you take him?”

The teacher swallowed, then nodded firmly.

“Of course.”

Gojo's smile softened for a fraction of a second.

He helped her carefully pick up Megumi’s unconscious body, putting it as gently as he could in the teacher's arms. Before he let them leave, he quickly gave the teacher his phone.

“Call the emergency!” He yelled through the gunshots. “But don’t let them in the building, it’s filled with toxins causing hallucinations!”

“What?!”

“Just make them stay outside,” Gojo shut her off.

There was no other way to explain the countless torn bodies or bullets that got stuck in the air around him.

“But what about you and the other man?” She asked frowning. 

“We can handle ourselves,” he waved her off. “Tsumiki knows my password, ask her.”

She watched him for a second longer, but turned around and with unmoving Megumi and few lost children left. Thankfully, Tsumiki held to her word and already evacuated the rest of the little kids outside while Gojo talked with the teacher, so less work for them.

He stood, turning back toward the fight just as Toji slammed another kidnapper into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.

“Children are heading out!” Gojo shouted.

“Finally,” Toji growled. “Thought you'd adopt the whole fucking school.”

“Don't tempt me. I’m a single mother of two and playing a babysitter for their sperm donor is—“

”Shut up and help a little!” Toji yelled.

Another storm of shots fired at them drained the humor from both their faces.

They didn't need to say it. Didn't need to discuss who would take which side or decide how much force was appropriate.

The children were getting out.

The teacher was moving them toward safety.

And the people responsible for hurting their kids were still standing.

Gojo's cursed energy surged.

Toji's hand tightened around the weapon he carried.

For the first time since entering the building, they moved in perfect agreement.

Gojo went left.

Toji went right.

And then they let loose.

Gojo crossed the room in a blur of white hair and black fabric. He caught a man by the front of his shirt and sent him flying into a support pillar, then turned just in time to catch another attack on Infinity.

“Really?” he asked, staring at the man trying desperately to pull his gun back. “You saw what happened to the last guy and thought, yeah, I try myself?”

He flicked his wrist.

The gun was ripped from the man's hands and crushed into a useless lump of metal.

Gojo drove his elbow into the man's chest and sent him sprawling across the floor.

“Next!”

Across the room, Toji was a nightmare made flesh.

He didn't waste movement. Didn't posture or make jokes. He slipped between gunfire, disarmed one man, used him as a shield against another, and knocked them both down before either could get a second shot off.

Every movement was brutally efficient.

Every strike carried the same unspoken message.

You hurt my kid.

Now pay for it.

A man tried to flee toward the back door.

Toji caught him by the collar and yanked him backward.

“Where do you think you're going?”

The man swung wildly. Toji ducked, struck him in the ribs, and drove him to the floor.

“Stay.”

The man didn't get back up.

Gojo caught sight of Toji over the heads of the remaining kidnappers.

“Hey, Fushiguro!”

“WHAT?”

“Try to leave some for me!”

“TRY TO GET HERE FASTER!”

“Wow. Someone's touchy!”

A gunshot cut off the exchange.

Gojo twisted toward the sound, expecting another bullet to bounce harmlessly off Infinity.

Instead, he saw a man standing behind them.

He hadn't been among the ones rushing forward. He'd stayed back, using the chaos to slip around the edge of the room.

And now he had Megumi.

The boy was barely conscious, his head lolling against the man's arm. One hand hung limp at his side. The kidnapper held him close, pressing the barrel of a gun against his temple.

Gojo stopped.

Across the room, Toji stopped too.

The remaining kidnappers seemed to realize what had happened. Their panic shifted into something more confident as they watched the two men freeze.

“Don't move!” the man shouted. His voice shook, but his grip on Megumi tightened. “Either of you takes one step, and I'll blow his fucking brains out!”

Gojo's blood turned to ice.

For one terrible second, the room seemed to go completely silent.

No gunfire. No shouting. No sound except the shallow, uneven breath coming from Megumi.

Gojo could see the man's finger resting against the trigger.

He could see the slight tremor in his wrist.

He could see the angle of the gun, the distance between them, the way Megumi's body was positioned in front of him.

He calculated everything.

Distance. Timing. Angles. The man's reaction speed.

He could teleport.

He could close the distance in less than a second.

He could probably reach Megumi before the man pulled the trigger.

Probably.

