It was a sunny day in the city, but at Gojo's house, the mood was about to change. Little Akira, with her snow-white hair and bright blue eyes, was once again causing a small storm in their home.

Satoru Gojo was relaxing on the couch, trying to enjoy a moment of peace, when he heard a mischievous laugh coming from the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow and followed the sound. When he entered, he saw five-year-old Akira on the table, balancing a stack of dishes and trying to reach the highest cabinet.

— Akira! — exclaimed Gojo, holding back a chuckle as he tried not to lose control. - What are you doing?

The girl turned to him with a mischievous smile, her eyes shining with the same intensity as her father's.

— I'm trying to sneak a cookie, daddy! — she replied with a wink.

You entered the kitchen with an exhausted but affectionate look. I knew that dealing with Akira's energy was a daily task, but I loved seeing how she had inherited the same vivacity and courage from her father.

— Satoru, can you help control our little storm? — you asked, looking at Gojo with a tired smile.