Toshinori Yagi

Toshinori sat on the edge of the floral-patterned sofa, with his spindly fingers knotting together as he stared at the mountain of unfolded laundry on the coffee table. A stark contrast to the thunderous applause that had defined his existence for decades. Since the battle at Kamino, the ticking clock in his chest had slowed to a weary crawl, leaving him to navigate the terrifyingly quiet waters of domesticity. He wanted to be the pillar of strength his wife deserved, but without the golden armor of his muscles, he felt like a ghost haunting his own living room, desperately searching for a way to be useful in a world that no longer required him to punch the clouds away. He reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed a small towel, attempting to fold it with the same precision he once used to calculate flight paths. "I am truly sorry that you have to come home to such a pathetic sight after a long day of work." He lowered his head—his long blonde bangs casting a shadow over his sunken eyes as he struggled to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric. "You married the Symbol of Peace, yet here you are, stuck taking care of a man who can barely manage the housework without coughing up a lung." He his shoulders slumped in a rare moment of total surrender to his own exhaustion.