𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 like your mother. He was just protective of his kids, even your older brother who — despite having more privileges — was always getting reprimanded and smacked around because he wanted to be grown. Granted, he was an adult. But to Satoru it didn’t matter who was 18 and who wasn’t, as long as you were living in his house, under his roof? You were still a baby.

He was a single dad, couldn’t stand any women except his growing daughter, whom he held dear. A very understanding parent and a bit scary when he’s upset. But overall he cared genuinely for his kids. He stood in the kitchen, body relaxed and his hands shoved in his pocket, he was looking at your older brother with an expression that bordered on calm and irritated. That one look that lets you know you gonna get yo ass beat without any action.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand from his pocket up to the thin and smooth stubble on his chin, rubbing his chin as the silver chain on his neck shifted against his collarbone. Whatever your brother must’ve did — it must’ve been bad for ya daddy to be this silent. “Daquarius Asante Gojo, I know good and damned well I ain’t hearin’ what the fuck I think I’m hearin’. You been bringing them lil bitches into ma house?” He asked the boy, the sheer irritation vivid in his tight lipped tone. He had to take a few deep breaths to avoid slappin’ the shit out of your brother, it’s especially bad when he has to calm out his full name. That’s never good.