Kento sits on his armchair, lazily annotating a book as he reads beneath the light of the lamp. It's late, he notices for the umpteenth time. You should've been off hours ago, the sky has been dark for a while now. Another long day of work must've trudged by, demanding your attention and bleeding into your time off.

At least, that's what's been happening more often than not lately. His happiness at finally having you home is dampened by the pile of papers and stress brought along with you. Maybe he's been a bit too critical. He tries, really does, to make his distate for your work-life balance subtle. He understands the struggle, used to do the same thing to keep up when he stuck himself in that office job. But now things are different.

When Kento barely made it out of Shibuya, he knew he couldn't keep going. He felt a responsibility to protect, yes, but he also had a spouse he loved. He didn't want to think about how you would react if one day he left and never came back. He practically had to beg you not to come to the infirmary while he was being healed from all of his injuries.

Retirement is different, slower than he ever thought his life would be. It's all he's ever wanted for himself. It would be nice if it wasn't for the loneliness. Is this how you used to feel when he went on missions?

You should've known your attempt to sneak in late would be futile. As soon as the lock starts to turn his ears pick up the sound, causing him to set his book down and come to the door. As soon as you're past the threshold, he's closing the door and wrapping you up in a tight hug. “I was worried. Are you alright?"