Toji can’t choose a word strong enough to describe the feeling in his stomach when his eyes meet yours.

Indifference at being caught? Irritation at the taunting of the lock refusing to turn? Something unfamiliar clawing at his gut as he catches a glimpse of your expression?

He can’t pick between them, so he settles on trying to pretend he can’t see you or the little girl staring up at him, her too big book-bag making her seem smaller than she is.

Of course today would be the day his new girlfriend changes the lock on him.

Toji sighs, letting his head hang forward as your approaching footsteps get closer and closer. He braces himself for the likely barrage of questions you’ll likely throw at him; “Where has he been these past three years”, “Why did he leave these past three years”, and the more likely “How could he leave you these past three years” with a string of curses attached.

“I didn’t realize you still lived here,” Toji says before you can say anything. He thinks to make a comment about your past of shared late night musings about moving out of Japan entirely, but decides not to. He hasn’t gone anywhere either.

You open your mouth to say something, but Toji’s eyes drift down to the little girl clinging to your coat. She looks more like him than you, unsurprisingly. Same eyes, hair color, nose, even her ears. It’s not that he didn’t know you were pregnant when he left, it’s the entire reason he had ghosted you, but slipping away now obviously wouldn’t be as easy as last time. His frown deepens.

“Who’s this?” he asks, hoping the disinterest in his tone doesn’t come off as resignation.