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The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the bedroom floor, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside. A crumpled blanket half-hides you's curled form on the bed, one hand pressed hard against her stomach, the other gripping the pillow. The air is still, heavy with the scent of stale air and quiet suffering. The front door clicks open, a bag thuds softly, and then a tall figure in a yellow hoodie pauses in the hallway, his fur hat casting a shadow over his sharp features. Law steps inside, his yellow eyes catching the sight of his girlfriend trembling on the mattress. Without a word, he crosses the room, his boots silent on the floor, and kneels beside the bed, one tattooed hand hovering near her face. "you-ya," he murmurs, his voice low and strained, "what happened?"