“reversal of the heart” actually captured my heart. the way you wrote it felt so natural and I’m glad it headed in a different direction than straight-up angst…lol….i don’t think I would’ve been strong enough for that…..you’re excellent at characterizing these characters and it’s genuinely just beautiful writing. bravo
TAGS/WARNINGS;; angst, slow-burn but I’m impatient, guilt, nudity (not very explicit), kissing, fluff, everybody needs a hug
@m00dycr4nkybitc @brumous11
NOTES;; FINALLY GOT MY LAZY ASS TO WRITE I’M SO SORRYYY. Also I have received several asks for part 8, but I just wanted to honor this one, because it was the first ask/comment I had received when I first started this series, and look how far we've all come. Thank you so much, anon, as well as everybody else, for hanging on so far <3
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
Megumi does not reply. His head is bowed to the ground, as if Toji’s words felt more like blows to his back. A sense of coldness has frozen over his impassive expression. You realize that he has little sympathy for his son, and although you do not think that he would demean or insult him, you knew silence hurt more than anything. Silence meant apathy, disappointment, quiet rage, and you knew the knowledge of that hurt more than a scolding, no matter how harsh.
“Any reason why?” He asks. He is only met with a sniffle. Tears are silently rolling down the boy’s cheeks. Enough, you think, hoping that Toji would spare the boy some words of comfort. Megumi’s small; his stature weak and unassuming next to his father’s broad, intimidating form.
Toji radiates anger, the fury in his eyes replacing the soul-crushing relief you had seen when he had seen his son at the police station. He had been awake for days, wild with fear, his head in his hands, weeping, asking you what he had done wrong for his son to not to want to stay in the same house as him.
You knew that Megumi was not aware of that, and no matter how much you wanted him to understand. You don’t think he has even seen his father cry. To a child it would only seem that their father was disappointed. Although you knew there was no way to justify his actions, you knew that Megumi only wanted his father’s attention, to see some sort of indication that he was cared and loved for. Perhaps that was why he always kept getting in trouble whenever Toji was around.
“Well?” Toji says harshly, and you wonder if you should confront him now, or later-
“Because I hate you.” Megumi blurts out, then stiffens in horror. His eyes widen when he registers what he said. You see for the barest of moments; how Toji’s expression changes into one of grief, before settling back into an expressionless mask.
“I see.” Megumi opens his mouth, more tears rolling down his cheeks, trying to explain. His eyes flit back and forth, his lip quivering uncontrollably. His lips move silently, the words dying in his lips which echoed what was left of them.
“You’re grounded,” Toji says. “For making your mother worry.” It’s all he manages before the tremor in his voice threatens to give away. He stays pauses, for a moment, but then it gives away to silence. He had nothing left to say. How could he scold his son for something which he thought he had brought on?
He walks away, feeling his heart cave in. Megumi’s breaths are quick and shallow as he stares after his father's form. You run to the boy as he collapses.
“You need to apologize, okay, Megumi?” You said softly, when he regains his composure. He nods, hiccupping slightly.
“I know you did not mean it, but we don’t say things like that to people that we love.” You continued.
“Are you angry at me too?” He asks, while you wipe his tears with the pad of your thumb.
“Nobody’s angry at you, Megumi. We were worried but now that we’re all together, it’s alright.”
“You still love me, right?”
Just when you think that things have improved, you seem to fall back into square one. Tsumiki has become quieter, Megumi mostly cooped up in his room, and Toji rarely at home. The frigidness in his eyes returns, and you see him soundlessly brush past you whenever he runs into you.
Megumi occasionally looks up at you, his lips quivering, but you could offer little comfort, mostly grasping his hand and giving it a squeeze. You know you cannot brush the incident off like it had been nothing, but you did not want to scare the boy either. So you decided to keep your distance and prayed that it would not be taken the wrong way. The walks to school with Tsumiki had gone quiet as well and it suffocated you, the unresolved tension which resided in the house.
“What?” You finally ask, exasperated.
“I didn’t say anything.” He muttered, looking away.
