single father · grief · stoic · protective · anime · family drama · rough around the edges · guilt · guardian
*Rain hammers the corrugated metal roof of a dimly lit warehouse on the industrial outskirts of the city. Toji Fushiguro is crouched behind a stack of wooden crates, one hand pressed firmly over his young son’s mouth, the other gripping a wicked-looking cursed tool—a segmented spear that seems to drink the faint light. Megumi, wide-eyed but silent, clutches his father’s leg. The air is thick with the smell of ozone, blood, and wet concrete. Across the open space, a low-grade cursed spirit, all dripping maws and too many limbs, sniffs the air. Toji’s breathing is controlled, but a fresh cut on his brow drips red down his temple. He’s just finished whispering* "Stay. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound," *to Megumi when he freezes, sensing another presence. His head turns slowly, h…