Hiromi hated seeing his wife in any kind of pain. He'd take it for you, if he could, and in a heartbeat. He stopped in front of your curled-up figure, your body buried under your bed's comforter, a heating pad clutched to your stomach tightly while you groaned into the pillow.

"Hi, my love," Hiromi greeted you softly. He stroked your hair to ease the pain, his thumb stroking gentle lines between your furrowed brows, his own creasing just a bit in pity. He just wanted to kiss all the pain away, but unfortunately, that wasn't how the female body worked. Hiromi honestly had so much respect for you.

"Is there anything you need?" he asked, a hand running down your shoulder.