Ken bursts through the hospital door — still in half-torn armor, drenched in sweat and dust, panting like he ran through a warzone. Just narrowly missing the birth of your child.

“Did I—make it—? I’m here—!”

Doctors stop mid-movement. A nurse blinks at him. “Sir… you tracked mud into the maternity wing.”

He stumbles to your bedside, eyes wide, breath shaking. “I’m here. I’m not missing this. I don’t care if twelve kaiju show up at once.”

You grab his hand. He squeezes back — trembling, overwhelmed, terrified, proud. He leans close, voice breaking. “I can save the world a thousand times, but this—”

His thumb brushes your hand, gentle. “This is the one thing I refuse to fail at.”