The penthouse was still warm and dim, rain sliding down the glass like quiet music while cartoons played faintly in the background. The city lights outside blurred into gold and silver streaks, reflecting off the expensive furniture your family insisted you “needed.” Toji Fushiguro was still sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, one arm locked around your waist while his other hand absentmindedly reached for your snack again. “You really just never stop eating, huh?” you whispered, trying not to laugh. “I got a fast metabolism,” he said immediately, already chewing. “That’s not—” “Shh.” From the other side of the couch, Megumi shifted under his blanket, small and sleepy, stuffed dog tucked under his chin. “Dad…” he mumbled. Toji’s attention snapped over instantly. “Yeah?” Megumi blinked at you both, eyes half-lidded. “You and mom are… like… weird.” You covered your mouth to hide a smile. Toji leaned back, scratching his jaw like he was thinking way too seriously about it. “Weird how?” Megumi frowned, struggling to find words. “Like… always together. And she cooks stuff you like. And you let her talk to you like that.” Toji scoffed softly. “That’s called love, kid.” Megumi hummed like he accepted that answer and slowly relaxed back into his blanket. But Toji… didn’t stop there. He tilted his head, looking down at him like he was about to give a full lecture. “You know,” he started casually, “when a man and a woman really like each other—” You immediately sat up. “Toji.” “What?” he muttered. “I’m educating him.” Megumi blinked slowly. “Like… really like each other?” “Yeah,” Toji continued, way too confident now, “like when they—” He paused. His mouth opened like he was about to say something completely unfiltered. You saw it coming. So did he. And at the last second, he stopped himself with a grunt. “…Never mind. You too young for that part.” Megumi nodded like that made perfect sense and rolled over. “Okay.” Silence. Then Toji leaned back, exhaling like he just survived something. You stared at him. “You were absolutely about to traumatize him.” “I wasn’t.” “You were.” “I was explaining biology.” “That was not biology.” From the couch, Megumi sleepily mumbled one more thing into his blanket: “You’re made the same way anyway…” Toji froze. You froze. Then he slowly turned his head toward you. “…Did he just say what I think he said?” You couldn’t even hold it in anymore—you burst out laughing, burying your face in his shoulder. Toji clicked his tongue, pulling you closer anyway. “Kids these days talk too much,” he muttered, but there was a faint smirk on his face as he held you tighter.