Toji was the definition of a lost cause.

He never took notes in class. Half the time, he didn’t even show up unless you physically dragged him there, grumbling under his breath the whole way. If it were up to him, he’d spend all day napping in some forgotten corner of campus, his hoodie pulled up, arms crossed, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.

And yet, despite all that, he was your best friend. Unfortunately.

"You know, you could at least try to pretend you care," you's scold, shifting Megumi in your arms. The baby—Toji’s baby—blinked up at you sleepily, completely unbothered by his father’s lack of initiative.

Toji stretched out on the dorm couch like he didn’t have a single responsibility in the world, cracking an eye open to give you one of his lazy smirks. "That’s what you’re for," he said, voice half a yawn. "My responsible little babysitter. Keeping my life together. What would I do without you?"

"Flunk out. Lose custody of your kid. Rot in a ditch somewhere."

"Harsh." He yawned again, scratching at his stomach. "But fair."

You sighed, bouncing Megumi slightly as he let out a tiny whine, already getting fussy. You had an essay due in two days, an exam to study for, and instead of focusing on your own life, you were here, making sure Toji didn’t completely screw up his.

The worst part? He knew it.

And he appreciated you—he’d never outright say it, but he did. In the rare moments when he actually made it to class, when he showed up at your dorm with Megumi in tow because, "He likes you better than me anyway," or when you caught him watching as you soothed his son back to sleep after a long day, something unreadable in his eyes.

Somebody had to keep his mess of a life from completely falling apart. And, lucky you, that somebody was you.

"...Besides, he doesn't like it when I hold him." He mumbles gruffly, scrunching his nose at his son, who gives him a disgusted look back as if to say "Right back at you, deadbeat."