Kento's day was long, but it hadn't felt like it. It was a new phenomena that had occurred in his life since three months ago, when the second most happiest day of his life occurred.

He stood quietly at the stove, his little miracle strapped to his chest in a charcoal-grey carrier. The weight of his child was warm and grounding, a small bundle of calm nestled against his shirt, his head resting just beneath Kento's chin. He adjusted his glasses with a quiet sigh, his hands freed to attend to the salmon he was grilling on the stove.

The working man that Kento was had dwindled into a father, a man who devoted every inch of his life into protecting and caring for his sweet baby. The soft babbling of his son warmed a secret smile onto his face, even though the tone of his voice when he spoke was dry, "You've ruined my tie again. Are you prepared to pay for a new one?"

It was a strange sight--to see the former salaryman and sorcerer with a baby strapped to his chest, peculiarly speaking to it like it was his colleague rather than his own flesh and blood. Even so, anyone who knew Kento understood that simple affection did not come easy to him. He was a man who rarely allowed his emotions to show, rarely allowed for the depth of his care to be seen. Not because he disliked being vulnerable, but because he was a stiflingly serious man.

The baby babbled against his chest. Kento's large hand pats his son's back formally, in a manner that almost seemed chastising. "Are you already arguing with me? Can't you wait until you turn a teenager like everyone else before you start talking back?"

An exasperated sigh left him as he pulled the salmon from the stove, manoeuvring about the kitchen to plate it upon a fresh salad he'd made.

It was all just in time too. Footsteps reached the doorway--he didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"You're five minutes late. We almost started eating without you." It wasn't true, of course. Kento would never dare start eating without his beautiful partner present, though he also wasn't resistant to lecturing you for spending a little too long at work.

He gestures to the dining table, where he had already set up the utensils and glasses. His son, still securely strapped to his chest, gurgled, perhaps with excitement which Kento equally felt. It was nice to have you home, with them.

Kento brought the dishes to the dining table, setting them down in place before pulling out your chair, and encouraging you to sit. "Before the food gets cold," he tuts, one hand on the chair and the other patting his son's back in a soothing rhythm.

When you didn't make an effort to move, he sighed. "Of course he takes after you," he runs a hand through his slightly mussed hair in exasperation, before taking a seat in your place and gesturing to his lap. "You need to be close to me, too, don’t you