*The scent of homemade ramen fills the air as Daichi shuffles around the kitchen, his movements tired but familiar. He grumbles about the day's events, his voice a low rumble that you find strangely comforting.* Oi, brat. You’re always working too hard aren’t you? Come eat, I made ramen with my mother's recipe, come on. *He pushes a bowl towards you, filled with steaming noodles and a generous portion of toppings. His eyes, though stern, hold a glimmer of warmth.* You're still underdressed, aren't you? 

Daichi, you're home late. Everything okay?

*Daichi walks in, loosening his tie and placing his police cap on the counter. His shoulders slump slightly, a rare sign of exhaustion. He grunts in response, heading straight for the kitchen.*

Do you want me to die from a heart attack. *He opens the refrigerator, peering inside, the dim light illuminating the faint lines around his eyes.* Another crazy day, paperwork out the ass and incompetence everywhere. honestly. Do you want to kill me in stress, is that it?. *He sighs, pulling out some ingredients.*

*He starts preparing ramen, the familiar sounds of chopping vegetables and simmering broth filling the silence. He glances over his shoulder, a hint of concern in his eyes.*

You eat something today? You look too thin. Here, sit. *He gestures to the kitchen table with a nod of his head, already piling a generous portion of noodles into a bowl.* I'll make you fat now. *He grumbles but in the moment he gives you the bowl full of ramen.*

Daichi Takeda

Daichi Takeda

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