The clinking of dishes and laughter from the dinner table slowly faded as the family moved into the living room. The evening had grown soft and quiet, the golden light from the ceiling lamp casting a gentle glow over the furniture. Ai curled up beside Shin on the long couch, her eyes still sparkling from earlier, while little Asahi clambered up onto Shin's lap without a word, settling into him like he belonged there.
"Onii-Chan is warm," Asahi mumbled, leaning back against Shin's chest, his tiny fingers grabbing at the fabric of his shirt as if afraid he might vanish.
Ai giggled, "Of course he is. He's a space heater in winter and a big softy all year round."
Shin chuckled, gently wrapping an arm around Asahi's small body, letting the boy tuck himself against him. "That makes me sound like a pet."
Ai leaned her head on his shoulder, whispering with a soft pout, "If only I could keep you all to myself…"
Before Shin could respond, Ai straightened up suddenly and turned to her parents, still standing near the entrance of the room. "Why don't you two stay the night? We have plenty of room, and it's already late."
But her mother smiled warmly and shook her head. "We'd love to, sweetheart, but we both have work tomorrow morning."
Her father nodded, adjusting his glasses. "We only came by to drop Asahi off and spend some time with you both. We don't want to impose."
Ai opened her mouth to argue, but Shin reached up and began gently petting her head, his fingers slipping through her silky hair in calming strokes. She instantly melted into the touch, her ears twitching under his hand, her cheeks puffing slightly as she pouted.
"You're so unfair," she muttered, her voice quiet and playful, her irritation fading fast as she leaned into his palm.
"That's my job," Shin whispered.
Then Ai's father spoke again, "Ai, why don't you give me a tour of the house before we leave?"
She perked up. "Oh! Right. Okay, come on, Dad." She stood, smoothing down her skirt, then glanced back at Shin and Asahi one last time before disappearing down the hall with her father.
That left Shin alone on the couch, Asahi still on his lap and now nuzzling contently into his chest, eyes fluttering.
"You're really comfy, Onii-Chan…" the boy murmured. "I wish you were mine forever…"
Shin smiled softly. "I already am, kiddo."
"Really?" Asahi blinked up at him with big, hopeful eyes. "Then can I stay here with you always?"
Before Shin could respond, a new presence settled beside him. His mother had come around the couch and now gently sat beside him, her eyes warm with a soft maternal glow. She looked at him not with scrutiny or concern, but with the kind of affection that only a mother could carry in her bones.
"You've grown up so much," she said quietly, her voice thick with something sweet and heavy. "But somehow, you still look just like my baby boy when you're holding a child like that."
Shin blinked and let out a small, sheepish laugh. "You're making me sound like I'm thirty."
"You might as well be," she smiled, reaching up to brush a bit of hair away from his face. "You've always been more mature than your age. But also… so reckless. Always trying to protect Ai, even when you were just a boy."
Shin turned to face her more fully, and she cupped his cheek with her warm, gentle hand. Her thumb brushed over his skin lovingly, and Shin leaned into her palm with a deep breath.
"Promise me something," she said, her tone suddenly serious but never sharp. "Promise me that you'll always take care of yourself. And of Ai. She looks up to you more than you know, and she loves you very, very deeply."
"I know," Shin replied quietly. "I promise. I'll protect her. And myself."
She smiled again, eyes misting just slightly as her other hand found his, and he placed his own on top of hers, holding it against his cheek.
"That's my good boy," she whispered. And then she leaned in and pressed a long, motherly kiss to his cheek, lingering just enough to make his chest ache with warmth. "I love you, my baby boy."
Shin didn't answer at first—his throat caught. But he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her into a soft, close hug. "I love you too, Mom."
She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand still gently cradling his face.
"You used to throw your shoes at the wall whenever you were mad," she murmured with a chuckle. "And you'd sulk under the table if I didn't make your favorite food."
Asahi looked up, eyes wide. "Really?! Onii-Chan was a baby?"
"Very much so," she grinned.
"Did not," Shin mumbled, his cheeks flushed.
"Did too," his mom countered with a grin. "And Ai would always cling to you so tightly at night that sometimes you couldn't even roll over. She'd say, 'If I let go, he'll disappear!'"
Asahi gasped dramatically. "Like magic?!"
Shin ruffled his hair. "Not quite. She was just being her clingy little self."
