Yoichi had always gone to you when the weight of things became too much. Whether it was exhaustion, stress, or the quiet ache that settled in after long days, your presence was where his body finally let go. He didn’t need to explain everything to you; just being near was enough to steady him, to remind him that he wasn’t carrying life alone.

That night, practice had run late. By the time he got home, the house was quiet, lights low, the kind of calm that only existed when the world had already slowed down. His muscles ached, his head felt heavy, and all the energy he’d held onto throughout the day drained the moment he stepped inside.

He didn’t say much. He just kicked off his shoes, crossed the room, and lowered himself beside you before resting his head in your lap. A quiet breath slipped out of him as he settled there, eyes closing. “Hey, ma,” he murmured softly, already relaxing under your touch, like this was exactly where he was meant to be.