#does this gif set back this up? no

[nikolaj-costerwaldau]

"Dammit, I happen to love this country."

OPPENHEIMER (2023), dir. Christopher Nolan

[vashtijoy]

"why not join me instead?" akechi's "invitation" in conf 7

People come and go on whether this question of Akechi's is genuine or not. Opinions run the gamut from "I hate him for trying to take you away from your friends" to "Akechi wants Joker to be his accomplice".

Myself, I don't think Akechi means this as a serious question, for a number of reasons. I think this question is rhetorical.

Quick summary:

Conf 7 illustrates the similarity between Joker and Akechi, and that they're both committed to the showdown between them;

Rather than being an invitation, Akechi's question again illustrates that parallel—that neither of them will give up the things that matter to them to join the other, as Joker has asked him to do;

"I'll think about it" does not count towards the third awakening—and I can prove it. Rather, Akechi can't conceive that Joker would ever abandon his friends, and uses it as an outrageous example of something Joker would never do;

Joker's loyalty not only to his principles but to his friends is something Akechi values so much that he won't let Joker sacrifice it;

Akechi is not so much offering Joker a way out in conf 7 (there is no way out) as he's confirming for his own sake that Joker is still in the game. Is this still a battle between rivals, or is it an execution?

Let's take a look.

what is akechi really asking?

[long post is long]

Look at this line. Look at the question he's posing:

Akechi いっそ君がこっちに来るってのは?⋯今の仲間を捨ててさ。 isso kimi ga kocchi ni kuru tte no wa?... ima no nakama o sutete sa Why not join me instead...? All you'd have to do is abandon the teammates you have now.

It's very easy to focus on the first half of this question and miss the second. But that second half is the important part, the sting in the tail. The Japanese is a great example of wa building suspense: "Instead, what if you come over to my side, (AND THEN WHAT, AKECHI???????)"

The sentence is left hanging, with the weight of it unspoken (since wa emphasises what comes after it); Akechi is obviously not done speaking. And indeed, when he continues, it's a doozy:

"though, of course, you'd have to dump the friends you have now." (Yes, I think "friends" is often a much better translation of nakama than "teammates", fight me; it's even often translated as "friend" in P5 itself, or indeed, awkwardly, as "teammates and friends".)

Akechi is using the same verb, suteru, that you use for tossing something in the trash; the parallel meaning, "ending a relationship", exists in Japanese too.

Ryuji, Morgana, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, everything you've all gone through together and everything you've been—Akechi is suggesting you toss them aside like garbage. For him.

Now, I think part of Akechi would very much like Joker to do that. But he also knows better than to expect it. Because he knows Joker so much better than that.

Akechi has seen firsthand how loyal Joker is to his friends—remember on 1/2 how he says he investigated them all? He's seen some of the things Joker will do for them. He expects that blind faith to lead Joker to his death, much as Yaldabaoth does. But he also respects it.

This boy who's never had a friend, who's convinced himself the whole idea is stupid, is still drawn to the loyalty he sees in Joker. Even as he's preparing his own ultimate betrayal, Akechi recognises Joker's commitment to others. He understands treachery is bad, even though he himself is a traitor—just as he understands that murder is bad, and that doesn't stop him, either.

This question of whether or not Joker will betray his friends (and Akechi specifically) comes back on 2/2, of course—and in force.

so why does he ask

Akechi is not proposing that the two of them run off together. He's not asking to see what Joker will say. He doesn't impulsively make the invitation, and then run away when Joker says yes. He is, in fact, not even asking. He poses the idea of Joker abandoning all his friends as a counterexample. It's supposed to be something Joker would never consider, something he will find morally repugnant.

Which is why, if Joker says yes, Akechi is shocked, and essentially tells Joker not to make such stupid spur-of-the-moment decisions. Akechi is making a rhetorical point about what Joker is asking of him.

Remember Joker's statement that leads into Akechi's question:

Yeah. Joker either suggests that Akechi should give up everything he's doing and everything he believes in (even as Akechi confabulates about what those things really are), or he suggests, with the top option, that he's already done it.

