Transmigrated As Satoru's Father

David slowly stood up, feeling disoriented from all that had just transpired. A nearby mirror caught his eye, and curiosity led him to approach it. He blinked in surprise as he saw his reflection—a young man with striking white hair, sharp red eyes, and fair skin, all wrapped in an elegant red kimono.

'Holy... I look like adult Satoru but with red eyes,' David thought, staring at his unfamiliar reflection.

It was a bizarre, almost surreal feeling to see himself like this—looking so much like the iconic character he had admired from the manga, yet different enough to know this was still him. His new identity, his new reality.

He exhaled and slid the door open, stepping out into the hallway. What greeted him was a breathtaking sight—a vast, meticulously designed garden surrounded by a sprawling traditional Japanese estate. The garden was lush with carefully manicured trees and plants, stone lanterns placed at precise intervals, and a koi pond that shimmered under the soft glow of the lanterns hanging from the house's eaves. Gravel paths meandered through the greenery, leading to different parts of the estate, while the distant sound of flowing water created a serene, almost meditative atmosphere. The house was massive, with long corridors lined with shoji doors, polished wood floors, and intricately carved beams.

"So, where's the dining room?" David muttered, glancing around.

This place was enormous, and he had no idea where anything was.

With no clear direction in mind, he sighed. "Looks like I'll just have to bullshit my way there."

He began walking through the house, the soft padding of his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. As he wandered through the corridors, trying to get his bearings, he couldn't help but notice the people who passed by. Each time, they bowed deeply as he walked past them. The first few times, it startled him, but he quickly realized they must be servants. Their reverence was almost unsettling.

"This is weird," David murmured to himself.

He wasn't used to being treated with such deference, and the whole thing made him feel out of place.

As he continued walking, something else caught his attention. Aside from himself and Satoru, he hadn't seen anyone with white hair. The servants and the few people he saw in passing all had dark hair. He remembered how the Zen'in clan, another prestigious family in the series, was large and always bustling with members. Yet here, in the massive Gojo estate, it seemed only he and Satoru were present.

'Where are the other clan members?' David wondered. 'The Gojo clan is supposed to be powerful, but... it's just us here. Is this why the other clan members were absent in the anime or manga?'

The thought nagged at him. There had always been an air of mystery around the Gojo family's lineage, but now, living in it firsthand, the absence of other family members felt even more pronounced.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, he finally arrived at what seemed to be the dining room. He slid the door open and stepped inside, his eyes immediately taking in the size and elegance of the space. The traditional dining room was grand, with polished wooden floors and sliding shoji panels that opened to give a view of the garden. The low, lacquered table stretched across the room, long enough to seat many people, but the only person already seated was Satoru.

The room was eerily empty, save for him. Satoru sat at the side of the table, his posture perfect, his expression calm but distant. The other seats remained vacant, further emphasizing the strange isolation of this large, traditional house.

Satoru turned his head as David entered, his icy blue eyes locking onto him. He rose gracefully from his seat and bowed, a gesture full of respect but devoid of warmth.

"Welcome, Father," Satoru said, his voice polite and formal.

David felt a strange chill. Satoru's tone was respectful, but his manner had an unmistakable coldness. His movements were precise, his demeanor detached, almost mechanical. It was clear that despite calling him 'father,' Satoru felt distant. The title seemed more of an obligation than an expression of closeness.

David hesitated momentarily, taking in the sight of his son—Satoru Gojo, the future strongest sorcerer, standing before him. But the distance between them wasn't just physical. It was emotional as if there was an invisible wall between them.

He sighed inwardly. If he would change anything, that wall had to come down.

"Hey, Satoru..." David said, trying to sound casual, though his voice sounded uncertain.

Satoru, already seated at the side of the long, polished table, glanced up briefly before returning to his calm, detached expression.

David made his way to the head of the table, feeling a bit awkward. The room's silence felt heavy; the distance between them—physically and emotionally—was glaring. He sat down and breathed, trying to settle into the moment.

Both of them clasped their hands together at the same time. "Itadakimasu!" they said, but the contrast between their voices was striking.

Satoru's tone was formal, monotone, almost like a recitation. Meanwhile, David's attempt at the phrase sounded more like "Eat a duck, I must," with a distinctly American twang.

Satoru's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, a brief flicker of amusement breaking through his usual composure, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He simply returned to his meal as if nothing had happened.

David's eyes drifted to the spread in front of him. The food was exquisitely prepared—perfectly golden tempura, delicately arranged sashimi, miso soup with a rich aroma, and bowls of freshly steamed rice. The flavors burst onto his tongue as he took a bite, the crunch of the tempura giving way to the soft, tender shrimp inside. Every element of the meal was a masterpiece, meticulously crafted, the kind of food that made you close your eyes just to savor it fully.

