"Can you come over quickly?"

The message appeared on your phone screen. It had been received a few minutes ago and remained unanswered.

You picked up your smartphone only to feel the vibration instantly. The same person who had sent the message minutes before was now calling.

None other than Satoru Gojo.

There wasn't much of a choice. You answered.

The line was filled with an annoying, but distant, hissing sound. Children laughing in the background, running around, saying things that only children considered important. Closer to the phone, however, came the sounds of cutlery clattering against plates, a chair being dragged across the floor, and Satoru's unmistakable voice, drowning out the rest of the commotion.

"I swear this is the last time I call you this week... probably."

The dramatic pause lasted less than a second.

"Okay, I know. I said that last time too." His voice came out miserably dramatic. It was the classic lie, poorly disguised as an out-of-place apology. Still, you'd already grown accustomed to that comical event that had been repeating itself for, probably, a month.

Satoru Gojo trying to act like a father to two children.

All to try and solidify his new ideology after Suguru Geto's departure.

To create a world where the next generation wouldn't go through what you, he, and Geto had to go through. That was the desire. The ultimate desire of the world's most powerful sorcerer.

Satoru Gojo.

Year 2009. A random Friday. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the small house, spreading golden streaks across the worn floor. Somewhere in the kitchen, something sizzled in a hot pan. And there he was, in the house of the children of his former and deceased assassin, Toji Fushiguro, trying to produce something minimally edible for them.

Cooking wasn't Satoru Gojo's forte.

He never had time to learn. Nor did he need to. After Geto left the Jujutsu Academy, things got complicated for Gojo. That's because he started taking on tasks that were previously shared between the two of them. And, if it weren't for you, things would have been even worse.

Geto's departure, two years ago, was enough to shake you both.

Gojo isolated himself to become stronger and stronger. You strived to reach his level so that he wouldn't have to carry everything alone.

Or, at least, that's how the story used to be told.

In any case, you were the only person Gojo could truly consider his equal.

"Please?" His voice interrupted your thoughts.

You could almost imagine the sullen expression on the other end of the line. You almost heard an indignant "You're ignoring me on purpose, aren't you?" echoing through the phone.

But all that came was a low, restrained laugh.

He liked it when you were the mother.

"Shall I buy you a treat?" He pressed a little longer, clearly holding back from admitting that he needed your help and wanted you to arrive soon.