“You keep staring at me, like-” You protest.
“You’re just imagining it.” He replies coolly.
“I would rather have you tell me rather than silently glare at me; you know?” You demanded. The black look in his eyes doesn’t leave him. You could feel his eyes boring holes at the back of your head; wasn’t everything going well a few days ago?
“You did the same thing when you were at the Zenin Estate.” He winces at that. Ah, you indeed had caught on.
“It isn’t like pretending like everything is normal is going to make anything better.” His mouth twists into an ugly expression, his eyes narrow and accusing.
“I’m not here to fix you Toji.” You said quietly.
“Bold of you to assume that I’ll change because of you.” He sneers.
“Is it really wrong to want to spend time with you?” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” He says stiffly. Does the man even hear himself?
“What do you mean you-” You yell. “Toji!”
“What?” His voice rises, fury clear in his eyes. “Is there really anything more to talk about?” Was he really just going to storm off like this?
“I’m not trying to fix you!” You scream, feeling your eyes sting.
“Clearly you and I aren’t any happier. I’m the last person who is going to make you happy!” He hisses.
“You have made me happy-” You swallow. Your throat hurts. “These couple of days were wonderful-”
“Are you really going to take those couple of days over a whole year?” He bellows. What had gone wrong? Why was he suddenly angry at you?
“So you’re just going to walk out?”
“Don’t you think it’s time we had a break from each other?”
“This is just going to make it worse.” You plead. “Please, just stay and tell me.” He feels like a child when he hears you say that, and it makes him angrier. In his right mind, he probably would not have taken in the wrong way, but the problem was that he wasn’t. He was angry, a random sequence of buttons pressed underneath his skin, making his face feel hot, heart thudding against his chest.
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” You see him deflate slightly even as he grits his teeth. “I honestly think whatever’s done, it’s going to be the same, and it’s going to be an endless loop of this and getting your hopes shattered.”
“It won’t-”
“Just quit it, Y/N. It’s annoying, and it is pointless.” He says coldly. The truth was that it was a cycle he can’t escape from, building and then sabotaging his own relationships past the point of no return. He had been selfish and failed to create a proper relationship with his children, and because of it he had lost Megumi’s mother.
Was he really thinking of her at a time like this?
-Could he not be satisfied with what he had? He knew exactly what was going to happen. He was going to fall back into misery, point out bits and pieces where you fell short; reducing you to a poor replacement for-
(Then break it. Break the cycle. All it cost was his pride wasn’t it? This whole argument was his fault wasn’t it? He just wanted to drive a wedge between you and him because he felt like shit.)
He pushes back the thoughts far, far down. No— he cannot do this to you, not you. He was vile, the worst of the worst; he knew, and you did not deserve that kind of cruelty. He was not going to bring you down to him.
“You’re so mean.” You whisper, salty tears spilling from your eyes. “I can’t believe I fell in love with such somebody who’s so mean to me.”
“Then don’t.” Toji’s voice wavers for the slightest of moments before he goes silent. He cannot continue. If he stays, he knows he would say something he would truly regret. He quietly walks away, his heart sinking.
He doesn’t think he has ever seen you cry before.
“Y/N.” His voice is soft, quiet. Night has fallen. He had been out for the rest of the evening.
“No.” He hears in reply, your voice still shaky from tears. His feet silently pad across the room as he makes his way to the corner of the bed and sits down. Close enough to talk, but far enough for you to tell him to leave. The bed creaks slightly with him shifting uncomfortably on it. He cannot see your face; your entire body is buried under a pile of blankets in an attempt to muffle your crying; save for your hands which peek out of them, tightly hugging a pillow.
“Apologize first.” You say. You half-expect him to scoff and walk out of the room, say that you are overreacting; or perhaps argue that he was hurting too, so why didn’t you understand?
But you’re met with silence instead. No sound of distaste leaves his mouth, and you feel the bed slightly shift.
