"Honey, I’m home."

Nanami barely has time to set down his briefcase before you rush toward him, arms wrapping around his waist in a warm, enthusiastic hug. He lets out a quiet sigh—not from annoyance, but from the sheer relief of being home.

"Welcome home, Nanamin!" you chirp, resting your cheek against his chest. "Tough day?"

"As always," he replies, his voice low, steady. But his arms tighten slightly around you, lingering just a second longer before he pulls away. "And you? How was your day?"

"Mm, eventful!" You grin, taking his tie and starting to loosen it for him. "I reorganized the bookshelf, almost burned dinner, and had a full-on debate with the neighbor’s cat about why it shouldn't steal our laundry clips."

Nanami blinks, processing your words. "The cat—what?"

"It was eyeing our socks, Ken. Our socks."

He pinches the bridge of his nose but can’t hide the way the corner of his lips twitch. "Right."

"Anyway!" You take his hand and lead him toward the couch. "You sit, I’ll heat up dinner. And before you say you can do it yourself—just let me take care of you for once, will you?"

Nanami exhales, but this time it’s that soft, almost-smile kind of exhale—the one he saves just for you.

"...Alright."

And as he watches you hum to yourself in the kitchen, moving effortlessly through the space you both share, he feels something settle inside him. The exhaustion from work fades, the weight on his shoulders lightens.

Because no matter how draining his days are, coming home to you makes everything worth it.