Transmigrated As Satoru's Father

Both David and Satoru now walked through the bustling streets of Tokyo, blending into the modern world with their contemporary outfits—well, at least that was the plan.

David wore a white baggy shirt, black sweatpants, and striped black-and-white shoes, while Satoru sported a blue hoodie, black shorts, and white rubber shoes. David had suggested ditching their traditional garb in favor of something more modern, hoping they wouldn't attract attention.

However, the plan backfired. Their striking white hair stood out like a beacon in the sea of dark-haired locals, drawing curious glances wherever they went.

'I have no idea where I'm going,' David thought, eyes scanning the streets as he carried Satoru.

Tokyo was a sprawling maze to him, and despite his attempts to seem confident, he had been wandering for what felt like hours.

There was another problem. While David could speak Japanese fluently—thanks to whatever strange force had brought him here—he couldn't read Kanji.

Signs and shop names were a blur of indecipherable symbols. It didn't help that, even in his previous life, David had never visited Tokyo. He had grown up as an American, and though he could navigate around any major city back home, Tokyo was a different beast.

'Curse this body or mind thing,' David thought, increasingly frustrated.

His new abilities were a mixed blessing. He had inherited a lot from his new identity, but it seemed that knowledge of Tokyo's layout wasn't one of them.

He considered himself lucky to have found his way out of the Gojo compound, which was surrounded by thick trees, isolating it from the bustling city. But now, the city was a labyrinth; all he could do was keep his eyes peeled for a Mochi mascot or recognizable symbol.

"Father... where are we going?" Satoru asked, his voice calm but curious as he glanced around at the unfamiliar streets while being carried.

"Uh... I'm finding a Mochi shop!" David replied, trying to sound upbeat, though the uncertainty in his tone was obvious.

Satoru tilted his head slightly. "But... we passed by one about twenty minutes ago..."

David blinked, his mind grinding to a halt. "...Is that so?"

"Yes, Father," Satoru said, his tone unwavering.

David couldn't believe it. Had he passed the shop twenty minutes ago? No wonder Satoru had kept looking around as he carried him. The kid had known all along, but David's stubbornness (and poor sense of direction) had kept them wandering in circles.

"Well, uh, lead the way, Satoru," David said, rubbing the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

Satoru's eyes widened ever so slightly, a rare show of emotion. His father—who had always been the figure of control and authority in his life—was asking him to lead the way? It was a concept so foreign to him that he stood frozen for a moment. His father had always dictated every aspect of his life, from training to meals, even how he should speak or behave. For as long as he could remember, Satoru had been nothing more than a tool to be perfected in his father's eyes.

But this? This was different. For the first time, his father showed a crack in that rigid control, admitting—albeit indirectly—that he didn't have all the answers and that he was willing to trust Satoru to guide them. The realization was almost shocking.

Satoru's thoughts swirled. He resented his father for the years of cold, calculated control. He had never been allowed to make decisions for himself, and the weight of those expectations had left him feeling trapped. But now... there was something different. A slight but undeniable shift in their dynamic.

Why was his father acting so strange? Was this a test? Some kind of trick? Or was it something else altogether? Satoru couldn't figure it out, but as he looked at David, who smiled down at him with genuine warmth, he felt a small sense of unease. Yet it wasn't a bad feeling. It was... new. And that was unsettling in itself.

"Okay... Father," Satoru finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

David gently set Satoru down but kept a firm hold on his hand, allowing his son to take the lead. Together, they began walking, this time with Satoru guiding the way.

As they moved through the crowded streets, David couldn't help but feel like this was more than just a trip for Mochi. It was the first real moment where he was letting Satoru make a choice, and maybe, just maybe, that was the key to starting something new between them.

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When they arrived at the mochi shop, the bright display of mochi varieties greeted them with various colors and flavors—strawberry, matcha, red bean, chocolate, and many more.

The sight of it all seemed to overwhelm Satoru for a moment. His eyes lit up with excitement, the gleam of joy flickering behind his normally composed demeanor.

David noticed the shift and couldn't help but smile. His first step in this plan—bringing them closer together—seemed to be going smoother than he had hoped.

"Good evening, customers. What flavors would you like to try?" a cheerful female worker greeted them from behind the counter.

Satoru stood there, staring at the dazzling selection, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to decide.

"Uhm..." Satoru murmured, his voice hesitant.

There were so many choices for him to process all at once. He loved mochi and sweets, but there had always been strict rules around food. His father had dictated everything—how much he could eat, when he could indulge, even the flavors he could choose. And most of the time, those choices were made for him. He never complained, never showed how much it bothered him, but now, standing in front of this Mochi display, he was faced with something he hadn't experienced in a long time—freedom.

