I am doing something....I think ?

itoshi rin

you knew rin had a mouth on him. a sharp one at that. 

the kind where he mutters under his breath like the world called him out on something bad. 

but you didn’t think your baby would pick it up THIS fast. 

it happens on a completely normal day, too. 

your baby is sitting on the floor, trying to stack blocks with full concentration… it topples over. 

silence. 

a blink. 

and then, clear as DAY: “shit.” 

you freeze so hard you think you ascended. 

slowly, so slowly, you turn to rin. 

he’s already staring at the baby like he just got scored on. 

because yeah… that’s his word. 

he says it under his breath every time something mildly inconveniences him. 

missed shot on TV? “shit.” 

stubbed toe? “shit.” 

life in general? also “shit.” 

and now your baby is using it PERFECTLY in context. 

like… disturbingly correctly. 

drops food? “shit.” 

toy doesn’t work? “shit.” 

you accidentally bump into something? your own child looks at you with mild disappointment and goes: “shit.” 

rin tries to deny responsibility at first, but you’re literally pointing at him like “THIS IS YOU. THIS IS YOUR FAULT.” 

the worst part??? one time, rin messes up something small and your baby just looks at him… nods once… and goes: “shit.” 

and for the first time in his life, rin itoshi is speechless. 

he doesn’t even correct them. just sits there like… oh well. 

itoshi sae

you thought you were safe. 

sae doesn’t talk much. he’s calm. composed. selective with words. 

how bad could it be? 

oh you sweet, naive soul. 

your baby’s first word is: “no.” 

not soft. not hesitant. 

firm. immediate. absolute. like they just rejected a contract offer (very like their dad). 

you’re literally crouched in front of them like “say mama… ma-ma?” 

your baby looks you dead in the eye: “no.” 

you sit there in stunned silence. 

across the room, sae exhales quietly like this is the least surprising thing ever. 

because HE does this. 

you ask him anything? “no.” 

want to go out? “no.” 

eat this? “no.” 

exist peacefully? also for some reason, “no.” 

now your baby has inherited that exact same energy. 

you try to feed them? “no.” 

nap? “no.” 

you offer them their favorite toy? they pause… consider… “no.” 

IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE ANYMORE. 

the worst betrayal happens when sae comes home and kneels down like, “come here.” 

and your baby immediately toddles over. 

no hesitation. no rejection. nothing. 

you’re like wtf??? 

so you try again, arms open: “come to mama?” 

your baby turns, looks you straight in the eyes, and goes: “no.” 

you actually have to walk away. 

sae just watches the whole thing, then lightly pats your head like you lost a simple game. 

you created this menace together, but somehow you’re the only one suffering. 

nagi seishiro

nagi did NOT think this through. 

because he talks. a lot. of nonsense. 

especially complaining. 

so your baby’s first word? 

“annoying.” 

dragged out too. like: “annooyyyying…” 

you’re in shock. 

nagi is like “huh… that sounds familiar.” 

yeah, i wonder who says that literally every 5 minutes. 

and now your baby says it whenever something happens to them. 

hungry? “annoying.” 

toy falls? “annoying.” 

YOU pick them up wrong? “annoying.” 

the worst part is the mimicry. 

your baby copies nagi’s exact lazy tone and little sigh after. 

one time, reo comes over all excited to see the baby and your child just looks at him and goes: “annoying.” 

reo is HEARTBROKEN. 

nagi? proud. absolutely so proud. 

you have to sit both of them down like “we are NOT raising a tiny copy of you.” 

it’s too late i fear. 

mikage reo

reo was determined. 

his baby would be classy. elegant. well-spoken. 

first word? maybe “papa.” 

maybe even “reo” because he lowkey wants that. 

what does your baby say instead? 

“mine.” 

loud. possessive. no hesitation. 

you blink. reo blinks. 

because… yeah. 

reo says that. CONSTANTLY. 

“my team.” “my treasure.” “mine.” 

and now your baby??? 

SNATCHES things and goes “mine.” 

reo tries to gently correct them, but then the baby clings to his shirt and goes “mine.” 

he FREEZES. 

because oh my gosh… that’s his weakness. 

now he’s like “well– i mean– technically– that’s not wrong–” 

you’re like “reo. no.” 

but he’s already lost. 

now the baby calls YOU “mine” too, and suddenly reo’s competitive side kicks in.

“no, i’m yours. they’re mine.” 

THIS IS A CHILD??? 

congrats, you accidentally raised the most possessive, spoiled little mikage ever. 

bachira meguru

bachira talks to EVERYTHING. 

you. himself. the ball. the air. his “monster.” 

so honestly? you should’ve expected this. 

your baby is happily playing on the floor, giggling… 

then suddenly they look at absolutely NOTHING. 

smile. wave. and go: “hi.” 

not to you. not to bachira. 

to the EMPTY SPACE next to them. 

you’re like bye. 

bachira, however, lights up like it’s christmas. 

“you see them, too?!” 

