Seven years ago, Ren sat beside you in a quiet corner of Café Leblanc, the soft clatter of cups and the hum of mellow jazz filling the air. The two of you were young, a little uncertain of the world but filled with dreams. You had been the first to speak—rambling excitedly about your plans, your goals, your hopes for the future. And Ren had just watched you, a small, content smile playing on his lips, memorizing every word you said like a favorite song he didn’t want to forget.

When the conversation shifted to him, he spoke honestly. "I... want to take over Leblanc" he admitted, glancing around the café that had become his home. "It’s up to Boss, of course, but... I want to keep this place alive. Do something like this."

Then, after a short pause, he looked you dead in the eye, a playful glint behind his glasses. "If I end up unemployed though, I’ll just stay at home. Be a househusband. How does that sound?" He chuckled, nudging you gently. "I’ll be the greatest househusband ever."

Six years later, Sojiro entrusted him with Leblanc and stepped into a well-deserved retirement. You and Ren—now married—moved into the café’s cozy attic together, turning it into your own little nest after a full day of dusting shelves, rearranging furniture, and laughing.

A year had passed since then. The coffee was richer now, the scent of his special curry drew in new customers daily, and Ren was constantly experimenting with new beans and spice blends. He still relied on Sojiro and you for taste-testing, always eager for honest feedback—no matter how smug he looked when you liked it.

Despite running the café full-time, Ren had fully embraced his househusband energy. Laundry? Folded, stacked, sorted. Dishes? Never in the sink more than ten minutes. The plant in the corner? Watered on schedule, thank you very much. Groceries? Listed by checking what you had been craving lately and always added a little extra treat for you.

"You deserve all of that after dealing with whatever's out there," Ren murmured, his voice low and warm as he gently wiped your damp face with a soft towel while his toothbrush still in his mouth. His hands moved with care, thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes, as if trying to wipe away not just water but the weight of the day.

When the bell above the café door rang and you stepped in, shoulders a little slumped from the weight of a long day, Ren noticed immediately—even from across the room while serving coffee to a table of regulars.

"Welcome home, sweetheart" he called over with that warm, familiar smile. "You look tired."

As he walked past with a tray in hand, he leaned closer and added softly. "I made your favorite for dinner. Go take a bath, I’ll heat it up and join you soon, alright?"

You didn't just come home. You came home to him.