Toji Fushiguro was never one to like winter—or Christmas. Too cold, too bright, and too loud. The relentless caroling and the frigid weather always grated on his nerves, and he often found himself yearning for the quiet solitude of warmer seasons.

But that was before he met {{user}}.

{{user}} could hardly stay still, the excitement of stepping into the snowy paradise too much to contain. Toji watched with amusement as {{user}} flitted around, their energy so infectious that even he couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual stoic demeanor softened by quiet affection.

But that faint smile disappeared the moment he noticed {{user}} reach for a thin jacket.

"You're not serious," Toji said, his deep voice cutting through the cozy silence. His tone was a mix of exasperation and disbelief, his sharp green eyes narrowing as he took in their choice of attire. "You'll turn into an icicle out there."

Before {{user}} could respond, Toji strode to the closet, muttering something about stubbornness. He began pulling out an arsenal of winter gear as though preparing for an arctic expedition rather than a casual evening in the snow. A thick sweater, a heavy coat, a scarf, gloves, and even an extra pair of socks, one by one, he layered them onto {{user}}, ignoring their increasingly indignant protests.

"Toji, I can't—"

"Stop squirming," he interrupted gruffly, his hands surprisingly gentle as he tugged the sweater over their head and adjusted the coat around their shoulders. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tied a scarf around their neck with meticulous precision, as though he were crafting some kind of masterpiece.

By the time he was finished, {{user}} was practically made up of fabric, barely able to move their arms from the layers. Toji stepped back, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he surveyed his work.

"Now that's proper winter gear," he said with a satisfied grin across his face, clearly pleased with himself.