BRO WHAT. 

now it’s a daily thing. 

your baby babbles to invisible friends, laughs, nods like they’re having full conversations. 

and bachira ENCOURAGES it. 

you’ll walk in and see both of them sitting there like: “hiii.” bachira: “what are they saying today, little one?” 

you’re scared. 

you’re out here trying to raise a normal child and bachira’s like “our kid has imagination 😍” 

imagination WHERE??? i see ghosts at this point. 

but the worst part is how HAPPY your baby looks. 

like whatever they’re seeing? bestie energy. 

you just… decide not to question it anymore for your own sanity. 

shidou ryusei

let’s be honest… this was doomed from the start. 

you tried to censor him. you REALLY did. 

he lasted… maybe two hours. max. 

so when your baby’s first word hits, you’re already nervous. 

they’re chewing on a toy, chilling… 

then suddenly they throw it across the room, grin like a little menace, and yell: “boom!” 

loud. excited. slightly unhinged. 

you flinch. 

shidou? LOSES IT. 

like actually starts laughing, clapping, hyping them up like they just scored a goal. 

because yeah… that’s literally him. 

everything is “BOOM!” “BANG!” “LET’S GO!” all high energy, no filter. 

now your baby associates chaos with joy. 

drops something? “boom!” 

knocks over blocks? “boom!” 

accidentally headbutts you? “boom!” 

you’re in pain and they’re celebrating. 

shidou’s over there like “that’s my kid fr.” 

and don’t even get me started on when they start yelling it in public. 

random silence in a store and suddenly: “BOOM!” 

you’re apologizing. 

shidou’s proud. 

you’re suffering. 

9 months just for your baby to be like their loud ass dad. 

karasu tabito

karasu is slick with it. 

he thinks he’s subtle. 

he’s not. 

especially not around a baby who absorbs EVERYTHING. 

so one day, your baby is just sitting there, watching you and karasu talk… 

tilts their head… and goes: “dummy.” 

you blink. 

karasu BLINKS. 

because oh. oh no. 

that’s literally his go-to. 

playful, teasing, slightly condescending – “dummy” this, “dummy” that. 

and now your baby is using it with FULL confidence. 

you drop something? “dummy.” 

karasu forgets something? your baby points at him like they’ve been WAITING for this moment: “dummy.” 

the betrayal??? 

karasu actually clutches his chest like “nah that’s crazy… i taught ya better than that.” 

YOU DID NOT??? 

but the worst part is the tone. 

your baby copies his exact lazy, teasing voice. 

it sounds INTENTIONAL. 

now it’s just a household of people lowkey insulting each other. 

and you’re stuck in the middle like can we PLEASE raise a respectful child. 

karasu’s still laughing though. he thinks it’s hilarious. 

until the baby calls him a dummy in front of his teammates. 

suddenly it’s not funny anymore. 

kaiser michael

no because with kaiser… you already KNOW this was never going to be normal. 

this man does not speak like a regular human being. everything is dramatic, self-indulgent, and just a little unhinged. 

mirrors? speeches. 

goals? speeches. 

brushing his hair? somehow still a speech. 

so when your baby starts babbling, you’re already on edge like… what kind of nonsense are we about to hear. 

it happens when kaiser is literally just… admiring himself. standing in front of a mirror, shirt half-buttoned, going on one of his little monologues like: “of course… i look hot as always–” 

and your baby, sitting nearby, just… stares. 

then they lift their tiny hand… point at him… and go: “me.” 

you pause. 

kaiser pauses. 

because oh. oh that is NOT innocent. 

because THAT is his thing. 

“me.” “look at me.” “watch me.” “it’s me.” 

he centers himself in every sentence like the world revolves around him, and now your baby??? picked up the core concept??? 

it escalates IMMEDIATELY. 

you’re holding them? they push your face away a little and go: “me.” 

you try to take a toy? they hug it tighter: “me.” 

you say “come here”? they point to themselves like a tiny emperor: “me.” 

you slowly turn to kaiser like this is YOUR FAULT. 

and he’s just standing there, staring at your child with this unreadable expression for a second… before he SMILES. 

not even subtle about it either. 

he crouches down, tilts your baby’s chin up slightly, and goes, all soft, but so unbearably smug: “of course it’s you.” 

you’re wondering if it’s okay to constantly validate that, but it’s too late. 

now it’s a daily thing. 

your baby refers to themselves like the main character of the universe. 

no “i want this,” no “give me that.” 

just: “me.” 

the worst part? 

one day, kaiser scores during a match on TV, and your baby CLAPS, points at the screen, and goes: “me.” 

you actually have to take a minute. 

kaiser, meanwhile, looks like he’s never been more proud in his entire life. 

congratulations. you didn’t just raise a child. you raised kaiser 2.0. 

ness alexis

ness is… devoted. 

extremely. emotionally. spiritually. obsessively. 

so his baby??? yeah. no chance. 

first word comes out when kaiser is visiting. 

your baby sees him walk in… eyes LIGHT UP… tiny hands reach out… 

and they go: “kaiser.” 

not dada. not mama. 

KAISER. 

the room goes SILENT. 

ness can’t move. 

because that’s HIS word. 

the way he says it? constantly. reverently. like a prayer. 

and now your baby??? imprinted. 

you try to laugh it off, but ness is already spiraling. 

“they said it so clearly… did you hear that? that was perfect pronunciation–” 

BOY WE KNOW, YOUR CHILD JUST SKIPPED YOU ENTIRELY. 

now every time kaiser shows up, your baby gets excited like it’s their favorite celebrity. “kaiser!” 

reaches for him. ignores ness completely. 

ness is both proud and devastated. 

like yes… they recognize greatness… but also… WHAT ABOUT ME??? 

you’re watching this emotional rollercoaster like yeah no, this is above my sanity grade.