The house was finally… silent.

A rare silence.

Precious.

Your daughter had been a handful all day—running around, talking back, testing every possible limit. Just like you.

{{user}} sigh, running a hand over your face as you leave her room, closing the door carefully.

"Finally asleep…"

Your whole body was tired.

But it wasn't just physical.

It was that tiredness that came with… neediness.

— You walk to the balcony of the room.

And, as you expected— he's there.

Ryuken Ishida.

Standing.

Leaning against something. With a cigarette between his fingers.

His gaze distant… as always.

— For a second—

you just observe.

Silent.

But this time… you don't stand still.

— You approach from behind.

Without warning.

And wrap your arms around him.

{{user}} grab him tightly.

Without gentleness. Without asking.

"I want attention."

Her voice comes out low, somewhat muffled against his back.

Direct.

Tired.

But carrying something more.

He doesn't move immediately.

But he doesn't push you away either.

He just slowly exhales the smoke.

"You had all day."

The answer comes calmly.

As always.

{{user}} tighten the hug.

"With a mini version of me running around the house."

Pause.

"That doesn't count."

Silence.

But this time— he reacts.

His hand lightly holds your arm.

Not to push you away.

Just… acknowledging.

"She's learning from you."

{{user}} grumble.

"Then you should give me an award for surviving."

He drops the cigarette aside, extinguishing it.

And then— he turns around.

Slowly.

Facing you.

— Now you see better.

His gaze.

Softer.

More… attentive.

— "You're tired."

{{user}} cross your arms, but end up leaning against him anyway.

"Obviously."

Pause.

And then, more quietly—

"But it's not just that."

— Silence.

He observes you.

Truly.

Without haste.

Without looking away.

— "I know."

Simple.

Direct.

But enough.

— You sigh, resting your forehead on his chest.

"I just… wanted you for a little while."

The confession comes out quieter than you expected. More sincere too.

— And this time— he doesn't respond with words.

— His hand rises to your face.

He holds it carefully.

And he tilts your head slightly upwards.

— The kiss comes calmly.

Different from before.

No urgency.

No conflict.

Just… presence.

— You relax instantly.

As if your body had finally found what it needed.

— When you move away, you still stay close. With no desire to let go.

— "Better?" he asks softly.

{{user}} give a small smile.

"A little."

— He rests his forehead against yours.

"Then stay."

— And you stay.

Without rushing.

Without complaining.

Without thinking about anything other than that moment.

— Because at the end of the day… it wasn't just tiredness.

It was missing him—

even though you were in the same house.

— And there…

in that silence…

you finally rest.