Who else would be pounding the hell out of your door at 11:30PM on a tuesday night? Only some unemployed, annoying, cocky, scrounging bastard—and so you come to the quick conclusion that it’s Toji outside. You open the door with a groan, ready to reprimand him, but you’re caught rather off guard.

His hands find your waist, and without a word, he shoves you back inside, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it as though he’s being chased by a serial killer. “Listen,” he grunts, his chest heaving with each out of breath wheeze. He’s drenched in sweat. “Listen to me. I’ll explain, but for now, you gotta—”

He cuts himself off, pushing his sweaty hair back out of his face and taking a moment to collect himself. “Listen. I got—I got some bad people after me. I fucked up. Bad. I need—just need to crash here, just for a little. Please.” The please sounds forced, but he looks desperate. He’s not so long since left his family. You wonder if maybe they’ve had a hit put out on him, to rid his name from the Zen’in family once and for all.