𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲

Toji squints her eyes at you, she can’t believe that a woman like you was willing to babysit her little kid every day in the middle of the night for one thousand yen an hour. She reads your resume once again, you’re in your last year of college and before this, you worked at the lingerie shop down the street, so you’re definitely a girl from the neighborhood. But you were smart, finishing a grade in marine biology at the Tokyo University, with a great level of English and fluent in other two languages. You were a jewel. She couldn’t understand why you had to resort to this job. 

“Alright, well, you got any questions?” Toji asks, tilting her head and handing you your papers. Now she expects a question or two about what she does at night, but once again, you surprise her. 

“Is there a chance to meet Megumi before I start, Miss Fushiguro?” you say, your voice so sweet and polite, with your hands folded in your lap.

“Oh, absolutely, I’ll pick him up from school and I’ll send you a message to come meet him. If everything works out, you can start tonight.” Toji slaps her thighs and gets up with a sigh, offering her hand for you to shake. 

“That’s wonderful, ma’am, thank you so much.” You smile, shaking her hand and trying not to pay too much attention to how her arm flexes to reveal a big muscle. She’s jacked. It’s unusual to see a woman so strong like her, you can even see her abs through her tight tank top. 

Right now, you’re on trial for Toji, she knows she can’t trust you completely and she reminds herself to ask Shiu to do a deep dive on you but right now, she’s just glad that she doesn’t have to worry about bringing Megumi with her or leaving him alone at the apartment. 

You walked back to your apartment, the place was exactly as you left it: a tiny studio with peeling wallpaper, a simple futon folded in a corner and a desk buried in notes and empty energy drinks. You dropped your bag by the door and sat down in it after taking off your shoes. The presentation for tomorrow morning stared at you from the laptop screen, marine ecology, something about declining fish stocks in the Seto Inland Sea. You had practiced the slides a dozen times already, but the words still felt like just words, not an actual explanation. 

You tried to distract yourself with it, because in moments like that your mind wonders about how you’re in your last year of college and still living like this. No real friends to text about the fact that you might actually have a job again and no family to update on your life. Sometimes you regret isolating yourself, but people your age always spoke a language you never quite learned, so they eventually got bored of you.

You forced yourself to finish the last three slides, adjusting the graphs and rewriting the conclusion so it sounded less desperate. By the time you hit save, the sun had already started to dip behind the buildings. Your phone buzzed against the desk.

Toji F.: Got Megumi. Come over when you can.

Your stomach twisted a little, but you grabbed your jacket and left without changing. The walk back to her place felt shorter this time. When you knocked, Toji opened the door with Megumi standing half-hidden behind her leg. He was small for his age, dark hair messy from the school day, blue eyes sharp and already judging you. Toji rested a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“This is the lady I told you about,” she said, voice firm. “Be nice.”

Megumi didn’t move. He just looked at you the way kids look at strangers who might steal something. You crouched a little so you were closer to his height and offered a soft smile.

“Hi, Megumi. I’m going to be staying with you at night sometimes. Is that okay?”

He shrugged, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Toji exhaled through her nose. “Didn’t ask if you needed one. Just be polite.”

You stayed crouched, hands resting on your knees. “That’s fair. I wouldn’t want one either if I was you. But maybe we can just… hang out? I brought a book about sharks if you want to look at it later.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t change much, but his eyes flicked toward your bag for half a second. Toji watched the whole exchange with her arms crossed, still not fully convinced. She gave you a short nod toward the couch.

“Alright. You two talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

She walked away, leaving you alone with a skeptical little boy who clearly didn’t trust a single word coming out of your mouth. You sat down carefully on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectful distance and waited to see if he would say anything else. Megumi stayed standing a few steps away, arms crossed tight over his chest, he squinted up at you, voice flat and a bit rude.

“Aren’t you too old to be a babysitter?”

Toji’s voice cut through the apartment like a knife. “Megumi! Be nice to the lady or I’ll throw away your toys.”

He flinched but didn’t look away from you. Before you could even open your mouth, Toji shouted again from the kitchen doorway.

“Do you want a cup of tea, sweetheart?” 

You turned toward her first, nodding quickly. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Only then did you look back at Megumi, your voice stayed soft. “I’m twenty-five, that’s not that old. But yeah, I get why it looks weird.”

He didn’t answer right away. You shifted a little on the couch, trying not to seem too eager. “Do you like the sea? Or animals in general?”

Megumi’s arms loosened just a fraction. “I like animals.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Well, I know a lot about sea animals. What’s your fav?”

He hesitated, glancing once toward the kitchen where Toji was still moving around with the kettle. “Sharks. The big ones.”

You nodded, genuine this time. “Great white? Or something cooler like a hammerhead?”

“Both,” he muttered.

You started telling him a little fact about how hammerheads can see almost all the way around their heads, for a second his eyes actually lit up. He sat down on the far end of the couch, still not close, but closer than before. The two of you talked in quiet voices about different sharks and how some of them could go forever without stopping.

“That’s so cool, miss. How do you know so much about sharks?” Megumi asked, twisting his fingers in his lap now, more relaxed. 

“I’ve been studying them for some time,” you explained with a tiny smile. 

“Really? And why do you work as a babysitter when you could be working with sharks?” 

Toji could see how your smile faded a little, looking for the right answer. She quickly entered the conversation, with two cups of tea in her hands. “That’s enough, kid, you’re asking her too many questions.”

“I only asked one!” he exclaimed, pouting at his mom. 

“More than enough, now go play in your room while I talk to Miss Y/N.” She whooshed Megumi away and she sat down on the couch near you, her knee bent over the couch. She waited for her kid to go to his room and close the door with another pout. 

“He’s a lovely kid, ma’am,” you told her right away, taking a sip of the tea. 

“You won him easily after talking about animals,” she smiled, thinking about how much money he makes her spend on visiting the zoo. “Alright, you’re pretty much hired. Starting tonight if you’re free.”

You blinked, a little surprised it was that easy. “I am. Thank you.”

She jerked her chin toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is.”

