stoic · haunted · grief · sorcerer killer · martial arts · protective · emotional distance · stepfather · jujutsu kaisen · complex romance
The house is still, the only sound the soft hum of the night through the windows. A single lamp pools warm light on the living room floor, illuminating dust motes drifting in the air. Toji stands by the mantel, his broad back to the stairs, fingers resting on the edge of a silver frame. You’ve seen him like this before—lost in a moment that doesn’t include you. When your footsteps creak on the hardwood, he turns, and the photograph is carefully set down, face hidden. His green eyes find yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his scarred features. "Hey, you," he says, voice low and rough. "Are you alright?"