Toji was odd. But it was a good odd. It’s the type of odd that you wanted to keep around you. Maybe what you’re trying to say is that of all the people you’ve met, he was the most genuine, no matter how crass he could be.
“Wait, wait…you mean to tell me you married a woman…then left her…without actually leaving her?” You scratch your hairline in confusion. “For why?”
“I married her for her last name, duh,” he elaborates, like it was the most profound answer.
You nod slowly then pause. “Ain’t the wife supposed to take the husband’s last name?”
Toji takes a swig of his iced tea—well it was yours until you complained that you asked for something different—like the heathen he is. Who the fuck drinks unsweetened iced tea. “Thought you’d be proud of me,” he says after swallowing. “Going against social norms ‘n all. I’m…astonishedthat you aren’t.”
You throw your hands up. “Wow Toji, you’re so progressive, look at you, taking your wife’s name like the chad you are! So cool! So awesome!”
“I know, I know.” He nods smugly.
You scoff. “Really though, that’s it? You just wanted her last name? No romance? No intimacy? Just her last name?”
“I’m hardly attracted to her. Not really attracted to anyone these days if that says anything about me. Don’t even like sex.” He drinks from his can again.
You sit, pondering. That was a bombshell.
“Toji are you asexual?” And this was an even bigger bombshell.
Toji’s brow lifts. “Is that what you kids call it?”
“I’m literally in my twenties.”
“Same difference. You’re all starting to look the same,” he huffs. “What exactly is 'asexual’? Do I like, fuck myself and make a clone? 'Cause let me tell you, my kid looks exactly like me.”
“Oh I’m sure he does. You’re gonna need to show a picture someday.” You nudge his arm and he nudges you back hard enough for you to nearly topple off the bench. “Anyway, there’s a whole spectrum.”
“Is there now?” he says and you can’t tell if he’s interested or indifferent but you rattle off anyway.
“The basic premise is not being attracted to people sexually but it gets a bit more convoluted than that,” you start. “Sometimes it depends on the person. Sometimes you might want to still have a romantic relationship without the sexual aspect and sometimes you might actually like sex itself but not be attracted to someone sexually. You can also just hate sex and anything pertaining to sex altogether. Y'know, stuff like that.”
“That’s a lot,” he says after your explanation. “But sure, we’ll go with—whatever the hell you just said.”
“Well, Toji,” you clap him on the shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been enlightened. Being ace is cool.”
He sneers, but not at you. “You know, you’re the first person that hasn’t said some fucked up shit to me when I told them that I don’t like sex.”
You perk up. “Really?”
He nods wordlessly. “I’ve gotten a bunch of 'but you don’t look like someone who doesn’t like sex’ and 'you just haven’t found good pussy yet’ so on and so forth. Gets old.” He sort of sags in his seat.
It honestly surprised you how open he is about this. Usually men that looked like him were so guarded about these topics, especially his generation. He really is one of a kind. “So, uh…when exactly did everything start to click for you? That you had these feelings?”
“You’re so nosy,” he remarks with no malice. “But I’ll humor ya. I did sleep around when I was younger. Wasn’t a complete soy boy like you’re probably thinking now.”
“I don’t think you’re a soy boy at all,” you interject. “'Cause if you were one, you’d beat me up for asking about your sexuality. You’re so much better than that.”
That statement alone coaxes one of those timeless little smiles that look good on him. He wears them nicely.
“It was until sex was all anyone expected of me, that shit just started to not feel the same,” he continues. “Didn’t get much enjoyment like I used to, ended up getting disgusted, yada yada, couldn’t do it anymore, end of my sob story.” He throws his empty can towards the trash bin and misses.
You stand up to pick it up and toss it for him. “So I take it that you really loved Megumi’s mom, huh?”
“Yeah. About that…"—he rakes his fingers through his bangs—"the only time I enjoyed having sex was when I was with his ma. Sappy, I know.”
“Nope!” You plop down next to him once more. “Although, that does make me wonder why you even had sex with me,” you hum then pause, expression turning demure. “Wait…d'you, y'know, like me…like that?” You start twiddling with your fingers sheepishly, because there’s no way that Toji could like someone like you—
“No.”
—and you were right.
He ignores the way you gawk at him and continues to elaborate. “Just wanted to see if anything changed and…nope. Still don’t like sex, but hey,"—he flicks the side of your temple and you smack his hand—"I did you a favor! You won’t die a virgin!”
“Damn. Way to break my heart, man. You really are a heartbreaker. Don’t talk to me.” You turn away from him.
“You’re better off being a pain in my ass anyway,” he chides, voice becoming softer. “I like it like that—just…friends.”
“Aw, you called us friends,” you coo, turning to face him. God you switch up so fast.
“Yeah. And friends drain each other’s wallets,” he tacks on, standing up and relinquishing your arm. “C'mon. It’s horse race time.”
You try to yank your arm out of his grip but the only thing you would be doing is yanking your arm out of its socket because god damn is this man an absolute monster.
“Unhand me, old man…!” you cry. “You are WAY too old to be my sugar baby! I am but a mere college student…I cannot provide for your wants and needs!” you babble as he manhandles you away.
So Toji Fushiguro, a man in his mid 30’s, 182 cm, handsome and built like a tank, has a son, hates alcohol, loves meat, acts like you’re his glucose guardian, and is on the ace spectrum. How the fuck did you become friends with him.
If BIWOC readers, nonbinary BIPOC readers, plus size readers, and any readers who don’t fit conventional beauty standards could survive years reading fanfiction that only featured white women, y'all can handle reading fanfiction with BIWOC, nonbinary BIPOC, plus sized, etc. leads!