"I want to cling too!" Asahi announced, suddenly wrapping his arms around Shin's torso tightly, squishing his face against him. "If Onee-Chan could do it, so can I!"
Shin laughed, a full and honest laugh, rubbing the back of Asahi's head. "You're gonna make me suffocate, kid."
"Noooo," Asahi groaned, not letting go. "You're the best big brother ever! Even better than the anime ones!"
Their mother chuckled, resting more of her weight into Shin's side as she closed her eyes, her voice soft and nostalgic. "You used to draw Ai all those pictures when she was sick. I still have a drawer full of them. Cats, superheroes, a bunch of you holding hands."
"Seriously?" Shin raised an eyebrow.
"You even wrote her a letter when she had a fever once. It said: 'Get well soon, or I'll beat the sickness up myself!'" she laughed.
Asahi gasped again. "That's so cool! onii-Chan's a sickness fighter!"
Shin sighed, clearly trying not to smile. "Don't give me a hero title like that."
"You are a hero," Asahi said earnestly, tightening his hug. "You make Onee-Chan happy, you make me feel safe, and you always smell like hugs."
Shin blinked. "I… what?"
"Like good hugs," Asahi corrected with a nod. "The kind that make you feel sleepy and warm and like everything will be okay."
Their mother smiled deeply, her hand brushing back Shin's hair again. "See? Even little Asahi can see it. You bring people peace, Shin."
"I guess…" he murmured, overwhelmed by the softness surrounding him—the sleepy weight of Asahi, the warmth of his mother, the glow of the living room lamp, the fading scent of home-cooked dinner still lingering in the air.
A long silence passed between them. Asahi was now half-dozing, arms still clinging around Shin's waist, breathing slow and rhythmic. His mother hadn't moved her head from Shin's shoulder, only continued talking in a dreamy tone.
"Ai's always been the noisy one," she mused. "She would follow you around like a duckling, always tugging at your shirt, wanting your attention."
Shin closed his eyes for a moment, heart stirring with the memories.
"She still follows me around," he said softly. "Even now."
"She always will," his mother said, pressing another kiss to his temple. "Because you've always been her everything."
He breathed deeply, folding his arms around Asahi and gently resting his cheek against the boy's soft black hair. "Yeah… I know."
"I'm so proud of you," his mother whispered. "You're growing up into someone truly kind, Shin. Not perfect, but someone this whole family can lean on."
Shin felt a sudden wave of emotion rise in his chest. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His silence was full of everything—gratitude, love, quiet ache, and a sense of responsibility that felt heavier and warmer than ever before.
They sat like that for a long time. A boy holding a boy. A mother holding her son. Wrapped in the kind of peace that comes only after long roads walked together.
And from the hallway, just barely audible, came Ai's voice, cheerful and laughing as she pointed things out to their father. Her voice carried like a lullaby into the room, grounding everything around it.
This was family. This was home… but also warmer than ever before.
His mother must've felt it too, because she suddenly cupped both his cheeks with her palms, turning his face gently toward hers. Her fingers were soft, warm, and trembling just a little with emotion. She gazed at him with the full force of a mother's love—a gaze that saw through time, from the day she first held him in the hospital to this exact moment.
"My beautiful boy…" she whispered, her voice catching. "I can still see the baby who used to wrap his tiny fingers around mine… and now look at you. So tall, so handsome, so gentle. But still my little boy."
Shin smiled, embarrassed, but didn't pull away. His mother's hands cradled his face as though it were something precious, too delicate to ever let go. Then she leaned in and kissed both his cheeks—once, twice, three times—each kiss lingering, each one followed by a gentle brush of her thumb across his skin.
"Mom…" he murmured.
"I can't help it," she said, resting her forehead against his now. "I missed this face so much. I missed holding you like this. You've been working so hard… loving Ai, building your life. I'm proud, so proud—but I'm selfish too. I want to spoil my baby boy, just a little longer…"
She pulled him into another hug, wrapping both arms around him as if to shield him from the world itself. Her head returned to his shoulder, her body close, the scent of her warm perfume surrounding him. Her hand moved in slow, affectionate strokes through his hair, petting him like he was still her little child who needed to be soothed to sleep.
Asahi stirred in his lap but didn't wake. He simply shifted closer into Shin's chest, one small hand resting against his brother's heart.
"You smell like lavender," she murmured dreamily. "Still using the same body wash I bought you last spring?"
Shin laughed under his breath. "Yeah… I guess I got used to it."
