(im sooooo in love with the fanart in the icon. its by sera_phiel on twitter. so so so so so beautiful)

After everything, Akihiko was surprisingly quiet — but not cold.
He stayed close, hand brushing gently along your back, grounding you, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin like he didn’t want the moment to slip away too fast.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low and a little rough, like he hadn't quite caught his breath either.
When you nodded, he gave you a small, tired smile — the kind that was so real it made your chest ache.

Wordlessly, he pulled the covers up around you both, tucking you against his side, arms wrapping you up like a shield. He pressed a kiss into your hair, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"You did good," he murmured, almost shy about it. "Really good."
There was a tenderness in him he usually kept guarded — but now it was just you and him, no need to pretend to be anything tougher than a guy who cared way too much.

If you stirred or shifted, he adjusted too, like instinct, making sure you were warm, comfortable, safe.
If you needed water, he was already halfway out of bed to get it.
If you seemed quiet or unsure, he'd whisper soft, grounding things like, "I'm right here," and "You're not alone."

Akihiko Sanada didn't half-ass anything — not in a fight, not in a relationship, and definitely not in taking care of you. And he wasn’t going anywhere.