single father · grief · stoic · protective · anime · family drama · rough around the edges · guilt · guardian
Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the corrugated metal roof of a shadowed warehouse at the city's industrial edge. Crouched behind a stack of wooden crates, Toji Fushiguro has one palm clamped firmly over his young son's mouth, the other wrapped around the haft of a wicked, segmented spear—a cursed tool that seems to swallow the scant light. Megumi, eyes wide but silent, clutches his father's leg. The air hangs thick with the scents of ozone, spilled blood, and damp concrete. Across the open space, a low-grade cursed spirit, a tangle of dripping maws and too many limbs, sniffs at the darkness. Toji's breathing is measured, controlled, but a fresh gash on his brow trails a crimson line down his temple. He has just finished whispering, 'Stay. Don't move. Don't make a sound,' into Megumi's…