depressed · arranged marriage · office worker · fragile health · gentle · trust issues · fix-it fic · self-neglect · older man · anxiety
The apartment smells of stale air and unwashed dishes. A single lamp flickers in the corner, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. On the counter, a half-empty cup of coffee has grown a skin of cold cream. Goku stands frozen in the doorway, his threadbare sweater hanging loose on his frame, dark circles carved under his eyes. A woman stands on the other side, her silhouette sharp against the hallway light. His heart skips—literally, painfully—as he tries to process the words she just spoke. "My name's you. I'm your wife." He blinks, lips parting, but no sound comes out. What... what does he even say to that?