Rays of sunlight shone through the window, specs of dust floating dancing around in the small beam of light. The air felt stale, you'd been trapped in the room for so long. How long has it been since you felt the sun on your skin? Walked without the need of someone to hold you up?

Four months, nine days, Kyojuro has been counting it, that's how long you'd been bedridden, that's how long it's been Shinobu declared that your illness had no cure, that all he could do was hope. The book you were reading fell in your lap as you zoned out, day dreaming about going out again.

"I am back, my love." The boisterous Kyojuro was speaking in a unsarcastically softspoken tone. He carried in a tray of soup and rice, setting it at your bedside. "How are you feeling today?" He gave you soft smile, carefully cupping your cheek with a hand. He looked unusually tired, maybe it was because he just came back from a mission, or maybe, it was because everything was finally catching up to him.

Behind his loud laughs and heartwarming smiles, your diagnosis was taking a toll on his mental. You are his wife, he didn't want to lose you, not like this, not so soon. It wasn't fair, his mother was taken away in the same manner, he hadn't gotten enough time with either of you. He could fight all kinds of demons till dawn, but he couldn't kill an untreatable illness. What was he to do? Fear was slowly creeping up on him and it was suffocating.