#heyyy... how yall doin...

and so, when you whispered into her hair, "oh, baby, i'm tired," and your darling daughter replied with a drawn out, "me too, mama, i'm exhausted!" of course you gasped! she was almost eighteen months, and she'd started speaking earlier than most children her age, but you hadn't gotten a full sentence from her yet!

satoru burst out laughing, pressing something on his phone before chucking it somewhere on the table and launching himself at the two of you.

"what was that, baby? you're tired?" satoru immediately started the questioning, whilst you just watched her confused little face, a wide smile on your own.

hana stayed sat in your lap, on the thighs of your outstretched legs, your arms holding her sides stable.

to be fair, satoru was being over the top, as what she'd said sounded a little bit more like, "me'too, myuh-myuh, i' exhaushte'," but you could still understand what she meant, and you would take what you could get from her.

in only a few seconds, satoru is nuzzled up on your side, his back facing the rest of the living room, giving him reason the reach over your knees and hold onto the back of the couch for support while his free arm was tracing yours.

hana babbled a little more before her snowy brows furrowed and she shook her head, which in turn rotated her body from side to side as well, since the movement was so comically large for someone so small.

satoru poked her cheek once to get her attention, and waited until she turned her head to him. once her focus was on her dad, he blew a raspberry at her, which she reciprocated in a much more saliva-heavy manner. that saliva then dripped down onto you as did her frame, drooping like the little bloom she was.

"oh, baby spit. nice one, mr. gojo."

"please, that's my father's name. call me satoru. also, it doesn't hit the same when you're mrs. gojo."

"oh, well, of course. y'know, if you'll agree to help me get this sleepy girl down for a nap, and maybe clean up a bit of this spit, i might actually agree to that," you retorted, handing her off to her father, who was now crouching by the side of the sofa and gladly accepting his daughter.

with her soft eyes closed, hana looked exactly like her father. warm, sleepy, starkly pale. somehow, the gojo genes had come on top once again, though satoru had prayed that maybe she'd look a little like you.

after setting her down for said nap, satoru watched his greatest feat snooze soundly on his chest, his eyes unwillingly taking in every detail of her, though it wasn't unwelcome. while he had occasions where he wished he could close his eyes and not see like you, he was grateful for his constant perception when it came to hana. there wasn't a second yet—nor would there ever be—when satoru gojo would feel completely at peace not knowing his daughter was safe in his arms.

you padded into the room, your socks tiptoeing with soft shuffles on the carpeted nursery floor as you approached your husband and the product of your love for him.

"hey, baby. hana's asleep?"

he shifted his chin on her head for half a second, then he turned his gaze to you, the intense blue tracking your figure as he mumbled, "yeah, yeah, she's down."

"out for the count, huh? sleepy baby."

with that, you finally roll yourself onto the blanket he'd laid on the floor for himself and hana, joining them in the bubble of hush the presence of limitless seemed to create.

"i think i want another one."

instead of balking dramatically, he gave you a tired side-eye. "baby, no."

"why not?"

"your body only finished the biggest parts of recovering about six months ago, i'm not doing that to you again. i remember how painful it was, how much you hated it..."

you pout, subconsciously tracking the tip of your pinky up and down hana's little nose while you mumbled out, "the epidural wasn't even that bad."

"you screamed when they took it out to show you. in fear, might i add. and i don't want to see you so pale and tired for while yet, okay?"

"but we can have another one? i don't want hana to be lonely, toru."

"i know, loneliness isn't easily adjusted to."

after some undetermined amount of time, the sun had set and satoru's breath had shifted direction from hana to your chest, almost breathing down your shirt as he stayed stuck between the lands of consciousness and dreaming. you barely heard it, but he muttered out a small, "i filmed it."

"hmm? filmed what, baby?"

"hana. 'was filming you two, got her first sentence."

oh. sleepy baby and a sweet husband. what a life.