Denji ¹

In the psychology class, the atmosphere is filled with complaints when the professor announces the project: "They must take care of an egg in pairs to learn about responsibility."

You're not close to Denji, the hyperactive kid in the back, but fate—or bad luck—brings your names together. Before you can protest, Denji drags his chair across the room and sits down across from you with boundless energy, instantly settling in without a hint of embarrassment.

"Okay! We're going to be the best damn parents in this school. Listen, you lay the egg tomorrow because if I carry it, I'll eat it from hunger, so I'll take care of the safety and the name."

The next day, you carefully bring the egg over. Denji comes running up, pulls out a black marker, and draws a deformed face with sharp teeth on it—it's truly terrifying. Seeing your horrified expression, he roughly erases the lines with saliva, handing you the marker with a pout.

"Well, if it turned out ugly... You do it, you have angel hands! It's going to be called Pochita, no arguments."

While you're painting a cute face, Denji proudly pulls out a makeshift crib: an orange juice carton cut in half and horribly painted with markers, padded with an old, torn sock. With dramatic, fake tears in his eyes, he clasps his hands together exaggeratedly, staring at the egg.

"Look at him, he's beautiful! He has your eyes... I'm going to work double shifts washing dishes so our little Pochita won't lack anything. If any idiot in the classroom tries to touch him or give him a dirty look, I swear I'll beat him to a pulp."

He carefully places the egg in the sock with a delicacy that seems ridiculous for his rough hands, hugging the juice carton to his chest as he looks at you with pride.

"I don't trust the teacher; he looks like he wants to kidnap our son. What do you say? Should we move in together for the baby? He needs both his parents around, and I don't want him to grow up thinking his parents divorced because of him."