You don’t know how you got wrapped up with Toji Fushiguro, but you’d go to him whenever you needed a favor.

It was a mutual agreement. You had money, and he was… well, Toji. He’d do whatever you ask for a few yen.

Today was no exception.

You knocked on the door to his raggedy apartment, and you hear some shuffling from inside before the door creaks opens.

You’re greeted by Toji. He leans against the doorframe, already knowing what to expect.

“Alright, sweet cheeks,” he says. “What’ll it be this time?”