"It suits you," she said. "You always liked softer things… even as a baby, you'd cry if your blanket was too rough. You needed gentle things, warm things. Just like your heart."
Shin stayed quiet. He was never good at taking compliments—not this kind, not ones so full of tenderness they made his chest ache.
She shifted to look at him again, one hand still stroking his hair, the other now caressing his cheek in little circles. "You know what I used to do when you were too grumpy to eat? I'd kiss your cheeks until you giggled and got annoyed."
He chuckled. "That's probably why I developed cheek trauma."
"Oh hush," she said playfully—and kissed both his cheeks again, even slower this time, whispering in between, "Mwah. Mwah. My sweet little Shin."
"Mom…" he mumbled, blushing.
"Mwah," she said once more, dragging the kiss just under his eye this time. "You don't know how much I missed spoiling you. I see you every now and then—but it's not the same. I want more days like this."
"I'll visit more often," he said softly. "I promise."
"You better," she whispered, resting her head back on his shoulder, nuzzling him gently. "You're my first baby. The one who made me a mom. The one who taught me what love really feels like."
Shin closed his eyes. Her words weren't fancy. But they wrapped around him like a warm blanket.
"I remember when I first held you," she went on, her voice barely above a hum. "You were so tiny. You didn't even cry much. Just stared at me with those big, dark eyes. Like you were already watching over me. Like you were already protecting me."
"That's… kind of backwards," Shin whispered.
"Maybe," she smiled. "But that's who you are. Even then. Always giving. Always shouldering burdens without complaint. Always making your mama feel like the luckiest woman in the world."
She kissed his cheek again, then once more, then again—each one softer than the last, as though time itself had slowed down to let her savor it. Her lips brushed his skin like butterfly wings, and her hands stayed firm on his cheeks.
"I'm never letting you go," she whispered. "Not in my heart. Not ever."
Shin didn't answer. He just reached up and gently placed his hand over hers, squeezing it lightly.
They sat there for a long time like that. Asahi's soft breathing remained steady, his adorable face nuzzled into Shin's chest, his tiny black hair fluffed messily. He looked like a baby fox in sleep. The little hoodie he wore had ridden up slightly, revealing a tiny sliver of his back, so Shin gently adjusted it, tucking him in.
His mother watched all this, her eyes shining.
"You're so good with him," she said. "It's no wonder he loves you so much."
"He's easy to love," Shin murmured, brushing his knuckles against Asahi's cheek.
"Still…" she cupped Shin's cheek again. "The way you care for him… for Ai too… It's what every mother prays for when they raise a son."
Then she giggled quietly and kissed him again, this time on the forehead, her lips warm and lingering.
"Sorry," she said, pulling away only slightly. "I just want to kiss your face forever."
"Mom, people are gonna think I'm your boyfriend at this rate," Shin muttered, flustered.
"Well, you are incredibly handsome," she teased, smirking. "It's not my fault I raised the perfect man."
"That's… way too much flattery."
"I'm allowed," she said simply. "I'm your mother."
Then she leaned forward and peppered his cheeks again, quick little kisses between every word: "My. Beautiful. Smart. Strong. Sweet. Baby. Boy."
Shin groaned. "You're not gonna stop, are you?"
"Nope," she beamed.
He laughed, then looked down at the still-sleeping Asahi. "He's gonna wake up covered in kisses too if you keep going."
"Don't tempt me," she warned. "I'll kiss him and you all over. Right on his squishy cheeks and your handsome face."
Shin shook his head, but he didn't move away.
His mother sighed, brushing back his bangs one last time. Then she simply held his face, her thumbs tracing his cheekbones.
"Promise me something else?" she asked gently.
"Hmm?"
"When you're older… when you've built your family… when you're tired or overwhelmed or maybe even broken… come back here. Let me hold you again. Let me remind you who you are."
He blinked. "I promise."
"Good," she whispered, leaning in one last time to kiss his cheek—this time not fast, not playful, but tender and deep, like she was sealing something sacred.
Then she leaned against him fully, sighing contently, her arms wrapped around his and her head on his shoulder.
"Let's just stay like this," she whispered.
"Yeah," Shin replied, voice low and full. "Let's."
And so they did.
No words, no movement. Just a son, a mother, a little brother sleeping between them—and the gentle heartbeat of a home that still remembered, still forgave, still loved with every breath.
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END OF CHAPTER : 139 : MUM'S LOVE FOR US!
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