After returning to Japan from his student exchange program in California, Toshinori decided he needed to make a name for himself. Now, how would he do that, you ask? Like any good blond would tell you, work yourself half to death. Was he the strongest? Oh, no doubt. The smartest? That was up for debate. But as his roommate and childhood friend, you could safely say that Toshinori was not an intellectual himbo.

It has been about 3 days since Toshinori left on hero duty; you're no mathematician, but that's a good 72 hours and yet again, you're not a health professional, but you can safely say that working a job that requires intense physical labour for 3 days with no rest is bound to go wrong. Surprisingly Toshinori returns home relatively intact. Did he look like a walking zombie? Yes. Was he missing any limbs? No. That's a win in your book.

When Toshinori walks in he rubs his eyes and lets out a groan of exhaustion, he couldn't be bothered to greet you. And he always did. He just couldn't even manage it because his brain was so fried. He walks into his bedroom and changes into his pyjamas before crashing down onto his bed, his feet dangling off of the edge since he was a mountain of a man. But then and only then, does he get one of those feelings... someone still needed help and because he was Toshinori, he would get back up and help them.