You followed her through the small apartment. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, towels already folded on a shelf. Megumi’s room had a low bed and a shelf full of animal books. Her own room she only pointed at from the doorway, not inviting you in. Back in the kitchen she opened the fridge and a couple of cabinets.

“If you get hungry, eat whatever you find, I don’t care. Just don’t leave a mess.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Toji closed the fridge door and looked at you straight on. “Some nights I might get home later than four. If that happens, you stay until I walk through that door. Don’t leave him alone, got it?”

“I understand. I won’t leave until you’re back.”

She held out her hand again, you shook it, and this time you could notice how rough her palm felt, how steady her grip was. Up close she seemed even taller, something about the way she moved left you a little in awe. You had never met anyone like her.

Megumi watched the whole thing from the couch, still skeptical, but he didn’t say anything rude this time. Toji ruffled his hair once, then looked back at you.

“Be here by ten-thirty tonight. I’ll text if anything changes.”

You thanked her again and stepped out into the hallway with the feeling that your life had just tilted a little sideways.

The first two weeks of the work were fine, Megumi was already asleep when you got there, so it’s a pretty chill job. You take a nap before coming and spend the nights with an energy drink, working on your projects and homeworks. You are already thinking about what you are going to do for your final degree project, worried about it not being good enough for your teacher’s high expectations. Fushiguro’s house has a nice table in the living room where you can sit and work, she even gave you the wifi password. Toji has been arriving at the agreed time every day, she always comes back sweaty and in a bad mood. She barely talks to you except when she pulls out a wad of bills to give you your pay for that day. You know better than you question about it, sometimes she gives you extra money when whatever she does goes well. 

But you can’t help yourself to be slightly worried about her, a woman like her, who knows what she’s doing to keep her and her little kid afloat. You know there’s no way someone like you can help her in any way, but something inside of you wants to pull her into your arms and comfort her. Something about her screams a need of comfort, a need for someone to run her hands through her hair and whisper silly things that make her giggle. You know it’s so unprofessional, she’s technically your boss, and she’s older and more mature than that, but gosh, you would give anything to be the one to hold her in your arms. 

Tonight, you decided to just rest on the couch with a movie on in low volume and a cup of instant ramen that you brought yourself (you still feel bad about getting something from their fridge) when you hear the door of Megumi’s room open, it’s almost half past three a.m, so you instantly know something’s wrong. You give the kid time to go right to you, hair flat and messy from the bed, hugging tight a dog plushie. 

“What happened, Megumi?” you ask softly, pausing the movie and leaning your elbows in your thighs. The kid doesn’t answer, so you try again. “Do you want to sit and talk with me?”

He shakes his head fast. “I don’t wanna talk.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Do you want to sit and watch a movie with me?” you offer, giving him a kind smile and showing him your palm for him to take. 

“Sure. Can you play something cool like How To Train Your Dragon?” He jumps on the couch, hugging his plushie tightly.

“Of course, Megs, I love that movie.” You quickly put it on the TV, watching Megumi closely, you know he just had a nightmare and you understand that he doesn’t want to tell you about it, so you just let him calm in this way. 

As the movie rolls, Megumi starts to relax on the couch, he stops gripping his toy so tightly and rests his back on the couch, what surprises you the most is when he drops his head on your arm, he’s not big enough to rest it on your shoulder so he just stays like that. You’re very careful not to move, noticing how Megumi’s breath starts evening out. His little head is warm against your arm, the dog plushie still tucked under his chin. The movie keeps playing quietly, dragons soaring across the screen, but you barely watch it. You just sit there, heart soft and a little full, hoping he stays asleep.

The front door clicks open.

Toji steps inside, boots heavy on the floor and looking exhausted. You twist your head just enough to catch her eye and quickly lift one finger to your lips, eyes wide in a silent plea for quiet.

She freezes mid-step, then nods once, shutting the door carefully behind her.

You shift as gently as you can, sliding one arm under Megumi’s knees and the other around his back. He makes a tiny sound but doesn’t wake, you stand slowly and carry him down the short hallway to his room. You lay him down, pull the blanket up to his shoulders and tuck the plushie against his chest the way he likes it. He curls into it without opening his eyes.

When you step back out, Toji is waiting by the couch, arms crossed, watching you.

You speak in a low voice. “He had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep. I just let him sit with me until he calmed down.”

Toji’s face softens, looking totally different from her usual hard expressions. “Thanks,” she says, quietly. “He doesn’t do that with most people.”

You give a small shrug, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing and how the apartment feels different with her in it. “It’s okay. He’s a good kid.”

She nods once more, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out the usual wad of bills, adding an extra note without comment. You take it, fingers brushing hers for a moment that feels longer than it should.

“Go home and get some sleep,” she tells you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You gather your things, still a little warm from carrying Megumi and from the way Toji had looked at you just then.

You ignore completely the blood sitting under her nail beds.

A week later the nights had settled into a rhythm, but tonight the clock on the living room wall already read five in the morning and Toji still wasn’t home. You blinked hard against the heavy pull of sleep, sitting up straighter on the couch for the third time. Megumi had stayed asleep the whole night, which only made the silence louder.

The front door finally opened.

Toji stepped inside looking terrible, fresh cuts marked her arms and one cheek, blood soaking through the side of her shirt and staining the fabric dark. She moved carefully, jaw tight, eyes tired and empty.

Your heart jumped straight into your throat, you were on your feet before you even thought about it.

“Toji, what happened? You’re bleeding…”

She waved a hand at you, voice rough. “I’m fine. Go home already.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to her instead of toward the door. “You’re not fine, let me help. I can clean the wounds at least.”

“I said leave.” She tried to brush past you, but you stayed planted in her path, stubborn even though your hands were already trembling a little.

“I’m not leaving until you let me look at them. Please. I know how to treat wounds”

For a second she stared at you, too exhausted to fight against you, then she exhaled hard through her nose and jerked her head towards the hallway. 

“Fine. Come on.”

You followed her into her room for the first time, the space was simple and a little messy, but what caught your attention were the boxing gloves hanging on the wall and the pair of heavier ones resting on a chair. You understood everything quicker than you expected, keeping your reaction and questions to yourself. This was what she did every night, how she brought money to her household.

