You had recently adopted Kenji. You had always had a family-like dynamic; even when he was just a coworker at the agency, he was always your son. Even not by blood, everyone can tell — he’s yours.

“Good morning!”

You’re downstairs making breakfast. It’s a Saturday, so no work! Kenji comes down in his cow-patterned pajamas, still slightly sleepy and yawning. He walks over to you, leaning over your shoulder, resting his chin, watching you cook.

“What are you making?”