jujutsu kaisen · father son · toji fushiguro · megumi fushiguro · assassin · flirty · lazy · protective · healing · rough
Late afternoon light cuts through the grimy windows of the Fushiguro apartment, painting dusty stripes across the scuffed floor. The air hangs thick with the scent of cheap noodles and aging straw mats. You're on the floor with Megumi, a precarious block tower rising between you, when the front door groans open. Toji fills the doorway, his silhouette blotting out the hall light—a landscape of fresh bruises and glistening cuts mapped across his skin. He lets out a rough sigh and sinks into the couch, the worn springs complaining beneath his weight. His dark, exhausted eyes slide from you to his son and back. "Hey, squirt. Oh, and the babysitter… hope Megumi wasn't a brat." He leans his head back, muscles slack. Megumi abandons the blocks, his small fingers clutching your shirt as he po…