Toji sat down on the edge of the bed with a quiet groan, then reached under the mattress and pulled out a small med kit, dropping it beside you without looking up.

“Be quick. You need to rest,” she muttered. How was she worried about you when she was this visibly hurt? 

You knelt in front of her, opening the kit with careful hands, heart still racing from the sight of all that blood and from the way she had finally let you stay beside her. 

“I’m going to take off your shirt, is-is that okay?” You tried so hard to not stutter, but the view of Toji’s body made you tingle. She simply nodded, and when she tried to take off her shirt herself, she winced, so you quickly took the fabric in your hands, softly raising it over her shoulders. “There ya go. The cuts aren’t too deep, just a big one over your ribs.”

Oh, her body, her beautiful and strong body that made you blink hard when you were face to face with her torso. She didn’t have any wounds on her back, so she laid on the bed and you sat by her body, starting to dab disinfectant on them, hearing her hiss at it. 

“Sorry. I’ll be quick,” you tell her, now taking care of one just below her breast. She was still wearing a simple sports bra, sweat making the sides darken, her boobs were pressed to it, like they were fighting to spill out and breathe. 

You kept your hands gentle as you dabbed the disinfectant along the cut under her breast, careful not to press too hard. Every small movement of your fingers against her skin made your pulse jump, you could feel how still she was beneath you, watching you work.

“How do you know how to treat wounds like this?” Toji asked after a moment.

You glanced up at her face for a second before focusing back on the gauze. “Oh, I just wanted to learn. I watched a lot of videos and practiced on myself whenever I got scrapes. Figured it might be useful someday.”

She huffed a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. She started slowly relaxing as you kept talking, explaining little things about cleaning deeper cuts and why you started from the center outward. Your voice stayed soft the whole time, like you were afraid of breaking what was forming between you. 

“I’ll clean the one on your face too, if you let me,” you asked, before you did anything. 

Toji nodded, a little breathless from the sting of the alcohol and your body hovering over hers. “Yeah, go ahead.”

You cupped her left cheek, turning her head until the angry cut was facing you, you cleaned it with water first before starting with the disinfectant. Without even realizing, you started rubbing your thumb against her skin. Toji’s eyes stayed on your face while you worked, after a while she spoke again, quieter this time.

“No one’s ever treated me this soft before.”

You paused with the clean cotton on your hand, looking down at her properly. Her expression was open in a way you had never seen, tired and even vulnerable

“You deserve to be treated soft,” you told her, meaning every word. “Even if you don’t think so.”

That fell hard on her chest, she never thought that her babysitter would say something so beautiful. This past month, she has seen you getting along with her socially awkward boy, you took care of him every night and now you were even taking care of her. She felt weirdly safe around you, too intimate for the little interactions you had.

When the last wound was covered you sat back a little, eyes heavy and neck sore. “This should work for a while.”

“Thank you for this, sweetheart, you really didn’t have to.” She tried to get up, wincing a little from the pain. 

“Be careful.” Without thinking, you placed a hand over her shoulder and lower back, helping her get up. “I don’t think you should move that much, ma’am.”

She laughed at how you kept being polite regardless of the situation. “I need to take a shower now or tomorrow I’ll stink.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fine. I’ll stay just in case your wounds reopen.”

“That’s not nec–”

“Yes, it is, ma’am. Please go shower.” You nodded towards the bathroom door and she did what you told her without complaining. 

The sound of running water filled the apartment. You meant to just rest your eyes for a second while you waited. The mattress was warmer than your own and smelled faintly like her. Your body gave in before you could stop it, by the time the shower stopped, you were already curled on your side, completely asleep on top of the covers.

Toji stepped back into the room with her pajama on, she stopped when she saw you. For a long second she just stood there, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing. She thought about taking the couch, but the cuts along her ribs still burned every time she moved so she carefully lowered herself onto the bed beside you with a little grunt.

She meant to keep space between you. She really did.

But after twenty minutes, your body shifted on its own. Your arms slid around hers, careful even in sleep, and you tucked your face into the curve of her neck.

Toji froze. She should have moved you. She should have woken you up and sent you home. Instead she stayed perfectly still, staring at the ceiling while your arm stayed wrapped around her. The weight of you against her side felt better than anything she had felt in a long time. Too damn good. She closed her eyes and let herself breathe in and ended up falling completely asleep in less than thirty minutes, the fastest she has ever fallen asleep in her whole life. 

Morning light slipped through the thin curtains when Toji’s hand gently shook your shoulder.

“Hey. Wake up.”

Your eyes fluttered open and for a second you didn’t understand where you were. Then the feeling of her body so close, the smell of her skin still on your face, hit you all at once. You sat up so fast the bed dipped, face burning hot.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I fell asleep and then I–”

Toji caught your wrist before you could scramble off the mattress completely. Her grip was careful, mindful of her own bandages.

“Wait, don’t fall off the bed. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Her voice was steady, but somehow she sounded awkward. “I laid down next to you when I should’ve made you go home. That was unprofessional as hell. If you want to stop working here after this, I get it. Completely.”

You shook your head so hard your hair fell into your eyes.

“No. No, please don’t say that.” The words tumbled out fast, embarrassed and honest at the same time. “I’m not quitting. I’m really fond of Megumi. And of you too.”

The last part came out faster than you meant it to, not really thinking about it. You kept your eyes on the sheets between you, heart still racing, waiting for her reaction.

Toji cleared her throat and looked away for a second, trying to keep her face neutral even though warmth was already curling in her chest at your words.

“Alright,” she said, voice steady like it was no big deal. “You wanna stay for breakfast then? Megumi’s gonna love seeing you here when he wakes up.”

You nodded right away. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

The two of you moved into the kitchen together. Toji started the rice while you washed some vegetables and cracked eggs into a bowl, the domestic sounds filling the small space. Every time your arms brushed or she reached past you for a pan, the same soft tension from the night before flickered between you again. She didn’t say much, but the way she kept glancing at you made it clear she wasn’t as cool about all this as she was pretending to be.