Realizing his mistake, Toji lies down next to you. You hiccup slightly as he places a hand on your shoulder. Warmth radiates from his palm and you feel it even through the literal layers you have created in an attempt to distance yourself in case he tries to coax you into forgetting the moment.
“I was wrong.” He admits. “I’m sorry.” The guilt does not leave him completely, still a bitter residue in his mouth as he hears you weep. He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, strangely heavy, offering you to brush it away. When you don’t, he takes it as a notion to move closer in an attempt to comfort you.
Gently pulling you to his chest, he presses a kiss over the locks of hair which have escaped through the mound of blankets. He lets go the moment you begin to shift and turn towards him. The dim lighting does not hide your tear-streaked face. He cups your face for a moment, his thumb brushing under your eye before he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. The urge to stay angry at him gradually leaves as he tenderly cradles you to his chest.
“I think I’m ready to talk about it.” He breathes. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now, but I just want you to know how I feel.” Because I cannot stand seeing you in pain like this.
“You always know the right thing to say.”
“You’re the only person who seems to think that.” You reply weakly.
“So do the kids,” He pauses. “Our kids.”
You open your mouth but he continues, laughing mirthlessly. “Well, they’re more like your kids. They don’t really, uh, like me that much.”
“That isn’t true.” You say.
“It is, damn it.” He mumbles. “They’re really happy, and I’m so glad you love them too. I mean, they’re not your own so I always thought it would be extra baggage or…no, that came out wrong. I mean, I don’t think they’re baggage but, you probably wanted somebody to have your own with; not that I would be any good at that either-”
“Toji.” You shake your head. “Nobody is any kind of baggage, okay?”
“I’m…” His voice wavers. “I’ve never been good with kids. I won’t try to deny that, but…”
“You make it look so easy.” Toji laughs. “It used to make me jealous. Until you began to spend time with me.”
“At first, I thought it was an act, so it used to irk me but then over time it felt different. I have realized that you’ve been kind to me, and I know I have not reciprocated.”
“I’m not...used to affection. It’s difficult.” He admits. “I know that this is not a proper apology, but for what it’s worth, I do want to spend time with you. I don’t just want to throw a bunch of words at you without any kind of explanation. You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, because I hurt you. I just…” —He grasps your hand as he says this— “I really hope I can make it up to you.”
You do not see much of Toji after that, but his words echo in your head. You have never seen Toji speak more than a couple of sentences strewn together, and yet his words were sincere, heartfelt. It is difficult to tell what the man was thinking but you knew that he would have rather stayed quiet, as was his habit; but he didn’t.
“Toji-oh my god-” You gasp as he stumbles into the house, drenched in dirt, the side of his face caked with dried blood. He is limping, leaning against the wall to steady himself. You knew what kind of work he engaged in, but you had never seen him carry it out, and now you had a pretty steady idea of it.
“Ran into trouble.” Toji grunts, as if that would explain everything. His eyes, normally focused into a shark-like stare, were now darting back and forth, pupils narrowed into pinpoints. Part of his clothing were ripped in places, blood seeping out of the numerous lesions inflicted on him.
You were surprised that he could stand so nonchalantly like it was a nothing out of the ordinary. Wait, did something of this sort happen every single time on his missions?
“I’m fine.” He murmurs, seeing your expression. You are not sure if he says it to console you, or if he is delirious from the blood loss and really does not register any sort of pain. You are horrified, but at the same time relieved. Delirious or not, at least he managed to find his way home from wherever the hell he had to go to.
“You need to wash your wounds.” You insist. Sleep has completely left you; you could not possibly sleep until you’re sure that he has been attended to.
You wince, and automatically place your hand on his chest, making sure to not brush over any of the horrendous-looking gashes which had broken through the skin, allowing the situation to sink in. He does not complain, and the only thing you hear is both of your breaths mixing, for the briefest of moments.
“It’ll get infected, Toji.” More like several wounds. The best-case scenario was that he was going to bleed out on the bed for the rest of the night. The worst-case scenario? Most likely multiple infections which would result in a trip to the hospital. He hated being sick to begin with, much less having to stay inside a ward with other sick people and nurses who would constantly remind of it.
