Chapter Text
Following the winter of his 19th birthday, Suguru married Toji Fushiguro.
It was a decision made after countless nights spent in Toji’s small, weathered home, pressed beneath blankets, limbs tangled together as the older man held him close, loving him. Toji never left his side after everything was taken from him. After Suguru was stripped of his very identity as a sorcerer.
The aftermath of the Gojo Clan’s destruction had been brutal. The higher-ups convened an emergency meeting, a court hearing in all but name. Representatives from both the Gojo and Zenin clans were summoned, along with Toji and Suguru, dragged before the council to be judged.
The charges were clear.
When Gojo Satoru had lifted the barrier, unleashing thousands of curses into protected areas, the results were catastrophic. Special-grade curses infiltrated the human world. Innocent civilians were slaughtered. Entire cities lay in ruins. The balance between sorcerers and non-sorcerers teetered on the brink of collapse.
And someone had to pay for it.
The Gojo Clan’s head, bloodied but standing, wasted no time pointing his finger at Suguru. His voice was sharp with loathing as he spat accusations, branding Suguru a whore, a lowly omega who had seduced their son, tainted him, ruined him.
Suguru fought. He fought to defend himself, to make them listen, to escape the death sentence they were eager to place upon his head. But the weight of the Gojo Clan’s fury was suffocating, unrelenting. And the Zenins, though less vocal, were just as ruthless. Their anger was directed at Toji, though, not out of true blame, but because he had defied them, made his own path, and rejected the legacy they had forced upon him.
Suguru, however, was expendable.
The decision was nearly made when Toji stepped forward, his voice slicing through the courtroom like a blade. He spoke with a confidence that rattled even the elders, laying bare the truth—how Satoru had been the one to back Suguru into a corner, how his obsession, his possessiveness, had spiraled into something uncontrollable. He told them the truth they refused to see: that it was their god-child’s fury that had ignited this madness, that had led to destruction.
The Zenin clan, true to their reputation, barely acknowledged this. Instead, they turned their scrutiny to Suguru’s status as an omega, using it as ammunition.
“This is why omegas should never be sorcerers,” they sneered. “They’re nothing but a distraction—weak, vulnerable, liabilities.”
Suguru’s fingers curled into fists. He had spent his whole life proving otherwise, defying the low expectations placed upon him.
When he had first presented as an omega, the world hadn’t seemed to care. He was too powerful, too skilled, his abilities overshadowing whatever biological predisposition others expected him to succumb to. He was neither fragile nor submissive, but he wasn’t an alpha either. His presence unsettled people, scent suppressed by blockers, heat controlled by suppressants.
He had never let it define him.
But here, in this room, among these people, his body was no longer his own. It was an excuse, a weapon wielded against him, used to explain why Satoru had wanted him so badly, why Toji had stepped in to claim him. His existence, reduced to nothing more than a catalyst for disaster.
Then, amidst the vitriol, Naoya Zenin spoke.
He didn’t take Suguru’s side. He never would. But he took Toji’s.
And in doing so, he proposed a sentence not of death, but of exile.
“The abolition of his curse techniques. He is never to step foot in the world of sorcery again. If he is caught using his abilities—” Naoya smiled, sharp and cruel, “—he dies where he stands.”
The higher-ups agreed.
Suguru’s world shattered.
Everything—everything—was taken from him in an instant.
His hands trembled as the verdict settled over him like a burial shroud. His dreams of being a special-grade sorcerer, of protecting the weak, of making a name for himself were all gone. His identity, the very thing he had built his existence upon, erased. He begged. He pleaded. He got on his knees, desperation clawing at his throat, his voice cracking as he begged them to reconsider.
But once a decision was made, it was made.
And just like that, Suguru ceased to be a sorcerer.
He walked out of that courtroom stripped bare, ruined, and irreparably broken.
During those devastating nights of hurt and defeat, Toji was all Suguru had.
The nightmares came relentlessly, the same horrific scenes playing over and over. Six glowing blue eyes, an innocent girl’s lifeless body, the fear—bone-deep, suffocating. He would jolt awake, drenched in sweat, heart pounding like a war drum, breath shuddering as he gasped for air.
Toji never left his side. He would sit up, arms wrapping around Suguru’s trembling frame, comforting him through the panic. He never said much—never whispered empty reassurances—but he held him, firm and steady, until the shaking stopped and the sobs quieted into exhausted silence.
Suguru didn’t know if he could ever forgive Satoru for what he did to him.
Since that night—the night he stood frozen, watching in horror as Satoru unleashed Hollow Purple at Toji—he had not seen him once. Satoru hadn’t been at the trial. Hadn’t been in the meeting hall. Hadn’t come to find him afterward. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, leaving only destruction and unanswered questions in his wake.
And yet, despite everything, Suguru couldn’t bring himself to hate him.
He wanted to. God, he wanted to. He should.
Satoru was the reason he lost everything. The reason he had to claw his way through the wreckage of his own life. The reason his entire future had been ripped away from him, leaving him stranded in a world where he no longer belonged.
And yet—something inside him ached.
A part of him still felt responsible.
Has he ever given Satoru the benefit of the doubt? Had he missed something—some warning sign, some plea hidden beneath all that arrogance and power?
Satoru’s actions both terrified and enraged him, but more than anything, they left him with a deep, lingering sadness. Because Satoru was hurting. He always had been. And no matter how hard Suguru had tried, he could never help him heal. And it was so fucking frustrating because no matter how much he tried to move forward, no matter how much he tried to forget Gojo Satoru—he haunted him.
There was nowhere to go. He couldn’t return to his parents, not after everything. He couldn’t bear the thought of facing them, of hearing the disappointment in his mother’s voice as she told him how much she had believed in him.
They had called him. Left messages. Pleaded for him to respond.
He never did.
But when he finally made his decision—when he agreed to marry Toji—that was when he finally returned home.
Toji had promised him everything. That he would find a way to restore Suguru’s identity. That he would help him stand again. That he would never leave his side.
Maybe Suguru was naive. Maybe he was desperate. Maybe he just needed to hear someone tell him that there was still hope.
So, when Toji asked him a second time—he didn’t say no.
His parents sat across from him at the dining table, their faces shadowed with something heavy—something unbearably human.
His mother didn’t scream. His father didn’t tell him to leave and never return.
No.
It was worse.
His mother pulled him into a hug, her voice soft, pleading. “Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Even if you can’t be a sorcerer anymore… even if you never use your abilities again… you are still our son. We are still here.”
Suguru felt his throat close up.
“We will always stand by you,” she promised. “But this… this isn’t the answer.”
She told him he would regret marrying Toji. That he was too young, too lost. That Toji was a man twice his age, a man with a past he couldn’t fully understand. That he was using him, lying to him, leading him down a path Suguru would never be able to turn back from.
“And how,” she asked, voice thick with emotion, “do you expect to raise a child who is bound to be a sorcerer when you are no longer allowed to be one?”
Suguru didn’t listen.
Being a sorcerer had been everything to him.