A few minutes later footsteps padded down the hallway. Megumi appeared in the doorway, hair sticking up in every direction, eyes still half-closed and one of his plushies dangling from his hand. He didn’t even blink at the sight of you standing next to his mom at the stove. He just shuffled over to the table and climbed into his usual chair.

“Morning, mom. Morning, miss,” he mumbled, rubbing one eye. “What’s for breakfast?”

Toji glanced at you over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was fighting a smile, then turned back to the pan.

“Eggs and rice. Sit tight, kid.”

“Mm, that’s fine,” he answered, taking his big glass of orange juice and slowly sipping on it. 

“You’re not gonna ask why Miss Y/N is here?” Toji pointed out at you with her spatula as you bit back a laugh. 

Megumi shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t really care. It’s nice having her here, tho.”

Now you fully laugh while Toji scoffs at her son while she rolls her eyes. 

Breakfast stretched longer than it needed to, Megumi kept yawning between bites of egg, his little legs swinging under the table while Toji quietly pushed more rice onto his plate every time it got low. You sat across from them, chopsticks in hand, trying to act normal even though every time Toji’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, your chest tightened. She looked different in the soft morning light, gentle around the edges.

When the last of the food was gone, Megumi slid off his chair and went to find his school bag. Toji stood and started gathering the dishes, moving carefully around the bandages you had put on her the night before. You rose to help, rinsing plates beside her at the sink. Your shoulders brushed once. Neither of you said anything about it.

“I’ll drop Megumi at school,” she said after a moment, voice casual because it was already decided. “Then I’ll take you home.”

You shook your head, drying your hands on a towel. “It’s only a ten-minute walk from here. I can go by myself, really. You’ve already done enough.”

Toji turned to face you fully, one hip against the counter, arms loosely crossed. “It’s the least I can do after last night. Just get in the car.”

There was no real room to argue when she used that tone. You nodded, cheeks warming again and followed her out once Megumi was ready.

The drive to the school was short and filled with Megumi’s sleepy chatter about some cartoons he watched with you one night. Toji answered everything he said. When she parked and he climbed out, he paused by the open door long enough to look at both of you.

“Bye, mom. Bye, miss.”

Then he was gone, bag bouncing against his back as he ran toward the school gate.

The second the door shut, the car fell quiet and Toji pulled back into traffic without a word. You stared out the window, watching the streets pass, hyper-aware of how close her hand rested near the gear shift. The silence wasn’t empty. It felt charged, you could still smell the faint trace of her soap from when you had buried your face against her neck only hours earlier. Your fingers curled against your thigh to keep from fidgeting.

She stopped right in front of your building and cut the engine. For a long moment neither of you moved. 

“Thanks again,” she said finally, voice lower than before. “For… all of it.”

You turned toward her, heart already beating faster. “It’s alright. I meant what I said earlier. I don’t mind.”

She shifted in her seat, one hand still on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh. Her eyes searched your face like she was looking for something she wasn’t sure she should find.

“You didn’t have to be that careful with me,” she added after a beat. “Most people aren’t.”

“I wanted to be,” you answered softly. “You looked like you needed it.”

Toji’s gaze dropped to your mouth for half a second before she caught herself and looked away, jaw tight. You felt the same pull she did, the space between the seats suddenly felt too wide and too small at the same time. You leaned a little closer without meaning to, she did the same, the leather of the seat creaking quietly under the shift of her weight.

Your eyes met again and this time neither of you looked away. Her breath was warm when it brushed your cheek. You could see the faint scar near her lip, the way her lashes lowered just slightly. Your heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt, the distance closed until you could feel the heat of her skin, until your noses nearly touched, until the world outside the car stopped existing—

A sharp car horn blared right beside the driver’s side window.

You both jerked back at once, faces flushed, the almost-kiss shattered in the air between you.

“I’ll-I’ll go!” You jumped without meaning to. “Same time tonight, right, miss Fushiguro?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Take care of yourself.”

“You too!”

You are so embarrassed, so fucking embarrassed. Why did you try to kiss the mother of the boy you babysit? It’s so unprofessional! So rude! You practically fled up the stairs to your apartment, keys shaking in your hand as you unlocked the door. The second it closed behind you, you dropped your bag and pressed both palms to your burning cheeks. 

How could you do that? Almost kissing her, the woman whose neck you had nuzzled in your sleep like some clingy idiot. Oh but she had leaned in too, that was the worst part!

You paced the tiny length of your studio, replaying everything. The way her breath had felt against your cheek. The scar near her lip. How soft her voice had gotten when she called you sweetheart right before you ran away. 

She was definitely just being nice. Or maybe she was as embarrassed as you. 

You collapsed onto your mattress and stared at the ceiling, phone clutched against your chest. Maybe you should text her. Something casual, ask how her wounds were doing. That was polite, right? Responsible, even.

You opened a new message and typed.

Hey, just checking if the bandages are holding up okay

Delete.

Hope the cuts aren’t hurting too much today

Delete.

About this morning…

Delete delete delete.

Everything sounded stupid, like you were fishing for attention. You felt fifteen again, lying on your bed with a racing heart and zero chill, crushing so hard it made you want to scream into a pillow. This was ridiculous. Adults did not get this flustered over a woman who could probably bench-press a car.

Your phone suddenly vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with her name.

Toji.

You almost dropped it.

For a second you just stared, pulse hammering in your ears. Then you answered, voice a little higher than usual.

“H-hello?”

There was a short pause on the other end, then her low voice, quieter than normal.

“Hey. It’s me. Listen… I’m dropping Megumi off with a friend of mine tonight. So I was thinking… if you’re free, maybe we could go to get some drinks. My treat, of course.”

Your mouth went dry.

“A date?” You said before realizing how stupid it was. Of course it was a date!

You can hear her laugh, she definitely has a cocky smile on her face now. “Yes, a date. Nine works for you?”

“Nine is great!”

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll pick you up.”

Toji hung up with a tiny smile on her face, you were so sweet, so cute. She can imagine you with the brightest smile on your face, already wondering what you should wear and all that stuff. 

