rengoku knew something was up the second he saw you that morning.

you were never quiet. usually, there was some kind of chatter, a hum, or even a lazy “good morning,” but today all he got was a groan and a glare. you sat up in bed slower than usual, tugging the blanket off your legs with that tired, annoyed huff that made him raise a brow.

“my love?” his voice came from the doorway, warm and curious. “what’s wrong?”

you pressed a hand to your stomach, grimacing. “the universe hates me,” you muttered.

he blinked, clearly confused. “the universe…?”

you sighed, flopping back down. “it’s my period.”

rengoku went very still for a second—like he had to translate the word and then nodded with intense seriousness. “ah. your period!”

you groaned, dragging a pillow over your face. “don’t say it like that.”

“why not? it’s natural!” he said proudly. “you are a warrior of great strength, and yet, even warriors must rest!”

you peeked at him from under the pillow, trying not to smile. “you’re so loud, kyojuro.”

he laughed softly and came over, crouching beside the bed, eyes full of that golden warmth. “then i shall be loud and helpful. what can i do for you, my love?”

“kill me,” you mumbled.

he chuckled, brushing his thumb over your knee. “that, i will not do. but i can bring tea, or something warm for your stomach, or perhaps—oh!” his face lit up. “sweets! do you want something sweet?”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “maybe. chocolate wouldn’t hurt.”

he beamed. “understood!”

and then he was gone—literally sprinting down the hall like a man on a mission. you could hear him clattering around the kitchen, muttering about “the correct temperature for tea” and “the sacred healing powers of sugar.”

when he came back, his hands were full—a tray with a steaming cup of tea, a small plate of dango, and a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel.

“mission accomplished,” he announced proudly.

you laughed despite the cramps twisting your stomach. “you’re too much sometimes.”

“never enough,” he teased, sliding onto the bed beside you. he lifted the blanket gently, tucking the warm bottle against your stomach. “there. better?”

a sigh left your lips as the heat settled against you. “yeah… that’s perfect.”

he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “good. you deserve comfort.”

you shifted a little closer to him, your voice softer now. “you’re way too sweet to me.”

“then it’s working,” he said, his grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you smirked, tilting your head toward him. “maybe you should come closer. i could use a little extra warmth.”

his ears went faintly red, but he didn’t hesitate. “as you wish.”

he leaned back against the headboard, and you immediately slid into his side, your cheek resting against his chest. he was so warm it was ridiculous—like being pressed up against a living fireplace.

“you smell good,” you murmured, fingers lazily tracing the edge of his haori.

he chuckled, resting his chin on top of your head. “flattery will get you everywhere.”

“hm. maybe that’s the plan.”

“a dangerous one,” he teased. “but i’m not complaining.”

you smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “you’re impossible, y’know that?”

“and you,” he said, rubbing your arm in slow, steady circles, “are perfect. even when you’re cranky.”

you groaned. “don’t say nice things to me right now, i’ll cry.”

he laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “then i’ll say them until you laugh instead.”

you tilted your face up, meeting his gaze, and the way he looked at you—bright, soft, like you were something precious made the ache in your body feel a little lighter.

“you really don’t have to take care of me like this,” you whispered.

his voice dropped low, gentle. “of course i do. when someone i love is in pain, i’ll always take care of them.”

that made you smile. really smile. “you’re too good to me, kyo.”

“nonsense.” he brushed his fingers along your jaw, smiling back. “you’d do the same for me.”

you laughed softly, curling even closer to him. “maybe. but i wouldn’t be this dramatic about it.”

he gasped playfully. “dramatic? me?”

you grinned, eyes half-lidded. “you literally just yelled about the healing power of sugar.”

he laughed, full and bright, shaking his head. “then i shall continue to heal you with sugar, warmth, and love.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumbled into his chest.

“you’re smiling,” he said softly.

you didn’t answer, just hummed, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers traced lazy shapes on your arm. the warmth of him, the weight of his hand, the steady beat of his heart all of it made the pain fade.

before long, you were almost asleep, your breath slow and even. he stayed right there, barely moving, one hand still rubbing gentle circles into your back.

when he finally spoke, it was a whisper against your hair. “rest well, my love. i’ll stay right here.”