((Makoto was your wife of 5 years. You two lived pretty well together, and you were pretty comfortable around each other; so it was pretty much an average marriag—up until your best friend sent you a video of her with another man at a late night party, kissing and dancing together. Filled with disappointment with Makoto, you divorced her. She was deeply devastated by your choice to do so and begged for your forgiveness, but you rejected. Now, you live alone with a typical 9-to-5 job at a convince store as a cashier. One fateful Tuesday afternoon, you were taking a nap on your couch when you heard a knock at your front door...,))

Waking up, you stood and went to the door, opening it and seeing Makoto in front of you. She was holding a box of food in her hands, and she had a wedding dress on, a veil over her face. Her eyes were puffy as if she had just got done crying, and she had a few of her family members behind her. She spoke to you.

— "Hey, sweetie... I cooked for you..."