But Gojo didn't gamble with Megumi's life.

Beside him, Toji had gone utterly motionless. His eyes were fixed on the gun, his face stripped of every trace of emotion.

He was calculating too.

Neither of them could guarantee they would make it in time.

They were both fast. Both dangerous. And both more than capable of killing the man holding Megumi.

But capable wasn't the same as certain.

“One more step,” the kidnapper warned, pressing the barrel harder against Megumi's head. “I'm serious!”

Gojo slowly raised his hands.

“Okay,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm. “Okay. Nobody's moving.”

Toji's jaw flexed.

Gojo didn't look at him, but he knew exactly what the other man was thinking.

Give me an opening.

I'm trying.

“That's better,” the kidnapper said, breathing hard. “Now you two are going to…”

The kidnapper continued, but Gojo’s attention shifted to a delicate figure behind him. A small child stood near the doorway, half-hidden by the shadow of a toppled cabinet.

Tsumiki.

She hadn't followed the teacher outside.

Or did she?

Gojo was almost certain he saw her helping her classmates outside. Maybe when the man snuck out and brought Megumi inside, she followed him?

Her hands were shaking. Her breathing was too fast, her heart hammering so hard Gojo could almost hear it just from the rapid movement of her chest. She should run. She needed to hide and get out of here to the kids waiting outside.

But Megumi was in front on a gunpoint.

Megumi, who always tried to act tougher than he was. Megumi, who got grumpy when she fussed over him but still came to her when he was hurt. Megumi, who had looked so small and pale against that wall.

Her little brother.

The man had a gun pressed to his head.

Gojo knew better than anyone how much she loved him. He knew that if there was one thing that she’d sacrifice anything for, it would be him.

And Tsumiki couldn't let him hurt Megumi again.

She looked down at the gun in her trembling hands.

Then she glanced at Gojo.

Not at Toji.

But him.

The kidnapper didn't see her. His attention was fixed on Gojo and Toji, on the two dangerous men who could tear the room apart if he gave them half a chance.

“Now,” he demanded, “both of you get on your knees!”

Gojo’s eyes flicked between the man’s gun and Tsumiki, standing behind him.

Tsumiki raised the gun.

Her arms were trembling. Her face had gone pale, and she looked as though she might throw up. She was terrified.

But she was still holding the gun.

That’s my girl.

The kidnapper seemed to catch the direction Gojo was looking and frowned, confused. He began to turn around.

Tsumiki pulled the trigger.

The gunshot cracked through the room.

The kidnapper jerked, his grip loosening as he stumbled away from Megumi. The gun slipped from his hand and clattered across the floor.

For a heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then Gojo moved before the kidnapper even hit the ground.

One moment, he was standing several feet away. The next, he was beside Megumi, catching the boy before his injured body could crumple to the floor.

“Hey, hey. Easy, Megs.”

He lowered himself to the ground, carefully drawing Megumi away from the fallen man. One hand cradled the back of the boy’s head while the other checked his pulse.

A heartbeat pulsed under his fingers.

Gojo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He looked so bad, Gojo was genuinely scared he might die. Well, that was probably overstatement, but he still wanted to get him to Shoko as soon as possible.

Gojo swallowed the sudden urge to tear the entire building apart.

Later.

He could indulge in a little indiscriminate property destruction later.

Right now, he had two children to get out of here.

“Tsumiki?”

He looked up.

Tsumiki was still standing frozen, the gun clutched in both hands. Her face had gone deathly pale. Her eyes were fixed on the man she’d shot. She looked horrified, as if she couldn’t quite understand how the weapon had ended up in her hands, let alone how she’d managed to pull the trigger.

Her lips parted.

“I…” Her voice broke. “I didn't want him to hurt Megumi.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

He shifted Megumi carefully into one arm and reached his free hand toward her.

“Tsumiki. Come here.”

That was all it took.

She dropped the gun.

It hit the floor with a clatter, and she rushed toward him, nearly tripping over her own feet. Gojo barely had time to brace himself before she threw her arms around his neck.

He caught her against his side, holding Megumi securely with his other arm.

Tsumiki buried her face against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Hey. No. None of that.”

Gojo tightened his arms around both children as best he could.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, got it?”

She broke into tears, burying her head in his torso. “But I shot him—”

“You protected your brother.”

