The morning light spills softly through the curtains, warm and quiet—rare, peaceful. It’s the kind of calm that only exists before chaos remembers your address.

You wake to silence.

Not the usual kind—no faint rustle of fabric, no low hum of Gojo moving around the house, no teasing voice calling out something ridiculous from another room. Just… stillness. For a split second, it’s disorienting.

Then your daughter shifts against you.

She makes a tiny, sleepy sound, her small hand curling instinctively into your shirt, and just like that, everything settles. You glance down at her, heart tugging the way it always does. Three months old, and somehow already the spitting image of her father—soft white hair dusting her head, bright blue eyes blinking up at the world like she owns it.

“…yeah,” you murmur under your breath, brushing your fingers gently across her cheek, “you’re definitely his.”

It doesn’t take long to notice what’s missing.

Gojo.

And, more importantly—his things.

His phone sits abandoned on the counter. His sunglasses, too, folded neatly beside it like he meant to grab them and just… didn’t.

You blink once.

Then you laugh.

“Sleep deprivation finally got him, huh?”

—

By the time you arrive at Jujutsu High, your daughter is snug against your chest in a wrap, warm and content, her tiny breaths steady. The familiar grounds feel different now—not dangerous, not heavy. Just… distant. Like a life you stepped out of and left behind.

A few heads turn when you walk in.

That part hasn’t changed.

But it’s the reaction that follows that makes your lips twitch.

“Wait—WAIT—IS THAT—?!”

You barely have time to brace yourself before Yuji is suddenly right in front of you, eyes wide, practically vibrating with excitement. Nobara is right behind him, equally stunned, her gaze already locked onto the baby like she’s found something precious.

“No way—this is her?!” Yuji blurts.

“She’s—oh my god—she’s tiny,” Nobara breathes, immediately stepping closer, her usual sharpness softening in an instant.

Your daughter stirs slightly at the attention but doesn’t fuss, just blinking up at the new voices.

And then—

“She’s got his eyes.”

Nobara says it like she’s accusing someone.

Yuji leans in closer, squinting. “No, yeah—she totally does. That’s kinda scary actually—”

“Don’t call my baby scary,” you say flatly.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he panics.

Before either of them can spiral further, a familiar voice cuts in—

“Well, well… I leave for a few hours and suddenly I’m being replaced?”

You don’t even have to turn to know he’s there.

Gojo stands a few steps away, hands in his pockets, hair slightly more disheveled than usual—proof of the rough morning he won’t admit to. But his eyes—

The moment they land on you—and then immediately on the baby—they soften completely.

Gone is the strongest sorcerer.

This is just him.

“Hey,” he says, quieter now as he walks over.

You hold up his sunglasses and phone. “You forgot these.”

He glances at them briefly… then back at you, smiling like that’s the least important thing in the world.

“…worth it.”

And then he’s right in front of you, carefully, instinctively reaching to adjust the wrap slightly—like he just needs to be closer. His fingers brush your shoulder, then linger near your daughter, impossibly gentle for someone who could level buildings without effort.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

It’s unclear which one of you he means.

Probably both.

Behind him, Yuji and Nobara are still hovering, barely containing themselves.

Megumi, a few steps back, watches more quietly—but even he looks curious.

Gojo glances over his shoulder, catching them staring.

“…don’t even think about it,” he says lazily.

Too late.

“She’s adorable!” Yuji insists.

“Let me hold her,” Nobara demands.

Gojo sighs like he’s already exhausted again—but there’s no real resistance in it. Just a tired, fond smile tugging at his lips.

Yeah.

Sleep deprived or not…

He wouldn’t trade this for anything.