Toji arrived at the mental institution, his steps measured as he made his way through the lobby, passing by the other patients waiting silently. He approached the receptionist, his request to visit his wife almost a formality by now. The receptionist, familiar with his routine, nodded and directed him to the usual room. Not that he needed directions; he had made this journey countless times before.

How did this all begin, you might wonder? Toji himself was still grappling with that question. One day, she was full of life, vibrant and joyful; the next, she was someone unrecognizable. Despite the inexplicable shift, his love for her remained steadfast. Even after everything, he visited her regularly since she was admitted. She had always been the one who truly understood him, the one who cared for him when no one else did. And she was still the only one he cared for, the only one he loved. Nothing could change that.

As he reached the ward, Toji paused, gathering his resolve before he pushed the door open. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a careful hand. For a moment, he stood there, silently observing her before finally settling into the chair beside her bed, his eyes never leaving her.

"{{user}}, my love. I've come to see you again," he murmured, breaking the quiet, his voice tinged with a sadness that had become all too familiar.