I'll wipe off your tears but I'll let them fall first 

And I will be brave when you fall and get hurt

"Wear the white one." You have a direct view into the walk-in closet, where your husband is picking the outfit he'll wear to greet the new first years.

There are four of them, and you pray to all your lucky stars that they aren't anything like Gojo. You love him dearly, but he can be a handful – and that's putting it mildly.

Toji glances over to where you sit on the edge of the bed in the master bedroom, a still-warm cup of coffee still clutched in your hands. His mouth curves in an indulgent smile. His smile makes you happy, too. You swing your legs, too full of love and happiness to sit still.

"You look good in white." You say with an easy shrug. Actually, you look good in anything, you think. But if I told you, you'd only get a big head. "Like an angel."

His smile turns incredulous, and the look directed at you is dry. You have to laugh at the look on his face. Toji unhooks the sweater from the rack, a luxurious cotton-cashmere blend. You're afforded the joy of admiring his leanly ripped body and taut skin as he shrugs the sweater on in one fluid motion.

Toji sits beside you, stealing the mug from your hands when you're distracted. You tilt your head back to look up at him, your heart beating strong and sure. The desire that always smouldered between you flares, making you feel vibrant and alive. Every nerve ending sensitizes, preparing for his touch. Hunger coils tight with heated anticipation.

Toji checks you out and says, "You're trying to kill me. Are you wearing the garters again?"

You smile tauntingly. Pulling the hem of your skirt up, you show him where the top of your black silk stockings hooks to your black lace garter belt.

Toji's muttered curse makes you smile. Your outfit for the day consists of a black turtleneck sweater paired with a decently short pleated skirt in lipstick red. You've pulled your hair back into a simple coil at the base of your neck, and your gold wedding band glitters on your finger.

You blow him a kiss and watch his eyes darken. The look on his face is bound to stay with you for the rest of the day.

"How about a lunch date in my office?" You suggest breathlessly, lips and cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink.

A series of quick, excited knocks interrupts whatever your husband is about to say. You laugh at the disgruntled scowl flitting across his face. You think you hear incessant barking from behind the door, and when your eyes meet Toji's, your own confusion is mirrored in his.

"And that's our cue." You kiss him lightly, wiggling away with a laugh when he tries to tug you onto his lap to deepen the kiss. You slide off the bed and onto your feet. "Time to be parents and see what the kids are up to."

"Mummy?" The delicate, open face of your daughter greets you when you open the door. Despite your claims that your children all take after their father, Toji is stubbornly insistent that Tsumiki is more like you than him, with a sweet, sunny nature that endears her to everyone. Her colour is high and her cheeks are flushed. She can't stop smiling. "Look at what Megumi did!"

Beside her, Megumi's eyes glow with pride. He's only six, but already he's a near mirror of your husband. His round, small face lights up with a rare smile. A furry ball sits at his feet. As you watch, the ball shakes itself out and becomes a puppy not much bigger in size than your feet. It stumbles towards you on shaky legs. It's as white as snow, as tears, and has a sweet face alight with joy and excitement.

"What did Mimi do, honey?" You ask, watching as the tiny puppy makes it to your feet and starts licking at your toes. It tickles.

Tsumiki's delighted giggle rustles over to you. There's nothing in this world quite like the sound of a child's innocent laugh, and your heart seizes. "He's like me! He uses Shadows too!"

"Oh –" Your stomach scrunches at the words. You exchange a brief frowny-smile with your husband. "Oh."

While your children react to the news with light-hearted cheer, you know what this entails. Offers flooding in from various clans, money in exchange for your children. As if they're nothing more than a length of cloth, a sack of rice, to be exchanged and sold off to the highest bidder. You've gone through it once, with Tsumiki, and now, Megumi. Your anger burns brightly. You won't let them take your children away. Toji comes behind you; you grasp onto him. He tightens his hold to match your need.

"Mom?" Megumi's face falls when he notices your frosty silence.

