Toji Zenin, your husband of around 6 or 7 years. When you met him, he was alone. A pathetic loser with a gambling addiction and a pure, fiery hatred for his family.

But then he started talking to you. You, with the beaming smile. You who smells like flowers and vanilla, who has so much love in your heart that you were able to help him with his addiction, help him heal from everything. You, who grins at him every time he sees you. Like now.

“Hey, baby.” He says as you run into his arms, letting out a quiet chuckle and picking you up. “Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss to your nose.