After that, she gets ready herself, putting on her best pants, a tank top and a leather jacket. She even applied some mascara on her eyelashes and a soft cherry lip balm just for you.

“Why is Miss Y/N not staying with me today? I like her more than Shiu,” Megumi mutters in the car, crossing his arms in his chest.

“She’s busy tonight, kid.” Her eyes are focused on the road and she doesn’t answer Megumi, because she’s getting too excited about seeing you outside of her house and she’s not going to tell Megumi anything about this. 

Toji pulled up in front of Shiu’s building, Megumi climbed out of the back seat with his backpack and the same stuffed dog he always carried when he stayed somewhere new. Shiu was already waiting by the door, cigarette hanging from his lips and surprisingly, out of his suit.

“Go watch TV,” Shiu told the kid, nodding toward the living room. “There’s snacks on the table.”

Megumi gave Toji a quick look, then disappeared inside without argument. The second the door shut behind him, Shiu leaned against the frame and exhaled smoke.

“I did that deep dive you asked for,” he said, keeping his voice low. “On the girl.”

Toji crossed her arms, waiting. “And?”

“Apparently, no one has been hiring her for regular jobs because both her parents are in jail for child neglect. She never told anyone herself, but one of her cousins finally reported it to the police about five years ago.”

Toji didn’t move. That made no sense. You were so soft and calm, naive in the best way, you were always sweet to Megumi, careful to not mess anything up. You always had a smile on your face even if it was five a.m. Something clicked on Toji’s mind after a second of silence, was that why you knew how to take care of wounds? 

Shiu watched her face. “You good?”

“Yeah. I’ll come pick Megumi up tomorrow, thanks man.” She patted his shoulder once and walked back to her car without waiting for his answer.

Toji forces herself to put all her worries, doubts and questions to the side, now focusing on enjoying her little date with you.

You’re waiting by your door when she pulls up, you’re radiant. Fresh curls framing your face, a nice green skirt and top moulding to the curves of your body and some sparkly eyeshadow on. Toji gets out of the car to greet you, giving you a kiss on the cheek while her hand rests on your lower back. 

“You’re gorgeous today,” she whispers as she pulls back from your cheek.

She opens the passenger seat door for you, letting you step inside with your kitten heels. 

“Thank you. You look good too.” You are trying so hard not to be weird or, at least, extremely awkward. You watch how Toji circles the car before starting to drive. “Where are we going tonight?”

She turned her head while starting the car, giving you a side smirk, and you knew exactly what she’s going to answer. “Surprise.”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, but you would let her take you everywhere. You and her ended up at a nice bar with low lights and jazzy music after a fifteen minute ride, she ordered a drink for you, betting that she knows exactly what type of drinks you enjoy.

She watched expectantly as you sipped on your orange-y drink and your eyes lit up. “It’s delicious, oh my god, what’s in this? Mango?” 

“Mhm. And vodka too.”

“Well, duh. How did you know I love mango?” you said, still impressed by her and by how tasty that drink was. 

“You just have that vibe,” she told you. 

You were sitting on the bar, close but apparently not close enough for her because she’s hooking the leg of your tall chair with her feet and pulling as closer to her as possible, her arm resting around the back of it, now shamelessly playing with the strap of your top. 

“That doesn’t feel like a compliment, ma’am,” you laughed and she scoffed right away. 

“Please just call me Toji, every time you call me ma’am or miss Fushiguro, you make me feel old as fuck,” she scolded you, taking a sip of her own beverage. 

You nodded eagerly. “I’m sorry… Toji,” you tested her name on your lips. 

“That’s better,” she praised, now tickling the back of your arm. “I ain’t that old.”

You laughed under your breath, softer than usual because her fingers against your skin distracted you. The ambience wasn’t helping, a warm and almost empty place with sexy music melting in the background, it made you feel the moment belonged only to the two of you

“How old are you then?” you asked, turning toward her a little more. Your knee brushed hers under the counter and neither of you moved away.

Toji smirked around the rim of her glass. “Thirty-five. Ancient, according to you college kids.”

“I’m twenty-five,” you reminded her, smiling. “It’s not that much.”

“Ten years.” Her thumb brushed the soft spot just above your elbow. “Does it bother you?”

You shook your head right away. “No. I like it.” The honesty surprised even you, but the drink was already loosening the usual filter in your head. “You’re steady. I like steady.”

Her eyes lingered on your face for a second longer than necessary. “Steady, huh? That’s a first.”

You took another sip of the mango vodka, the sweetness coating your tongue and making your shoulders feel lighter. “What do people usually call you then?”

Toji’s mouth curved. “Dangerous, difficult, a bitch too.” She leaned in a fraction closer. “Take your pick.”

“I’ll stick with steady,” you said, feeling brave enough to hold her gaze. “It fits better.”

She laughed under her breath. “You’re something else, you know that?”

The conversation drifted easily after that. You told her about the thesis that kept you up most nights, the way your professor expected perfection and how you were terrified it still wouldn’t be enough. She listened without interrupting, occasionally asking questions that showed she was actually paying attention. In return she talked a little about Megumi, about how he used to refuse to speak to anyone new for weeks and how surprised she had been when he acted relaxed so quickly around you.

“He trusts you,” she said. “That’s rare.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “I like him a lot. He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” Her eyes softened for a second. “You’re good with him. Better than most.”

By the second drink your cheeks felt properly warm and your words came easier. Toji’s hand had settled fully on your shoulders, pressing her fingers into your skin every time she leaned closer to speak.

“You’re staring,” she teased after a while, one eyebrow raised.

“I am not,” you lied, even though you absolutely had been looking at the way her arms flexed on her sleeveless top. The alcohol made the words slip out before you could stop them. “You’re just… really nice to look at.”

Toji’s smirk widened. “That so?”

“Mmhm.” You took another sip for courage. “Especially when you smile. You should do it more.”

She shook her head, but the smile stayed. “You’re getting bold.”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, laughing at yourself. “Blame the mango.”

When a slower song started, something soft and swaying, you found yourself even braver. You turned fully toward her, fingers playing with the edge of your glass.

“Dance with me?”

Toji’s eyebrows lifted for half a second, then she set her drink down without hesitation.