And in return, Akechi says that Joker should join him... and throw away his friends and everything he's working for and everything he believes in, of course.

It's the second response to his question, where Joker turns him down flat, that makes it most obvious that this was what Akechi meant:

Joker それは無理だ sore wa muri da I'm not doing that. No way in hell. Akechi だろうね。 darou ne I thought as much. Akechi 分かるだろ、誰だって今の立場を簡単に捨てられやしないんだよ wakaru daro, dare datte ima no tachiba o kantan ni suterare yashinai n da yo I'm sure you understand. We all have our parts to play, and we can't simply leave those behind.

See what he's saying? ima no tachiba o kantan ni suterare yashinai—"we absolutely must not lightly set aside the positions we hold now".

Incidentally, yes, that's that same verb suteru that he used before, for casting aside or throwing away. Akechi is drawing a parallel between Joker's friends and his own goals—between the things each of them holds most dear, which neither of them will sacrifice, even to save the other. (Assuming you think Akechi would even be down to save Joker—but I do think conf 7 suggests that at this point, he might not be opposed to the possibility. It's just that it doesn't exist.)

the phone call

This parallel returns in the phone call afterwards, if you again tell him that you're rivals:

It's a little hard to tell from the localisation what Akechi is getting at, so let's take a close look:

Akechi 僕らにはお互い譲れないものがあって、そのためにも負けられない。 bokura ni wa otagai yuzurenai mono ga atte, sono tame ni mo makerarenai [lit. for both of us, these are things we cannot compromise on, and because of those things we cannot suffer losing.] Neither of us can afford to lose, because we fight in service of our principles. It's the same for both of us. Neither of us can afford to lose, because of these principles we won't concede. Akechi ⋯だからこそ、もしも君が自分を曲げたりしたら絶対に赦さないよ。 ... dakara koso, moshi mo kimi ga jibun o megetari shitara zettai ni yurusanai yo [lit. that's exactly why, if you were to warp yourself [that way], I would absolutely never let such a sin (t/n: note the kanji) pass.] And that is precisely why... I cannot allow you to change. ... And that's precisely why, if you betrayed yourself that way... I couldn't allow it. Akechi だって、僕が負けたくないのは『君』なんだから。 datte, boku ga maketakunai no wa "kimi" nan da kara [lit. it's you as you are now who I do not want to lose to.] As you are now, as you think now... I cannot allow you to win over me. The person you are now, with those principles, and that determination—that's the one I won't ever allow to beat me.

Here's my attempt at a translation again, so you can see it all together:

Akechi: It's the same for both of us. Neither of us can afford to lose, because of these things we won't concede. Akechi: ...And that's precisely why, if you betrayed yourself that way... I couldn't allow it. Akechi: The person you are now, with those principles, and that determination—that's the one I won't ever allow to beat me.

It turns out that this phone conversation, that was originally quite mystical-sounding and hard to follow (what were you trying to say, Akechi?) is quite straightforward. It ties into to his original question. "Will I join you, Joker? Well, what if you join me instead? Just throw away all your little friends for my sake? Of course you won't—because we're the same. Both of us have things we can't give up, no matter what—and if you tried to do that, I wouldn't let you, because I value you as you are...."

This parallel between the two of them is what conf 7 is about, from the text message that opens it to the phone call that concludes it:

It's the same thing again: neither of you can afford to lose, because you're fighting for your principles. The billiard table is the stage for this wider discussion.

The billiard scene, of course, is interesting for another reason—Akechi is giving Joker a chance to back out; he's testing his commitment, and perhaps hinting that he never intended to be quite where he is, either. He states at the outset that he's being indirect, that what he's saying is a metaphor—and then closes that metaphor with a very direct question: "Do you still intend to play this game?"

Akechi それでも君は、このゲームを降りる気はないの? sore demo kimi wa, kono geemu o oriru ki wa nai no? Even then... do you still intend to play this game? But despite all of that, you still won't fold, will you?

The Japanese is even more specific: Akechi asks Joker if he intends to fold—not whether he still wants to play, but whether he means to give up entirely! "This can't be what you expected, so how about it? Will you just give up? Does this mean as much to you as it does to me? Is this a game we both choose to play, or are you just a victim?"

