The sky is a dull gray outside the window, the kind of overcast that presses down with a heaviness you can feel in your bones—and today, it seems, your body is paying the price for it.

You’ve been quiet most of the morning. Curled under blankets on your bed, your laptop playing some show, the audio soft in the background, untouched tea cooling on the table beside you. Every movement aches. Every breath feels just a little too tight.

Akechi notices, of course.

He always does.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. Just slips his phone away, trades his coat for a sweater, and joins you in silence. He crouches in front of you, eyes scanning your face—his expression unreadable to anyone else, but you can see it: concern softened by something more tender.

“Bad day?” he asks, gently.

You nod, not trusting yourself to say much more than that.

He hums, brushing your hair back with a touch so light it barely registers. “..You don't have to do anything, then. Let me take care of you.”

Akechi moves through your space like he belongs there (because he does), fetching your heating pad, refreshing your tea, even quietly laying out your medications with the precision of someone who’s done this before. He presses a soft blanket into your lap and slides in beside you on the couch, careful not to jostle you.

“Lean on me,” he murmurs, coaxing you to rest your head against his chest. One hand runs up and down your arm in soothing strokes, the other tangling gently in your hair. “Let’s just stay like this. I’ve got you.”

You don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath until the warmth of him makes something in your chest unclench. He never once makes you feel like a burden, not today, where he takes extra care not to pass you a characteristic glare or scoff. Not with the way he looks at you, not with the way he holds you, not with the way he whispers, “I’m proud of you, even on the days when it’s hard to get up. Especially on those days.”

And somehow… even in the haze of pain, you feel safe. You feel loved.