“Yeah. Come on.”

She stood and offered her hand, you took it, letting her lead you a few steps away from the bar to the small open space near the speakers. She pulled you in close right away, one hand settling firmly on your waist, the other keeping your fingers laced with hers. Your free hand rested against her shoulder, feeling the solid strength under her top. You looked up at her while the two of you moved. “You’re so strong,” you whispered, in wonder. Your fingers pressed lightly against the muscle of her shoulder. “So, so strong.”

Toji’s hand on your waist tightened just a little. She leaned down until her mouth was right beside your ear, quiet enough that only you could hear it.

“You like that?”

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, a little breathless. “I really do.”

She hummed in her throat, the sound vibrating against your cheek. Her thumb started stroking slow circles against your side. “You look so pretty right now. You always do, but now more than ever.”

You blinked slowly, looking at her through your eyelashes. “Why now?”

“Because you fit so well against me, don’t you see it?” She takes the opportunity to take your hand and spin you around, making you giggle. 

She wraps her arms around you once again and you let your head rest a little closer to her shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of her perfume.

“Toji.”

“Mm?”

“Can I ruin the vibe for a moment?” you asked her, without lifting your head from her chest although you could feel her move. 

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You stayed quiet for a second, fingers absently tracing the fabric of her shirt near her collarbone.

“I’m a little worried about your job. The… the wounds and the way you come home sometimes. I know it’s not my place, but I still think about it.”

Toji’s hand on your waist squeezed gently, like a reassurance. She leaned down so her nose was right against yours.

“Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours about it. I’ve been doing this a long time, I know what I’m doing.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing even if the worry didn’t fully disappear. “Okay… I’ll try not to.”

“Good girl,” she whispered, the praise made your stomach flutter all over again. “You just keep looking after Megumi and looking this pretty. Leave the rest to me.”

You nodded against her shoulder, letting the subject drop the way she wanted. The song changed to something even slower, for a few more moments you simply stayed pressed close, enjoying the solid feel of her body against yours. Then the alcohol and the warmth of her attention made you braver once more.

You lifted your head just enough to meet her eyes.

“Can you take me to your house?”

Toji’s eyebrows rose a little. “Do you wanna leave already?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “But the night isn’t over.”

Her eyes darkened just a fraction, the hand on your waist tightening in a possessive way, she didn’t tease you, she nodded once and laced her fingers with yours.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

You were still giggling when Toji unlocked the door to her apartment, a little breathless from the drinks and the way she had kept her hand on your lower back the entire walk up the stairs. The second the door clicked shut behind you she turned, scooped you up like you weighed nothing and set you carefully on the kitchen counter. Your kitten heels dangled above the floor as her hands stayed on your waist.

“Someone’s got a low alcohol tolerance,” she whispered, eyes amused as she looked up at you. “Two drinks and you’re already this giggly.”

You tried to protest, but another quiet laugh slipped out instead. Toji only shook her head, reached for a glass and filled it with water from the sink. She pressed it into your hands and stayed right where she was, standing between your knees.

“Drink,” she ordered gently. “All of it.”

You obeyed, sipping while her thumbs stroked slow circles against your hips through the fabric of your skirt. When you finished the glass she took it from you and set it aside, but she didn’t step back. Her hands stayed on you, keeping you right there on the edge of the counter.

Toji’s expression shifted a little, softening into something more serious. She exhaled through her nose and gave your waist a small squeeze.

“I’m gonna be the mood killer now,” she said, voice lower. “But I really wanna know. Why did someone like you accept a babysitting job like this? You’re smart as fuck. Does nobody want to hire you or what?”

She joked, raising her eyebrows, although deep down she was dying to see if you would lie to her. She didn’t need a full confession, but she wanted to know if you were going to be honest with her. 

“Yeah, more or less.” You shrugged your shoulders, resting your hands on hers. “Uh, this is so embarrassing. My parents are in jail, they used to be very shitty to me. But it’s fine, I swear, I barely remember anything from my childhood, so I can just ignore it.”

Toji’s heart sank to her knees, her hands cradling your face now. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

She pulled you forward hard, wrapping both arms around you so tightly it forced the air from your lungs. You clung back just as desperately, face buried against her neck, the solid heat of her body making every old wound inside you ache and soothe at the same time.

“You don’t deserve any of that shit,” she growled against your hair. “Not a single fucking bit of it. You hear me?”

You nodded against her, a small broken sound slipping out of your throat. Toji made a wounded noise of her own and started kissing your face like she was trying to rewrite every memory. 

Hard, open-mouthed kisses on your forehead, your temples, the wet tracks of tears you hadn’t even realized were falling. She kissed your cheeks, the corner of your mouth, the soft spot under your jaw, breathing heavily between each one. When she finally brushed a sweet, closed-mouth peck against your lips, it was so gentle it made your eyes sting.

She didn’t pull far away afterward, your thighs were still parted around her hips from where she had set you on the counter and you could feel how tense her body had become, how tightly her fingers dug into your skin. Your own pulse was racing, your panties getting wetter and wetter with each of her touches.

“I can be your mommy,” she rasped, the words filthy and tender at the same time. “I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You want that? You want me to be your mommy?”

Everything in you surged forward, you started at her, completely wrecked and so turned on it hurt

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, Toji.”

It takes her nothing to lift you and take you to her bed. No one has ever been so tender with you, peeling your clothes slowly and kissing every dip of your body. She hooked her fingers in the sides of your underwear and dragged them down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind her without looking.

“So wet for mommy,” she muttered, already dropping to her knees between your thighs. “Open up.”

You spread your legs without thinking, face burning, brain going soft and empty the way she seemed to want. Toji didn’t tease. She dragged her tongue through your folds in one filthy stripe, then sealed her mouth over your clit and sucked hard.

A broken sound tore out of you. “Mommy, fuck!”

“That’s it,” she growled against you, voice vibrating straight into your core. “Let me hear it. You’re allowed to be loud.”