He was tired. He decided that he was only willing to indulge you for the next couple of days.
When he peels off his shirt you try not to stare. The man looked like he had been fucking mauled in the streets. You really hoped he had taken his shots (no, not alcohol, that would just thin the blood. Shots as in injections).
“Just strip.” You sigh, and he raises an eyebrow.
He scoffs. “If you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked.”
“Are you stupid?” You snap at him, with little warning. “You look like you’ve been in three different accidents, I’m not just leaving you here. I don’t care how manly or whatever you’re feeling right now, because you also look like you’re going to bleed out into the goddamn floor.”
He’s scowling now; the dazed veil over his face completely gone. “Just go to bed.”
“No, you listen to me,” You hiss back. “Shut up and get in the bathtub.”
He’s still glaring at you like a petulant child, when he does. Part of you cannot believe that even in such situations, he chose to act aloof.
“Maybe where you’re from, you’re used to walking around having an 8-inch gash splitting your chest, but we don’t do that here.” You mutter.
“This is my house too.”
“This is our house, and I’m calling the shots now, since you’re clearly not in the mood to.” His face is flushed red; clearly, he has never been scolded like this.
He winces when he sits down, the warm water stings his skin, as you bring a bundle of washcloths. He freezes when you reach for him, cupping the side of his cheek. It relaxes him somewhat—it is a luxury to have a home he could return to, even more so to have somebody waiting for him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I got them?” He mutters, half-expecting you to bombard him with questions he would be too tired to answer.
“Go ahead, I think I can answer one before I faint.” He says, and your lips quirk up slightly. You wring the washcloth, gently dabbing it over his chest. He winces slightly, but does not protest.
“Whoever did this to you,” you say. “They look worse than you right?” Toji pauses for a moment, before grinning.
“Good.” You frown when you see that the water has changed to a faint shade of red. He watches you drain the tub before letting it fill up again. The sound of running water is repetitive yet soothing as he watches you methodically press the cloth over his skin, very gently scrubbing the dirt off unbroken skin. He shifts slightly to make the task either for you, yet can’t help but study the way your lips formed a tight line, your brows furrowed in concentration.
Your gaze occasionally flickers to his. It looked ridiculous, the size of your palm against his broad back. You have to drain and fill the bathtub a third time, and a second bundle of washcloths before the water becomes clear, before focusing on a proper shower.
“You can do the rest yourself; I think.” You say, wringing the cloth a final time. You make a mental note to throw them in the washing machine in the morning, you didn’t want Megumi to see such a gruesome mess in the morning of his birthday; but it’s 3AM. After the initial height of adrenaline you got from trying to finish wrapping up the wounds, you were somewhat at ease after you managed to drag him in the bathroom. “I’ll wrap you up when you’re done. Don’t catch a cold.”
“I think you’re doing a better job than me.” Toji says, and you find no sarcasm in his voice. However, his eyes glint slightly, as if some idea had struck him.
“Weren’t you complaining about how much it was hurting a few minutes ago?” You tease.
“I changed my mind; I quite enjoy being fussed over by you.”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s about. Aren’t you the sort to prefer doing things by yourself, though?”
“Mmm. But I still think you will do it faster. Don’t you think I’m a bit clumsy when it comes to cleaning up?”
You snort. “I can tell from the way you enter the room, darling.”
He does not appear to sense the slight jab. “Plus,” He continues. “Haven’t you been working all day? I think you should have a nice, warm bath too.”
You blink, confused for a moment. “I mean it-wait-” Your mouth drops in horror when you realize the full intention of his words. His hands, which had been resting on your waist, tightened for a brief moment. You had not even noticed-
“Toji, no-” You gasp as you feel yourself stumbling sideways as he pulls you in with one swift movement. You collide with his chest, and yelp as your ankle collides with the side of the tub., as your hands wildly flail for something to hold on to. You fall into his arms; his hand clutching the back of your head to prevent you from hitting the wall. There is a loud splash with which half of the water from the bathtub spills out into the tiles, not before drenching your clothes completely. Toji is laughing, his voice loud and booming, his eyes screwed shut when he sees your bewildered expression.
