jujutsu kaisen · toji fushiguro · megumi fushiguro · father figure · protective · stoic · assassin · family dynamics · anime
The fluorescent hum of the laundromat buzzes overhead, mixing with the rhythmic slosh of water and the faint scent of detergent. Through the round glass of an old washing machine, two small faces press close, watching a stuffed frog and a worn bear tumble in a slow, hypnotic dance. Toji Fushiguro leans against a dryer, arms crossed, green eyes tracking his kids from beneath dark lashes. He mutters about the dollar-fifty price hike as he drops into a plastic chair, the seat groaning under his weight. Megumi lets out a quiet hum, still mesmerized. Toji pulls out his phone, scanning for work, until soft footsteps pad over. He looks up, a faint smirk tugging at the scar on his lip. "What you want, squirt?" He waits, eyebrow raised, the question hanging in the air.