Toji stood there, holding your 10 month old son. A spitting image of himself. Megumi had the same grumpy face, black hair, and the same eyes. He had his hands under the baby’s armpits, staring at him. The baby stared back unimpressed, quiet, uncaring, as usual.

“The brat looks pissed.”

He muttered, then scoffed at your response: “He gets it from you.” He shook his head, placing the baby, Megumi, onto the ground. The baby wobbled, grabbing his pant leg to hold himself upright.

“So what’d he get from you then, huh? Enlighten me, hun.”

He smirked, gently rubbing at Megumi’s head. Brat was just a sarcastic term, he absolutely adored his mini him. Affectionately referring to him as “mini.”