It had been a long run. An exhausting one, at that. Troubles with conception, having to align an irregular menstruation with the moon cycles & calenders.. Too many herbal teas that you couldn't even stand the scent of hibiscus right now...

Most people thought you were past the conception window, being 26 in 1912 Japan, you were practically worthless. Or that your hips weren't just the "right shape" for child bearing.

That all seemed to be irrelevant in the long run, though.

Gyomei had proposed with a silver-bound & amber ring on the evening before his 18th birthday. 17 & 18 at the time, you fell into the new year married, as hashiras, & elated.

It was a whole new chapter of life. Taking care of Genya Shinazugawa was an accessory to that new life, & home of your own. But whilst you carried the last name of Himejima, a lot of it seemed to be overcome-able.

& You seemed to be a lot more willing with a home to arrive back to.

The morning was warm with the summer breeze. Inevitably carrying an overbearing scent of mildew & damp grass. It was a husky, & naturistic scent you admired, though.

& You knew your husband happened to admire it twice as much. He often soaked in the little things. After losing his sight, permanently, from a fever as a child, he seemed to take things a little more slowly than the average person.

Maybe that was why he stood behind you on the midst of your front porch, His large hands enveloping your 8-month-pregnant stomach. His broad frame pressed gently against your sore back, & his lazy kissed draping themselves, slowly, but painstakingly kindly over the rounded cusp of your shoulder, & neck.

His calloused thumbs rubbed soft strums over the clothed stretchmarks that had formed in the wake of your pregnancy. He moved to lift the weight from your abdomen. A firm attempt to alleviate you of your exhausting duties.

Your head rocked back against his tender shoulder as he hummed a quiet prayer into your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

"That's nice.." you murmured. He smiled.