And Toji was the only one who could give it back.
So, he told them the truth. That they were invited to the wedding, that they could come if they wanted, but if they chose not to, then fine—he didn’t need them.
And then he left.
His parents didn’t come.
He had expected that. It was fine.
The wedding was small. Simple. Nothing extravagant, nothing fancy—just him, Toji, and Megumi in Tsumiki’s arms.
Even though his mind was spiraling, his heart aching, he still wanted to look good for his alpha. So he dressed carefully, choosing the prettiest kimono he could find, brushing his hair until it shone, adorning it with delicate ornaments. A touch of red lipstick stained his lips. While Toji, dressed in a simple yukata, stayed in the other room with a grumpy Megumi, he was right about one thing: Megumi did have some unknown dislike toward his father. He hadn’t even fully developed consciousness yet, and still, he was already acting all grown up.
Tsumiki helped him, small hands smoothing the fabric, brushing through the strands of his hair with innocent curiosity.
She was the first to say it. The first to truly acknowledge it.
“You’re really young,” she murmured, hesitant, watching his reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure about this, Geto-san?”
Suguru met his own eyes in the glass. And he smiled. “Never been more sure in my life.”
After the supposed wedding night, when both the alpha and omega took their vows, promising to be together till death do them part, they celebrated with a feast that evening, enjoying amazing food and drinks.
Later, they officially registered their marriage in court, legally binding their union.
Suguru did not change his last name. He wanted the jujutsu world to know him as Geto and not Fushiguro.
At some point, Megumi had been taken to Tsumiki’s for the night—likely at Toji’s request. Their first night as a married couple was supposed to be special, uninterrupted. It was only when Suguru entered their bedroom that he realized how much thought Toji had put into making it so. Soft candlelight flickered along the walls, the scent of fresh flowers hanging in the air. The futon was freshly made, the sheets smooth and inviting. A record played faintly in the background, a slow, intimate melody.
Suguru exhaled. He wasn’t nervous. They had done this plenty of times before. He knew Toji’s body, the way he moved, the way he touched. And yet… something about tonight was different. The weight of it settled over him, tightening in his chest. Maybe it was the realization that from now on, this wasn’t just something fleeting. He was Toji’s wife now. For life.
And suddenly, he was a bit nervous about it, his nerves firing up. Would the mating bite hurt? Was he ready for it? Was his omega ready for it? God, everything was starting to overwhelm him. Just then, he heard the door slide closed behind him, making him flinch, his heart leaping in his ribcage. Breathe, Suguru. Breathe.
“Nervous?” Toji’s asked with a chuckle. When Suguru turned, the golden glow of the lanterns made Toji look almost unreal, so enchantingly beautiful. Suguru parted his lips, but no words came. Instead, he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to fix his hair, hoping Toji wouldn’t notice the way his hands trembled slightly.
Toji did notice, of course. He always did.
A moment later, strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into the solid heat of his alpha’s chest. Toji’s nose brushed against his scent gland, his voice a low murmur against Suguru’s ear. “You look so good tonight.”
“Are you going to mate me?” he asked, voice quieter than he intended.
Toji hummed in consideration. “Maybe not tonight.”
Suguru’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at Toji, brows furrowed. “Why?”
“Don’t want to overwhelm you,” Toji said simply. “You’re still young, and the pain might last longer. We’ve got time.” He smirked, voice dropping lower as his hands roamed. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight, yeah?” he said seductively, rubbing his nose against the scent glands of Suguru’s nape.
Toji began kissing his neck, moving downward while gently undoing his kimono to reveal his back. He left soft, wet kisses along Suguru's skin, making him shiver and take in a deep breath. But before he could fully immerse himself in the bliss of it all...
Suguru swallowed hard. He should have let it go, should have accepted Toji’s words at face value, but something about them unsettled him.
“I want you to mate me,” he admitted. “It’s a ritual to do it on the wedding night.” His gaze lifted, hopeful, shimmering with something pleading, something vulnerable.
Toji exhaled through his nose, arms tightening around Suguru’s frame.
“Suguru…” He cupped his cheek, tracing his thumb along the curve of his lips, his brow, the delicate slope of his jaw. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Do you think I don’t crave to have you as mine, fully, completely?”
Suguru’s expression faltered. “Then why—”
Toji kissed his forehead, lips lingering for just a second too long. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
Suguru pouted, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ve taken you inside me plenty of times. You think I can’t handle a little bite?”
Toji scoffed. “It’s not the same thing, darling.”
Suguru didn’t respond, just huffed against Toji’s chest, stubborn.
Toji chuckled, running a hand through Suguru’s hair. “Be good for me, alright?” His voice was low, gentle, coaxing. “Trust me on this.”
Suguru breathed out slowly. It was frustrating, but it was hard to argue when Toji spoke to him like that—so soft, so steady, like he knew exactly what to say to unravel him.
“…Okay,” he murmured.
That night, all of his doubts, all of his tension, melted away beneath Toji’s body. The alpha took his time, stretching out the night as though savoring every second of it, as though memorizing the way Suguru moved beneath him. He bent him in different positions, wrung out every sound he could, left Suguru utterly wrecked and aching for more.
Suguru never wanted it to end. He loved the feeling of being pressed beneath Toji’s body weight, of being consumed entirely. He loved Toji’s body, the way he smelled—intoxicating, masculine, thick with spice and warmth like cinnamon. When things got too intense, Suguru would sink his teeth into Toji’s bicep, gasping against his skin, letting himself be lost in the pleasure of it all.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, he did not think of Satoru.
Much later, as they lay tangled together in the dim light, Toji pressed a lazy kiss to Suguru’s temple.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmured as Suguru lay on his chest, bare and breathing gently, his fingers tracing idle patterns over Toji’s hand. “And thank you for accepting my stupid son into your life.” His voice was softer than usual, as though admitting such a thing made him vulnerable. “I’m lucky to have you.”
Suguru giggled, the sound light and content. Everything felt perfect—Suguru was truly happy, and he regretted nothing. He wanted to spend every night of his life like this, wrapped in Toji’s warmth, and wake up beside him every morning. During his time here, he had even managed to grow a little closer to Megumi, though it might take more effort to fully adjust to the boy’s guarded nature. Still, Suguru had a feeling it would all work out in the end.
“Remember your promise, Toji,” Suguru said, lifting his head to rest on his hand as he gazed at the alpha’s face. “I married you for a reason, you know. Aside from the fact that I love you, of course.”
Toji laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “Of course, of course, my special-grade sorcerer. The queen will one day reclaim his crown.”
“You’re forgetting one more thing,” Suguru added, his lips curling into a sly smirk.
Toji licked his lips, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “Kill all the higher-ups, huh?”
“And Naoya Zenin,” Suguru added, his voice firm. As long as that bastard’s head remained untouched, Suguru knew he would never rest easy.
Toji grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Didn’t know you were this ruthless. I’ll have to be careful around you from now on.”
Suguru laughed, nodding in agreement. As long as Toji stayed by his side and loved him, Suguru believed he could reclaim the crown he deserved—and more.
