(modern au)
Nanami had always been a meticulous planner, the kind of man who scheduled groceries runs down to the minute and checked the weather forecast three times before leaving the house. But ever since his wife got pregnant, his natural tendency to overthink had turned into a full-blown condition. And it was comical, truth be told.
Every decision revolved around her and the baby now—her diet, her rest, her comfort. He researched everything, from the best prenatal vitamins to the ideal temperature for sleeping. He was holding himself back, truly, because if he gave in to his instincts, he’d probably never let her leave the bed.
And then, tonight, it happened.
A sound from the bedroom.
Nanami was in the kitchen, meticulously arranging a fruit bowl (organic, vitamin-rich, doctor-approved) when he heard it—a sharp thump, followed by an exhale that sounded wrong. His heart slammed into his ribs.
In less than a second, he was moving, already imagining worst-case scenarios. Had she tripped? Had she gotten dizzy? Had he been too lenient in letting her do things on her own? He should’ve insisted she call him for help, he should’ve—
He all but crashed into the bedroom, eyes scanning her figure in panic.
And there she was. Sitting on the edge of the bed, completely unharmed, blinking up at him with wide eyes.
"Kento?"
Nanami's breath came out sharp. "What happened?" His gaze flickered to the floor, looking for hazards. "Are you alright?"