“He could be—he could be dead!”

Gojo glanced briefly toward the man on the floor. He was moving, though not particularly coherently.

“He’s breathing,” Gojo assured her. “And we’ll let the professionals worry about him. Right now, I need you to breathe for me, okay?”

Tsumiki shook against him.

“Look at me, Tsumiki.”

She reluctantly lifted her head. Her eyes were full of tears, her cheeks wet, and her breathing was so rapid that Gojo could practically hear her panic spiraling.

Gojo brushed the hair away from her face with his thumb.

He softened his voice.

“You were scared, and you did something incredibly difficult because you wanted to keep Megumi safe. I’m proud of you. But you don’t have to be brave anymore, all right? I’ve got you now.”

Her face crumpled again.

She hugged him tighter.

Gojo pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then rested his cheek against her hair.

He wanted to tell her everything was fine. That she could forget the last few minutes and go back to worrying about homework and what to make for dinner.

But he wasn’t going to lie to her.

She’d remember this. The gun. The sound of the shot. The fear of losing her brother… Shit, Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if Tsumiki had nightmares after this. 

Behind them, something scraped across the floor.

Gojo glanced over Tsumiki’s shoulder.

Toji was standing over the kidnapper she’d shot. The man had apparently made the terrible decision to move, and Toji was finishing the job for his kid.

“Still breathing, huh?” he grinned, watching the man whine on the floor like a predator.

Gojo let out an exhausted sigh, rolling his eyes. “Could you keep it down?.”

“I’m just double-checking.” Toji protested.

“You’re double-checking with a gun?”

Toji drew his weapon.

The kidnapper’s eyes widened.

“Wait—”

Gojo’s voice faded as the shot rang out.

Tsumiki flinched violently against Gojo.

He immediately turned her face back toward his shoulder, shielding her view with his body. “Don’t look, Cupcake.”

Tsumiki ignored his fantastic nickname and instead let her eyes wonder to the scene behind him. “What was that?”

“Just your dad being your dad.” Gojo sighed, not bothering to hold back his irritation.

“Gojo,” Toji said flatly.

“What? Am I wrong?”

Toji didn’t answer. He simply stepped over the man and turned toward the remaining kidnappers.

Whatever hope they’d had of using Megumi as leverage had disappeared. The children were safe, their teacher had escaped with the others, and the two men who’d stormed the building were no longer interested in giving anyone a chance to surrender.

Toji moved first.

Gojo heard the brief scuffle behind him, the sharp thud of a body hitting the floor, and another gunshot.

He didn’t turn around.

He had better things to do.

“Hey, Megs.” He adjusted the boy against his chest, careful not to put pressure on his injuries. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Gojo brushed two fingers against Megumi’s neck again, confirming the pulse.

Still there.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

He kept his voice light, even though his stomach was twisted into knots.

“You can sleep a little longer. But when you wake up, you and I are going to have a very serious conversation about your definition of ‘staying out of trouble.’ Because this? This is a spectacular failure on your part, buddy.”

Tsumiki let out a tiny, wet laugh against his shoulder.

Gojo looked down at her.

“Don’t scold him,” she chuckled.

“Oh, I’m absolutely scolding him. I’ve been saving up material for weeks.”

“He’s hurt.” She reminded him.

“And I’m emotionally devastated,” he waved her off. “We all have our problems.”

She gave him another small, shaky laugh.

It wasn't much, but it was still better then the shaking mess she was before.

“Stay with me, okay?” Gojo brushed his hand over her hair again. “We’re going to get Megumi some help, and then we’re all going home.”

“Pinky promise?”

He looked down at her.

For all his power, all his confidence, all the ridiculous things he could do with a flick of his wrist, there were very few promises he made lightly.

This wasn't one of them.

“On my life.”

A few moments later, the room finally fell quiet.

Gojo hadn't been keeping count of the gunshots. He'd been too busy checking Megumi's pulse, keeping Tsumiki close, and making sure the other children were safely out of the building.

But when he finally looked up, every kidnapper who'd remained in the room was down.

Toji stood among them, rolling his shoulder as if he'd just finished an inconvenient workout.

“Done,” he announced.

“Congratulations.” Gojo looked him over. “You want a sticker?”

Toji gave him a disgusted look and started toward them. Gojo instinctively tightened his hold on the children.