I love you,” Suguru murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of Toji’s lips, right on his scar. Apparently, he had gotten it from a fight, and Suguru loved to kiss it. He kissed it again and again, shifting to lay over Toji’s chest, gently holding his face as he peppered him with more kisses, making Toji giggle.
“Love you too, Suguru,” Toji replied, his voice warm and steady.
With his right to use sorcery stripped away, Suguru spent most of his days either looking after Megumi or training in the garden, honing his physical abilities instead.
Yet, no matter how much he tried to suppress his old habits, muscle memory would often betray him. Sometimes, his hands moved on their own—summoning curses, channeling cursed energy to sharpen his senses or aim at targets. And each time, he would glance around, making sure no one was watching.
Megumi, however, remained distant.
Most children were naturally curious, full of energy and eager to explore the world around them. But Megumi was different. He was a quiet child, rarely crying, never throwing tantrums. He entertained himself without much need for Suguru’s interference.
“I’m your new mommy, Megumi-chan,” Suguru teased, cradling the baby in his lap. Megumi simply blinked up at him through thick lashes, those striking dark blue eyes gazing at him with unreadable indifference.
Then, without a word, he rolled off Suguru’s lap and crawled away.
Suguru sighed. Three months. He had been here for three months, yet Megumi still wasn’t used to him. Sure, the boy had warmed up slightly—at least he no longer recoiled from Suguru’s touch—but there was no real attachment. And honestly, Suguru didn’t feel particularly motherly towards him either. The idea that he would be raising this child for at least the next ten or so years felt... strange. Unfair, even.
As for his father, Megumi seemed to tolerate him at best. His little face would scrunch up in a permanent frown whenever Toji was around, and Toji, being Toji, only found amusement in it.
“Why does this thing always have that angry kitten look?” Toji muttered, holding Megumi in a way no child should ever be held—by the fabric of his clothes, hoisting him up midair like a stray cat. "Smile a little, will ya? You should feel honored being in the presence of your old man.”
Suguru couldn’t help but chuckle, though concern flickered in his chest. “That thing is your son, Toji-san! And put him down properly before you drop him,” he scolded, reaching out instinctively to support Megumi’s back.
The moment Suguru’s hands touched him, Megumi latched onto him like a lifeline, clinging to Suguru’s chest in a clear attempt to escape his father’s grasp.
Toji scoffed. “Tch. He definitely likes his new mommy, doesn’t he, brat?” He reached out, pinching Megumi’s chubby cheek with one hand.
Suguru caught the faint flicker of cursed energy dancing along Megumi’s tiny fingers before the boy reached for Toji’s hand, sinking his baby teeth into his father’s finger in a weak but determined attempt to bite him. Suguru stifled a laugh, pulling Megumi closer while Toji muttered a curse under his breath. A little later, the father and son shared a bath while Suguru took the time to prepare dinner.
The only person Megumi seemed to genuinely like was Tsumiki. She had been around in the beginning, helping Suguru bond with the boy, but now that she had started high school, she was busier. Occasionally, she still came by to lend a hand, but for the most part, Suguru was on his own.
Toji emerged from the bathroom with a grumpy-looking Megumi in his arms, both of their hair damp as Toji roughly attempted to dry Megumi’s head with a towel. Suguru watched the scene with quiet amusement. It was...endearing. And the omega couldn’t help but wonder…
What if one day, it was his child in Toji’s arms?
The idea of carrying the alpha’s pup stirred something warm in his chest, heat curling low in his stomach. He almost laughed at himself.
Shaking the thought away, he busied himself setting the table. They had dinner together, and afterward, Suguru tucked Megumi into bed before slipping away to join the alpha for the night.
Every night, without fail, they ended up like this.
Toji was still in his prime—strong, relentless, and insatiable. And Suguru was a young omega with raging hormones, desperate for the touch of his alpha. They fit together perfectly, balancing each other in a way that felt almost fated.
But there was one thing Toji never gave him.
“Please, alpha—mark me.” Suguru’s voice was breathless, pleading, his face pressed into the mattress as Toji’s weight bore down on him. The alpha’s cock was buried deep inside him, thick and throbbing, stretching him in a way that made his body sing.
Some nights, Toji was slow, teasing, almost gentle. But tonight was not one of those nights.
“Fuck,” Toji growled, his breath hot against Suguru’s nape. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, circling the spot where his mark should be. Suguru shuddered, waiting—hoping.
But he already knew.
He’s not going to do it.
Instead, Toji sucked at the area lightly, leaving soft kisses that burned in the worst way. Suguru whimpered, his frustration bubbling over into a low, irritated growl.
“I told you,” Toji murmured, voice deep and commanding as his hips slammed into Suguru with unforgiving force, “I’ll mark you when the time comes.”
Suguru clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound. His hands curled into the sheets, body tightening beneath Toji’s relentless thrusts.
“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be mad at me now.”
“You’re mean,” Suguru bit back, panting. “Did you mark your first wife? Or is this some kind of principle of yours?”
Toji froze. Suguru felt it—the way the alpha’s movements stopped, the air around them thickening with tension. He’d hit a nerve.
“That’s not true,” Toji murmured, his lips brushing against Suguru’s ear in a half-hearted attempt at soothing him. “I told you why. Be patient for me, baby.” He pressed a kiss to Suguru’s temple, his hands stroking over his hips possessively. “Besides, everyone already knows you’re mine.”
“It’s not enough!” Suguru snapped. His body burned with the desperate need to be claimed, to bear Toji’s mark like a badge of honor. Maybe it was just his omega instincts, screaming for recognition. Or maybe it was more than that—the tradition, the ritual, the unspoken rule that omegas were meant to be mated on their wedding night. It felt wrong to go against it.
How long was Toji planning to make him wait anyway?
Instead of answering, Toji let out a quiet chuckle, amusement lacing his tone. “You’re so cute, Suguru.”
Suguru’s irritation flared. “Don’t treat me like a kid!” He turned his head to glare at Toji over his shoulder, face flushed with frustration.
Toji only smirked, his grip tightening. “Oh yeah? And how old are you again?”
Suguru’s frown deepened. He huffed. “Too young for you, right? Then stop fucking around with me.” He reached up, trying to push Toji’s face away, but the alpha caught his wrist with ease and in an instant, Suguru found himself bent further forward, his back arching as Toji pinned him effortlessly. It wasn’t meant to hurt—just enough pressure to remind him who was in control.
Toji’s breath was hot against his ear, as he growled. “I don’t need permission to fuck my wife.”
Suguru gasped as Toji pressed his face into the mattress, his thrusts turning rougher, deeper.
“Now, be good for me, sweetheart,” Toji rasped, his hand slipping under Suguru’s stomach to hold him in place. “Let me finish.”
Suguru shuddered, completely lost in it. There was something about Toji’s strength, the way he handled him so effortlessly, that made him melt. No matter how frustrated he was, how much he wanted to fight back—he always gave in.
Because in the end, he wanted it.
