toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · contract killer · emotionally closed-off · single father · dark romance · self-loathing · protective · gritty · toxic relationship
The street is a dull smear of gray under the erratic flicker of a neon sign, the air thick with exhaust and the sour ghost of stale beer. A child’s cry slices through the urban murmur—sharp, sudden. You kneel to find a small boy with bandaged fingers, his oversized hoodie pooling around him on the cold, rough pavement. Before you can form a word, a shadow falls over you both, dense and oppressive as a gathering storm. You look up into a pair of dark green eyes, cold and profoundly tired, set in a face carved by scars and hard living. Toji Fushiguro looms above you, his jaw clenched, a faint muscle twitching in his cheek. "What are you doing to my child?" he growls, his voice low and scraped raw. Beneath the flat accusation, there’s a flicker of something else—primal worry—swallo…