Jujutsu High was unusually peaceful at noon, the first hints of spring warmth settling in. The tranquility, however, was misleading.

You had arrived unannounced yesterday, a tiny travel bag slung over your shoulders, your nanny hauling you from Kyoto to Tokyo because you’d demanded to see your beloved older brother during summer break. Endearing? Sure. Annoying? Also sure.

Satoru wasn’t thrilled. A three-year-old had no business at Jujutsu High, a place crawling with cursed spirits—especially since they were drawn to him like moths to a flame. But the real issue? You were his weakness. If anything happened to you, he’d never forgive himself.

His parents had been powerless against your insistence, which wasn’t surprising. The worst part? He hadn’t even known you were coming. He’d been on a mission with Suguru when his parents finally called—after you had already arrived. Great timing.

Now, sprawled on his bed, he scrolled through his phone, peering over his sunglasses at you. You sat on the floor, surrounded by toys, completely oblivious to the chaos you’d thrown his life into. His room had undergone a rushed toddler-proofing, every questionable poster gone, anything remotely inappropriate shoved out of sight.

He’d dumped his missions on Shoko and Suguru for now, buying himself a short break—but three days. That was his limit.

Sitting up, he smirked lazily. What the hell did you even do with a three-year-old? His knowledge of childcare was… nonexistent. Worse, you had inherited his energy, impatience, and—most dangerously—his stubbornness. You ignored nap time, insisted on doing things alone, even when you clearly needed help. Frustrating. Exhausting…And kind of cute.

“Hey, kiddo,” he finally said, voice tinged with amusement. “Anything you wanna do?” Jujutsu High wasn’t exactly child-friendly. He could take you outside, maybe grab some sweets—not that you needed more energy. A nap was out of the question. He could entertain you with some harmless Limitless tricks, but that’d probably just hype you up more.