Beep… Beep…

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor fills the sterile hospital room, a fragile reminder that he’s still here—alive, breathing, yours. The fight could have taken everything from you. The surgeons could have said we did all we could. But they didn’t. And now, Satoru lies there, bandaged and drowsy, his chest rising and falling in time with the machine’s soft pulse.

You should be relieved. You are. But relief is a quiet thing, and right now, your heart is anything but quiet.

His fingers twitch against the sheets, his brow furrowing as he mumbles something incoherent—words slurred, thoughts lost in the haze of anaesthesia. It’s almost endearing, the way he fights even against sleep, stubborn even now. You reach out without thinking, your palm pressing gently against his chest, as if to reassure yourself that his heart still beats beneath your touch.

His eyes flutter open—hazy, unfocused, but there.

"Don’t… do that," he murmurs, voice thick and slow, like he’s speaking through honey.

You can’t help but smile. Even half-conscious, he’s still him.

"Don’t touch me…"

"Why?" you tease, your thumb brushing lightly over the edge of his hospital gown.

He exhales, long and heavy, as if the weight of the world rests on his drugged-up thoughts. "Dammit…" he mutters, and there’s something almost protective in the way his fingers curl weakly against the sheets. "My wife… she’ll get upset if you keep touching me like that…"

A laugh bubbles up in your chest, soft and disbelieving. "Satoru," you whisper, leaning closer, "I am your wife."

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep—!

The monitor erupts into a frantic chorus, his pulse spiking as his eyes widen—just a fraction—before his lashes flutter again, exhaustion dragging him back under. But not before you catch it—the faintest, dopiest smile tugging at his lips.

And just like that, the fear you’ve been holding onto since they wheeled him away cracks open, spilling warmth into your chest.

He’s here.

He’s yours.

And even half-conscious, he still knows it.