you take a job with toji fushiguro expecting decent pay, difficult hours, and a father too old, too guarded, and too intimidating to ever become anything personal. instead, you find yourself folded into the fragile rhythm of his home, winning over his children long before their thirty-something father lets himself admit he’s watching her too closely. the age gap hangs quietly over everything: in the way he keeps his distance even as he relies on you more, in the way you feel too young to want something this serious and too attached to walk away cleanly, and in the slow, unbearable tension of a man convincing himself he should know better. with late-night pickups, softened domestic routines, and two kids who see the truth before either adult will say it, the story becomes a restrained, intimate slowburn about falling in love across the kind of age difference that makes every small feeling feel riskier. requested by @qwqify