“You’re so mean…” Suguru whimpered, his body trembling beneath him as he finally surrendered.
Toji groaned, his movements growing erratic, his grip on Suguru’s hips tightening until it almost hurt.
“Gonna knot you,” he gritted out, voice raw, animalistic. Suguru could feel it—the swelling, stretching him impossibly full, locking them together. His stomach tightened, heat spreading through him as Toji’s knot pulsed inside, filling him with warmth.
Damn it.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before Toji got him pregnant.
Only if he hadn’t been forced onto birth control.
It wasn’t that Toji had actually forced him. But with Megumi still just a baby, they couldn’t afford another one. Not yet. Toji wasn’t exactly a wealthy man, and another mouth to feed wasn’t something they could risk.
Suguru gasped, his body shaking as the last waves of pleasure washed over him. Toji collapsed onto him, his broad chest pressing against Suguru’s back, his mouth brushing over the bare skin of his neck.
And yet, still—no bite.
He’s so mean.
“Damn, Suguru,” Toji muttered, his lips curving into a lazy smirk. He pulled Suguru closer, possessively wrapping an arm around his waist. “You were made for this.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Suguru’s jaw. “Made for me.”
Suguru’s breath hitched. His body ached, everything burning, but there was only one thing he could focus on.
He really did love this man after all.
The first few months of their marriage had been...blissful.
Toji had spent most of his days with Suguru—always by his side, helping him, training him, raising Megumi together. It was their own little honeymoon phase, the kind everyone talked about. And while Suguru treasured those days, he wished Toji would take him out somewhere. Anywhere.
But Toji barely stayed home now.
Every time Suguru brought it up, Toji had the same excuse.
"Megumi's too small," he'd say, rubbing slow circles into Suguru’s back after sex. "We can’t just leave him behind. Maybe after he’s a little older."
Or sometimes, "It’s not safe. The Zen’in clan could still come after him."
And, more often than not, "I have work. Gotta provide for my family, yeah?"
Suguru knew Toji wasn’t entirely wrong. It was true. Megumi was still young, and as Toji’s son, he wasn’t safe from the Zen’in’s influence. And then there was the money. Toji was constantly looking for work, hopping from one job to another, insisting he needed to take on more to support them both.
After all, Suguru was no longer a sorcerer.
That truth weighed on him more than he cared to admit.
He would lay on Toji’s chest at night, listening to him talk about their future—how much he wanted Suguru to have everything he’d ever dreamed of. And yet, despite the sweet words, Suguru couldn’t shake the heaviness settling in his heart.
Because Megumi was a quiet, easy child. He rarely cried, only getting grumpy when he was hungry. Most of the time, he entertained himself, content with whatever toy was in his grasp. He didn’t need constant babysitting, and Toji was strong enough to destroy the Zenin clan, which made Suguru wonder if Toji was just making excuses. Was it really about Megumi’s safety, or was there something else?
Maybe Megumi simply didn’t like him.
Suguru could already see the child’s cursed energy developing—strong, untamed, swirling around him like an unseen storm. He had felt it the first time he stepped into this house, lingering in the air. And now, with Toji barely home, it was Suguru’s responsibility to handle it.
The alpha would return late most nights, sometimes early, sometimes hours past midnight, covered in blood and fresh injuries. And Megumi was always asleep by then, unaware of the life his father was living outside these walls.
If Suguru was lucky, Toji would take a day off—maybe once a week.
At first, Suguru had understood. They needed money, and Toji was doing everything he could to make sure they never struggled. But over time, the distance became unbearable.
It wasn’t just about the money anymore.
Suguru missed him.
Megumi needed his father.
And every time Suguru tried to bring it up, Toji would brush him off with the same tired reassurance.
“I’m doing this for us, baby. One day, you’ll have everything you ever wanted.”
But all Suguru wanted was him.
“I don’t need money, wealth, or glory, Toji-san,” Suguru murmured, carefully wrapping fresh bandages around the alpha’s injured arm. His fingers were steady, but his heart felt anything but. “I just need you by my side… I need you to give me back the name I deserve. You promised.”
He tried to ignore the lingering scent of alcohol on Toji’s skin, but it was impossible.
Toji exhaled, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he reached for Suguru, pulling him onto his lap with ease. “Oh, baby, I know.”
“Don’t,” Suguru warned, placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “You’re still injured.”
“It’s fine,” Toji muttered, his grip tightening around Suguru’s waist as he buried his face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent deeply. Instinctively, Suguru tilted his head, his body betraying him as his ear brushed against Toji’s lips.
“Toji-san…” Suguru tried to push away slightly, but Toji only pulled him closer, his warm tongue tracing along the edge of Suguru’s jaw, sending a shiver down his spine.
But they needed to talk.
Every night, Toji came home late, exhausted, covered in wounds, reeking of blood and cheap liquor. And every night, instead of speaking, instead of listening, he used Suguru—took and took until he had nothing left to give.
Suguru didn’t mind, not really. He wanted to be the one Toji turned to, the one to take in all of his stress, to let him fill him up until there was nothing left. But…
Not like this.
Not when they hadn’t spoken in days. Not when Suguru was drowning in loneliness.
Before Toji could lift his shirt, Suguru caught his wrist, stopping him.
“No.”
Toji stilled. His green eyes flickered with confusion—genuine, unguarded. He looked almost…surprised. “You don’t want me?”
And the way he said it…why did it make Suguru feel so guilty?
“I… I do,” Suguru admitted, his voice softer now. He struggled to meet Toji’s gaze, pressing his lips into a thin line. “But… Megumi.”
Toji frowned.
“He’s developing his cursed technique. Slowly, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets out of control,” Suguru continued, tightening his grip on Toji’s wrist. “And I don’t think I can handle it alone. He barely even likes me—”
“That’s not true,” Toji interrupted, cupping Suguru’s face with both hands. His touch was warm—so at odds with the violence he carried.
“Megumi’s just reserved,” he said, voice steady, sure. “I’ve seen the way he acts around you. Trust me, Suguru—he likes you a hell of a lot more than he likes me.”
Suguru stared at him, processing his words.
Maybe… maybe Toji was right. But that didn’t change the fact that Suguru felt like he was doing this alone.
“Toji, I need you here,” he said finally, his voice almost breaking. “I know you’re working hard for us, but… I can’t do this alone.”
I feel so alone without you. Without your presence.
Toji sighed. Then, without another word, he pulled Suguru into a tight embrace, his fingers threading through his hair, rubbing slow circles against the back of his head.
“I’m sorry.” Toji’s voice was quiet, almost tired. “You know I’m trying my best, right? I hate being away from you and Megumi too. We’ll figure it out together. I promise.”
Suguru wanted to believe him. He wanted to trust that Toji would be more present, that he would stay—not just physically, but truly be there. A little more effort, a little more love. That was all Suguru was asking for.
And so, he chose to believe.
