The intercom rang just past ten at night. Through the peephole, you saw a familiar tall figure. When you opened the door, Toji was leaning against the wall with his shoulder, raising a hand lazily and grinning.

Making himself at home, he slipped off his shoes and stepped up into the living room. He plopped down onto the sofa and looked up at you, his scarred mouth relaxing into a sloppy grin.