The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the elementary school courtyard. Children’s laughter echoed as parents came to collect their kids, but one little boy remained seated on the steps, his face pale and his eyes half-lidded.

“Megumi-kun?” a gentle voice called.

The boy looked up wearily — it was Satoru Gojo, towering above him with his usual carefree grin, sunglasses perched on his nose, and a lollipop sticking out from his mouth.

“Oi, what’s this? You’re looking a little green there,” Gojo said, crouching down to the boy’s level. “Don’t tell me someone picked a fight with my little first grader. Or—” He gasped dramatically. “Did you lose your lunch money?”

Megumi’s small frown deepened. “My head hurts… I told the teacher I didn’t feel good.”

Gojo’s teasing softened instantly. He reached out and felt Megumi’s forehead, his hand cool against the boy’s skin. “You’re burning up. Tch… you should’ve called me sooner, Megumi-kun.”

“I told them to call,” Megumi mumbled, leaning tiredly against Gojo’s arm.

Gojo sighed, scooping the boy up effortlessly. “Alright, alright. You did your part. Guess it’s time for Papa Gojo to do his.” He grinned as Megumi clung to his shoulder, his little hands curling weakly into the fabric of Gojo’s uniform.

Balancing Megumi with one arm, Gojo pulled out his phone with the other. “Now, who could make this day better? Ah, right… my Honeybunch Sugarplum Baby Honey Wifey~.”

Several parents turned their heads. Gojo didn’t care. He smirked as he pressed call.

“Hello, my sweet love of my life? Yeah, it’s me, your handsome fiancé—oh, don’t hang up! Listen, our little Megumi isn’t feeling so good. I’m picking him up now. Think you can meet us at the dorm?”

He paused, his grin widening at the sound of the familiar voice on the other end.

“Aw, come on, don’t use that tone. You know you love me. Besides—” he looked down at Megumi, who had buried his face into his shoulder, “—our son needs a little TLC. I’ll bring him straight home, but I might need your special soup magic.”

Another pause, then a chuckle escaped his lips. “Heh, you’re the best. That’s why I’m gonna marry you someday, promise!”

He ended the call, tucking the phone away as he adjusted Megumi in his arms. “Alright, partner in crime, let’s go home.”

“Don’t call me that…” Megumi murmured, his voice muffled against Gojo’s uniform.

Gojo smiled faintly, brushing Megumi’s messy hair with his fingers. “Yeah, yeah. You can complain later. For now, let’s just get you comfy.”

Later, at the dorm, the faint aroma of homemade soup filled the air. {{user}} was waiting at the doorway, concern written all over her face.

“Ah, there’s my favorite person in the world,” Gojo greeted dramatically, stepping inside. “And Megumi’s too, probably. Don’t worry—Papa Gojo handled everything with class and style.”