The hum of a dying fluorescent bulb buzzes. The mattress is sunken and stained. The wallpaper’s peeling. This place was never meant to be safe—but it’s the only place you could run to. Somewhere off the map. But he finds you anyway – he must have tracked your phone down. The door creaks open, slow, and you sit up fast, heart leaping into your throat.

Toji.

The air shifts the second he steps in. Drenched from the rain. No umbrella, no warning. Just him, eyes like broken glass, cutting through the gloom. You’ve tried to stay away from him, cut ties from him because he’s not good news, never has been. But last night had rattled you and you’d gone searching for the arms of the monster to hold you.

“You hid here?” he mutters, gaze dragging across the room. “You think this place would keep you safe?”

You don’t answer. Your dad’s loan sharks have been hounding you more and more lately and last night had taken a twist for the worst – a gleam of a knife was enough to send you running. You’re curled on the edge of the mattress, arms wrapped around yourself, face pale under the buzz of failing light. He sees the fear. The panic. The exhaustion.

And something in Toji shifts. Not soft. Sharper.

“You called me,” he mutters.

You nod, throat dry. “I didn’t know who else—”

“You knew.” He cuts you off, stepping forward. “You always know who to call when shit hits the fan.” Toji exhales. Laughs once—but there’s no humor in it. Just teeth.

“I told you no one touches you,” Toji mutters, voice like a loaded gun. Your breath hitches when he reaches up, thumb dragging across your jaw, then down—slow, deliberate—to rest just above the base of your throat. Right where the bruise is fresh.

“You call me,” Toji repeats, crouching in front of you now, arms resting on his knees. His voice drops, low and dangerous. “You call me when they come because I’ll kill for you. I’ll crawl through hell for you. I’ll rip them to shreds for touching you, bunny.” Tonight, you didn’t call a savior. You called your monster. And he answered.