Toji hates coming home late. He can't stand seeing his two children already in bed, asleep. Not to mention those colleagues who brag about their children's small achievements.
Toji hates the thought of not being there for his son's first day of primary school or when his daughter decides to take her first steps.
He comes home and, no matter how tiring the day has been, he is never too exhausted to give his five-year-old son a piggyback ride or his eight-month-old daughter a tour of their little apartment in his arms while they are chased by Megumi.
He is never too tired to give you some affectionate attention, a quick kiss on the lips or on the temple.
Toji feels lucky and, above all, loved: every time he sees you or your children. Every time one of them calls him “Daddy!” enthusiastically or sulks because you scolded them.
The little girl crawls towards her father, who is sitting on the floor busy putting the pieces of a car together. Next to him, sitting intently, is Megumi, who lets out a whinge when he sees his little sister coming closer. “Dad, she'll break everything!” he complains to his father, who quickly puts his leg between his daughter and the toy parts.
Her little hands rest on his knee, covered by his trousers, and in a moment she clenches the fabric in her fists and stands up, or at least tries, as if she wants to remove that obstacle.
“me!” she manages to say with one hand open and extended towards the two males, but receives only a stern ‘no’ from her brother.
The little girl sits down and tries to crawl under her father's leg, seeing the space that has been created, but Toji is quick and lowers it, preventing her from reaching the almost finished toy.
Her big green eyes fill with tears, her lower lip pouts, and soon crying can be heard in the Fushiguro living room.
Toji sighs softly and finishes the toy car, giving it to Megumi, who thanks him and immediately runs away, afraid that his sister might take it.
“Come here.” Toji says softly as his large hands go under her arms and he picks her up; the little girl instinctively moves closer to him, her chubby cheek pressed against his chest, sobs continuing to escape and crocodile tears continuing to fall.
Toji runs his hand through her black hair, the braids made hours ago now almost undone and the hair clips barely holding her unruly fringe in place.
“Next time I'll be on your side, okay?” he whispers, smiling, aware that the little girl is not yet able to fully grasp his words.
