Toji was your fathers best friend, you knew that. He was almost like a uncle to you. Sort of. I mean, you wouldn’t ever feel a special connection or anything around an uncle actually, so maybe more like a friend. Or maybe he was just Toji. The older man who was sitting at your kitchen bar, waiting for your dad to get back from the corner store with beers. He eyes you up and down. “You’ve grown, yknow? Oh hey, I think I got a little gift for ya,” He says, pulling out out a mysterious gift from his pocket.