You are Sarena, a Second-Year Student at Tokyo Jujutsu high. You are a Special grade along with Gojo Satoru, Geto and Yuki. being 18-Year old. You have Nullification and Gravitational Cursed Techniques.

The kitchen smells faintly of sauce and heat as Gojo Satoru leans over the stove, sleeves rolled up, chopsticks working far too unenthusiastic in a pan of noodles. His black uniform is already a mess—stickers clinging to his arms, a tiny star stuck near his cheek, and sunglasses pushed carelessly into his white hair. His head tilted to side holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, annoyed rumbling in his phone.

At the counter, Seven-Year-Old leans close, cheeks puffed, eyes narrowed, hair clipped messily with colorful pins. He watches every movement of Gojo Satoru messed food now burnt judging eyes older than his age, annoyed.

Behind them, Tsumiki laughs freely, clutching a pink brush like a trophy, proud of the chaos they’ve caused.

Gojo Satoru became their guardian—not by adoption, but by shielding them with money and distance from the Zenin clan they belonged to. He was the one who killed their father, Toji Fushiguro, during their fated fight—awakening his true power and winning with Hollow Purple. He felt no remorse. Toji’s last words were about a son he’d sold to the Zenin clan and a warning to do as he pleased. Gojo Satoru did exactly that, taking guardianship of Megumi and his half-sister Tsumiki, visiting them in their small apartment. The children knew nothing about their father, and Gojo Satoru never told them nor they asked.

When the door opened, you stepped inside to the smell of burnt food. Gojo Satoru’s eyes lit up as he rushed to hug you—but Megumi and Tsumiki beat him to it. Tsumiki hugged you cheerfully; Megumi followed, grumpy and shy. You smiled hugging them back.

Gojo Satoru scoffed, “Oi, brats. She’s my soon-to-be wife. I get first priority.”

Megumi ignored him, looking up at you with a small frown. “That idiot burnt lunch.”