Sunday morning came slower, more relaxed. Tsumiki tied her hair neatly as she peeked into the living room. Arata was already there, sipping tea with his usual calm air.
Megumi sat on the couch, flipping through the book Arata had bought him the day before. He looked absorbed, though his scowl never changed.
"You're early again," Tsumiki said, amused.
"Habit," Arata answered. "Ready for today?"
"Yes. But…" She hesitated, glancing at the clock. "Are we… waiting for Gojo-sensei?"
As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out. "Did someone say my name~?"
Gojo appeared by the doorway, his usual grin plastered across his face, blindfold in place. "I couldn't let you guys have all the fun without me, could I?"
"Gojo-sensei," Tsumiki greeted politely.
Megumi sighed. "Why are you here?"
"Hey, rude. I'm your guardian," Gojo replied cheerfully. "Besides, I cleared my schedule just to hang out today."
Arata raised a brow. "Cleared, huh?"
Gojo smirked. "Well, almost."
They piled into Arata's Bugatti, Gojo claiming the passenger seat while the siblings sat in the back.
"This car again?" Megumi muttered.
"It's efficient," Arata replied simply, starting the engine.
Gojo leaned back, whistling. "Ooh, smooth ride. Fancy taste, Arata-kun."
"It's my dad's," Arata corrected flatly.
"Even better," Gojo said, chuckling.
The first stop wasn't the theater. Arata pulled up at a nearby bakery after Tsumiki admitted she hadn't had breakfast yet. The smell of fresh bread filled the air as they stepped inside.
Gojo immediately leaned over the glass display. "One of everything, please."
The clerk blinked. "Everything?"
Megumi groaned. "Stop exaggerating."
Tsumiki tugged at Gojo's sleeve. "Sensei, we can't eat all that."
"Who said we can't? If we can't finish, Arata will," Gojo said, patting Arata's shoulder.
Arata gave him a flat look but didn't argue. He ended up buying a small bag of melon bread and handing it to Tsumiki. "For later."
Her smile softened. "Thank you."
After the bakery, Arata drove them toward the shopping street. Since it was still early, most shops were just opening. They stopped at a small convenience store for drinks.
Gojo grabbed a row of brightly colored sodas. "Pick one, kids. My treat."
Megumi crossed his arms. "I don't want one."
"Then I'll pick for you." Gojo shoved a neon green bottle in his hand.
Megumi stared at it like it was poison. "…Why this one?"
"Because it looks gross. I wanna see your reaction," Gojo said with a grin.
Tsumiki stifled a laugh behind her hand. Arata quietly handed Megumi a normal iced tea instead. "Ignore him."
Megumi muttered, "Finally, someone sane," and switched the drinks.
The group wandered a little before heading back to the car. They passed by a street vendor selling skewers.
"Food again?" Megumi complained.
"You're growing," Arata said calmly. "You need it."
Gojo already had three skewers in his hand. "See? Arata gets it!"
Tsumiki giggled as she tried one. "This is good."
Megumi sighed, eventually taking one too.
For a moment, it was peaceful. Just four people sharing snacks on a Sunday morning.
Back in the car, Gojo turned on the radio. A cheerful pop song blasted through the speakers.
"Sing along, Megumi!" Gojo said, snapping his fingers to the beat.
Megumi scowled. "No."
"Then you, Tsumiki?" Gojo looked at her hopefully.
She laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know the lyrics."
Gojo pouted dramatically before looking at Arata. "What about you? Don't tell me you're boring too."
Arata's hands stayed steady on the wheel. "I can drive. You can sing."
Gojo leaned back, pretending to cry. "So cruel."
The siblings laughed quietly, watching their teacher sulk like a child.
By the time they finally hit the main road toward the theater, the car was filled with light chatter. Tsumiki was telling Arata about her school classes, Megumi occasionally correcting her when she exaggerated. Gojo kept chiming in with jokes that only made Megumi groan louder.
"Remember yesterday at the arcade?" Gojo teased. "Megumi almost smiled when he lost at air hockey."
"I didn't lose," Megumi muttered.
"You lost," Tsumiki confirmed sweetly.
Megumi sank into his seat. "Traitors."
Arata's lips curved into the faintest smirk as he drove.
They were halfway to the theater, laughter bubbling in the back seat as Tsumiki and Gojo teased Megumi about arcades, when Gojo's phone buzzed. He picked it up casually at first, but as the voice on the other end spoke, his expression shifted. The usual grin faded, replaced by sharp focus.
Arata glanced sideways, catching the change immediately. "What happened?"
Gojo ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Trouble. Some foreigners from America came here for sightseeing. They were kidnapped by two grade 1 rogue curse users and their gang. Hashima Island."
Tsumiki blinked. "Hashima? You mean the abandoned island."
"Yes and two of the foreigners in the group are the wife and child of special grade sorcerer of America." said Gojo.
Arata's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't add up. If they're connected to a special grade sorcerer, there's no way his wife and kid would travel without protection."
Gojo nodded, expression serious. "Exactly. But the higher-ups already sent a team to rescue them. Now the connection with that team's been cut off. Which means… something's off."
Silence settled in the car. Megumi glanced at Arata, then at Gojo, his face hiding a flicker of worry.
Finally, Arata spoke. "You should stay. Spend time with them. I'll take the mission."
Gojo turned to him, surprise flickering in his tone. "You sure? This isn't a simple task."
Arata nodded calmly. "I know. But it's better this way. You promised them a weekend, didn't you? Keep it."
Gojo was quiet for a moment, then grinned faintly, though his tone carried weight. "You're reliable, you know that? Alright. I'll leave it to you. Don't die, okay?"
Arata smirked slightly. "Not planning to."
He dropped them off near the theater, stepping out as the three of them lingered by the entrance.
"Arata-kun," Tsumiki called softly. "Please… be careful."
He gave her a small nod. "I will."
Megumi didn't say much, but as Arata turned to leave, he muttered just loud enough, "…Don't screw this up."
Arata chuckled under his breath, sliding back into the driver's seat. "Noted."
The Bugatti roared to life, pulling away from the curb. The siblings and Gojo watched as it disappeared down the street, the weight of responsibility shifting onto Arata's shoulders.
The city lights blurred past as he drove, calm and focused. A dangerous mission awaited on Hashima Island. But his thoughts remained steady.
"Kidnapping the wife and child of a special grade sorcerer is just pure idiocy no matter how you look at it. How unusual…."