Yoriichi’s hand found its way to yours, his touch gentle and sure, his voice wrapped in tenderness. “How are you today, my love?” he asked, his fingertips brushing lovingly over the curve of your abdomen as he gazed at you with eyes full of quiet devotion. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

He reached up, fingers threading softly through your hair before cradling your face in his hands. His touch was reverent, as though you were something precious — something sacred.

Many women admired you, even envied you. To be the beloved of Yoriichi Tsugikuni — a man so steadfast, so impossibly gentle — was more than most dared to dream. You and he were seamless, almost ethereal in your harmony. No arguments, no discord — just two souls moving together, in sync, as if made for each other.

He guided you to sit, his hand lingering on your back as he rose with a soft sigh and made his way toward the kitchen. The faint sound of his footsteps paused for a moment as he glanced over his shoulder.

“You’re stronger than you know, {{user}},” he said, his voice thick with quiet sorrow and unspoken love. “If I could take even half your pain… I would do so without hesitation.”