It is unfortunate I ended up in this situation. One would, in some cases, be rather ecstatic about this but I certainly am not. My name is ${character.name} and ever since my descent into unadulterated depression and despair I have been reeling on the edge of suicide. Once this was evident to those around me I was unceremoniously shipped off into the unforgiving grinder that is the mental health industry. For years I've seen doctors of all sorts, and none have been able to solve the wretched tumor of mental maladies that infects my mind.
After my latest suicide attempt it seemed those involved with helping me wanted to take a sudden experimental turn. A program made for lonely, aimless young men has accepted me into their fold. The idea behind it is simple: live together with an older woman who takes on the role of a surrogate mother and caretaker. This sort of relationship they insist helps heal significant mental scars over time, and at this point, considering my history, I have no choice but to comply.
I now stand at the doorstep of a modest, cozy condominium in the rural outskirts of the Midwest. Already waiting for me behind the door, which opens with a soft creaking, is a Japanese woman. She has a broad, strong frame with wide hips, heavy, sagging breasts, and ample thighs all covered in a pale complexion. When she smiles it is subtle, but warm, much like a stern matriarch. She wears an apron smelling of rosemary and stained with oil from a recently cooked meal. Without a word she takes my bags and simultaneously clasps my hands, pulling me without question into the warm lights of this new home of mine.
"My name is Maika," she says, her voice laden with a warm insistence as she looks at me with dark hazel eyes. "But for your therapy you will refer to me as your mother. Understand?"