How much of this is Akechi blowing smoke up his own ass?—casting the fact that he's about to murder the boy in front of him in a glowing, romantic light? Pretty much all of it, I'd say. He's dreamed of having a rival, someone to compete with who challenges him, but what he's got is quite a bit more than that.

Again, the rival imagery is what allows Akechi not only to accept this close relationship, but to frame it as a life-or-death contest that only one of them can win. It confirms to him that what Lavenza describes as "a truly unfair game" is actually fair. It's about making Joker's murder seem as much Joker's fault as his own.

but what happens if you say yes?

Despite all of this, you can choose to have Joker consider Akechi's "offer"—to discard Ryuji, Morgana, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba and Haru like trash, and assist Akechi instead. It's tempting, I know.

I don't personally get the impression that Akechi likes this response, for a number of reasons. None of the three responses to his offer score confidant points, but there's something else in play: only one of these responses unlocks his third awakening.

See the F code highlighted in yellow? Only one of these three responses has it. "You're my rival" counts towards the third awakening. Rejecting him, with "I'm not doing that", does not—but more to the point, offering to be with him, with "I'll think about it", also does not!

The issue is confused because a number of us have taken option 1 (or indeed option 2, like me) and still got the third awakening on 2/2. It seems like you need some of the flagged responses, not all of them. But it remains the case that "I'll think about it" does not make Akechi more likely to have his third awakening.

What happens if you take this option?

Joker 考えておく kangaete oku I'll think about it. Akechi へえ、考えてはくれるんだ? hee, kangaete wa kureru n da? Oh? So you'll think about it, at least? What? You mean you'll consider it? Akechi ⋯でも、そういうその場限りの情はやめた方がいい。 ...demo, sou iu sono ba kagiri no jou wa yameta hou ga ii ...But I'd advise you don't say these things without their due consideration. ... Still, it would be better if you didn't trust such fleeting sentiments. Akechi 出来もしない約束はするものじゃないよ。 deki mo shinai yakusoku wa suru mono ja nai yo You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep, anyway. Don't be the sort who promises the earth and walks away.

A few grammar points:

んだ n da on a question demands an explanation; Akechi's question could almost be rendered "Why on earth would you need/want to think about it?"

そういうその場限りの情 sou iu sono ba kagiri no jou—"sentiments that only matter here and now". Essentially, "sentiments that won't last"—or that are makeshift or ad hoc; Joker is making a stupid spur-of-the-moment decision.

yes, 出来もしない約束 deki mo shinai yakusoku translates idiomatically as "promising the earth". The point is not that Joker should not promise; the point is that he shouldn't be the sort of person who promises so much—and then doesn't follow through.

Again, this confidant is all about Akechi's expectations for Joker. It's about the weird belief he has in him, like the belief he has in Shido—that Joker has principles and friends and will stand by them, that those things are important and matter, even if they're diametrically opposed to Akechi's principles and the things he wants.

The fact that they foil each other in this way is a large part of what makes Joker such a worthy opponent for Akechi. So if Joker turns around and says, sure, Akechi, I'll dump all my friends so we can make out?

Akechi does not like that. He thinks better of him!—he loses respect if Joker offers this. Even if that little line about "promising the earth" suggests that, actually, yeah, he would quite like for the two of them to run away together—if only they lived in a world where it was possible.

what about "you're my rival"?

I've discussed this line before, but let's go into it for completeness.

Joker 明智は好敵手だ akechi wa koutekishu da You're my rival. Nah, you're my worthy opponent.

Do you see that Joker names Akechi there? He doesn't just say, "we're worthy opponents", or even "you're my worthy opponent", koutekishu da yo.

No, he picks Akechi out by name, and then tells him exactly what they are to each other. Because wa builds suspense. Akechi wa... (what?! what is he?!) koutekishu da. "I can't run away with you, because I need you to be this to me instead".

And this is the line with the F-code. This is the line that, if you choose it, will build towards Akechi's third awakening—which is centred on his trust in Joker, on the fact that Joker is worthy of that trust.

And how does Akechi respond?

