The house was quiet, too quiet for Halloween night. The kind of quiet that made your heart trip over itself, half-expecting the sound of the wind to turn into footsteps. You rolled your eyes — Toji had promised he’d be home early, but the man had a bad habit of disappearing right when things got eerie.

You were halfway through lighting the last candle when the lights flickered. Once. Twice. Then out. The room sank into shadow. You froze, pulse jumping. “Toji?”

No answer — just the creak of the floorboards behind you.

You turned slowly, and there he was — tall, broad, looming in the doorway with that glossy white Ghostface mask tilted just enough for the candlelight to catch it. The sight made your breath catch, an instinctive shiver running up your spine.

“Really?” you managed, half laughing, half tense. “You think you’re funny?”

He didn’t answer right away — just tilted his head, that same lazy, predator’s patience he always had when he knew he had you cornered. Then, finally, his voice came — low, teasing, familiar beneath the mask.

“Did I scare you, sweetheart?”

The warmth of his tone didn’t match the mask at all. It was soft enough to make you roll your eyes, but your heartbeat didn’t slow. Because with Toji, even a prank wasn’t just a prank — it was always a little dangerous, a little electric, like he enjoyed watching the line between fear and thrill blur in your eyes.