The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee, the beeping monitors a constant low hum. Haru lay propped up on pillows, ribs taped tight, head bandaged, a few stitches pulling at his lip. He looked battered but awake, dark brown eyes tracking Chris as he adjusted the blanket for the tenth time.
"Stop fussing," Haru grumbled, voice rough but fond. "I'm fine."
Chris sat on the bed edge, hazel eyes still red from worry. "You got beat up saving Ryan's ass. 'Fine' is relative."
Ichigo was with a nurse for a quick snack—hospital rules, no kids long in rooms. The door knocked soft.
"Come in," Haru called.
Aiko stepped in, face pale, coat clutched tight, eyes wide taking in the bruises. She carried a small bag—fruits, magazines, Ichigo's favorite dino book.
"Haru..." voice cracked. "I heard from Chris. Are you okay?"
Haru managed weak smile. "Been better. But yeah. Rib cracked, concussion mild. Home tomorrow."
Aiko pulled chair close, sitting. Chris on other side, hand on Haru's.
"Ichigo?" Aiko asked soft.
"With nurse. Wanted to see Papa, but short visits."
Aiko nodded, eyes misty. "When Chris called... heart stopped. You in hospital—because helping someone. Typical of you."
Haru shrugged careful. "Couldn't walk away. Ryan's pain in ass, but no one deserves that."
Aiko reached, hand on his arm gentle. "You're good person. Always were. Therapy helped me see—I took that for granted."
Chris listened quiet, no jealousy—just family now.
Aiko turned him. "Arigatou—for calling me. For letting me be here."
Chris smiled small. "You're his mom. Ichigo's. We're... team."
Aiko's tears spilled. "After everything I did—leaving, affair—you let me back. For him."
Haru voice low. "He's our kid. You changed. That's enough."
Talk turned practical: recovery plan, Ichigo schedule, Aiko offering help—meals, pickups. Therapy mention: "My sessions taught forgive self. Extend others. Grateful you did."
Ichigo returned—nurse trailing, eyes big at "owie Papa." Climbed bed careful, hugs soft.
"Mommy here too!" Grinned big.
Aiko kissed his head. "Yeah, baby. Family visit."
Discharge next day—home quiet, recovery slow. Aiko dropped meals, stayed play with Ichigo. Chris caretaker full-time—soups, meds, cuddles.
Nights tender—pain meds dulled aches, but love sharp.
One evening, lights low, Ichigo out. Chris helped Haru bed, careful ribs.
"You hurt for stranger," Chris whispered, eyes soft. "Love you more."
Haru pulled close gentle. "Worth it. For good."
Kiss started soft—healing slow. Chris careful bruises, lips tender. Tongues brushed light, breaths synced warm.
Shirts shed slow—Chris lifting Haru's gentle, palms warm chest avoiding hurts. Skin met soft, slim pressing medium careful.
Mouths wandered: Haru neck kisses light, soothing. Chris sighed, body melting slow, grinding gentle.
Pants eased away tender. Bare, warmth careful. Bodies aligned—Chris's hand wrapping soft, stroking slow rhythm. Haru breathed deep, pleasure building gentle waves.
Chris's free hand traced uninjured side, deepening connection light. Pleasure coiled soft intense—eyes locked, hazel grateful love, brown full devotion. Whispers: "My hero," Chris breathed; "For you," Haru husky soft.
Climax crested gentle—Haru tensing careful, release warm muffled sigh. Chris followed, shuddering tender.
Tangled after, breaths evening. Chris teary smile. "Healing with you best."
Haru kissed forehead. "Always."
Days recovery: Aiko visits regular—meals, Ichigo play, talks therapy growth. Ryan text thanks awkward, respect earned.
Family circle wider—Aiko's support solid, love mending all.
Hospital scare past—bonds unbreakable.