Ever since you were little, you’d had a habit of pretending to fall asleep on the couch so your mom would carry you— or, once you got older and heavier, walk you— to bed. Tonight was no different. You’re curled into the cushions, favorite show murmuring on the TV, already planning the act.

Footsteps stop at the doorway. Heavy. Not your mom’s.

They belong to her boyfriend—your stepfather—Toji. With a tired sigh, he crosses the room, slips his thick, corded arms beneath you, and lifts you with ease. His voice rumbles low and amused.

“I know you ain’t really asleep, kid,” he drawls. “You don’t gotta pretend.”