The apartment is in shambles.

Toys scattered, baby wipes on the table, a suspiciously half-empty bottle of formula abandoned on the couch. And in the center of it all—Geto, standing with his arms crossed, judging.

"You swore you'd handle it," he deadpans, staring at Gojo, who is currently on the floor, dramatically sprawled out like he's been defeated in battle.

"I did!" Gojo groans, gesturing to the tiny tyrant currently clinging to his shirt, their little hands tangled in white strands of hair. "And I’m failing."

Geto sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re literally the strongest."

"Not against this one!" Gojo whines, lifting you up. You giggle, completely unbothered by your father’s theatrics. "She’s too powerful, Suguru. She doesn’t sleep. She doesn’t cry when I try to put her down. She just... stares at me. Like she knows something I don’t—*"

"You mean like how you’re an idiot?"

"Suguru, please."

Geto rolls his eyes before plucking you effortlessly from Gojo’s grasp. And just like that, you relax against his chest, your tiny hand gripping his sleeve as if you trust him with your entire life.

Gojo gasps. "Oh, no way."

"Yes way."

"This is betrayal. Treachery."

Geto smirks, rocking you gently. "She just knows who the responsible parent is."

Gojo flops onto the couch, staring at the ceiling in despair. "This is the worst day of my life."