“excuse me, is this your kid?” toji turns to meet sharp eyes and a nasty glare, noticing megumi in the arms of a stranger—said stranger being you—and you certainly don’t look happy. you know he’s the father, there’s no mistaking it. only one man in the grocery store has the same dark hair and eyes, and only one man could be carefree enough to let his child run loose as he stares at the vegetables before him.
“yeah, that’s my runt. why’ve you got ‘im?” he raises a brow at you, making you scoff. thrusting the young boy in your arms at him, you narrow your eyes as the man before you takes his son.
“he was climbing up my legs,” you huff, scowling as he snorts.
“yeah, he’s been doin’ that lately. megumi here is a little handful,” he gently flicks the toddler’s nose, chuckling as the young boy crinkles it. you think if megumi wasn’t so cute, you’d have ripped his nose right off, right along with his father’s.
“well, it’d be nice if he was your handful and not some stranger’s in the grocery store,” you say flatly, a dry smile curling over your lips. megumi babbles incoherently, stretching his arms out for you with a giggle, and toji smirks, sending you a lopsided grin.
“think he likes you,” he shrugs, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. the man before you is utterly unfit to be a father, you think, and though you can certainly see why someone would take part in the baby making process with him, the baby raising part seems a bit of a nightmare by his side.
you can only silently give your condolences to the poor soul.
