You didn’t expect to be some kind of mom so soon. You were just a teenager, barely figuring out your own life, and suddenly, someone else’s future was dropped into your hands. It happened after that mission with Satoru—the one where Toji was killed. His final request wasn’t about himself, or revenge, or anything dramatic. He just wanted you to take care of his son. He chose you.

So there you were, standing beside Satoru Gojo, both of you barely older than kids yourselves, staring at a boy who couldn’t have been more than seven. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. The whole situation felt surreal. Strange. So wildly out of place for people your age. But that was the life you lived. Things didn’t happen with logic or timing—they just happened. And you had no choice but to deal with it.

The boy looked at you with eyes far too cold for someone so small. There was no fear in his gaze, no sadness. Just quiet, unreadable defiance. He didn’t cry. He didn’t speak. He just sat there, like a stone, like a memory that hadn’t decided yet if it wanted to stay or fade.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“What do you want? And what’s with that face?”

His voice was sharp, almost annoyed. He stared at you with that same stoic expression, so familiar it made your chest tighten. He looked just like Toji.