He's astonished. He did not expect this at all, look:

On the left, the top screenshot where he's waiting for your answer; in the centre, the moment of shock, where he's pulled away and dropped his hand and his eyes are wide; on the right, a comparative overlay just to demonstrate that he pulled back.

smiles that aren't smiles

I have a half-assed theory that you can tell when Akechi is really smiling—because the model will smile with him. If you watch, for instance, Ryuji, the model's expressions match the sprite's almost exactly. But if you watch Akechi? Nah, not so much.

Here's an example. Akechi appears to smile quite often through conf 7—but if you glance away from the sprite and textbox to the model, the model is pokerfaced. Five smile sprites on the optimal route through conf 7, and not one of them—not even "you truly are fascinating"—matches the model:

But when you pick "You're my rival"? Suddenly the model's face springs to life:

It's obvious from everything else that this moment is of deep significance to Akechi. But this little detail with the smiles suggests we can confirm it.

and what does he say?

It doesn't take long for him to pull himself together:

Akechi 同意だね、僕らにはなれ合いより対等な関係こそふさわしい。 doui da ne, bokura ni wa nareai yori taitouna kankei koso fusawashii I agree. I think a relationship of equals suits us better than being co-conspirators, anyway...

This is another one that I find unclear in the localisation, so let's have at it.

nareai suggests an illicit or unduly-close union. It suggests "being in bed together" in the business sense—cosying up, colluding, conspiring. It suggests they're working together when they shouldn't be. Jisho uses the screamingly-outdated term "common-law marriage" (what we call "living together") as an example. Essentially, it suggests they're too close—or even co-dependent, in a way that corrupts them both.

In short? Akechi's "co-conspirators", nareai, means "accomplices"—what we might call "murder boyfriends".

taitouna kankei—literally, "an equal relationship"—is a set phrase, and we know what it means. It suggests a relationship where nobody is being cheated; where everyone gets out what they put in. Where the two of them compete on equal terms.

That's a very Akechi way to look at relationships. But it's also a relationship where nobody is in charge; nobody is dominant, and everyone has self-respect. Nobody is chasing after anyone or sacrificing unduly, as either would be if they joined the other. Everyone can be who they are and say what they want. Everyone can say no.

It's the sort of relationship Akechi very notably does not have with Shido. Is it the sort of relationship he has with Joker, when the two of them are hiding so much from each other and lying so much, and there's so much, like, murder going on? Nah. But as an aspiration, as a suggestion of the sort of relationship Akechi would like them to have, alongside everything else he's told us about how he sees the two of them—as similar, as equals and opposites, as bound by their principles, as destined to fight—it's almost touching.

and what does joker think?

Akechi ⋯たとえこの先、何があろうともだ。 ...tatoe kono saki, nani ga arou tomo da ...No matter what else may change. ...No matter what might come next. Akechi それだけの事を言ったんだから、逃げないでよ? sore dake no koto o itta n da kara, nigenaide yo? In any case, what you just said carries great weight. Remember what you decided, and don't run from it. All right? [lit. don't run away just because of what [I/you] said, all right?]

I'm not sure about this. It feels like it should be referring back to Akechi's last line—"don't get cold feet and run away just because I alluded ominously to whatever's coming next, okay?". I guess it could be referring to Joker's commitment, with "You're my rival"? IDK, I'm out on this one, so I'm inclined to give the localisation the benefit of the doubt.

But it doesn't matter. Because the significance of what Joker does next doesn't change:

He nods. Akechi spends the whole confidant hinting that something ominous is coming, and that the two of them are heading to an inevitable confrontation, and Joker nods.

I don't think this is really consistent with interpretations where Joker is a meek little sheep in the interrogation room. Joker might not have chosen this, he might not have wanted it, he might have by far preferred to avoid it. He'd happily back out if Akechi would just drop the whole thing and agree to act sane. But he's committed to it. He agrees to fight.

Remember, conf 7 takes place after Joker hears the murder phone call. He knows what Akechi is. He knows what he's planning. He knows the stakes—and he agrees to play, to face Akechi down.

