Chapter 188: A Little Longer
The moment we stepped out of the cake shop, the sun had already reached its peak, blazing over the quiet streets. Yet, since it was winter, the air still bit cold against my skin despite the sunlight.
A gentle breeze brushed across my face — soft, but not enough to ease the dull, throbbing pain in my abdomen.
The supermarket wasn’t far — maybe a ten-minute walk at most — yet every step sent a faint pulse through the wound beneath my bandage. Still, I didn’t say anything. The last thing I wanted was to make Keiko worry again.
“It’s just a little longer…” I mumbled under my breath, pressing my palm subtly against my side.
Keiko walked ahead, humming lightly, completely unaware that her husband was currently having a one-on-one duel with pain. Her hair bounced with each step, and she looked so carefree that I almost smiled despite the discomfort.
Inside the supermarket, the bright lights and chatter of customers felt almost overwhelming after days in the hospital. Keiko moved with purpose — milk, eggs, vegetables, Rin’s favorite snacks — while I trailed behind with the cart, forcing myself to stay upright.
“You okay?” she asked once, glancing at me.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Just a bit tired.”
“Hmm,” she hummed doubtfully but didn’t press.
By the time we reached the cashier, I could feel sweat forming on my forehead. The pain had turned sharp, deep, and I could sense the bandage loosening under my shirt. Still, I helped carry the groceries anyway and that’s when Keiko noticed.
“Wait—Ryusei!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “Why are you—oh my god, you’re sweating so much!”
Her voice drew a few stares from nearby shoppers. Before I could respond, she spotted the small red stain forming on my shirt. Her face turned pale.
“Ryusei! You’re bleeding again!” she shouted, half in panic.
I glanced down. Sure enough — the white fabric was slowly darkening with blood. A dull wave of dizziness hit me.
Keiko grabbed my arm immediately. “Sit! Over there!”
There was a bench near the exit. She helped me lower myself onto it, her hands shaking slightly.
“Stay here, don’t move!” she ordered before sprinting toward the pharmacy section inside. I barely had time to protest.
A few moments later, she returned, arms full of bandages and antiseptic wipes. “Come on, restroom’s that way!”
“Keiko, it’s—”
“No arguments,” she snapped, her tone trembling.
She half-dragged, half-guided me into the women’s restroom, ignoring the confused looks from a few people nearby.
Once inside, she locked the door and turned to me, face full of worry. “Take off your shirt. Now.”
I hesitated, scratching my cheek sheepishly. “That sounds kinda—”
“Ryusei!”
“Yes, ma’am…”
I slowly pulled off the shirt, grimacing as the sticky fabric peeled away from the half-opened wound. Keiko winced when she saw it — the bandage had come loose, and a thin line of fresh blood traced down my abdomen.
“Oh god…” she muttered, shaking her head. “You should’ve asked for help. This looks awful.”
I gave her a weak, apologetic smile. “Sorry… guess I didn’t wrap it right.”
She sighed deeply, grabbing the disinfectant. “Honestly. You always try to act tough until you nearly collapse.”
“Old habits,” I said softly.
Her hands were careful, gentle but firm as she cleaned and re-wrapped the wound. I could see her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips pressed tight — focused, serious, yet still incredibly beautiful.
“There,” she said finally, tying the bandage securely. “That should hold better.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks warm. “It looks way more professional than mine.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, but her tone was still sharp. “And you better not push yourself again, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said quickly, raising my hand in mock salute.
She rolled her eyes, clearly trying not to smile.
But when she picked up my shirt, her expression changed again. The bloodstain was obvious, and her shoulders dropped in frustration.
“Should we buy you a new one?” she asked. “You can’t walk around like this.”
I shrugged. “It’s just a short walk home. No big deal.”
“I don’t want the neighbors asking questions,” she said, frowning.
I smirked. “Then I’ll just walk home shirtless. That’ll make them really curious.”
Her eyes widened before she reached up and pinched my cheek hard.
“Ow—ow! Keiko!” I whined.
“Deserved,” she said, cheeks slightly flushed. “This isn’t the time to joke!”
“Sorry, sorry!” I laughed, holding up my hands.
She tossed the shirt at me. “Get dressed. Quickly. We still have a birthday to prepare for.”
I couldn’t resist teasing one more time. “Aren’t you going to help me put it on?”
She gave me the glare — the one that could turn any man to stone.
I gulped. “Right. Putting it on myself. Got it.”
Within seconds, I was dressed and standing upright again, though the sting still lingered beneath the fresh bandage.
---
“Keiko, wait—slow down,” I said as we walked out of the supermarket. She was walking faster than usual, her steps short and sharp. I knew she was upset, but it hurt too much to keep up.
After a few more steps, she stopped suddenly and turned around. Her face softened when she saw me wincing.
Without a word, she came closer. I thought she was going to scold me again, but she just looked away instead, biting her lip.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have snapped earlier. I just…” Her voice trembled a little. “I was really scared. When I saw the blood again, I thought I’d…”
I blinked, not expecting that.
The tension in my chest melted as I stepped closer and reached for her hand. She didn’t resist — just looked down at our joined hands, her fingers trembling slightly.
“Hey,” I said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were worried — anyone would be.”
She looked up, eyes shimmering a little. “But I dumped it all on you. I should’ve stayed calm.”
I smiled faintly. “Keiko… I’d rather see you angry than see you cry again. So if you need to scold me, do it. I can take it.”
She let out a small laugh — half a sob, half a smile — and shook her head.
“You really don’t make this easy, you know that?” she said.
“I’m a trouble magnet. Comes with the name.”
That earned me another tiny laugh.
“Come on,” I said, gently pulling one of the grocery bags from her hand. “Let’s go home… together.”
She blinked, a little surprised by the softness in my tone. Then, finally, she smiled — a real, warm smile that melted everything else away.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Together.”
We started walking again, side by side this time, matching each other’s pace. The late afternoon sun glowed softly above us, the golden light wrapping around our shadows as if protecting them.
My abdomen still ached with every step, but somehow, it didn’t feel unbearable anymore. Not when she was beside me.
Every few moments, Keiko would glance at me — probably checking if I was in pain — and I’d smile back just to reassure her.
And even though my shirt was still faintly stained, and my steps still a little unsteady, I couldn’t help thinking —
If every walk home could feel like this, maybe the pain was worth it.