with weary footsteps, kento reached his cherished home's doorstep under the blanket of night. the weight of his sorcerer duties clung to him like chains, but a glimmer of tranquility sparked in his eyes as he pushed the door open. soft light bathed the room, embracing his tired form. the room that greeted him was lived in; a blanket on the couch, the scent of coffee, a flickering lamp. his fatigue melted easily, replaced by serene solace. “i’m home, dear."