Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Setting: Modern AU
Synopsis: You come home from work to find the apartment a mess and Toji frantically packing.
WC: 2.2k
Content Warning: Illness, lying, heartbreak
“Toji? What’s going on?” your voice was barely above a whisper as you shuffled into your shared bedroom. His torso was buried in the closet as he ruffled through the boxes at the back of it. You had just come home from work and found the living room a mess: papers strewn everywhere and empty beer bottles on the table. There was a faint odor of…cigarettes? Toji had quit smoking over a year ago after realizing it made you nauseous. When he didn’t greet you at the door with a kiss like he always insisted or answer your announcement of being home, you quickly grew worried.
“Hey, what's wrong?” you inquired further when your boyfriend of two years didn’t respond and continued rummaging. Observing the scene before you, your heart began racing. Dresser drawers were hanging half open and significantly vacant compared to normal. He had his old suitcase open in the middle of the floor, stuffed full of his clothes and other important belongings.
“Where the…?” he mumbled, throwing stuff around frantically. His hair was more disheveled than usual on a day off, as if he had been running his fingers through it all day. He still wasn’t responding to you.
“Toji,” you repeated, louder this time and thick with fear. He paused, sighing and hanging his head for a moment before standing up. The second he turned to look at you, your heart dropped into your stomach.
“What?” he said toneless, clenching his hands at his side and letting out another sigh. He looked like Toji, but you didn’t recognize the man standing in front of you. His jaw was clenched and eyes narrowed, nothing but ice behind them.
“What. Is going. On?” you demanded, trying with your entire body to remain calm. There had to be a logical explanation for the scene before you that wasn’t your worst fear. You crossed your arms in front of you to hide the fact your hands were shaking as much as your voice was.
“What’s it look like? I’m leaving,” he replied gruffly without missing a beat. He sounded detached, the tone he used in public when strangers crossed some invisible boundary around you. He swallowed painfully, trying to ignore the lump that was forming in his own throat. He had to keep up the act for just a little longer. It shouldn’t be that hard considering it had been his default manner for years before he ever met you.
“L-leaving? Where? Why?” Tears were threatening to spill over at any second, your eyes burning.
“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out.” He resumed throwing stuff into his suitcase and the cardboard box he pulled from the back of the closet, as if he were just packing for a trip and not ripping a rug out from underneath you.
“What the hell, Toji? Why?” your pain quickly turned to anger, none of this making sense. The heat was rushing to your cheeks and you knew they were getting red, exasperating your frustration. When he ignored your question again, you dug your fingers into his shoulder and yanked, forcing him to look at you. The instant his eyes met yours, you knew whatever he said next would snap the threads barely holding your heart together.
"I never saw forever with you. Only convenience. And I got bored.” His eyes flicked past you; he couldn’t force the lie out if he kept looking at you. He drew a careful breath, steadying himself long enough to sell it.
“Convenience? For two years, this was all just convenient for you? Toji I gave you everything, every part of me!” Your voice cracked and you used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the tears that were blurring your vision.
"You gave me everything, and I didn’t even want half of it," he spat, knowing it was the furthest thing from the truth. He did want every part of you, he needed every part of you. But more than that, he needed you to be okay.
This had to be a really bad, cruel, nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from yet. There was no way the past two years were just convenient to him. You saw the way he slowly tore his walls down for you, brick by worn brick. The way he had allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, and even dream of a future together with you. A future with kids, in a cute house in a small town. You had seen the way his default, hard demeanor softened as soon as he saw you after a long day at work, the way he insisted on always cooking for you, bringing you coffee in bed in the mornings, filling up your fuel tank, and all the other ways he went out of his way to be thoughtful toward you. All those things could be considered an inconvenience to him, but he never once complained or showed resentment toward you for it. The past two years couldn’t be chalked up to convenience.
Toji zipped up his suitcase and gathered the box as you sobbed, tears drenching your shirt. It broke his heart to hear you cry that hard, even more so because he was the reason for it. He strode toward the front door, trying to ignore your pleas as he fought back his own tears.
“Don’t bother calling me,” was the last thing he said before stalking out the door. It took every ounce of strength for him to not turn around and pull you into his arms to comfort you. He would be beating himself up for this for years, if he made it that long.
That morning, he had received a phone call that he never wanted to receive. He had been in the middle of finalizing the surprise he was planning for your anniversary, knowing he probably wouldn’t make it the full week left without giving it away. Not paying attention to the caller ID, he had answered the phone eagerly, expecting to hear good news for what he was planning.
“I’m calling for Toji Fushiguro,” the caller had stated blandly.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” he had confirmed, now confused about the nature of the call.
“Can you please confirm your date of birth?” they had requested. He had looked at the caller ID and tried to rack his brain for why the name was familiar. He had provided the information and waited for the typing in the background to cease.
“This is Dr. Ieiri’s office. We are calling with your test results.”
