you can't remember your last kiss with nanami kento. no matter how much you try, you just can't.
was it this morning? when he woke you up, newborn daughter in-hand? no, that couldn't have been it. because, after, he kissed you again, chaste, as he moved past you to get to the dishwasher.
and then again, when he set your breakfast on the table. another time after, too. when he settled on the couch with you and his baby girl.
but was that the last one? or, was there more after?
you can't remember. in your defense, you didn't have a reason to keep track. there shouldn't have been. the second you told him you were pregnant, he dropped the world of jujutsu. it was over, or it should have been.
speaking of, your pregnancy, it wasn't ever anything you really wanted. it was something he did. kids. it was his dream, you're pretty sure, the whole white-picket-fence fantasy.
and you? you didn't care, not much. as long as you had nanami, you were okay with anything. besides, he'd been so happy when you broke the news. it's not like you guys had been actively trying, which is why you were surprised to see his reaction.
but again, for him, you'd do anything. what did it matter, anyways? it was just a kid, right? and he'd be there every step of the way, right?
it was another sunday, the three of you had been snuggled up in bed, just when he got the call.
"they want me to come in," he explained, softly.
"what?" you knew the answer.
"i won't go if you don't want me to. but, darling, i doubt they'd have called me in, if it hadn't been urgent."
you inhaled, watching him gently rock his daughter in his arms. "does- does that mean it's bad, then?"
"well, i'm sure it's nothing i can't handle," he informed you, paired with a soft smile.
"i don't know, na'mi. you said you weren't gonna go back." there was hesitance in your voice, one that trembled.
"honey, that's why i said it's up to you, okay?" nanami pressed his lips to your forehead.
if people really needed him, who were you to not let him go? what were you supposed to do? say no, let those people die? guilt gnawed at you. slowly, you nodded, looking up to meet his gaze.
so, you stood there at the door, watching him kiss his baby what should've been a temporary goodbye.
you can't remember if he kissed you goodbye, too. he probably did, but you can't remember.
"promise you'll come back to me?" you'd buried your face into the crook of his neck.
"of course, baby. i promise."
oh, god, and when they told you there wasn't even a body to recover?
you think that you would've followed him, had there not have been his baby stopping you.
kiss, kiss, kiss; why can't you remember? why?
the cries of his baby, the baby that yearns for her father, they are etched into your head. you can't get her to stop. you don't blame her. you can't stop, either.
you aren't her mother. she isn't your daughter.
she's nanami's, but he's gone.
the only thing he left you with is a child you never wanted, a living, breathing reminder of his absence, of his broken promise, of the kiss you can't remember — the kiss that might as well have never happened.