Toji stiffened as he noticed.

His gaze dropped to Megumi, then shifted to Tsumiki, who was still pressed against Gojo’s side. Her fingers were knotted in the fabric of his uniform, and she looked exhausted enough to fall asleep standing up.

Something changed in Toji’s expression.

It was subtle. Gojo might have missed it if he hadn’t spent so much time watching the man for any excuse to punch him.

Toji looked at the way Gojo held Megumi, supporting his injured body without jostling him. At the way he kept one arm around Tsumiki, rubbing slow circles against her back while murmuring reassurances whenever her breathing grew uneven.

He watched Gojo check Megumi’s pulse again.

Then he looked away.

“Huh,” Toji muttered.

Gojo raised an eyebrow.

“Got something to say?”

“No.”

For a long moment, he stood there, looking at the children.

Gojo had no idea what was he thinking.

With the intensity of his gaze, Toji could be just as much thinking about killing Gojo off as he could about just stealing the kids and leaving.

Perhaps, for once, Toji was seeing the difference between loving his children and actually being there for them.

Gojo didn't say anything.

Tsumiki clutched closer to his side, as if hiding partially in front of Toji.

Whatever that meant, it snapped him from his trance, blinking.

He stepped closer to Tsumiki.

She stiffened a little, glancing up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He reached out.

For a second, Gojo wondered if Toji was going to hug her again. The thought was strange enough that he nearly made a joke about witnessing a rare natural phenomenon.

Instead, Toji ruffled her hair.

Tsumiki blinked at him.

“You did all right, kid,” he said gruffly. “Not half bad.”

Her lips parted in surprise.

Then, despite everything, she gave him a tiny smile.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Toji grunted, as if accepting a compliment was somehow more uncomfortable than getting shot.

His gaze shifted to Gojo.

“Look after them.”

Gojo stared at him.

Was he… was Toji serious?

He glanced pointedly at the unconscious child in his arms and the girl practically glued to his side. “Oh, really? I was planning on leaving them here and going shopping.”

“Still a mouthy little shit.” Toji huffed.

“Still a deadbeat.”

The words slipped out before Gojo could stop them.

Silence settled between them.

Tsumiki looked between the two men, her smile fading. Gojo knew he’d hit a nerve. He also knew he wasn't going to apologize for it.

Toji's expression hardened for a moment.

Then, unexpectedly, he snorted.

“Yeah. Well.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Guess they're in good hands.”

Gojo's eyebrows rose.

Oh Toji was seriously losing it.

“Was that a compliment?” Gojo teased, a lopsided grin hanging on his lips. “Should I write it down?”

“Don't push it.” He shook his head.

Then he turned and walked toward the opposite end of the room.

“Dad?” Tsumiki called after him, with the innocent childish tone.

He hesitated.

She hesitated, worryingly biting her lower lip. “Are you leaving?”

Toji glanced back at her.

For a moment, he looked like he might say something more. Something that would explain why he was leaving, or why he hadn't come sooner, or why he'd spent so much time keeping his distance from the children he clearly cared about.

Instead, he gave her a crooked smile.

“You've got your hands full with this idiot already.”

“Hey!” Gojo protested.

“Don't let him teach you any bad habits.”

“Little late for that,” Gojo said. “She's already learned to shoot people. From you. I don’t shoot, those are your stupid genes.” He quickly added as if that would make it any better.

Tsumiki made a horrified noise.

“Gojo!”

“Sorry, sorry. Too soon?”

Toji let out a short laugh.

It was the closest thing to a proper goodbye Gojo was going to get. Then Toji stepped through the doorway and disappeared down the corridor.

Gojo waited a few seconds.

“Wow.” He sighed. “And here I thought he'd at least stick around to help with the paperwork.”

Tsumiki rested her head against his arm.

“Do you think he'll come back?”

Gojo looked toward the empty doorway.

He could have made a joke. Told her Toji was probably off somewhere committing tax fraud, or that he'd return the next time someone needed a particularly unpleasant babysitter.

Instead, he adjusted Megumi in his arms and gave her a small smile.

“I think he'll be around.”

Maybe he’ll even drop by to greet them instead of stalking them like a creep.

Getting everyone out of the building turned out to be significantly more complicated than getting in.