She ate you out with broad strokes of her tongue, then focused flicks right where you needed it most, two fingers already pressing inside while she sucked. You clenched around her, hips twitching, hands fisting the sheets because you didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Mommy, please more, please nghhh”

“Greedy little thing,” she praised, curling her fingers and rubbing that spot that made your vision spark. “So fucking pretty when you beg. Keep going. Tell mommy what you need.”

“Y-Your fingers… deeper please, mommy, I wanna come–”

She went with three fingers now, stretching you open while her tongue worked your clit in wet circles. Every time you moaned her name she answered with another filthy compliment, telling you how tight you were, how good you tasted, how perfect your cunt felt around her fingers.

When you finally came it was messy and loud, thighs shaking around her head, your voice cracking on a desperate “Mommy!” that made her groan like she was the one being touched. She crawled over your body, her fingers still deep inside of you.

“Mommy’s gonna breed you now,” she whispered against your mouth. “Gonna fuck this pretty cunt with my fingers until you take every drop I give you. You want that? You want mommy to fill you up?”

You nodded too fast, brain completely gone, chasing the feeling of her thick fingers still moving inside you.

“Yes please, mommy, breed me mmm make me take it–”

She sat back enough to watch her own fingers disappear into you, thrusting harder, the wet slap of it filthy and perfect. Her free hand pinned your hip down so you couldn’t squirm away.

“That’s my good girl. Taking mommy’s fingers so well. Gonna pump you full, sweetheart. Gonna make this cunt drip for days.

You let yourself go completely dumb under her, you stopped thinking about anything else that wasn’t her fingers bullying your gummy walls, your tongue lolling out of your mouth and your eyes rolling back.

“Mommy, mommy- please! Nghh- breed me, I-I need it–”

“I know you do,” she rasped, fucking you harder, the heel of her palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. “Mommy’s got you. Gonna fill this tight little hole until you’re leaking down your thighs. Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Mommy, thank you, thank you– ahh!”

She kept her promise. She finger-fucked you through a second orgasm, then a third, talking the entire time, telling you how pretty you looked stuffed full of her fingers and how she was going to keep breeding you until you couldn’t think of anything else but her. And you just lay there and took it, soft and dumb and completely ruined for anyone who wasn’t her.

After a whole night of sex, she pulled you into her chest, cradling you and kissing your face with tenderness. She didn’t ask you for anything in return, she kept you in her arms the whole time, waiting for you to come back from your high. 

“Toji…” you whispered. 

“Shhh,” she shushed you, knowing damn well that you will get embarrassed now. “You did amazing, sweetheart. Imma keep you forever.”

That made you smile, you quickly lifted your head, staring at her eyes. “If you’re gonna keep me forever, you have to promise me to be more careful with your job. I don’t want to cure your cuts every other day.”

“Hm. Really?”

“Yes, Toji. Promise me that you’ll be careful.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding slowly and kissing your forehead. “I’ll be more careful with myself, doll. I’ll try, at least.”

You hummed in content, now fully relaxing in her chest, trying not to think about how you’re definitely going to be sore tomorrow, and damn, maybe a few more days after that.

support me on ko-fi

a/n: this is so poorly developed and definitely a complete mess but guess what i don't care #newmotherfigureunlocked

He snorts as an answer, still concentrating on his nails.

"C'mon! I'll only take the dead parts. You'll look fresher and sexier."

Gyro turns fully toward you now, eyes narrowed. "You're bribing me with the word sexier?" "Is it working?" "No." You grin and scoot until you're basically in his lap. "Please?" He stares at you for a long second, then sighs the kind of sigh that means he’s already losing. "If you mess it up, I'm never letting you near my head again." "Deal."

You practically bounce off the couch and drag him toward the bathroom before he can change his mind. You make him sit on the closed toilet lid while you dig through the cabinet for the scissors and a comb.

"Okay, lean forward a little."

You start combing through the long blond strands. They're thick and soft until you get to the ends, which are indeed dry and split. You take the first careful snip. Just a tiny bit. Then another. Then you notice one side is a little longer than the other, so you fix it. Then the other side needs fixing again. Then the back somehow got uneven.

"You're taking forever," Gyro mutters, eyes closed. "Beauty takes time." "You've been at this for twenty minutes and I still feel the same weight." "That’s because I’m being precise."

You're panicking. Every time you try to even one section, another section looks worse. You keep chasing the length around his head, the floor is covered in blond hair, your hands are starting to sweat.

"Almost done," you lie.

You step back to check, the front is okay and the sides are… shorter. The back is shorter still. You try to blend it. You fail. You try again. You fail harder. At some point you realize you've been cutting in a weird U-shape without meaning to.

Gyro shifts. "Why is it so quiet?" "I’m concentrating." "You're breathing weird." "No I'm not."

Your heart is doing something illegal in your chest. You take one more desperate pass at the sides, trying to make everything match and suddenly the length is gone. What used to brush his lower back is now barely grazing his shoulders. A bob. A very uneven, slightly triangular bob.

You freeze.

Gyro must feel the air change because he opens his eyes and tries to look at you in the mirror. "You good?" "Yup. Super good." Your voice is two octaves higher than normal. "Finishing touches."

You set the scissors down very carefully, then you walk around in front of him, take both his hands and look him dead in the eyes.

"Promise me you won't get mad." His brows pull together. "What?"

"You have to promise, Gyro!"

He stares at you, squinting his eyes. "I guess I promise."

"Swear on your horse."

"I'm not swearing on Valkyrie."

"Gyro!" You hit his shoulder, starting to get really nervous about this terrible outcome.

"Jesus, fine. I'll swear on Valkyrie that I won't get mad. Happy?"

You nod, still holding his hands, and slowly step aside so he can see the mirror.

There's a long, terrible pause.

Gyro's face goes through the five stages of grieving in barely six seconds. His face expression settles in pure horror, his hands slowly rise to his head, afraid of his own hair

"What… the fuck." "Remember you promised," you pointed out, covering your mouth with your hands in embarrassment. "What did you do." "It was uneven so I fixed it and then it was still uneven so I fixed it again and then it kind of… kept going." His voice cracks. "You gave me a fucking bob." He turns his head left. Then right. The movement makes the short ends swing in a way his long hair never did. His eyes go shiny. "Oh my god." "Please, don't cry."

