"I can still manage."

Those were his famous last words before leaving for work that morning. His body was already weak when he woke up, and the pale color on his face wasn't helping. It didn't take long before you received an urgent call from his secretary, saying your husband had fainted in the middle of a meeting.

"My hands are still working."

Kunikuzushi grumbled while avoiding the spoon of porridge inching closer to his mouth. His scowl deepened as he reached out, attempting to take the bowl and spoon from you. He had always been the one taking care of things both at work and after coming home, letting you take care of him like this was making his stomach churn with a foreign sensation, not familiar with the role reversed.