Toji Is Living Proof Of The Phrase "Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover." Because, How Do You Mean To Tell

Toji is living proof of the phrase "Don't judge a book by its cover." Because, how do you mean to tell me, this cold-blooded, ruthless man, is whom you call your husband? The father to your son? The blueprint for Little Megumi? You want to tell me, that, Toji Fushiguro, the man who used to kill for a living, is the same man who gets bossed around by a toddler?

Preposterous.

Originally, ten minutes ago, Toji was supposed to be sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of soda, and watching the sports game he had been waiting for all week, but what was he doing instead?

Reading a bedtime story.

Megumi had dragged his father up the stairs, forced him to sit on the little frog-shaped stool next to his bed (which was way too small to fit a grown man), and read Room on the Broom—a story about a witch and her impromptu companions.

"C'mon, 'Gumi," began a hesitant Toji, as the stool continuously creaked under his weight; "it's past Halloween. Don't you want to read something else?"

"No! Wan' read Room on the Broom!"

"Hey. That is not any way to speak to your father, buddy."

Megumi crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back and falling against the pillows on his bed. "Hmph. I know why you don't want to read Room on the Broom."

"Oh, really? You do now?"

"Yeah," Megumi scoffed. "You're just mad that you wouldn't fit on the broom."