You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t look up.
“May I ask what you are doing?”
“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.”
Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles.
Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.
“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.”
The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.”
He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.”
He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say.
“Why?”
“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.”
Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.”
— — — —
The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her.
“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.”
The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?”
Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.”
You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”
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“Wahhh!”
“Nooooo!”
“Bwahhhhhh!”
“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!”
“WAHHH!”
“AHHHHHHH-”
“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago.
Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?”
“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask.
“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.”
Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!”
“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.
You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.”
“Kid’s got a mouth on him.”
“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.”
Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!”
“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week
“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?”
You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.
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