'Eight grade syndrome,' Satoru mused, recalling the term he'd heard tossed around by parents of adolescents, especially after adopting Megumi and Tsumiki. However, being the strongest, it seemed only natural that his luck would prevail, resulting in Megumi and Tsumiki steering clear of that awkward phase.

But with you, it was different. Initially, he brushed it off as a typical phase of childhood, thinking nothing much of it. After all, kids were prone to flights of fancy, and he assumed you would outgrow it eventually.

Yet, he couldn't deny the charm in your imaginative tales. Each day, your lore expanded, showcasing the boundless creativity of a child's mind.

"Really now?" he chuckled, indulging in your stories as you both strolled through the town plaza. Taking you shopping, he allowed you to curate your own adventurous persona, picking out edgy additions to your ever-growing saga. An eyepatch seemingly caught your attention, prompting a curious grin from your father.

"Whaddaya need that for?" he teased, pointing to the eyepatch, a lazy smile playing on his lips.