Work Text:
"I'm heading out now," called Kaito from where he was lacing up his shoes in the doorway.
"All right, see you tonight." Her footsteps trailed to a stop. Still idly wiping her hands off in front of her, Meiko leaned against the wall to watch him go, fondness weaving its way through the subtle nuances in her expression.
Then she blinked, something coming to mind. "Before you go...you remembered to bring your lunch, didn't you?"
"Yeah, don't worry, I did."
"Okay. Just making sure."
He straightened to his full height with a grunt, pulling his bag up with him, and reached for the door. As he did so, Meiko murmured a quiet wait, and he glanced up just as she crossed the distance of the entryway and tugged him down by the arm to press a quick kiss against his cheek.
"Have a good day," she said.
He watched her, his mouth faintly parted, her face reflected in his eyes alongside some soft sort of adoration. Then he broke into a lopsided smile, inclining his head with a breathy noise of acknowledgement.
"I will," he said softly. "You too, okay?"
The car started up with a low rumble, and after a moment the heater came on, blasting warm air against his stiff fingers.
Kaito exhaled, leaning his head back against the headrest for a moment as he gathered himself. Then he shifted the gear into reverse and eased his foot onto the pedal.
It was now autumn, nearly winter, and mornings were bitterly cold. But as he pulled out of the driveway and the house grew smaller and smaller behind him, a small smile found its way onto his lips. Because despite the frigid November air, the skin of his cheek was still faintly warm.
"All right. You have your lunchboxes?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Last night's homework?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Your scarves and gloves? I know you don't think it's cold out, Rin, but you'll want them on you just in case, trust me."
"Yes, Mom."
"Well, then." Satisfied, Meiko stepped back and allowed them to run off and join their neighborhood friends, who were playing a game of something around the bus stop. A fond expression overtook her face. Seeing them in such good spirits made her happy, too.
Idly, she checked her phone. It was still early. Meiko often took care of the twins in the mornings, and Kaito, who got into and left work early, picked them up in the afternoons. She was so lucky to have him— no, they were lucky to have each other, because each of them could bear half the load, and together, they made things work.
The sound of hissing and puttering announced the arrival of the school bus, and its doors groaned in protest before springing open, allowing the horde of children to clamber aboard. "Bye, Mom!" called Rin as she disappeared into the opening, and Meiko smiled and waved in return.
The doors eased shut, and the engine whirred as the bus started to move. Quietly, Meiko scanned the windows, trying to make out the twins, and after several moments she finally spotted them through the tinted glass. They were waving down at her enthusiastically, their noses and ears flushed from cold, Rin's face pressed up against the window as Len tried desperately to force his way in from beneath her arm.
She waved back, bemused, and once the school bus was out of sight, she turned on her heel and started on her way home.
Kaito sighed, leaning back in his office chair and rolling out his shoulders and neck.
He lifted his head and blinked at the familiar buzzing of his phone, and, questioningly, he reached over to glance at it. Without realizing, he smiled when he saw the message was from Meiko. Just dropped off the twins, it read. Heading out now.
Smile still on his face, he sat forward in his chair, unlocking his phone to type out a response. Have a good day. I love you. Was that too direct? He wondered how she might react.
His part said, he set his phone down and waited, subconsciously holding his breath.
And then, after a brief pause, her response: Love you, too.
Meiko sighed into her palms, frustration mounting in her chest.
Without thinking, she began to run her hands through her hair. This report would be the death of her. How on earth was she meant to have it presentable by this afternoon?
A twinge of pain jolted her from her thoughts, and she winced, glancing up. A strand of hair had snagged around her wedding band, and hissing, she reached up with her free hand to free it. Then with a sigh, she lowered both hands back to her desk.
Absently, she ran her fingers along the warm, worn metal. The gentle ridges and grooves were familiar, and the sensation grounded her. She pursed her lips together.
She could do this. A slow inhale. She only had a little more to go.
With an exhale of relief, Kaito deposited himself in his chair.
He unwrapped his lunch, pulling out the Tupperware from within and lifting the lid. And inside of it was...
A sandwich. He gazed at it fondly. Meiko only resorted to making plain sandwiches when she was stressed—perhaps she had been busy at work as of late, then. He would have to make her something nice for dinner tonight to lift her mood.
Without missing a beat, he lifted the sandwich to his lips and bit into it, and even though the bread was cold against his teeth and the ingredients were a touch haphazard, he couldn't help but feel warm inside.