It was his father who had suggested they get Mochi. The man who had always been rigid and controlling was now giving him the chance to choose. Satoru felt a strange warmth inside, an unfamiliar feeling that made his chest tighten for the first time in years. It wasn't just the sweetness of the Mochi he craved now—the realization that his father had changed. And that change made Satoru feel... hopeful, if not confused.

David watched his son's quiet struggle with a soft smile on his face. He could sense the weight of the moment for Satoru. Slowly, he leaned down, placing a hand on Satoru's shoulder.

"You don't have to rush, Satoru," David said gently. "Take your time. Pick the ones you like. Maybe try something new?"

Satoru looked up at him, startled by the softness in his father's voice. There was no pressure, no command. Just a simple offer. Some of him still expected the old rules to snap back into place at any moment, but they didn't. Instead, his father's smile remained encouraging, warm, and genuine.

Satoru hesitated for a moment longer before finally nodding, his fingers curling slightly at his sides as he glanced back at the display.

"Okay..." he said quietly, a faint tremor in his voice. "I think I'll try strawberry and red bean."

David's smile widened as he nodded. "Good choice. How about we also get the Matcha? I'll try that one."

Satoru blinked up at him, surprised again. His father suggested another flavor that was not out of command but as an equal, like this was something they were doing together. This kind of interaction had been so rare in Satoru's life that it almost felt surreal. But it wasn't a dream. It was real, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Satoru felt like... he could breathe.

He gave a small, tentative smile—something almost unthinkable for him to show.

"Okay. Let's get the matcha too."

As they ordered and the worker prepared their selections, Satoru's mind whirled with the strange, warm feelings swirling inside him. The sense of freedom, of being able to choose something for himself, and the fact that his father had been the one to offer it...

It was a lot to take in. But at that moment, standing beside David, Satoru felt a small crack in the cold walls he had built around himself over the years.

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After buying their mochi, David and Satoru left the shop and stepped back into the busy streets of Tokyo. Satoru was happily munching on his mochi with his left hand, savoring his chosen flavors.

Meanwhile, his right hand was being held gently by David's left hand as they walked together. There was something peaceful in how they strolled down the street, Satoru enjoying his snack and David watching over him.

But as soon as they stepped outside, David's stomach sank with a familiar problem—he had no idea where the Gojo compound was.

'Ah, this is a problem,' David thought with a small sigh.

He had been so focused on ensuring the bonding moment with Satoru went well, on getting the mochi, that he hadn't thought about how they would get back home. Tokyo's towering buildings and bustling streets blurred together, all looking alike.

And without being able to read kanji, he was completely lost when navigating. Which was odd, really—he could speak Japanese fluently, even though he'd never studied it in his previous life.

But for some reason, he couldn't read or write the language. Once again, it felt strange to him, as if his new mind and body weren't fully synced.

David glanced down at Satoru, who was blissfully unaware of his father's inner turmoil, happily nibbling on his mochi, clearly pleased with his newfound freedom to choose flavors. It was a small victory, and David felt proud that the bonding experience had gone so well.

'Should I ask Satoru to lead the way again?' David mused.

He hesitated for a moment before deciding it was the best option. He didn't want to ruin the moment by appearing too lost.

"Hey, Satoru," David called softly, looking down at him with a sheepish smile. "Can you lead the way again?"

Satoru paused mid-bite, the mochi still halfway to his mouth. His blue eyes blinked up at David in surprise. His father—again—was asking him for help, asking him to lead instead of giving a command. Twice in one day. It was unlike the rigid, commanding figure he had grown up with.

Satoru's brows furrowed ever so slightly as he processed his father's behavior shift. This was different. His father had always dictated everything—where they went, what they did, and how he lived. But now, his father asked for his guidance instead of commanding it. It wasn't just a tiny shift but monumental for Satoru, who had lived under such strict control.

Still holding David's hand, Satoru finally nodded, the corners of his mouth softening into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

"Okay, Father," he said quietly.

David sighed in relief, grateful once again for his son's understanding. He watched as Satoru looked around briefly, clearly more familiar with the surroundings than David was.

With quiet confidence, Satoru began to lead them back the way they came, holding onto his father's hand as they navigated the streets of Tokyo.

David smiled to himself as they walked. There was something comforting about letting Satoru take the lead. It wasn't just a bonding moment—it was a sign of trust, a subtle shift in their relationship. And as they walked together, mochi in hand, it felt like the walls that had once stood between them were beginning to crumble.