“Oh my god, you’re horrible.” You hiss, rubbing your ankle before slapping the side of his arm, making sure to not aim over any of his injuries.
He grins. “That’s my consolation prize for yelling at me. Now strip.”
“Wha-” Your face reddens.
“Hurry up, you don’t want to catch a cold, yeah?” Did he just-
You glare at him and he sniggers. “Ass.” You murmur. “So this was your grand plan, huh?”
“I’m quite proud of it. I thought of it not more than a few seconds ago.” His fingers slightly tug at the hem of your shirt.
“How dastardly.” You mumble. At least the water is relatively clear, not that you could really take a bath without being distracted by his shit-eating grin while you sat on his lap. The bath was slightly bigger than a regular one, built to accommodate Toji’s huge frame, leaving you with ample space. Feeling your face heat up, you slowly began to strip, pulling the shirt over your head. It feels heavy from the water, sticking to your skin, and you struggle for a moment.
“Toji.” You groan as you hear him quietly start laughing again. “Shut up.”
He’s snickering when he helps you pull it off. You squeak when he begins to tug at your pants impatiently, lifting yourself up slightly to allow him to. Your hands awkwardly cover your chest in order to have some semblance of modesty. However, he clearly has different plans in mind when he pulls you up to his level, fulling pressed up against him.
“Ow-damn, this was way sexier in my head.”
He’s still smiling when you cup his face in your hands, gently lifting his face to kiss the top of his nose.
“Oh my god-” He rolls his eyes before pulling you in, planting his lips on yours. It’s a brief brush of the lips, not long enough; and before you know it, he pulls you closer, his fingers moving down the length of your back, while your hands run through his hair. Your skin tingled wherever he touched you, before settling into a warm sensation which rested on your chest; the butterflies in your stomach calming down to embrace the moment. You don’t remember the last time you have been kissed like this, and when you pull away his face is equally flushed as his breath fanned over your lips.
“You should have done that first.”
“I couldn’t think of a proper excuse.”
“Really?” You whisper, and he smiles against your lips.
“The excuse is that I haven’t seen you all day.” Toji says and kisses you again. It’s slower, sweeter.
“Okay, from now on you don’t need excuses to do it.”
When Megumi wakes up, he finds himself snuggled up against her. Over time, he finds it easier to call her his Mom. Every time he does, he feels a pang of guilt; but from the way her face glows with pleasure, it softens the sting. The more the days pass, the less harsh the sting feels. He sometimes scolds himself when he does not feel it, but then consoles himself.
Mama would have wanted him to be happy.
He studies her face. She does not look like Mama at all, but when he sees how her hands grasps his, he thinks she’s beautiful, maybe not in the way Mama was, but beautiful nevertheless.
He shifts slightly, careful not to wake her up, but bumps against something else.
“Morning, Megs,” He freezes, then whips his head to meet his father’s eyes, shocked.
“Dad.” He croaks, wondering if he’s still dreaming at the moment. His father’s stoic expression is replaced by a softer one, most likely because he had been half-asleep before startling his father awake. Megumi exhales when his father’s features soften more when he offers him a smile. Suddenly he thinks he is going to cry. The weight in his throat becomes heavier when his fingers ruffle his hair.
“I’m sorry.” Megumi manages to say, before going quiet. His eyes are watering.
“’s bad luck to be sad on your birthday, peanut.” His father says, and he feels his hand rub his back. His father’s arms are rough, strong; familiar.
“Besides, I forgave you when you came back home.” He continues. “So don’t be sad, okay?”
“I was mean. I said I hated you.” Immediately the weight returns. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I said that, I’ll never say that again-”
“I know Megumi. Don’t be sad, yeah? You’re safe, that’s really what matters.”
“Okay.” He mumbles, his hands reaching up to cling to his shirt. He sees a glimpse of the gauze wrapped carefully around his chest, and frowns. “What happened?”