He had forgotten that he had a physical exam a few weeks ago. He couldn’t even remember how the topic had come up, but the two of you had been having one of your what-would-our-theoretical-family-look-like conversations and something had changed for him that day. The thought of raising kids that would be as compassionate and thoughtful as you was the easiest thing to want. He longed to have a family with you, and knew that a man’s health was a significant factor for how easy or difficult a pregnancy could be (thanks to one of your latest rabbit hole findings). If there was anything he could do to make you more comfortable while you carried his child, he was determined to do it. He hadn’t been to a doctor in years, having no reason for it up until now, and figured he had to start somewhere.
“What brings you in today? It looks like you haven’t had a physical for almost 10 years,” the physician asked as she skimmed his chart.
“My girl and I might be starting a family soon and she told me all about how a guy’s health can impact the pregnancy. I wana do what I can to make it easier on her,” he explained, one side of his mouth turning up at the idea of kids running around the house. She had proceeded with taking his vitals and asking standard questions.
“Any changes in energy? Any recent weight changes? How are you sleeping? Any new aches or pains?” He had to reflect on the questions for a moment: he had been more tired, but chalked it up to being busier. Lost a little weight but the two of you had been eating healthier lately. Waking up with night sweats, but the apartment ran hot. His back had been sore a little more frequently lately but didn’t think anything of it.
She had pressed further, wondering how long that had been happening, if the back pain ever woke him up, if anything relieves it. After completing the standard physical exam, she had returned to the computer and began typing.
“Your physical exam was great, no concerns there. Based on some of your other symptoms you described, though, I’d like to get some imaging. Most of it is probably nothing serious but I want to be safe,” she had explained. Toji had nodded and followed where the other staff had directed him for the imaging.
“Mr. Fushiguro?” the caller pressed when he hadn’t responded.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. Did the results come back ok?” he had urged, holding his breath. He had been required to make a few different trips to the doctor. When the CT results had come in, they wanted to schedule a biopsy to confirm the findings. Toji had refused to worry until there were definitive results.
“Please hold while I get Dr. Ieiri on the line,” the caller had said before promptly putting him on hold. Toji had sat down, tilting his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes. He had been praying for the doctor to have good news.
Once Dr. Ieiri had picked up and confirmed Toji’s identity again, she had proceeded to explain the results.
“The biopsy confirms this is an aggressive form of lymphoma. I’m so sorry. We are sending you some oncology referrals momentarily. Do you have any ques–” Toji hung up the phone before she had finished speaking.
How had it come to this? He had gone in for a checkup because he wanted to start a family with you, and now two weeks later finds out he has an aggressive lymphoma?
He had spent the rest of the morning and afternoon going through his options. He was grateful you were working so he could process without burdening you. He had done research, trying to understand what his odds were. Nothing looked promising no matter what treatment option he looked into. Of all things, he was craving a cigarette to calm his nerves. He hadn’t wanted to touch one since the day he found out the smell of them made you nauseous. He couldn’t think of a scenario where you wouldn’t be in pain. He resolved that the least of these pains would be if you hated him for leaving rather than watching him deteriorate.
Making his decision that he didn’t want to drag you along any longer than he already had, Toji knew he had to leave today. He had found your folder with important paperwork and made phone calls, putting everything in order so that you would be the beneficiary of his life insurance. He had never gotten around to making the change before, never thinking it would be urgent anytime soon.
The next call had been to his lawyer, who also happened to be a close friend. They didn’t talk often but always knew they could rely on one another.
“Hey Shiu, it’s been a while,” Toji had greeted, his voice cracking against his will.
“Toji? That you?” he had answered, concern lacing his voice. Toji could hear chatter in the background and he had felt guilty for interrupting whatever he was involved in at the moment.
“Listen, I need to make a will. I don’t have a lot of time,” Toji had explained, his throat tightening at the deeper truth behind his statement.
“The hell is going on?” Shiu had pressed, not recognizing his friend’s demeanor. In all the years they had known each other, Shiu couldn’t recall a time where Toji had shown any signs of fear.
“I’ll explain later, damn it, just help me with this.” It had taken every fiber in his body from breaking, reality hitting him like a landslide.
“Ok ok, what do you want to include?” Shiu had inquired.
“Everything. She can have everything,” he had pleaded, his hand pressing to his mouth to stifle the sob that was threatening to break out.
“What’s her full legal name and nature of the relationship?” Shiu had begun. Toji had paused. Girlfriend didn’t feel significant enough of a word to describe what you meant to him. “I just need her name. We can figure out the rest later,” Shiu had added softly. Toji had given him your full name and abruptly hung up, unable to continue the conversation at the moment. He had glanced at the clock, panicking. You would be home from work in less than an hour and he didn’t know if he could follow through with leaving if he saw you.
Now he was driving to a hotel, unable to get your broken sobs out of his head. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his days, however many that may be.
A/N: Hello! Inspo for this was a prompt idea from @bookished. I'm so sorry for the emotional damage from this one.
Reblogs, comments, and constructive feedback are greatly appreciated <3 inbox is open for requests! Mwah!
