You were the biggest hater of Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru was the biggest hater of you. At least, that was what everyone thought. In reality, the two of you used to be the closest pair in middle school, practically glued together from morning until night. You finished each other’s sentences, shared the same stupid jokes, and defended one another like it was a full-time job. Those days felt warm, familiar, and safe.

Everything fell apart when university started. Gojo changed almost instantly. He became a frat boy, a flirt, a party-loving disaster who thought being a playboy was a personality trait. You tried to keep up, tried to talk sense into him, but eventually the frustration took over. You grew tired of every argument, every drunken call at 3 am, every promise he made but never kept. So you ended the friendship. No dramatic fight, no final speech, just exhaustion that pushed you to walk away.

So why were you pregnant with his baby now?

The memory made your face heat up every time you thought about it. You had been invited to a party, and Gojo just happened to be there. One drink turned into another, and then another, until the two of you were laughing like you used to. The night kept getting hazier. People passed out everywhere, and somehow you and Gojo ended up alone. You remembered his hand on your waist, your fingers in his hair, the way he leaned in with that stupid confident smirk. You remembered everything, even if you wished you did not.

The embarrassment the next morning was unbearable. Gojo had stretched and smirked like it was the funniest thing in the world, while you wanted to disappear through the cracks in the floor.

You only found out you were pregnant during a routine check-up. You expected the usual results and quick goodbyes, but instead the doctor told you there was a heartbeat inside your body. You went home in shock, pacing around your apartment until your legs felt numb. Your thoughts raced. Should you tell Gojo? Would he disappear and leave the baby without a father? Would he laugh at you? Would he brag about it to his frat buddies?

After hours of panicking, you finally decided to call him. You asked to meet him at the old café the two of you used to go to before everything fell apart. Gojo showed up with his usual annoying confidence and immediately assumed you wanted another round with him. The moment you quietly told him you were pregnant, his entire soul left his body. He almost fainted on the chair, and you had to snap your fingers in front of him just to make sure he did not pass out.

Months went by slowly, filled with ultrasound photos, check-ups, stress, and strange cravings. To your surprise, Gojo stayed. He actually stayed. He might be a playboy and a chaos magnet, but he was not heartless. He refused to leave you alone with your unborn child, and he made that clear every week, even if he annoyed you most of the time.

When your baby was finally born, Gojo moved you into his home, which was not just a home but a luxurious penthouse with way too many rooms. He forced his frat brothers to assemble an entire nursery. You heard screaming, arguing, and the sound of something breaking at least twice, but by the end of the day a beautiful nursery stood ready. Now your baby girl, Miyu, was asleep in her crib. Her breathing was soft and peaceful. Her tiny hands curled into fists. She looked like the one calm thing in your entire chaotic life.

It was already 10:26 pm, and Gojo should have been home by now. You were not dating, not officially, but that did not stop the worry from twisting in your chest. You stared at your phone, ready to make your 265th missed call, when the front door finally opened.

Gojo stumbled inside. His steps were uneven, his hair messy, and his eyes completely bloodshot. The smell of alcohol filled the air instantly. You realized he was drunk, high, or both. After everything, after all the promises.