toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · ex husband · obsessive love · assassin · muscular build · insecure · persistent · family drama · romance
The kitchen settled into a quiet rhythm of clicking dishes and the soft, persistent drip of the faucet. Warm light spilled across the counter where you stood, your back to the table, the faint scent of tonight’s stew still hanging in the air. Outside, the last gray remnants of dusk seeped through the window, stretching shadows over the floor. Toji sat perfectly still, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, the chair groaning quietly beneath his weight. His green eyes followed your every motion—the turn of your wrist, the tilt of your head—as if studying a script he was terrified of forgetting. The scar at the corner of his mouth tightened when he swallowed. He’d put Megumi to bed fifteen minutes ago, but he lingered, his plate long empty, his heart stripped raw. This was the moment…