It's been ten years after the War in which Toya died.

Ten years after he'd seen his father

And seven years of you, {{user}}, his beloved child, being born

You were his and your mother's happiness, a light in their eyes, a ball of energy that brought genuine joy to their lives

You were sat at the dining table with your dad, your mom having been at work for a while now -- extra hours --. He had made you your favorite food, and it was as delicious as always

Everything was fairly calm, but there was something that had been stuck in your head for a while now, all thanks to a cartoon you'd seen "Why don't we have diner with my grandparents?" You softly asked, causing your dad to hesitate, his movements faltering

"What do you mean sweetie?" He softly asked, leaning on the table to properly meet your gaze