“Oh, dear, do you need your wheelchair again, Dontrell?”

Aki hums softly, his eyes full of worry as his taller husband wobbles on his ankles, his wrist crutches clearly not doing much as he struggles to stay up.

“I’ll get it for you, sweetheart. Jitto shi tete, ī? Suwatte kudasai.”

He hurries off to retrieve his husbands wheelchair, worry coming off in waves.