Chapter Text
It was one of those comfortably ordinary days at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The kind of day that felt almost rare between exorcism and curses and late-night emergency calls. Your group of friends had just returned from a minor mission somewhere outside the city, something small enough that even Satoru didn’t feel the need to gloat about how easy it had been… well, not too much.
The sun was beginning to set, painting long shadows across the courtyard as the four of you strolled back toward the main building. Satoru was walking a step ahead, hands in his pockets. Sunglasses pushed up onto his head as he talked animatedly about something that very clearly, only he found impressive.
“And then I was like ’boom!’ and it disintegrated just like that. Obviously. Because I’m me.” His grin was wide and self-satisfied.
“Uh huh,” Shoko responded flatly, though there was the faintest smile tugging at her lips.
Suguru sighed, but with that tolerant, long-suffering affection he reserved specifically for Satoru. “You didn’t even let the rest of us do anything.”
“That’s because you would’ve taken forever,” Satoru replied breezily, waving a hand. “Efficiency, Suguru. Learn it.”
You rolled your eyes, adjusting your bag to your shoulder. “You are literally the definition of inefficient.”
Satoru gasped dramatically. “I am deeply wounded. Betrayed. Heart shattered.”
“We’ll like you if you buy us some expensive food” Shoko deadpanned, causing Suguru to laugh quietly under his breath.
You were just about to tease Satoru again when something made Shoko slow her steps. Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. “Hold up. Do you… see that?”
A few meters ahead, right near the entrance to the dorm hallway, stood a small figure, maybe a child? A curse? It was swallowed up in an oversized hoodie that looked like it belonged to someone much older. The hood cast a shadow over their face, and their tiny hands were fidgeting nervously with the sleeves.
But more than their appearance, the unsettling thing was that there was no way a random child could’ve gotten inside the school grounds. Jujutsu Tech was heavily warded. Even adults had trouble getting in uninvited, let alone a child.
So, Shoko was the first to move, approaching carefully and slowly, lowering herself just enough to take a good look. “Are you a freaking dwarf curse or something?” She said, her tone reluctant, cautious.
The child lifted their head. Making you all gasp. His expression was anxious, lips trembling slightly. After a second, he gave a hesitant nod. “I… I want to go home.”
Satoru’s reaction was immediate and very on-brand. “Why is there a child here? No. No. Absolutely not. Babysitting is not in my skill set—Ow!” He yelped when Suguru smacked him lightly in the ribs with the back of his hand.
“Be quiet,” Suguru muttered, stepping forward and crouching in front of the child with a much kinder expression than Satoru’s exaggerated horror. “Hey. Can you tell us where you live?”
“With my mama and papa…” the child murmured shyly.
“Of course,” Satoru grumbled, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “That really narrows it down.”
Shoko shot him a look, then turned back toward the child. “And where are your parents now?” The child hesitated, as if he was not sure. His gaze flicked around the courtyard, almost searching, until his eyes landed on you. His expression changed instantly.
Recognition.
Joy.
Relief.
“Mama!”
Before you could do more than blink, the child ran forward and threw his little arms around your legs, clinging tightly. You let out a startled gasp, frozen in place.
“What.” Satoru said flatly.
“HUh?” Shoko echoed.
Suguru just blinked.
Satoru pointed at you, then at the child. “Since when do you have a child?!”
You opened your mouth, because obviously, you did not have a child, but you didn’t even get a word out before the child suddenly turned and looked directly at Satoru. His eyes lit up.
“Papa!”
Satoru stared. Hard.
“Uh...No.”
Suguru broke first, laughing. Shoko covered her mouth to try and keep herself composed but failed spectacularly.
You knelt down slowly, hands gently resting on the child’s shoulders. “Hey… hey sweetheart. Let me see you.”
You pushed the hood back...
White hair.
Bright, unmistakable white hair, soft and slightly messy.
Like Satoru’s.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, eyes widening. “This might actually be your kid, Satoru.” You tried to hold back a laugh and failed.
Satoru’s jaw dropped so fast it was a miracle it didn’t hit the ground. “W–WHAT?!” His voice cracked. “I HAVE NOT— I HAVEN’T EVEN— I HAVEN’T FUCKED ANYONE!”
Suguru smacked him again. “Language. There is a child here.”
The kid blinked at all of you, confused, still clutching your sleeve. You took a breath and softened your voice. “What’s your name, sweetheart? How old are you?”
He looked up at you, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Funny enough, they were so similar to yours. “Hitoshi…” he mumbled. “I’m five...” he stopped for a second and looked around. “Um… mom? Where are we?”
Shoko let out a choked laugh. Suguru had to look away to compose himself. Satoru was huffing frustrated.
Suguru leaned close to Satoru, voice low and amused. “He does look like you. A lot.”
Satoru glared at him. “Shut up.”
Hitoshi looked around the courtyard with innocent curiosity. Then his eyes widened again. “The old school!” he gasped. “The one where you all studied!”
You stared. Shoko stared. Suguru stared. Satoru’s sunglasses slid off his head and clattered to the ground. And then—
“Is Grandpa Yaga here?”
Silence.
Cold, absolute silence.
Even the birds in the trees seemed to stop. Satoru leaned forward slowly, voice uncharacteristically cautious. “…How do you know about that?”
Hitoshi blinked again, as if the question itself was strange. He tilted his head, thinking, small brows scrunching up the same way Satoru’s did when he was trying very hard to use his brain. “You told me, Papa,” he said simply. Like it should have been the easiest answer in the world. “You told me stories. About this place. And about you and mama, and auntie and uncle.” He pointed clumsily at you and then at Suguru, and Shoko.
A hush fell, not heavy or ominous...Just bewildered.
Shoko exchanged a slow look with Suguru who could only raise an eyebrow in return.
Satoru looked at you. And you could only stare back.
“…We’ve clearly missed something,” Suguru said finally, but there was a soft, curious smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah,” Shoko muttered, rubbing her forehead lightly. “A very important something.”
Satoru, on the other hand—his expression shifted rapidly.
Confusion → Offense → Panic → Embarrassment → Denial.
“H-Hold on—No. No. Stop. Stop everything.” He pointed at Hitoshi, then you, then at the sky for some reason. “This...this is some kind of curse. Or illusion. Or weird prank from the higher-ups. Has to be.”
Hitoshi blinked up at him. He was quiet for a moment. Then he reached out his hand, tiny fingers gently poking Satoru’s leg.
“Papa,” he whispered with absolute certainty.
Satoru froze like someone had pressed the pause button on his soul. His face turned even paler.
Suguru lost it. Absolutely lost it, bending over with laughter. Shoko laughed too, hands pressed to her face, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
You, despite the shock still buzzing through your chest, couldn’t help the warm, stunned laugh that escaped you.
You placed a hand lightly on Hitoshi's back, grounding him against you. “Okay,” you said softly, steadying yourself and the situation at the same time. “Let’s… take him to Yaga. He’ll know what to do.”
Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again. He didn’t have anything. Just a tiny, white-haired child looking at him like he was the whole world.
The four of you began walking toward the main building. Hitoshi stayed close to your side, small fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve. You caught Satoru glancing back at him. Again.
And again.
When your eyes met, he looked away quickly, ears turning red.
Suguru leaned in toward you, speaking just loud enough for Satoru to hear:
“…If this is your kid, I am never letting him live this down.”
Satoru sputtered. “He is n— I— WE— NO ONE HAS A KID!” But even he didn’t sound like he believed himself anymore.