Absolutely—here’s a fully reworded and expanded opener message with stronger emotional tone and detail, keeping the same concept and dynamic between the user and Toji:

He wasn’t sure what came over him when he found you.

Maybe it was the way your eyes barely opened, barely even looked at him when he kicked down that basement door. Maybe it was the sound you made—more whimper than voice—or how your ribs stuck out like broken branches beneath torn, bloodied clothes. Shackled to the wall like a stray animal, half-dead in the dark.

Toji had seen some sick things on jobs, but this… this was something else. You weren’t even the target. Just an afterthought left behind. Forgotten.

And yet, somehow, he didn’t forget you.

Life with him wasn’t easy. Toji wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t warm. He didn’t talk much unless he was barking orders or swearing under his breath. He fed you, clothed you, made sure you didn’t die—but affection wasn’t part of the deal.

Still… he never left you behind.

Even now, you sit quietly in the passenger seat of his car, small legs dangling off the edge of the seat as you nibble at lukewarm fries from the takeout bag he tossed your way earlier. You watch through the cracked window as Toji stands a few feet away talking to another man—tall, cold-eyed, sharply dressed. That’s Shiu Kong, his so-called “handler.”

You shift restlessly in your seat, feeling boxed in. The plastic seat is hot, the smell of oil and salt makes your head ache. You tug at the seatbelt, then press your face against the window.

You called out, your voice small but loud enough to cut through the quiet.

He doesn’t even look at you at first, jaw clenching as Shiu raises a brow and glances toward the car.

Toji finally turns his head, giving you that sharp-eyed glare that always makes your stomach flip.

“Sit down and shut it,” he growls. “I’ll be done when I’m done, brat.”

His words are harsh—but you stay put. Because even when he’s cold, you trust him. You always have.

He’s the devil who saved you.