That night, despite his initial refusal, despite the ache of loneliness still settling in his chest, Suguru let Toji have him. He let the alpha press him down, take him apart, touch him like he always did—hoping, just hoping, that when morning came, Toji would still be there. That he would wake up next to him, just like he always had in the beginning.
“I love you, Toji,” Suguru whispered, his hands cupping Toji’s face, his violet eyes filled with raw emotion.
He always told him. Every night. Every chance he got.
Toji used to say it back—less often, maybe, but still, he had said it.
Now…
Toji only stared at him for a moment before offering a small, easy smile.
He didn’t say it back.
Maybe Suguru was just overthinking it.
Day by day, Suguru felt himself slipping further away from the sorcerer he once was.
At seventeen, he had become a Grade 1 sorcerer—one of the best of his generation. His parents had been so proud, hopeful for his future. And even if Gojo Satoru had always been there, taking the title of the strongest, Suguru had never minded. He had been content growing at his own pace, with his own hard work.
But now…everything has changed.
Drastically.
In the span of just a year, he had gone from a rising star in the Jujutsu world to a man stripped of everything that made him who he was.
Apparently, the Gojo Clan had even placed a bounty on his head at some point.
Suguru had no clue about this—not until Toji told him. And even then, it felt surreal. No one had come for him, no assassins lurking in the shadows, no threats at his doorstep.
Because Toji had taken care of it…?
“I killed them before they could try,” he had said casually, as if it were nothing. And while Suguru did believe him, there was something unsettling about it all. It was strange that he was still alive.
The Gojo Clan, despite nearly being wiped out, had begun rebuilding itself over the past few months. Almost half of their members had been slaughtered. And as for Gojo Satoru? He had completely disappeared—vanished without a trace. But Suguru knew he wasn’t far. The ecosystem had finally stabilized after all that chaos, which meant Satoru was likely calm and steady now. He was relieved the kid had finally moved on from him. There had been times when he’d feared looking up to find the sliding door open, two blue glowing eyes staring at him. He’d even had nightmares about it. Not that he had much time to think about the young alpha anyway—he had his own home to take care of now.
Suguru only heard whispers, scattered pieces of information passed through the wind and, occasionally, through Toji. But he had no real connection to the Jujutsu world anymore. And Toji… well, Toji wasn’t around enough to talk about it, anyway.
But then, the morning after their conversation, something changed.
Toji woke up next to him.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Suguru didn’t wake up to an empty bed.
And for that single day, things almost felt normal.
Toji took the day off, spending time with Megumi—trying to understand his cursed technique, watching as his abilities slowly began to manifest. Suguru, finally, got some time to train again. It had been a good day.
Until he asked Toji a simple question.
“How long until I can be Special Grade?”
“We’re not picking a fight with the higher-ups until Megumi is older,” he said. “Once he’s stronger, he can help us take them on.”
Suguru had never felt such crushing disappointment in his life.
He didn’t say a word after that. Even when Toji tried to talk to him, he ignored him. He still had to cook, still had to clean, but beyond that he refused to acknowledge him.
Toji clung to his back, holding Megumi in his arms, murmuring soft apologies. “C’mon, baby. Try to understand.”
Suguru didn’t respond. He just scrubbed the dishes harder, letting the loud clatter of plates echo through the kitchen.
Because this—this was exactly what he had given everything up for.
He had left everything behind, abandoned his life, his family, and married Toji because he thought he would get his name back.
His identity. His place in the world.
And now, Toji was telling him to wait ?
To be patient until Megumi grows up?
What was he supposed to do until then? Be a housewife, stuck in this ugly fucking house?
His hands clenched around the dish he was holding, jaw tight as frustration burned inside him.
This wasn’t what he wanted.
This wasn’t what he had sacrificed everything for.
He trusted the alpha.
Toji lounged on the veranda with Megumi, lazily stretching his legs while Suguru busied himself outside, hanging clothes to dry. He needed to move—to do something—just to burn off the frustration still simmering inside him.
But as he placed another piece of clothing onto the rod, his entire body tensed. A sudden pressure crashed over him, invisible yet suffocating, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His chest clenched as his breathing quickened, eyes flicking up to the sky.
Nothing.
Suguru swallowed hard.
It wasn’t the first time he had felt this—this presence, this creeping, heavy sensation crawling over his skin, wrapping around his throat like unseen hands.
It had happened before.
A lot of times.
In this house.
He had brushed it off every other time, but now it felt too real to ignore.
“What’s wrong?” Toji’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Suguru exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he grabbed the empty laundry bucket and headed inside. Toji followed him all the way to the kitchen, trailing behind like a shadow. Megumi had already drifted off into a nap, leaving the two of them alone.
“You still mad at me?” Toji asked, stepping closer, reaching out.
Suguru nudged him away without a word.
Toji clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that.”
He continued annoying him, murmuring apologies, calling him baby, love, cheesecake , whatever nickname he could think of, desperate to get a reaction.
“You should really go take a bath,” Suguru muttered, shoving him off. “You smell horrible.”
Toji grinned. “How about we bathe together?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—leave me alone, old man!”
Megumi’s wailing pierced through the walls.
Suguru instantly regretted raising his voice, pressing a hand to his temple.
Toji let out a long sigh. “I got it,” he muttered, turning away to deal with his son.
Suguru sighed, deciding to take that bath after all.
But as he moved toward the washroom, something shifted.
A sound. A movement.
Someone—or something—was in the other room.
His body went rigid, instincts flaring as he followed the presence to the bedroom he shared with Toji. Every nerve in his body screamed, his cursed energy pooling into his palm as he slid the door open in one swift motion—
Nothing.
Suguru’s eyes flicked around the room, scanning every corner.
His gaze settled on the closet.
A cold weight settled in his stomach.
He knew something was off.
His fingers twitched as he gathered cursed energy, every fiber of his being screaming at him to prepare. He swallowed hard, sliding the closet door open in one sharp movement, ready to strike—
Empty.
His breathing was heavy, uneven. Was he… imagining things?
“Suguru.” Toji’s voice pulled him back. He turned to see the alpha standing in the doorway, Megumi nestled in his arms, sniffling.
“He’s hungry. Will you make something for him?”
Suguru steadied himself, casting one last glance around the room before exhaling.
“Yeah,” he said simply.
Toji studied him for a moment, frowning slightly. “What’s wrong? You look tense.”
Suguru hesitated. Toji had sharp instincts—great instincts. If he hadn’t sensed anything, then maybe…maybe it really was just his imagination.
“No,” he said finally, shaking the thought away. “I’ll go make dinner.”
“You hear that, brat?” Toji grumbled, shifting Megumi in his arms. “Now stop crying and man up already.”
Megumi responded by screwing up his face in irritation and clawing at Toji’s cheek. Toji yelled, pulling the child away from his face, but Megumi only gripped him harder.
Suguru just stood there, watching the chaos unfold, and wondered—not for the first time—if Toji had married him just to have a mother for Megumi.
Suguru sighed, heading straight to the kitchen, ignoring them.
Toji had stopped training with him altogether.
