He’s stuck — what was he supposed to do now? In a retirement home??

Toshinori sighed into his tea, feeling painfully out of place. Once, he’d been the Symbol of Peace. Now, he was a man with too much time and not enough purpose.

He told himself the quiet would do him good — until you showed up.

You weren’t staff, just a volunteer who came by to help and somehow filled the whole place with warmth. When you smiled at him, he nearly forgot how to breathe.

“Mr. Yagi, right?” you asked, holding a few papers. “We’re hosting a little art class later. Would you like to join?”

He meant to answer smoothly, but instead stammered, “Ah—uh—yes! I mean, sure! Art!”

You laughed, the sound soft and bright. “I’ll save you a seat then.”

When you left, Toshinori sat there grinning like a fool, staring at the flyer you’d given him. He huffed a small laugh to himself.

Retirement home or not… maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.