"Oh – Oh, no, honey." Recovering, you scoop your son up into a hug, revelling in the weight and feel of him pressed close to you. He latches onto your neck with his tiny but manacle-strong arms. "No, I'm not mad at you. No. You did so good, and we're so proud of you. Red rice for dinner tonight, hmm?"

"Mhm!"

"If it pees in the house, it's going outside." Toji warns.

He eyes the puppy considerably, who now sits at his feet, looking up at him with soft, dark eyes filled with something akin to adoration. The puppy's tail wags so hard, his back end shifts from side to side along with it.

Over your shoulder, Megumi's little face scrunches up into a stormy glare.

The rest of the day passes by swiftly, with you introducing yourself to the apprehensive looking first years and welcoming them to the school. You try to soothe frazzled nerves where you can, which comes easy to you from a lifetime of caring for children. You bring them on a tour of the expansive school grounds, inhaling the crisp air and enduring the unfamiliar snap in your lungs. Finally, with a minute to yourself, you return to your safe haven in the infirmary. You cast a longing eye at the clock, watching how slowly the hands seem to inch towards twelve.

A knock on your door, but the person on the other side isn't who you've been expecting. Gojo and Getou limp into the room, both of them in various states of abuse. Despite yourself, you laugh.

Motioning for them to take a seat, you ask, "What is it this time? A Curse, training, or stupidity?"

"That depends." Gojo pretends to think it over, flopping onto the sofa and stretching out his lanky limbs in a show of exhaustion. He scoots over when Getou prods him in the ribs, affording his friend about three inches of space. "Which category would you put your husband under?"

Brat. You reach out to muss his hair as you pass. Gojo cringes away from your affectionate ministrations and sticks his tongue out at you. "Training."

"Then training."

"Where's Shoko and why didn't she heal you?"

Getou smiles. His face is mottled in shades of blue and purple, much like your neck, and the insides of your thighs. Except his bruises are the result of training; yours had been given to you late last night, when your husband had sank his teeth eagerly into your tender flesh. "She ran off again. Fushiguro-sensei's furious."

"Hey, at least the training's working. She can actually outrun him this time."

"To be fair, Satoru was distracting him."

You nod sagely, recalling the petty arguments which sometimes escalate into shouting matches if you aren't around to mediate. "Ah. That explains a lot."

There's another tap on the door – soft, hesitant.

Tsumiki's voice is anxious, though muffled through the door. "Mummy? Are you in here?"

"Coming!" You tell her. You look at your students. "Can you manage to hold onto your flickering sparks of life until I return?"

"You're leaving?" Gojo asks, appalled.

"Five minutes, Toru." You roll your eyes and smile, unable to contain yourself. "The first aid box is there if you can't wait."

Gojo's complaints follow you all the way out. Rolling your eyes, you shut the door behind you. The thick wood does a remarkable job of silencing his voice – though you feel a surge of sympathy for Getou, who is now stuck with him until you return.

Crouching onto the floor, you find yourself with a little boy in your arms. He buries his face in your chest. His cries are muffled in your shirt.

"Mama." Megumi hiccups violently, his voice clogged with tears. It calls upon all your instincts to protect and soothe.

You immediately tense, the first surge of fury bristling along your spine. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"The – The –"

"The puppy's gone," Tsumiki whispers, putting into words what her brother can't. He's too upset to even speak properly. She shakes her head in apology. "I think Megumi's Cursed Energy ran out, so it vanished, but now he won't stop crying and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't find Daddy, so I came here."

The anger fades. You're almost tempted to laugh.

"Oh. Oh, honey." You cup the back of his small head, holding him securely against your now-damp shirt. "He'll come back when you have a bit more Cursed Energy. Don't cry. It's alright."

You hold him. You rock him and you breathe him. Megumi had been so small. Now he's so tall and clever and tender. You kiss his forehead.

You hold him for a long time.