And Suguru…Suguru had completely lost himself.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he had summoned a curse, the last time he had felt his cursed energy thrumming beneath his skin. He didn’t know what lay beyond the walls of the house anymore—beyond the dull, lifeless garden where no flowers bloomed, no birds sang.
Every day bled into the next, an endless cycle of monotony.
Housework. Cooking. Taking care of Megumi.
Over and over and over again.
And lately, it had only gotten worse.
Megumi had finally summoned his first divine dogs—his inherited shikigami. He was a shinigami user, something incredibly rare. Toji was proud. The alpha has always been open about his hatred towards the Zenin clan. Suguru could still hear his voice in his head, full of pride, full of something that Suguru himself could no longer feel.
Suguru just didn’t care.
He didn’t care about Megumi, about his growing power, about how amazing his technique could be. None of it mattered to him.
Toji had told him to help Megumi adapt to it because Suguru was a curse manipulation user and so, he should know how to guide him. But Suguru had only nodded silently, wondering what exactly he even was anymore.
The divine dogs were a nuisance.
They hated him.
Megumi still couldn’t control them properly, and while he treated them like harmless playmates, they turned into snarling beasts whenever Suguru so much as stepped near. They growled, bared their teeth, barked like he was an intruder in his own home.
It was frustrating.
Annoying.
He had tried telling Megumi to control them, but it never worked. If anything, it only made the dogs more aggressive, more protective of Megumi—as if Suguru was some kind of threat.
As if he was something lesser.
As if he wasn’t a former Grade 1 sorcerer, once feared for his immense power, once known for eliminating even special grade curses.
As if that person had never even existed.
In the shower, Suguru spent more and more time just thinking.
What was he now?
What had he become?
Something inside him felt hollow. A gaping emptiness that stretched wider with each passing day. He didn’t know what was causing it. Or maybe he did know. He just didn’t know how to accept it.
At first, Toji would come home late, gone for most of the day, but at least he came back. At least he would take a day off here and there to spend with his family.
Now, he was gone for days at a time—sometimes two, sometimes three.
Suguru was tired.
Tired of waiting. Tired of begging. Tired of asking for more, for anything, for him.
But whenever Toji was home, they had sex.
Suguru never said no.
Because in those fleeting moments, it was the only time Toji held him, the only time he felt wanted, the only time he could pretend—to himself, to his aching heart—that he was loved.
Even if by morning, the bed was always empty.
And the few times they did talk, it was always the same.
Megumi.
Has he improved? Can he summon more shikigami? Is he eating enough? He needs to grow stronger to fight the Zen’in clan.
Megumi this. Megumi that.
Megumi, Megumi, Megumi.
Fuck.
It was all he ever heard.
Never once did Toji ask how Suguru was doing.
Not once.
Sometimes, Suguru couldn’t help but resent Megumi. He knew it was wrong—petty even—but the thought still crept in, unshakable. If only Megumi wasn’t around, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Toji would have given him more attention, cared for him, loved him better. It hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, Suguru had adored Megumi. He never felt a motherly connection to him, but he cared—genuinely. He wanted to raise him well, to bond with him, to treat him like his own. Maybe even give him a sibling one day.
But now… all he wished for was Megumi to disappear.
“You still won’t mark me,” Suguru said one night, his voice small, empty.
Toji had just come home, already stripping off his clothes, his hands reaching for Suguru’s shirt, when he stopped.
“Darling, I told you to wait a little longer.” His voice was gentle, too soft, like he was soothing a child.
Suguru hated it.
“How much fucking longer?” he snapped, voice rising, face twisting with frustration—no, with hurt . “It’s been over a year.”
Toji blinked, clearly caught off guard. Suguru has never raised his voice at Toji before.
“Suguru—”
“Are you embarrassed of me?”
Toji’s expression shifted instantly, his body tensing as he reached out but Suguru slapped his hand away, the sharp smack echoing through the room.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
A dangerous silence followed. Suguru barely had a second to process what he had done before the air changed. Alphas didn’t like this. Omegas weren’t supposed to act this way. It was nature, ingrained into them—a weaker animal challenging a stronger one, begging to be molded, to be put in its place.
The air grew thick with Toji’s pheromones, burning slightly, warning him. His eyes darkened, something flickering in them, something primal, something dangerous.
“Watch your mouth, Suguru.” His voice was low, a quiet growl vibrating deep in his chest. “Don’t talk to your alpha like that.”
Suguru shivered, instincts overriding his anger, a shiver running down his spine. His breath hitched, his instincts screaming at him to submit. A small whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it.
“I’m sorry,” he forced out, his voice barely above a whisper.
Toji quickly realised what he was doing. “Shit.”
The air shifted again, the burn fading.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to scare you, love,” Toji muttered, rubbing his face. “It just… happened. I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.”
He shifted on his back, putting distance between them, his voice softer now. Suguru didn’t answer. His head was bowed, fingers digging into his own shoulder as he tried to steady himself.
It was stupid.
So fucking stupid.
Because after all this time, after everything—he still wanted Toji to hold him.
“I’m just worried,” Toji said, his voice quieter now. “I can’t be home all the time because of work. If I mark you now, it might affect you negatively.” His gaze softened as he exhaled. “I’m almost there, baby. A better job, a better house—for us. Fighting for your name. I want to give you everything. I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
His hand brushed against Suguru’s cheek, hesitating, almost as if asking for permission.
“I care about you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
You’re already hurting me.
Suguru wanted to say it. The words were right there, clinging to his throat. But in the end, he swallowed them down, like he always did.
Toji’s touch lingered, warm against his skin. Suguru let out a slow breath, his fingers lifting to press Toji’s palm against his cheek. It felt nice. Comforting.
“I love you, Suguru,” Toji murmured.
Suguru’s eyes widened.
How long had it been since he had last heard those words?
Something bloomed in his chest, something fragile and desperate, something that made him weak. He should be standing his ground, should be angry, should be holding onto his hurt. But...
Instead, he leaned in, burying his face against Toji’s neck, inhaling his scent, wrapping his arms around him.
So weak.
But just as quickly as warmth settled in his chest, a shiver ran down his spine.
Something felt wrong. His body tensed as he pulled back, his eyes scanning the room.
“What’s wrong?” Toji asked.
Suguru hesitated. “…Do you not feel that?”
Toji tilted his head. “Feel what?”
Suguru opened his mouth, but no words came. Maybe…maybe it was just the wind.
“…Nothing,” he finally murmured. Shaking the thought away, he forced his voice to steady. “Megumi’s abilities are growing rapidly, but he’s having trouble controlling his divine dogs. It would be good if you could help him. I did what I could, but there’s only so much I can do.”
Toji hummed, nodding. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry, you’re amazing.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Suguru’s lips, soft and fleeting.
Suguru hesitated.
“…Can we not tonight?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really tired.”
There was a beat of silence and for a moment, Suguru was almost scared of how Toji would react.
But the alpha only smiled, nodding as he placed another soft kiss against his cheek. “We should sleep then.”
Suguru swallowed. That’s it?
