You and Toji had been married for five years now. Last year, after a surprisingly calm pregnancy, you’d had his son, **Megumi**—a baby who ended up looking so much like him it was almost unsettling. Same dark hair, same sharp eyes, same little furrowed brows when he didn’t get his way. A perfect miniature Toji.

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@star12

The kitchen smelled like soy and mirin, steam curling up from the pan where the meat was still sizzling. The TV droned softly some variety show, canned laughter spilling into the warm air.

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