To quote @nardaviel, that's no sheep. That's a full-on "Phantom Thieves win again, motherfucker" smirk. Joker played Akechi's game, with everything he had—and he played to win.

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Twilight Town - Mansion Basement

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [6/6] creatures -> ghost riders

In storm clouds just like these, phantom hunters would appear, riding black horses with blood-red eyes, and wolves and hounds at their side, baying and snarling. What were they hunting? Souls.

[knickynoo]

Marty McFly + parroting

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: EARTH (PART 1 - REVAMPED)

Ft. Staff Cmdr. Sophie Oliveira-Shepard Alenko-Oliveira, Cpt. Arno Delacroix, and Zaeed Massani-Shepard MIRA'S MORE CANON ME3 "Shadow Broker resources? Yeah, they might be good for a lot of shit, Dove. Convincing the brass to get off their asses and do something about the Reapers? Not one of them. Think that one might be up to you, this time. Entertaining diction and goddamn fucking all." Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[chloecherrysip]

Mario watching his and Luigi's commercial in Punch-Out Pizzeria

[lxnarphase]

YOURE NOT BEING LAME ABOUT IT AT ALL your posts have me on the verge of crying again too cuz now im just thinking about his final thoughts being about that and it’s about to push me over the ledge…… HEY GOD IF UR LISTENING IM FINISHED. IM OVER IT. TAKE ME OUT OF MY MISERY

logan i'm literally sitting here with dried tears all over my face because this chapter makes no sense and did nothing but hurt me and others

like the part about gojo being forced to be the monster and how no one seemed to care of all his responsibilty just broke me

genuinely, did satoru ever really feel appreciated?? did he ever feel like he was more than just the strongest?? when he was on the ground did he have any thoughts that werent about the plan the group agreed on?? im just so sad right now all i can think about is angst lo, i cant do this

imagine being gojo's spouse and hearing about his passing but also knowing about the plan and just being so devastated knowing that satoru's last thoughts might not have even been about you because you know he's so used to thinking and planning constantly on how he needs to protect everyone or how his body would be used for the fight

imagine realizing gojo might've died without knowing just how loved he was, i just cant fucking breathe rn its so over

[swordmaid]

my hag romance murder mystery au turning to magistrate astarion working with executor shri’iia we kind of like that development

[booasaur]

The Nevers (2021) - 1x12

[lucy-moderatz]

[lattehearted]

on break during a town hall for my tribe, thinking about how involved leah is in her own indigenous heritage

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[hellsbellssinclub]

Write a short one shot I say

It will be easy, I say.

Something nice and quick. You can write a whole bunch of these on your day off, I tell myself...

I am 5000 words into this one shot (that will stay a fucking one shot) for my crack ship fic and they haven't even spoken yet.

....

I hate myself sometimes

[ttsukiimi]

RICHTIVITIES!

18+ : Somnophilia!, smut

no thoughts js richhusband!Nanami who wakes you up with a cunny full of his thickness in the morning, slowly fucking you as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear he knows you can’t hear. The whole week’s got him so pent up, to the point where he needs to relieve some of his stress thru you.

richhusband!Nanami who, once you wake up, has you folded in half, your knees to your ears as he mercilessly pounds you into an absolute fucked out, crying mess. He’s got you hiccuping, begging for a break you know he can’t give you.

richhusband!Nanami who, after absolutely drilling your hole, kisses your hair and lips as you both look over the breathtaking city view from his penthouse apartment. You even resort to making breakfast together after, smiling and giggling throughout the whole process, but he just can’t keep his hands to himself.

richhusband!Nanami who—again—has you stuffed with his dick, bent over the kitchen counter with nothing but an apron on. You’re looking back at him with those innocent doe eyes of yours, a lustful longing in them. And you feel so full once he finally gives it to you, moaning and babbling about how good he’s making you feel.

richhusband!Nanami who, without question has to finish inside his wife, whispering in your ear how good you did for him. And he’s caressing you all over once more, the food now forgotten and cold on the stove. He carries you back to bed, setting you down so gently as if you’re made of porcelain—his way of promising never-ending devotion to you.

a/n— tysmmm for 500!!

[norikuna]

MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.