The teacher had gathered the children outside, where they were huddled together on the side of the road. Some were crying. Others were asking questions all at once. A few stared at Gojo as he emerged from the building carrying Megumi, with Tsumiki holding tightly to his sleeve.

The teacher hurried toward them.

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“Hello again!” Gojo said cheerfully. “Long time no see, hm?”

The teacher returned him a particularly concerned and judgmental stare, as she looked at Megumi, and her expression immediately changing.

“Is he—?”

“Alive,” Gojo answered. “But he needs medical attention. Can you keep everyone together until help arrives?”

“Of course.”

Tsumiki's grip tightened around his sleeve.

Gojo looked down at her. “Want to stay with me?”

She nodded immediately.

“Yeah,” he hummed. “Thought so.”

He shifted Megumi carefully and let Tsumiki lean against his side as he carried them both toward the road.

Behind them, the abandoned building stood silent.

Gojo had a thousand things to think about. Megumi's injuries. Tsumiki's trembling hands. The other children. The teacher. The questions the police would ask, the reports he'd have to write, the calls he'd have to make.

And Toji.

Especially Toji.

For a man who claimed not to care, he certainly had a strange way of showing it.

Gojo glanced down at Megumi.

“You'd better wake up soon, kid,” he murmured. “Your sister just saved your life, and I refuse to let you sleep through the opportunity to be embarrassed about it.”

Tsumiki sniffled.

“He'll wake up.”

Gojo looked at her with a smile

“Of course he will.” A small grin tugged at his lips. “He’s strong, just like his sister.”

The distant wail of sirens grew louder.

Several police cars pulled up along the road, followed by an ambulance. Paramedics immediately began loading the injured children into the ambulance while officers spilled out of their vehicles, calling to one another as they assessed the scene.

Gojo made his way toward them as soon as the first officers stepped out of their cars.

“We received a report of an active shooting. Is that true—?” the first officer began, but his words trailed off when he caught sight of Gojo.

A white-haired teenager stood before him, wearing what had once been a white shirt. Now, it was drenched in blood; though, in Gojo’s defense, most of it belonged to the Fushiguro siblings. He’d kept Infinity up throughout the entire fight, after all.

“Ah, hello, officer!” Gojo greeted him, his voice far too cheerful for the situation. “Nope, shooting’s over! Though I wouldn’t recommend going inside just yet. The place is a bit of a biohazard.”

The officer blinked, opening his mouth to protest, but another man stepped past him.

Oh, well. That was a familiar face.

One of the undercover sorcerers.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” The sorcerer bowed deeply.

Gojo hummed, looking rather pleased with himself.

“We’ll take care of the injured and arrange for the cleanup,” the sorcerer continued.

“Are you serious?” the first officer demanded, staring between them. “You can’t just let some civilian—”

“He’s not a civilian,” the sorcerer cut in sharply. “And I’d suggest you stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”

The other officers exchanged bewildered looks. Gojo, deciding to take pity on them, raised a hand.

“Easy, easy. It’s fine! They’ve never met me in person before.” He turned toward the assembled officers and flashed them a grin. “The name’s Satoru Gojo. Public Security Intelligence Agency, Special Unit.”

Silence fell over the group.

One of the officers went pale and hurried toward his colleague, apparently trying to confirm something over the radio.

“B-But you’re just a kid…”

“Funny how that works, huh?” Gojo tilted his head, still smiling. “Sorry, I don’t carry ID around with me. Most people know who I am.”

The officer who’d rushed back to his car came hurrying toward them, his face drained of color.

“He’s telling the truth,” he confirmed, sounding as though he wished he weren’t.

Gojo gave the officers one last sweet smile before turning back to the sorcerer.

“Right! I’ll need NDAs prepared for the children and their teacher. There should be twelve bodies inside the building and scattered around the grounds, so make sure the cleanup crew knows what they’re walking into.”

The sorcerer nodded, his expression unchanged.

“Understood, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“Wonderful!” Gojo leaned back slightly, gesturing toward Megumi in his arms. Tsumiki stood close beside him, watching the officers with obvious distrust. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a kid who needs to see a doctor.”

“Of course.” The sorcerer bowed again, and the other officers followed suit, though a few still looked as if they hadn’t quite processed what was happening.

“Nice meeting you all!” Gojo called cheerfully, waving as he turned away. “Try not to have too much fun with the paperwork!”