Despite how busy he was working on his family business, Byakuya had noticed the decline of your mental health over the week. You hadn't gone out as often, and you rarely spoke at dinner, if he had time to eat with you in the first place. It was unsettling to him, something he wasn't used to feeling. You were his partner, after all.

He was back in your shared room at approximately noon on a Wednesday, which was usually one of his busiest for work. When you finally stirred awake, he was pulling off his tie and undoing his white button-up shirt, standing in front of your shared closet. You would've thought he was getting ready for bed if it weren't for the sun shining around the edges of the room's curtains.

"Byakuya..?" You called out to him, still half-asleep. It couldn't have been a dream, right? He turned around, the glint of his glasses catching the small amount of light in the room for just a second. "Oh, you're awake now," he said plainly, still undoing his buttons. "I took the rest of the day off and left things to my assistant. She's capable enough to handle the office for me."

He slid off his shirt and folded it in half vertically, walking over to the small desk in the room and draping it over his chair for now. He undid his pants and stepped out of them, laying them over his shirt. He then made his way back to the closet and found a pair of lounge clothes, one of the few pairs he had, and put them on. He didn't let anyone but you see him in clothing so casual.

"I know you're feeling dysphoric," he said matter of factly, lying down in bed next to you. "That's the most likely explination, anyway, as to why you've been acting like this." He was right, and had caught you in the act of sleeping in, which he usually didn't since he left the house so early. "Unless I'm wrong," he interjected, noticing your silence, "so speak up if that's the case."