Yet despite the incredible food, the dining room was enveloped in an uncomfortable silence. David glanced over at Satoru quietly eating, every move precise and measured as if he were performing a task rather than enjoying a meal.

David hated the quiet. It wasn't just the lack of conversation—the coldness, the distance between them, that felt suffocating. Satoru's demeanor was like a wall, and David couldn't sense anything beneath the surface. What bothered him more was that he didn't feel anything from Satoru—no cursed energy, nothing. It was strange.

As someone who was now a Gojo, he should've been able to sense anything, but it was as if Satoru was hiding his presence entirely. It confused David and made him question his abilities in this world.

Suddenly, a soft plop broke the silence. Satoru had accidentally dropped a piece of tempura, which landed next to David's bowl.

"I'm sorry, Father," Satoru said immediately, his voice still calm and composed, though David caught a brief flicker of something in those piercing blue eyes.

David's gaze lingered on Satoru's eyes for a moment longer. Those eyes—the legendary Six Eyes—were mesmerizing. Beneath their cold exterior, there was something there, a hint of vulnerability maybe, or hesitation. They were the eyes of someone who had learned to hide too much, who carried a weight that David wasn't sure he fully understood yet.

Satoru reached out to pick up the fallen tempura, but David stopped him with a gentle hand before he could.

"I'll get it," David said softly.

Satoru paused, clearly surprised. He blinked, pulling his hand back as David leaned over and picked up the tempura himself, brushing it off and placing it on the side of the plate. Satoru stared at him for a moment, his expression almost unreadable.

"Be careful next time, okay, Satoru?" David said with a friendly tone, offering a small smile. "Food is something that should be appreciated. It's a gift, and we should treat it with care. If we waste it, we lose the joy it brings us, no matter how small it might seem."

Satoru looked at him, the faintest trace of confusion flickering across his face before he nodded.

"Yes, Father," he replied, his voice quieter this time, as if the words carried more weight.

The silence returned, but this time, it felt a little different. David couldn't help but notice the slight shift in Satoru's posture, the almost imperceptible softening in his eyes. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

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After they finished eating, the table was almost empty. David leaned back with a satisfied grin, his eyes scanning the meal's remains. He had devoured most of it, leaving only a few small dishes untouched.

Across from him, Satoru seemed slightly bewildered. As always, he had eaten just the right amount, leaving the table with perfect composure, but David's appetite had caught him off guard.

David rubbed his stomach with a smile, feeling thoroughly content. Then, without thinking, he let out a loud burp.

-Burp!

Satoru blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. It was a rare sight—his usually composed face slightly cracking with disbelief.

"Oh, excuse me." David chuckled and rubbed his stomach, still grinning.

Satoru blinked again, recovering his composure. "...I will go back to my training, Father." He stood up, his tone back to its usual calm.

"Wait, Satoru," David said suddenly.

Satoru stopped and turned back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion.

"This dinner isn't enough; let's go buy some Mochi," David said with a broad smile.

'This is the perfect opportunity,' David thought, already forming a plan.

He knew this wouldn't instantly bring Satoru closer to him, but it was a start. It was an effort, a small gesture to show that he wanted to do more than just play the role of a distant father figure. Satoru loved sweets, and David planned to use that to bond, however small the gesture might seem.

"Mochi's one of your favorites, right?" David replied casually, his tone light but sincere. "And I could use something sweet after all that food. Besides," he added with a wink, "you can't return to training on an empty stomach. Let's take a break and enjoy something nice together."

"But I'm full, though?" Satoru blinked, clearly caught off guard by David's suggestion.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment as if unsure how to respond. The formality between them hadn't allowed casual outings, and David's suggestion was unexpected. But there was also something in Satoru's eyes—a brief spark of curiosity.

He also couldn't figure out why his father was so insistent.

"Nope, that's not enough!" David said with a grin, walking over to Satoru.

Without warning, he bent down and scooped Satoru up effortlessly, one arm supporting him under his legs and the other around his back, holding him close.

"F-Father?!"

Satoru's demeanor cracked with shock as his father lifted him, carrying him gently and securely. His blue eyes widened in disbelief.

David just chuckled, enjoying his son's surprise. "C'mon, let's go! We're getting mochi!"

Still being held like a child, Satoru blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening.

"F-Father, we could just ask the servants to make us Mochi..."

David shook his head, already heading toward the door with Satoru in his arms. "Nah, that won't do. Let's go out—just the two of us."

Still flustered from being carried in such an unexpected way, Satoru glanced at his father with confusion and curiosity. His father's sudden shift in behavior baffled him, but... there was something about it that felt genuine. Maybe this was more than just about getting mochi.