#[SOBS JIROOOO YOU'RE SO SWEET MOM LOVES HER DEAR LIL ATHLETE SO MUCH...]

[pyonpyonpyon]

@mddlbro​

Jiro had trouble remembering a time they celebrated Mother’s Day as a family before Musuu’s departure. He knew for a fact they did celebrate because they have pictures as proof in the family album. But he just couldn’t recall the memories of it, or most of his memories regarding Musuu for that matter. It was all one muddy memory to the teen. Only being able to make out bits and pieces of their time together..

He couldn’t count how many times he’d make-believe his mother walking into their home as if nothing happened; embracing her sons loving like she had before. Oddly enough that was somewhat exactly how it played out. But never mind the hows. Jiro now had his mother back in his life and would take any opportunity he had to show her that he loved her just as much now as he did before.

“H-Hey! I’m home! ..Sorry about the wait. Niichan asked me to pick up some groceries from the market and, uh.. saw these on my way back..” Jiro calls out as he closes the door behind him, switching his shoes out for his slippers at the front of the entrance. Once that’s done he’s back to picking up the groceries bags he bought with one hand and the other he has tucked behind him suspiciously. He’s embarrassed, it’s evident by the way his voice wavers. “Hi, mom. T-These are for you..” he reveals what’s behind his other hand, offering forward a bouquet of multicolored flowers and roses to his mother. “I, uh, didn’t know which flowers you like.. So I chose a mix bouquet.. I hope that’s okay. Happy Mother’s Day, mom.” He gives a small and somewhat bashful smile. It’s genuine and full of love nonetheless.

“Oh, welcome home!” Musuu smiles, looking up from her notebook. Designs upon designs lay scrawled across the pages, but she closes it and sets it aside as Jiro walks in. Between working when she didn’t have to and her beloved son, it’s obvious which option she’d pick.

Her eyes widen when she sees the flowers--not that she’s forgotten what day it is, but because she hadn’t been expecting any sort of gift after a childhood’s length of absence.

“Thank you.” She breathes out, eyes a little wet as she steps forward to accept the flowers. With the bouquet in one hand, she takes Jiro’s free hand in her other and leads him further into the apartment. “I’ll treasure them.”

She’ll need to find a vase later. But first... “How about I help you put the groceries away? And...” The family favorite, she knows, is... “... Would you mind helping me make curry for dinner?”