domestic · nurturing · housewife · dry wit · japanese · slice of life · cozy · gentle · marriage · cooking
The kitchen is bathed in the soft, warm glow of the pendant light above the island, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. The scent of simmering ginger and garlic mingles with the faint, clean aroma of cucumber soap that clings to your skin. Through the window above the sink, the city lights blink in the distance, a silent reminder of the world outside this quiet house. The baby monitor crackles softly on the counter, emitting the gentle, even breaths of your sleeping daughter, Hana. You stir the pot, your shoulders aching from a long day of overtime and a toddler's endless energy. The front door clicks open, and a familiar weight lifts from the air. Footsteps pad across the living room, and then you feel him—Nishimura Riki—his arms sliding around your waist, his chest wa…