He watched as Toji simply pulled his shirt back on, laying down into the bed without another word. No argument, no irritation, no resistance.
They lay side by side, Toji switching off the light. But Suguru couldn’t shake the unease crawling up his spine. Is he upset? Unhappy?
The silence pressed against his skin, heavy and suffocating.
After a moment, he shifted, hesitantly leaning in, wrapping an arm around Toji’s waist. He pressed close, voice barely a whisper.
“Toji-san…”
“Hm?”
“…Are you angry?”
Toji let out a soft exhale. “Of course not,” he murmured, his arm tightening around Suguru’s waist, pulling him in. “Why would I be angry, Suguru? Don’t overthink this.”
Suguru bit his lip. “We can do it if you want to—”
“Suguru.” The warning in Toji’s voice was quiet, firm. Suguru immediately shut up.
“…Okay,” he whispered.
He closed his eyes, but that uneasy feeling still lingered—settling into his chest, heavy and suffocating. Why does it feel like something’s wrong?
Suguru ignored it, pressing his face against Toji’s chest, forcing his body to relax.
Eventually, sleep pulled him under. But that feeling never really left.
Suguru woke up to a searing pain deep in his stomach, right above his womb. A sharp, unbearable ache that left his body trembling and his skin feverish. His throat was dry, nausea rolling over him in waves, and worse—he could already feel the wetness between his thighs, sticky and hot.
Shit.
His heat was close.
He pressed a shaking hand against his lower abdomen, trying to steady his breathing. His entire body was burning.
“Toji…” he rasped, voice trembling.
But the other side of the futon was cold.
Suguru’s chest clenched. Did he leave already?
A sharp pain tore through his stomach again, and he let out a strangled groan, curling in on himself. He felt sick, dizzy, overwhelmed—his instincts screaming for his alpha. He needed him. He wanted Toji to hold him, soothe him, and take care of him just like he had promised. That was how it was supposed to be.
The sliding door opened.
Suguru’s breath hitched, his glazed-over eyes widening in relief when he saw him.
Toji stood at the entrance, half-naked, a towel draped over his shoulders, drying his damp hair.
“Suguru?” Toji called, worried. But the moment he inhaled, his expression changed. His face twisted, jaw clenching as he turned away slightly, raising a hand over his nose. “Fuck, you smell—”
Suguru whimpered, his body reacting immediately to Toji’s presence, slick pooling between his thighs. His vision blurred slightly, heat clouding his thoughts as his omega instincts screamed for relief.
He reached out, voice weak and desperate. “Alpha… it hurts.”
He barely managed the words before his body betrayed him, his limbs giving out, his mind sinking into the overwhelming need consuming him. He waited, waited for Toji to hold him in his arms and love him all day long. Until it didn’t hurt anymore.
But instead of coming closer, instead of coming into bed and holding him, soothing him, Toji stepped back.
Suguru’s heart sank.
“You’re not taking suppressants?” Toji’s voice was sharp, almost scolding. “Fuck, Suguru, you should be more careful.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Wait here.”
The door slid shut.
Suguru blinked, his breath hitching as something heavy settled in his chest.
What?
He whimpered, curling in on himself, feeling utterly rejected.
Toji left.
Why?
His body ached, his mind was spinning, and all he could think was—why isn’t he helping me? He is my alpha!
Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, his body pulsing with discomfort, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. The pain was unbearable, his heart pounding as he waited.
Finally, the door slid open again. Toji walked in carrying a bag of medicine and a bottle of water.
And he was wearing a fucking mask.
Suguru felt like he had been slapped.
His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening, something breaking inside him.
“You—” His voice wavered, and he bit down hard on his lip, blinking back the sting in his eyes. He wanted to scream, to cry , to beg, to curse, to anything —but all that came out was a pitiful whimper, his body trembling with rejection.
Toji sighed, kneeling beside him, placing the bag of suppressants within reach.
“Suguru, listen,” he started, his voice too calm. “Take the suppressants. I know you want me to help you, but you have to understand—I can’t right now.”
Suguru pressed his lips into a thin line.
Can’t?
The word hit him harder than he expected.
“I have to leave soon,” Toji continued, rubbing his temple. “I can’t be here for you all the time. As much as I’d love to stay, we also have Megumi to think about—”
Suguru snapped.
“Hire a fucking maid then!” His voice cracked, desperate and raw. “Or a worker, a sitter—I don’t care! I need you! This is my first heat in over two years— don’t do this to me! ”
His voice shook, his body trembling, but he meant it.
All Toji ever talked about was Megumi. Megumi’s future. Megumi’s safety.
It was always about Megumi.
Never about Suguru.
Never him.
Toji sighed like he was dealing with a fucking child. “Suguru, we can’t afford a maid.”
Bullshit.
“I’m saving money for Megumi’s future,” he continued. “In case he needs—”
Suguru saw red. Before Toji could finish, Suguru snatched the suppressants, tearing the bottle open and dry-swallowing three pills before Toji could stop him.
“Suguru, stop —that’s too much—”
“Get out. ” Suguru shouted, his eyes burning with something between rage and devastation.
Suguru was done.
Done waiting. Done being patient. Done begging.
He felt sick, his heat still simmering under his skin, but worse than that was the unbearable ache in his chest, the overwhelming, suffocating loneliness.
Toji didn’t move at first, just watched him.
Then, finally, he sighed, standing up.
“Tsumiki’s coming over later,” he muttered, adjusting his mask. “I told her to check on you.”
Suguru huffed, glaring at the wall, refusing to look at him.
Toji exhaled heavily. “Don’t get angry, baby. This is for your own good. You’re just being overly emotional because of your heat—”
Suguru’s grip on the blanket tightened so hard he thought the fabric might tear.
His teeth clenched, his jaw aching with the force of holding back what he really wanted to say.
He wanted to kill him.
Yeah. Maybe it was his heat or whatever, but he swore —he was losing his fucking mind.
Toji stood there, waiting for a response, but Suguru said nothing.
Because if he opened his mouth now, he might actually throw something at Toji’s fucking head.
And then, without another word, Toji left.
The door slid shut.
Suguru exhaled loudly. His body was trembling, heat still lingering under his skin, but more than that—his anger.
His hurt.
His emptiness.
The suppressants started kicking in, his heat dulling, his body cooling, sweat sticking to his skin.
But none of it mattered.
Because for the first time in his life, Suguru wished he had never met Toji Fushiguro.
Suguru spent most of the day lying around, drifting in and out of sleep. The suppressants had done their job—his heat had subsided completely—but they had left him feeling wrecked. His body was sluggish, his mind clouded, and every attempt to move sent waves of dizziness crashing over him.
When he finally forced his eyes open, the room spun.
His vision blurred at the edges as he rubbed his temples, trying to steady himself. The dim, golden glow seeping through the window told him the sun was already setting.
He had slept the entire day.
With a heavy sigh, Suguru dragged himself out of bed, his legs unsteady beneath him as he made his way to the other room. The faint sound of laughter reached his ears and when he stepped inside, he found Tsumiki sitting on the floor, playing with Megumi. The child clung to her, delighted by her presence, small hands reaching for her as she guided him through a simple game.
