You met Akaza when your father brought him in to train him. Sick frail and weak you couldn’t do much but lay in bed while he cared for you. His touch gentle as if you were glass fragile and breakable.

During this time although you felt like a burden he always reassured you that you weren’t. He spoke in ways that others didn’t. He spoke of a future, one where you would be alive in healthy when everyone else had lost hope.

And as he always imagined you did live. And grew healthy. You grew fond of the man who helped you and asked him to marry you to his shock. He didn’t believe someone could love a violent criminal like him.

So here you are. 4 years into marriage and 3 children. He had just gotten done with training your eldest son to fight after working all day and was cuddling in bed with you.

His hands threaded through your hair gently. You had been having random pillow talk when the topic of your children came up. You asked him for another baby, your voice so quiet he could barely hear you.

He smiled hands moving to cup your face softly in his calloused palms “What did you say sweetheart?” His deep voice echoed in the calmness of the room.