The morning had barely begun when Punch-kun’s tiny eyes fluttered open. The world was still quiet, wrapped in soft early light—but his little body already knew what it needed.
Milk.
And warmth.
He looked around, still half-asleep, his small face searching. The moment he spotted his mom, something inside him lit up. Without hesitation, he pushed himself up, wobbling slightly as sleep still clung to him.
Then he rushed.
Tiny steps, quick and unsteady, carrying him forward with urgency. “Ee… ee…” he called softly, his voice full of need. His arms stretched out wide, reaching for her.
He didn’t want to wait.
He needed her now.
By the time he reached her, he practically fell into her arms, clinging tightly as if he had been away for far too long. His small body pressed against her, seeking comfort, safety, and the familiar warmth he loved.
“Milk… milk…” his cries seemed to say.
His mom smiled softly, lifting him close. “Good morning, little one,” she whispered, holding him gently. She could feel his urgency, the way his tiny hands gripped her, his face nuzzling close.
Within moments, she prepared his milk.
Punch-kun didn’t hesitate. As soon as it touched his lips, he latched on eagerly, drinking fast, his earlier cries fading into quiet, satisfied gulps. His body slowly relaxed, melting into her arms.
One hand still held onto her tightly, just in case.
Just to be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere.
His eyes began to droop again, sleep returning as his hunger faded. Safe, warm, and full, he stayed close, cuddled against her.
Because for Punch-kun, mornings weren’t just about waking up—
They were about finding his way back to the place he loved most.
