Chapter Text
Toji Fushiguro has a problem. Megumi is a picky eater.
Behind all the frustration, Toji could understand that Megumi wouldn’t touch his burned bacon and flat pancakes, but he had run out of ideas by now. Delivery, street food, snacks; everything returned untouched in Megumi’s lunchbox to be eventually eaten by the father. Nothing went to waste in their tiny household.
The man stopped worrying about food when he learned to thrive on his family’s scraps in his childhood, but his son wasn’t him. Now that Megumi was entering kindergarten he had to have an early breakfast and be sent off with lunch. With all the complaints of the kid falling asleep in class, Toji’s patience was wearing thin.
It is a sunny morning on their walk to school, and while Megumi’s attention is taken by the nesting birds in the passing trees, Toji is occupied inventing a new excuse to give the teacher. The image of pointing fingers doesn’t stop until he takes notice of you.
You are setting up a wooden chalkboard sign on the sidewalk and the hurry you carry is clear when you disappear through a door at the side.
Latte, espresso, sandwiches, bowls, he reads on the sign.
Seems cheap, Toji judges by the front of the small walk-up window café.
After he drags Megumi along, they curiously peek inside to find you setting some cups and things that could only be syrup and sugar. The smell of fresh ground coffee is so sweet, it holds both of them in the moment, but only before Toji remembers why they were there, so he clears his throat.
The raspy sound makes you jump, and you take a deep breath before turning to your new customer.
“Morning!” Is your automatic greeting, but the dark figure in the window takes you by surprise. You can only stare at the guy and in doing so your eyes travel to the smaller hands holding him. You decide it’s easier to fix your gaze on the little boy peeking out of him.
“Hey, bud. How’s your morning?”
And Megumi holds your gaze for a few seconds before hiding behind his dad.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Toji frowns at the boy.
But he’s so cute, following you with one of his shiny blue eyes. “A man of few words,” you chuckle.
Both of you stare at Megumi for a bit before Toji continues. “Do you have the food prepared already? I’m dropping him off at school now.”
“I can have anything done in about ten minutes if you guys are in a hurry,” you promise, and his stare is so intense you hope he didn’t hear you swallow.
“Okay,” he glares at Megumi again, debating on telling a stranger his current issue. In the end, you seem friendly enough. “I’m having trouble making him eat anything.”
You blink before turning your attention to the kid. “Do you like anything sweet, dear?”
Megumi gives you a short glance before shaking his head no.
“How about a sandwich? We make a killer beef sandwich.”
He seems to think it hard for a minute, only to give you the same response. And you start to worry, keeping his dad in the corner of your eye.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“We’ll just get anything for him, really,” Toji interrupts.
“Okay,” you gulp. “I’ll be back real quick.”
With more rushed steps, you make your way into a small door in the back. Now alone, Toji picks Megumi to sit him by the small table in the front, and he sighs before accompanying him on the other chair.
Tap, tap, tap, you hear his anxious foot even at the back. He’s uncomfortable, sitting in the pocket-sized chair and surrounded by plant life.
But it doesn’t take you more than ten minutes to be back with a small takeout box, and instead of handing it through the window, you go out the door and kneel in front of the kid.
“Here you go. Hope you like it,” you whisper, making sure he holds the box in his hand.
Something inside the clear box catches Megumi’s attention. After careful handling, his face seems to light up at the sight of onigiris in the form of pandas, and something that seems like bread in the shape of puppies. Without a beat, he’s got one in his hand, but before making another move he looks back to his dad in search of permission.
“Taste it,” Toji mutters to him, an eyebrow raised at the picturesque lunch.
The boy takes a small bite at the little puppy sandwich and when his eyes seem to shine you can’t help but giggle and rub his hair lightly.
“I babysit too and usually this helps to get the little ones eating,” you smile without being able to look back to the dad.
But Toji stares at you longer than he should.
The warm feeling you have joins you back inside the café, and before you are about to resume work, Toji’s rough voice startles you again. “How much is it?”
You nervously wave his question off.
“It’s okay. On the house.”
In any other circumstance, Toji would have been out of there in less than a second. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten stuff for free. “Sure you won’t get in trouble for that?”
You take the moment to give him a good look, mostly at the scar on his lips. That isn’t even on the menu, you want to say, but a long breath is necessary for you to even say a word.
“No, don’t worry. Come back soon?” You say with your standard goodbye, but it sounds more like a request this time.
“Thank you,” he mutters, the words being a struggle this time. “Say thank you,” he nudges his kid’s hand.
“Thank you,” Megumi mutters in a similar way, only quieter.
And you wave both of them off, ignoring the fast pace of your heart when you greet a regular customer afterward.
On their way back home in the evening, Toji throws a glance inside the café when they pass by, Megumi copying him on top of his shoulders. Another girl has taken your place there, so they change their route to the supermarket. He’s going to find those goddamn animal cut-outs.