In the gentle stillness of early morning, you settled into the car's backseat. Beside you, a bouquet of your favorite flowers rested, their colors soothing to the eyes. Nestled among the blooms was a card from Chuuya and your son, its words adding a touch to the quiet scene. The soft fragrance of the flowers filled the air, blending with the hush of morning.

As the driver deftly maneuvered through the twisted streets, your body shifted gently with each turn, leaning right when the car veered left and vice versa. Seeking solace, you let your head rest against the plush headrest.

The sleek black car, a symbol of untouchable power, moved with a smooth, almost imperceptible grace through the morning mist. The city blurred into a gentle blend of gray and gold, as the morning light kissed the streets, making them glisten like a scattering of stars.

In the front seat, the driver clung to the organization's unspoken rule, their silence, and unspoken respect for the hierarchy: "Do not speak to executives unless spoken to." The stillness inside the car was punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine, each quiet moment a reminder of the world beyond the window, where power and protocol intertwined in a delicate dance.

Your foot tapped in sync with the rhythm pulsing through your headphones, a futile attempt against the growing wave of impatience and boredom. The music's beat tried to soothe the restlessness simmering beneath your calm exterior, but the minutes felt heavy and endless. Each moment stretches longer than the last. And, your heart raced, fluttering in your chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom.

Your hand rested anxiously on the door handle, with fingers against the cold metal. You leaned forward, each turn of the car amplifying your anticipation. You longed for the moment when the car would finally come to a halt, so you could swing open the door and escape into the fresh air. Every stoplight, every turn, seemed to stretch out in slow motion, as you waited, breath held, for the instant when you could burst free and leave the confines of the vehicle behind.

As the car glided steadily through the city's shifting panorama, you leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence with a question. "How much longer?"

"I'd say about three minutes." The driver, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, briefly met your eyes in the rearview mirror before returning to the task of navigating the winding streets. A faint sigh escaped your lips, barely audible over the hum of the engine. The driver, catching your unspoken impatience, adjusted his grip on the wheel and pressed a bit more firmly on the gas. "We should be there in just a minute."

With a practiced flick, you gently removed your headphones, the soft fabric sliding away from your ears. The immersive symphony of music, which had been your partner during the ride, began to dissipate. The final notes lingered a moment longer, a faint echo that slowly faded into the backdrop of your surroundings.

"When you drop me off," you said, leaning slightly forward, your gaze fixed on the driver's reflection in the rearview mirror, "please make sure my belongings are dispatched to my house."

He nodded, his hands steady on the wheel. "Of course," he replied, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'll ensure someone takes care of it promptly. You can count on it."

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four.

You gently reached for the door handle, your fingers curling around it with a tentative grip. You pulled it slowly, just enough to feel the latch give slightly, but you held back from swinging it open.

Three, two, one.

The car came to a smooth halt, the finality of the stop breaking the silence. Without a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door and leaped out, driven by a sudden burst of motion. In your rush, you left the door ajar, the breeze softly pushing it as you moved swiftly away.

You strolled down the busy morning street, each step carrying you closer to your destination. The air was crisp and refreshing, carrying hints of freshly cut grass. The gentle sound of the city was a soft backdrop to your journey, as sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting playful patterns on the pavement.

As you approached "Cat–astrophe," the café's quaint sign came into view, hanging invitingly above the entrance. The soft glow from inside peeked through the large windows, offering a warm promise of respite. You quickened your pace, drawn by the sight.

The door creaked open as you reached it, and a gentle chime rang out, signaling your arrival.

You step into the cozy cat café that seemed to embrace you with warmth. The comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the subtle, soothing aroma of catnip. The gentle murmur of conversations and the contented purring of felines created a serene atmosphere,

You took in the scene: light, wooden floors gleamed under your feet, and soft, ambient light filtered through thin curtains, casting a gentle ray over the space. Cats lounged gracefully on plush cushions, their tails flicking lazily as they napped or watched curiously.

As you strolled further inside, you passed by scattered tables adorned with whimsical cat-themed décor, each one hosting consumers sipping coffee and interacting with the café's feline residents. The gentle mutter of chatters and the purring of the cats blended, inviting you to sink into the café's tranquil embrace.

You moved with purpose, searching for the familiar faces of your two favorite people. Your eyes darted from one table to the next, watching as people chatted and cats lounged in sunny patches.

By the window, where sunlight filtered through the glass, they were nestled together. Their attention was completely absorbed by a group of small kittens, their hands reaching out to play and their faces alight with joy. The sight brought a smile to your lips, and you made your way over, eager to join in the heartwarming scene.

You positioned yourself just behind them, the sunlight spilling around you in a warm halo. With a deep breath, you prepared for your surprise. In one swift, loving motion, you enveloped them both in a hug, your arms wrapping around them tightly. The unexpected embrace was both heartfelt and overwhelming, causing them to gasp in delight as the air seemed to momentarily escape their lungs.

"Mom, you're—back!" he said, his voice catching in a breathless burst of surprise. His hands tapped your arm repeatedly, a playful plea for you to ease your hold.