She looked up when she noticed him. “Geto-san! You’re finally awake.”
Her smile was warm, kind. So different from the cold emptiness he had grown used to in this house.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
Suguru swallowed, his throat dry. “Better”
“Good,” she said with a small nod, standing up and dusting herself off. “I made some food for you. Eat before it gets cold, alright?”
Suguru blinked, startled. “You…made food?”
Tsumiki laughed. “Of course. I figured you wouldn’t be in any state to cook today.”
There was something about her casual care, her effortless kindness, that made Suguru’s chest tighten. She was just a kid herself and yet she had stepped in so easily, filling the gaps in their broken household without a second thought.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“No problem.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I need to head out now. I promised my friends I’d meet them.”
Suguru’s eyes widened slightly in realisation. Friends.
He nodded absently, watching as she left, her presence slipping away as if she had never been there at all.
And just like that, the silence settled in again.
Suguru turned his gaze to Megumi, who was still playing, completely unaware of the hollow ache blooming in Suguru’s chest.
It hit him all at once.
He was alone.
Truly, completely alone.
He had no one.
No one to talk to, no one to laugh with, no one to simply exist besides Toji.
His mind drifted back to his high school days—to Shoko, to Haibara. They had been his closest friends. The ones who had always been there, through laughter and pain. And yet, when he got married, he hadn’t even invited them.
It had been ages since he last spoke to them.
What would they say if they saw him now?
The thought unsettled him. Because suddenly, he wasn’t just missing them—he was missing himself.
Suguru had always been someone who lived. He used to spend his days training, pushing himself to be stronger. His nights were filled with reckless fun—late-night ramen runs, arcade games, movie marathons, simple joys that had once felt so natural, so effortless.
Now he couldn’t even remember the last time he went out for a movie. Or shopping. Or played a sport.
When was the last time he had even stepped outside for something other than grocery shopping or running errands for this house ?
It crept over him slowly—this crushing realization that he was missing something. Something significant. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know if he’d ever get it back.
Megumi clung to Suguru’s leg, small hands gripping tightly as he mumbled something incoherent, his big blue eyes staring up expectantly.
Suguru blinked. Weird. Megumi wasn’t the clingy type. Still, he sighed and picked him up, balancing the child against his hip.
“Hungry?” he guessed, rubbing small circles on Megumi’s back as he made his way to the kitchen.
What he didn’t expect to find was a basket.
A very expensive looking basket.
Suguru narrowed his eyes. It sat on the counter, filled to the brim with dark chocolates—the good kind, the kind that melted perfectly in your mouth, the kind that cost more than he could justify spending in his lifetime.
And next to it was tea. A variety of teas. His favorites.
Suguru’s jaw tightened. What the fuck?
His first thought was Tsumiki, but she was just a kid. No way she had the money for this.
His second thought was Toji.
…And then he laughed. Out loud.
Yeah. Right.
Suguru picked up a chocolate, turning it over in his fingers. It was high-end. The kind you’d find in fancy department stores, the kind only rich sorcerers could afford.
His stomach turned.
His entire body went cold.
There was no fucking way Toji had done this. Not in a million years.
Then who?
A shiver ran down his spine as his fingers clenched around the chocolate. He quickly shoved it back into the basket, skin crawling. His mouth was dry, his breath uneven.
This house is haunted.
That was the only explanation.
Suguru hastily grabbed the entire basket with his free hand, Megumi still balanced in his other arm, and stormed outside.
Without hesitation, he threw the basket straight into the garbage.
Megumi blinked, tilting his head.
“Do you know something?” Suguru asked dumbly, staring at the kid.
Megumi just stared back. Then tilted his head further, as if trying to understand his insanity.
Suguru exhaled sharply, scanning the area—the roads, the sky, the alleyways nearby.
Nothing.
No one.
But the unease wouldn’t leave him. His heart pounded in his chest, thoughts spiraling. Does he have a stalker? Is someone watching him? He shook his head. He needed to tell Toji.
But Toji never comes home that night.
And so, Suguru doesn’t sleep.
Not really. He spends the entire night lying next to Megumi, one eye open, body tense, mind running through a hundred possibilities.
By the time morning came, he felt like shit.
So when Toji finally walked through the door—quiet, hoping Suguru would be asleep—Suguru launched himself out of bed, dark circles heavy under his eyes, practically running up to him.
“You’re here,” he exclaimed, voice frantic. “Fuck, where have you been?! Do you have any idea —”
“Woah, woah, woah—Suguru, calm down.” Toji blinked, hands raised slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Suguru took a sharp breath, trying and failing to calm himself. “Did you bring those chocolates and tea for me?”
Toji tilted his head. “Huh?”
Suguru’s stomach dropped.
I fucking knew it.
“It must be the Zenin Clan,” he rushed out, pacing now. “Or Gojo. They’re probably trying to poison me or lure me into a trap —but how did they even get in—”
“Suguru.” Toji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was me. I put them there.”
Suguru stopped dead and stared at the alpha like he was some ghost.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You bought all that chocolate and tea? For me?”
“Yeah…” Toji shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “All of that.”
Suguru squinted. He doesn’t believe it. Not for a fucking second.
“…What did you do with them?” Toji asked after a pause.
Suguru crossed his arms. “I threw them away.”
Toji’s mouth falls open. “What?!”
Suguru glared. “You really wanted me to believe you’d spend that much money on me?”
Toji clutched his chest dramatically. “Damn, that hurts.”
“Oh, shut up. You left me during my heat. You barely give a fuck about me—”
“Suguru.” Toji exhaled, stepping forward, placing firm hands on Suguru’s shoulders. “You need to sleep. You look sick.”
“I—”
Before Suguru can protest, Toji picks him up in bridal style.
Suguru gasped. “Toji—what the—put me down —”
“Nope.” Toji carried him straight to their room, ignoring Suguru’s half-hearted struggling, and gently set him down on the futon. Suguru huffed, still wired, still tense, still trying to process everything.
Toji sighed, sitting beside him. “Just sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Suguru muttered after a moment, shifting under the blankets. “For throwing them away. I was just so—”
“Don’t.” Toji cut him off, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Just close your eyes.”
A beat of silence. Suguru does as told, letting his eyes flutter shut, his mind still buzzing.
And then, suddenly—
His eyes snap wide open, comically slow, like a corpse awakening.
Toji shivers.
“…It was really you?” Suguru asked again, voice eerily serious.
Toji stared, gulping nervously. “Yes, love, it was me.”
“You actually spent that much money on me?”
Toji nodded, trying not to be too offended.
Suguru’s voice lowered slightly, almost hesitant. “…You really love me?”
Toji swallowed, nodding again, more deliberate this time. “I do.”
Suguru lets out a slow breath. His eyes flutter closed again. This time, for real as he fell asleep.
Toji exhaled, leaning back against the futon, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling. “That was close.”