"I look like a mom." A single tear actually slips down his cheek. He wipes it away aggressively, still staring at his reflection without believe that it's him. "I had hair. Beautiful hair. People stopped me on the street for that hair." "It'll grow back." You're trying your best He turns to you, face red, eyes wet and points a trembling finger at the scissors still sitting on the sink. "You’re never touching those again. Ever. Do ya hear me?"

"Loud and clear." You nod fast and step a little closer. "You promised you wouldn't get mad." "I'm not mad. I'm grieving." Another tear falls and he laughs once. "I look like I lost a bet."

You carefully wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his chest. "You're still hot." "No." "I'm serious. The jawline is really popping now." He sniffs. "Shut up." "And think about how fast you'll dry after showers." "I hate you." "You love me." "I hate you a little." He leans his head against yours anyway, still staring at the mirror with the expression of a man who just watched his identity get chopped off in real time.

"We'll go to the hairdresser tomorrow. My treat!" You pat his chest, before taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed for the good cuddling session he deserves.

taglist: @carinemylove @jelxqa @swamelon @liliesofth3valley @angelicaero @batwngs @vivalamal @zucu @kentonanamishousewife @jh0pesjuicylefttoe @pomegranate-shortcake @munji-tunji @blueccaat @fatalxfantasy @ethernalimerence @goodluckjane @irisgrrl @amibutamy @Julsfire555 @vcmpirus @corey-66 @evilari111 @lowkbumbl @janosaki @cindol

He snorts as an answer, still concentrating on his nails.

"C'mon! I'll only take the dead parts. You'll look fresher and sexier."

Gyro turns fully toward you now, eyes narrowed. "You're bribing me with the word sexier?" "Is it working?" "No." You grin and scoot until you're basically in his lap. "Please?" He stares at you for a long second, then sighs the kind of sigh that means he’s already losing. "If you mess it up, I'm never letting you near my head again." "Deal."

You practically bounce off the couch and drag him toward the bathroom before he can change his mind. You make him sit on the closed toilet lid while you dig through the cabinet for the scissors and a comb.

"Okay, lean forward a little."

You start combing through the long blond strands. They're thick and soft until you get to the ends, which are indeed dry and split. You take the first careful snip. Just a tiny bit. Then another. Then you notice one side is a little longer than the other, so you fix it. Then the other side needs fixing again. Then the back somehow got uneven.

"You're taking forever," Gyro mutters, eyes closed. "Beauty takes time." "You've been at this for twenty minutes and I still feel the same weight." "That’s because I’m being precise."

You're panicking. Every time you try to even one section, another section looks worse. You keep chasing the length around his head, the floor is covered in blond hair, your hands are starting to sweat.

"Almost done," you lie.

You step back to check, the front is okay and the sides are… shorter. The back is shorter still. You try to blend it. You fail. You try again. You fail harder. At some point you realize you've been cutting in a weird U-shape without meaning to.

Gyro shifts. "Why is it so quiet?" "I’m concentrating." "You're breathing weird." "No I'm not."

Your heart is doing something illegal in your chest. You take one more desperate pass at the sides, trying to make everything match and suddenly the length is gone. What used to brush his lower back is now barely grazing his shoulders. A bob. A very uneven, slightly triangular bob.

You freeze.

Gyro must feel the air change because he opens his eyes and tries to look at you in the mirror. "You good?" "Yup. Super good." Your voice is two octaves higher than normal. "Finishing touches."

You set the scissors down very carefully, then you walk around in front of him, take both his hands and look him dead in the eyes.

"Promise me you won't get mad." His brows pull together. "What?"

"You have to promise, Gyro!"

He stares at you, squinting his eyes. "I guess I promise."

"Swear on your horse."

"I'm not swearing on Valkyrie."

"Gyro!" You hit his shoulder, starting to get really nervous about this terrible outcome.

"Jesus, fine. I'll swear on Valkyrie that I won't get mad. Happy?"

You nod, still holding his hands, and slowly step aside so he can see the mirror.

There's a long, terrible pause.

Gyro's face goes through the five stages of grieving in barely six seconds. His face expression settles in pure horror, his hands slowly rise to his head, afraid of his own hair

"What… the fuck." "Remember you promised," you pointed out, covering your mouth with your hands in embarrassment. "What did you do." "It was uneven so I fixed it and then it was still uneven so I fixed it again and then it kind of… kept going." His voice cracks. "You gave me a fucking bob." He turns his head left. Then right. The movement makes the short ends swing in a way his long hair never did. His eyes go shiny. "Oh my god." "Please, don't cry."

"I look like a mom." A single tear actually slips down his cheek. He wipes it away aggressively, still staring at his reflection without believe that it's him. "I had hair. Beautiful hair. People stopped me on the street for that hair." "It'll grow back." You're trying your best He turns to you, face red, eyes wet and points a trembling finger at the scissors still sitting on the sink. "You’re never touching those again. Ever. Do ya hear me?"

"Loud and clear." You nod fast and step a little closer. "You promised you wouldn't get mad." "I'm not mad. I'm grieving." Another tear falls and he laughs once. "I look like I lost a bet."

You carefully wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his chest. "You're still hot." "No." "I'm serious. The jawline is really popping now." He sniffs. "Shut up." "And think about how fast you'll dry after showers." "I hate you." "You love me." "I hate you a little." He leans his head against yours anyway, still staring at the mirror with the expression of a man who just watched his identity get chopped off in real time.

"We'll go to the hairdresser tomorrow. My treat!" You pat his chest, before taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed for the good cuddling session he deserves.

taglist: @carinemylove @jelxqa @swamelon @liliesofth3valley @angelicaero @batwngs @vivalamal @zucu @kentonanamishousewife @jh0pesjuicylefttoe @pomegranate-shortcake @munji-tunji @blueccaat @fatalxfantasy @ethernalimerence @goodluckjane @irisgrrl @amibutamy @Julsfire555 @vcmpirus @corey-66 @evilari111 @lowkbumbl @janosaki @cindol