“I want a baby.”

Satoru choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering until his eyes watered. For a moment, he just stared at you, trying to decide if you were joking. But when you didn’t laugh—or even flinch—he realized you were dead serious.

He opened his mouth to fire off a sarcastic remark, but stopped short when he saw the look in your eyes. Something about it shut him up faster than any cursed technique ever could. “Wait… what?”

You leaned in, your expression unreadable. “Actually… I’d like your help.”

For a second, Gojo just blinked. Then he really heard what you said. His chair scraped against the floor as he nearly fell out of it, wide-eyed and gaping like you’d just asked him to fight Sukuna barehanded.

“You need my help?” he echoed, his voice a weird mix of disbelief and something else he couldn’t quite place. “Like… me me? Are we talking babysitting, or did you just proposition the world’s strongest sorcerer for his genes?”