i’ll bet on myself.

“Why is mine bigger?” he asked one night.

“Because you’re growing,” you said immediately.

He looked down at it.

“…You’re taller than me.”

“Not for long,” you replied confidently.

From the couch, Toji snorted. You ignored him.

You played games with Megumi constantly.

Cards. Board games. “Who can hold their breath the longest.” (You always lost on purpose.)

You made it loud. Fun. Distracting.

Because if things were fun, then things were normal.

And if things were normal, then nobody would notice that the fridge had more condiments than food.

Toji noticed. Of course he did. He just didn’t say anything. Yet.

—

One night he comes home like he owns the world.

He kicks the door shut and tosses an envelope on the table.

“Pack it up,” he says.

You blink. “We’re being evicted?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. I won.”

“Oh.”

You immediately straighten. “Like legally?”

He gives you a look.

“…Zoo tomorrow,” he says instead.

Megumi freezes mid-sip of water.

“The zoo?” he repeats carefully.

“Yeah. They’ve got lions. Big ones.”

Megumi tries to stay calm. Fails. You grin. Toji pretends not to look pleased about it.

—

The zoo is chaos in the best way.

Megumi is suddenly a tour guide.

“That’s a snow leopard.”

“That’s a capybara.”

“Penguins mate for life.”

Toji chokes on his drink at that one.

“Don’t look at me,” you say, hands up.

At the food stand, Megumi orders a small vanilla ice cream. You wave off your own.

“I’m not hungry.”

Toji’s eyes narrow.

“You’ve said that eight times today.”

“Because it’s true.”

He makes a noise that suggests he does not believe you.

You all sit on a bench. Megumi takes two dramatic bites of his ice cream.

Then he pauses. Looks at you. Looks at the ice cream.

“…You can have half.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s yours.”

He frowns.

“You always say that.”

Your eye twitches.

“I just—”

“You give me the bigger pieces of chicken,” he continues calmly. “And more rice.”

You go still.

Toji slowly turns his head toward you.

“…Oh?” he says.

You glare at Megumi. Betrayed. Megumi holds out the cup.

“It’s fair,” he says simply.

Toji lets out a short laugh.

“Kid’s got you figured out.”

You cross your arms. “I was not starving.”

“You watered down soup,” Toji says flatly.

“That was called broth.”

“That was called sadness.”

Megumi nods seriously. “It was very watery.”

You gasp. “I cannot believe I’m being bullied right now.”

Toji crouches in front of Megumi.

“You sharing?” he asks.

Megumi nods.

Toji ruffles his hair. “Good.”

Then he looks at you.

“You. Eat.”

You narrow your eyes. “Make me.”

He leans closer.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Your face heats up instantly. Megumi looks between you both.

“…Are you guys fighting?”

“No,” you both say at the same time.

Megumi shoves the spoon toward you.

“Eat,” he orders.

You stare at him. He stares back. Toji crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” he adds. “Eat.”

You take a bite dramatically.

“There. Happy?”

Megumi nods and leans against your side.

Toji stands, resting his hand on the top of your head.

“You’re not allowed to shrink,” he mutters.

“I’m not shrinking.”

“You are a little,” he says.

“I am not.”

Megumi looks up at you.

“You are kind of.”

You gasp again. “Why is this a roast session?”

Toji smirks faintly.

“You don’t carry everything alone,” he says more quietly now. “Got it?”

You glance at him. He’s still teasing.

But his hand hasn’t moved from your head.

Warm. Solid. Present.

Megumi leans fully into you both.

“Next time,” he says, “we all get the same size.”

Toji huffs.

“Fine.”

You sigh dramatically.

“Okay. Equal chicken for everyone.”

Megumi smiles. Toji squeezes the back of your neck lightly.

“And if you try that watery soup again,” he adds, “I’m cooking.”

You grin up at him.

“That’s a threat.”

“Yeah.”