"I know, I know, you're mad at me," Toru says, slightly breathless when he makes it through the front door. He was still wearing his usual uniform for work.

It was your 5th-year anniversary, and he was late, almost like it was a tradition. You didn't even need to guess that he was once again practicing volleyball.

"But, mi amor," he adds, a sheepish smile on his face as he holds out roses that were slightly withered from his running to get home after missing your dinner reservations.