The shrill sound of her phone ringing tore Meiko from her thoughts.
She scowled on instinct, annoyed at the interruption, and nearly rejected the call and slammed her phone back down on instinct when she saw who exactly was calling.
It was Rin and Len's school. Her anger melted away, only to be replaced by confusion and a faint sense of worry. A crease formed between her eyebrows. More calmly now, she accepted the call and held her phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Hello. I'm calling about Rin?"
"Yes, I'm her mother," Meiko confirmed, her anxiety building.
"Well, we're sorry to tell you that your daughter Rin has a stomachache," the woman on the other end continued. "I was told it's probably because she, and I more or less quote, was dared to eat this flower growing near the playground by her brother." Meiko could practically see the woman's eyebrow raising in her mind's eye.
"Oh, no..." Dismayed, Meiko glanced down at her still-unfinished report, and then her eyes flickered back towards her phone. "Is she okay?"
"The nurse believes she'll be fine, but she'll be out of it for today. It might be best for her to go home and rest."
Meiko nodded. "I understand. I'm really sorry for the trouble. We'll be on our way to pick her up soon."
With that, she hung up, then dialed a familiar number with practiced ease. "Kaito," she said without preamble as he picked up, "I just got a call from the office. Rin has a stomachache."
A pause, followed by a pained hiss. "Poor girl," Kaito murmured, his voice pinched with sympathy.
"It sounds like it's because Len dared her to eat random plants. Can you believe them?" she huffed incredulously. "They're so ridiculous—I could swear we taught them better than that."
"I mean, we always knew they were impulsive. Maybe they take after you," Kaito quipped blandly, and she rolled her eyes.
"Kaito," Meiko said, getting to the point, "I'm sorry, but can you please go and pick them up for me? I need to get something in by the end of the day and I'm at the end of my rope." She massaged wearily at her temples. "Please?"
He made a confused sound. "Of course. What are you so worked up about? I don't mind at all." Kaito's voice was warm, and she couldn't help but relax at the low, familiar rumble that came through the phone receiver. "There's not too much longer in the school day, so I was going to head out in a bit anyways."
"Thanks." Meiko let out a relieved exhale. "You're a lifesaver, Kaito."
"Hey, no need for thanks." But he couldn't hide how impossibly pleased he sounded.
"I'll make it up at some point," she added, rubbing at her eyes.
"Don't worry about it."
"Okay, well...thanks anyway. Love you, Kaito."
"Love you too, Meiko. Good luck, and see you tonight."
"See you tonight."
The line went dead.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Kaito asked, making sure to lower his voice to avoid adding to her discomfort.
"Mm...no, I'm okay, I think. Thanks, Dad."
He watched Rin from the doorway for a moment longer, sympathy pooling in his gut. The poor girl. Her face was twisted in pain, her skin coated in sweat, and right then he wished he could steal away all her pain and take it for himself, if only to spare her this suffering.
"Then," he said, hesitantly, "I need to go and pick up your brother. Will you be fine for a bit on your own?"
She turned so her voice was muffled by her pillow. "Yeah, I think so."
He slipped her an apologetic smile, even if she couldn't see it from her angle. "Thank you, Rin. You're strong, you know that?" In that regard, she was just like her mother, he thought fondly to himself.
She didn't respond, clearly still wallowing in her misery, and he turned away to find where he'd left his phone, the door creaking as he shut it behind him. "Contact me if you need anything," he called, and then stepped away.
The handle rattled, and then with a sigh, Meiko stepped indoors.
Wearily, she toed off her shoes and deposited her bag on the ground. As she headed down the hallway, there was a rustling sound from the kitchen, followed by Kaito poking his head out, his eyes wide with surprise—and the familiar sight of his face was so comforting that she couldn't help the way the tension drained from her body.
"Meiko," he said, smiling hesitantly.
She inclined her head, having performed this song and dance before. "I'm home."
He watched her for a moment longer, studying her face, and, seeing the exhaustion etched into every fiber of her being, he stepped out fully, outstretching his arms in invitation.
"Welcome home?"
She saw his smile turn sheepish, and she stepped forward, crossing the length of the living room and closing the space between them in a few quick strides and melting into his chest as his arms wrapped around her shoulders and drew her closer against him. And as she pressed her face into the uneven strands of his hair, she at last registered the savory aroma of food wafting in from the kitchen, the warm glow of the living room lights, the soft sound of Len's footsteps against the flooring, and right, she remembered—she was home.