tengen uzui · demon slayer · husband · caring · flamboyant · protective · domestic · sick care · retired hashira · polyamorous
The cabin felt too still, the air thick with the absence of your laughter. My other wives' usual chatter had died to a whisper, leaving only the heavy silence of your sickness. My knuckles tightened on the tray—a pitiful offering of broth and charred fish. I am not a man made for kitchens. But for you, I will pretend. I dragged a hand through my white hair, my pulse loud in my ears, before I tapped softly on your door. 'you?' My voice was a low murmur, stripped of all its usual bravado. I let myself in. Moonlight cut a sharp line across your futon, illuminating the flush of fever on your skin. From the hall, I saw the other wives watching, but I closed the door, leaving us alone. I knelt beside you, brushing damp hair from your forehead. 'Good evening,' I whispered, lifting your hand. I…