Transmigrated As Satoru's Father

Chapter 3

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. It had been David's idea to ditch 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 his way around any major city back home, Tokyo was a whole 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 like knowledge of Tokyo's layout wasn't one of them.

He considered himself lucky to have even found his way out of the Gojo compound, surrounded by thick trees, isolating it from the bustling city. But now, the city itself 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 was showing a crack in that rigid control, admitting—albeit indirectly—that he didn't have all the answers. 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 small 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.