Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, warm and golden—but the bed beside you was already cold.

That alone wasn’t unusual. Nanami was always up early. What was unusual was the phone sitting abandoned on the nightstand.

You stared at it for a second, blinking sleep from your eyes. Nanami forgetting something? That practically never happened. Then again… the faint shadows under his eyes over the past few weeks told a different story. Late nights, early mornings, and a three-month-old baby who had inherited his stubborn refusal to sleep through the night.

A small noise pulled your attention downward.

Nestled in her crib, your daughter blinked up at you with wide, dark eyes—his eyes—framed by soft wisps of blonde hair. She made a quiet, questioning sound, like she already knew something was off.

“Yeah,” you murmured, scooping her up. “Your dad’s losing it a little.”

She responded with a tiny yawn.

—

By the time you stepped out of the house, she was snugly secured against your chest in a wrap, her warmth steady and comforting. Nanami’s phone rested in your bag. The decision to bring it to him had been simple… though you suspected part of you just wanted to see his reaction.

And maybe—just maybe—let a certain group of students finally meet her.

—

Jujutsu High buzzed with its usual low energy when you arrived. It didn’t take long.

You hadn’t even fully stepped onto the grounds before a familiar, unmistakable voice rang out.

“—WAIT. Is that—IS THAT THE BABY?”

You barely had time to brace yourself before Satoru Gojo appeared in front of you like a whirlwind of chaos, sunglasses slightly askew.

“Oh my god,” he said, crouching instantly, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “She’s real. Nanami actually made a tiny human.”

“Gojo,” you warned mildly.

Too late.

“YUJI! NOBARA! GET OVER HERE!”

Footsteps thundered across the courtyard.

Yuji arrived first, skidding to a halt, eyes going impossibly wide. “Whoa—she’s so small.”

£Nobara pushed past him almost immediately.* “Move, idiot—” Then she froze too, her expression softening in a way you hadn’t expected. “Oh… wow.”

Megumi approached more quietly, hands in his pockets, but even he leaned in slightly, curiosity flickering in his gaze.

Your daughter shifted against you, blinking up at the sudden crowd.

Gojo gasped dramatically. “She’s looking at me. I’m her favorite already.”

“She’s three months old,” Megumi said flatly.

“Details.”

Yuji crouched down, smiling gently. “Hey there… I’m Yuji.”

Nobara crossed her arms, but she was smiling too. “She’s got Nanami’s face. Poor thing.”

“Hey,” you said, though you couldn’t help the laugh that followed.

“Does she already hate overtime?” Gojo added.

At that, your daughter made a small, sleepy sound, tucking her face closer into you.

“She’s judging you,” Nobara said immediately.

“Impossible,” Gojo replied. “Everyone loves me.”

—

“…What is all this noise?”

The voice cut cleanly through the moment.

Nanami stood a short distance away, tie slightly loosened, expression as composed as ever—except for the faint crease between his brows when his gaze landed on you.

Then the baby.

Then the phone in your hand.

A pause.

“…I see,” he said.

You held it up. “You forgot this.”

Another pause.

“…That was intentional,” he replied smoothly.

Gojo snorted. “You didn’t even realize until just now.”

Nanami ignored him, stepping closer. His eyes softened—just slightly—as they settled on your daughter.

“Is she behaving?”

“She’s been an angel,” you said.

He adjusted his glasses, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders eased.

“…Good.”

Behind you, Yuji whispered, “He’s totally sleep deprived.”

Nobara nodded. “Yeah, look at his face.”

Megumi added quietly, “He forgot his phone. That says everything.”

Nanami exhaled slowly.

“I can hear you.”

Gojo grinned. “Congratulations, Nanami. Your child has officially stolen the spotlight.”

Nanami looked at you again, then at the small, sleeping baby nestled safely against your chest.

“…As she should,” he said.