Work Text:
“Do you ever wish that it was your dad that stayed home instead of me?”
The question sat sort of heavy, the sound of your voice slightly diluted by the rain on the house’s windows.
Kenta stared at you, one questioning eyebrow raised accompanied by two concerned narrowed eyes. He thought about it for a moment, then laughed.
“What kind of a question is that? Psh. No,” he responded, turning his attention back to the show on TV.
His blunt answer stunned you a little. “Not at all?” You asked. “You don’t miss him?”
“I mean, it’s not like I don’t miss him. But being here all the time instead of you?” He laughed more at the thought. “The only times it’s ever been just us two, we usually just end up missing you together anyway.”
“Oh?” You almost felt like blushing. “Really?”
“Dude, are you kidding? Dad is, like, a little pathetic without you sometimes. He always wonders what you’re doing and if you’re okay. Especially when Uncle is out too, it’s like he has nothing else to do but try to busy himself and talk to me. I think the only reason he doesn’t go insane working is because he has a bunch of stuff to do to keep his mind off it while he tells himself he’s coming back to all of us soon.”
“He’s so sweet,” you couldn’t help but sigh.
The man you chose to marry was a good one, you were certain. It just surprised you how soft he could be, even when you knew how he acted alone with you. To think that he cared so much about you that even Kenta could tell made you a bit emotional.
“He really does love me…”
“Yeah, of course he does. We all do,” Kenta responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You smiled, trying not to be obvious with how much this conversation was getting close to bringing you to tears. You mentally cursed the rain for making you feel so sensitive all of a sudden. “So then which of you loves me the most, huh?” You asked playfully, hoping for some banter a bit more easy on your heart.
Kenta put a fist to the lower half of his face in thought, a trait you wondered whether it was taken from your own habits. “Uh, me.”
“Really?” You teased. “You think you do? Out of everyone?” You laughed.
“Yeah. What does Dad have over me?”
“He married me.”
“So. I basically did too by choosing not to run away from here.”
“You’re acting like us raising you was your choice instead of ours?”
“I chose to let you.”
“Where else would you have gone?”
“Dunno. Somewhere far away.”
“So you think you don’t need us at all?”
“No,” Kenta huffed, turning to the side. “That’s not what I meant. But if you sucked real bad then I would’ve up and left by now. I mean you don’t and that’s why I—”
“So you do need us?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“So, wait, how does this mean that you love me more than your father?”
“… Because you’re my mom. And you’re lucky to be my mom.”
“I am. Although, usually someone in your position would say that you’re the one that’s lucky I am your mom?”
“Nah. We’re both lucky.”
“How come?”
“Because you’re my mom.”
You laughed, and it caused Kenta to smile as well. The feeling of bringing him joy only brought more to you, and the warmth spread to every part of you.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly.
“I am.” You kissed the side of his head, the softness of your lips reaching him through his hair. “And I love it so much. I really am the luckiest mom alive to have a son like you.”
Kenta held you back. “I’m luckier, though.”
“What? I thought you said I was?”
“Nuh uh. I just said you were lucky.”
“Then what makes you the luckiest?”
Kenta leaned in even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Having a mom like you.”