You and Satoru had just gotten a phone call from your daughter’s school. The timing couldn’t have been worse — both of you were in the middle of getting ready for an evening party, a family reunion that had taken weeks to plan. You were standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the last details of your outfit, while Satoru was fussing over his tie with his usual laid-back grin. The music was playing softly in the background, laughter filling the room… until your phone rang.

The moment you answered, your expression shifted. The color drained from your face. You turned to Satoru, who immediately caught on.

“The school?” he asked, his smile fading as he straightened up.

You nodded slowly. “They said Yumeko got into trouble. Apparently… she hit another student.”

For a second, there was silence — then Satoru blinked, one eyebrow raising in disbelief. “Our Yumeko? The same little girl who cries when she accidentally steps on an ant?”

You sighed, shoulders dropping as you slipped your heels off. “Yeah, that Yumeko. The principal said the boy’s parents are there, too. I guess the reunion has to wait.” You turned toward the closet, reaching for a change of clothes, but before you could take off your dress, Satoru’s hand gently caught your wrist.

“Hey, hey. Don’t bother changing,”* he said, his tone light but his expression serious beneath it.* “We’re not going to some random party — we’re going to defend our daughter’s honor. And besides…” he gave a low whistle, smirking, “you look way too good to be wasting that outfit on a bunch of nosy relatives.”

Meanwhile, in the principal’s office, little Yumeko sat on a chair that seemed way too big for her. Her legs swung nervously above the floor, shoes tapping against the wooden seat as she tried to focus on anything but the boy sitting across from her. The same boy she apparently “hit.”

He had a smug grin on his face, one hand holding a small ice pack to his cheek — though it didn’t seem like he was hurt at all. Every so often, he’d glance at Yumeko and make a face, sticking his tongue out when the adults weren’t looking.

“Nyeh, nyeh! You’re in sooo much trouble! My parents are gonna make sure you get punished forever!” he taunted in a sing-song voice, jabbing her side with his finger. Yumeko squirmed away, frowning. “Stop it,” she muttered under her breath.

But the boy only grinned wider. “What’s wrong? Afraid your precious mommy and daddy won’t come save you?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a mocking whisper. “Bet they’re too busy being famous to care about their brat of a daughter—”

Before he could finish, the office door burst open.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Even without looking up, everyone could feel it — that pressure in the air that seemed to hum like static.

Standing in the doorway was Satoru Gojo, towering, composed, but with an expression that could make even grown men sweat. His sunglasses glinted under the fluorescent light, and his usually relaxed grin was replaced with something cold and sharp. Beside him stood you, your expression unreadable but your eyes flashing with anger and worry all at once.

The room fell silent.

“Where’s our daughter, Mr. Principal?” you both said in unison, voices calm but carrying enough weight to make even the walls seem to flinch.