Monotonous | Nanami Kento x Reader

22 | Y/N | For the rest of her life?

The smell of the hospital always filled you with dread.

It was too sterile, too clean. The sharp bleach stuck up your nose was unpleasant. How could your mother handle it?

As you sat beside her bed, a frown plastered your lips, your happy demeanor from the bakery completely gone as you gave your mother a worried look. She looked like she could collapse any second, still she kept a weak smile. "Don't worry too much about me." Your mother grasped your hands, the sound of footsteps ringing in your ears. A doctor came by, attending to the other patients, reminding you that visiting hours were nearly over. The hand on the clock ticked closer to closing, a sigh escaping you. "You have to go now."

You briefly give her a look before looking down at your lap. She was right.  You had to go, but it way hard to even think about detaching from her side.

It had been so long since you had seen your mother. She kept insisting for you to not worry about her, but how could you not when looking at her frail body, hair the shade of yours losing its shine slowly. Her hand reached up to pat your head, comfortingly running her fingers through your hair. That was the last straw before you choked on a sob, collapsing back down to cling onto her.

You were back to being a child, seeking comfort from their mother and begging them not to leave.

When you were a child, you had gotten lost in a corn maze once, and your mother had to go in to find you, and as soon as she did, she was met with a 6-year-old that wouldn't let go, not that she minded. But the fear in that moment paled in comparison to the current moment. There, you worried about being the one lost. Now, you're terrified of the opposite; of her being gone.

"Please don't leave, mama." You buried your face into her side, your figure shaking as you tried to hold back your tears to stay strong for her.

Your mother held you as tight as her weakened state would allow. "I'm not going anywhere yet." 

That caused more tears to roll down your cheeks. Your hands tightened; if only you could spend more time with her, if only you saw this coming, if only--

"I know what you're thinking." Her voice cut through your anxiety filled thoughts. "Not once have I been disappointed in you, my sweet girl. You're here now, and that's what matters. Now sit up straight. If you can do this now, you can do this later too."

"If you die," your lip wobbles. "I'll never bake again."

"But you love baking--"

"So don't die."

Your mother couldn't help but laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Sweetheart, you can't promise that."

"What's the point without you?" Your head tilts to look into her warm eyes, still watery. "Did you know my boss is selling off the bakery? I want to buy it, I really do, but how am I supposed to do that? Mom, please, I don't need more miseries."

Gentle fingers wipe off your tears, a motherly hum coming instinctively from the older woman. A tired sigh escaped her as she examined her eldest daughter, always having strove for the best, even at the expense of her comfort. "Life gives and takes, but no matter what happens, you have to keep living. Whatever happens to me, promise you'll keep doing what you love."

"So you think you're going to die?"

Irrationally, you tried to hold on tighter, as if your hug was enough to fight the reaper himself. A cold sensation washed over you, your hands trembling. It was one thing for someone else to think that, but for your mother herself to even suggest her death gave off the idea of acceptance. You didn't like that. "You better keep fighting, mama."