The sudden burst of laughter and excitement startled the kittens, sending them scurrying across the café floor. In the flurry of movement, one tiny kitten tumbled clumsily, landing softly on its head with a surprised little meow before quickly righting itself. 

It peeked out, its eyes wide with curiosity. The playful spirit of the other kittens also returned, and soon they were back, their tiny paws padding over to you, unable to hold a grudge against you.

Chuuya skillfully used his ability to gracefully escape your hug, slipping out with ease. He freed himself, leaving only the young boy behind, who remained amid the lingering embrace. The boy's eyes, wide with a blend of confusion and hurt, followed Chuuya's retreating figure.

"Deal with it, kid," Chuuya said with a knowing smirk. "You know that if you don't let her hug you now, she'll seize every chance she gets to hug you later."

"I'll remember this," your son said, his voice cutting through the air with a cold edge. The words were deliberate, each syllable carrying a weight of unspoken resolve. The promise of Chuuya's future doom was clear in his steely gaze.

"C'mon, [Y/n], let him go. It's only been two days, for fuck's sake," Chuuya said with a hint of exasperation.

You turned to him with an impassive expression, your eyes conveying a clear message: you had zero fuck to give. Your stance, unmoved by his words, spoke volumes about your resolve to hold on, unbothered by the passage of time or his frustration.

You sank into the soft seat, your child nuzzled on your lap. Your arms encircled him in a warm, unyielding hug. Despite his attempts to wriggle free, you held your embrace firm, showing no sign of giving up. The comfort and determination in your hold eventually made him give in. His resistance faded as he settled into the embrace, accepting the affection with a resigned smile.

Chuuya settled into the booth on the opposite side of the table, his posture relaxed as he leaned back against the cushioned seat. He watched the scene unfold with a mix of curiosity and amusement, his arms resting casually on the back of the booth.

Your son, at seven years old, had a presence that spoke of both youthful curiosity and a touch of mischief. His wavy hair, like the rich hue of autumn leaves, cascaded unevenly around his neck, a testament to the days of neglect during your absence. Each lock had a natural, sunlit sheen, catching light with a warm, golden tint. 

His eyes, mirroring your own [e/c], were large and expressive, framed by long lashes that accentuated their depth. They held a glimmer of both wonder and resilience, revealing a soul keenly perceptive and sensitive.

 "Chuuya," you said, your tone carrying an edge of frustration, "we need to talk about your son's hair."

Chuuya looked up, slightly taken aback, and followed your gaze to your son, who was still perched on your lap. The boy's hair, with its natural curls, was in desperate need of some care.

"It's been two days," you continued, your voice steady but firm. "Look at his hair—it's a mess. Curly hair needs special attention to keep it healthy and manageable. Right now, it's clear that it wasn't properly cared for."

Chuuya's expression shifted from surprise to a hint of guilt. He shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his own neatly styled hair. "I didn't realize it had gotten so bad," he said, his tone apologetic.

Your gaze softened slightly, but your tone remained unwavering. "It's not just about appearance. It's about making sure he feels cared for."

As you and Chuuya continued your conversation, your son, feeling the tension, quietly reached for his phone. He turned it on and began scrolling through his games, his focus drifting into the screen's blue light. The familiar beeps and clicks of his game soon filled his ears, effectively drowning out the conversation.

He sat still, engrossed in the virtual world, his small fingers tapping away as he tuned out the discussion between you and Chuuya. The light from the phone illuminated his face, casting a soft glow that shielded him from the emotional undertones of the moment.

Chuuya nodded in agreement, his expression softening as he acknowledged your concerns. "You're right. I'll make sure he gets a proper haircut  tomorrow."

You offered a nod of appreciation, feeling a sense of relief. "Thank you, Chuuya. I appreciate it."

Your son's [e/c] eyes sparkled with curiosity as he gazed out the window. After a moment, he set his phone aside, its game sounds fading into silence. He pointed his index finger toward the building across the street. "What's up there?" he asked, his voice filled with innocent wonder.

Chuuya and you turned to follow his gaze. When you both realized he was pointing at the imposing structure of the Armed Detective Agency, an unspoken understanding passed between you. You exchanged a look of mutual annoyance, the recognition of the agency's presence evoking a shared emotion. 

You glanced at the building your son was pointing to, the words slipping out before you could fully filter them. "That's where those shitty detectives work," you said, a hint of irritation in your voice.

Your son tilted his head, his eyes widening slightly. "I think detectives are cool," he replied, his voice filled with earnest admiration.

Hearing that, Chuuya's mouth opened, his nose scrunched in disgust. "We're disowning him."

You quickly raised your foot and gave Chuuya a sharp kick under the table. He barely managed to stifle a groan, the sudden jolt having caught him off guard. The sharp heel of your shoe had made its point, delivering a sting that left no room for doubting your displeasure.

"I'll disown your ass if you ever say something like that again," you said firmly.

Chuuya, wincing slightly from the sharp kick, met your gaze with a surrendered nod. "Noted."