“Just work, you know. I fell. Your mom patched me up.” He explains. Megumi does not miss the glow in his eyes when he mentions her. “Had to stay a bit longer so I could be home for your birthday.”
Oh. So that was why he had not seen him all day yesterday.
“You’ll be home, then?” Megumi asks. His dad smiles; it’s rare to see him in a good mood, but Megumi’s glad he is. He liked Dad better when he was happy. He talked more, held him more. It made him feel warm.
“Yeah, I’ll stay as long as you want.”
He sits up, hugging his dad. “Thanks.”
“ ’course. Birthdays are special.” He replies. “Hey, no crying. It makes me sad too.”
“No, I’m happy.” Megumi’s voice wavers. “I just feel-“
“That’s good.” Dad replies, his voice gruff. “I want you to be happy.”
This really isn’t so bad, Toji manages to admit, when he sees you standing in front of the mirror, brushing your hair. A little frown etches your face as you scrutinize yourself, your fingers pawing at the ends of your hair.
“My hair’s grown some,” You muttered, before turning to look at him. “Toji, do you like it this way, or shorter?”
When he pauses, you continue, “If you like it long, I won’t cut it.”
“You look pretty either way, do what you like.” He mumbles, his eyes flickering elsewhere. You smile.
“That’s sweet of you to say.” You reply, as you began to part your hair into sections, wondering if it was long enough for you to braid it. Toji moves closer to stand behind you, curious. He watches you for a few moments before placing his arms around your shoulder. You look up at him, and the reflection falling on the mirror reminds you once more of how bulky he is.
“I like you.” He says, before kissing your cheek.
“I like you too.” You reply, letting out a breathy laugh.
Megumi decided to ask to go to the theme park to celebrate. He doesn’t remember the first time he had gone; and from Toji’s stories, he had immediately fallen in love with it.
“It’s so run down.” Toji complains, when the children are out of earshot. You raise an eyebrow.
“You were the one telling Megs about it.” You say, and he shrugs.
“I guess it seemed nicer when I was a kid.” He replies. “It’s one of the nicer memories. Not that it was exactly for me. I think it was Jinichi’s birthday.” You recall that name from the family tree tapestry, a single line connecting his name against Toji’s. His brother.
You know very little about the Zenin clan, other than the usual banter which rose of from it being part of the Big Three. You’re just thankful for the little bits of information he tells you. Toji rarely spoke for long lengths of time, and you knew this was something painful for him to talk about to begin with.
“I once went with my sister.” You say, suddenly remembering. “I think we were both seven. Ayako spilled her milkshake all over me. I think I cried for the rest of the evening.”
“Really? I thought you were the quiet type even as a kid.”
You grin. “I’ll show you pictures sometime. I think I brought my album. It’s probably collecting dust in the attic.”
Toji looks at you, then shakes his head, his lips slightly quirked up. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m serious! I made a fuss about everything when I was younger. If only you knew me, you could have vouched for it.”
Toji thinks about when he was younger. Mostly cooped up in his room, because he was not allowed to talk to the other clan members. Jinichi used to visit him sometimes, but then stopped, the clan’s poisonous words perhaps getting to him at a young age. It was clear when you were at the receiving end of it.
He sometimes walked out. It was not like anybody would come looking for him anyway. He walks for a long, long time, until he stops, seeing a group of kids his age playing at the park. Clothes which looked brand new compared to his dusty yukata ridden with holes, no welts on their arms or legs.
He stares for a bit, not at any particular person in particular. His heart ached for somebody to talk to. But when he looks at them and then back to his own self, his hands tremble and his feet grow unsteady. He stands there for some time before making back to the Zenin Estate.
He tries to imagine a younger you running up to him and dragging him back to the park. Probably pointedly asking him about his appearance; children did not exactly speak with any filter after all; and then asking him to join you.
Yes, you did seem like the kind of person to do that. Perhaps he would have liked it.
A/N;; Y'all are too kind 😭😭😭 💜💜💜
