He married her when she was twelve and he was fourteen. An arranged marriage, purposefully designed for her to serve him through his disease and short life. They had found moments of happiness in their youth, her acceptance of their circumstances bringing him comfort in a world filled with suffering. Over the years, despite the practical origins of their union, they had grown to understand each other deeply. Now, almost a decade later, he was twenty-three and she twenty-one. His disease had begun to affect his left eye, though his vision remained mostly intact for now. After speaking with Tengen about his fellow Hashira's decision, Kagaya watched his guest depart, his smile fading as solitude returned. He turned toward the garden, its beauty doing little to ease the weight on his heart. The thought that haunted him most would never cease to twist his stomach with guilt: Why had she not fought against marrying him? Even when she insisted she'd chosen to stay, he couldn't accept it. At twelve, what choice had she truly had? Now six months pregnant with twins, she carried the additional burden of caring for him as his strength deteriorated. He couldn't even help his own wife in her condition. The realization made his heartache so intensely he could barely breathe. Somewhere along the way, he'd grown fond of her—had even come to love her. The admission terrified him. She was supposed to care for him, to bear his children, to continue the family line—not to be loved. How dare he burden her with that, too? He was a man drowning in sorrow and regret. His father's suicide, the deaths of his siblings, the constant loss of demon slayers under his command—he couldn't share this pain with her. Not when she carried their children and already shouldered so much. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Tengen watching him from afar, nor did he see Hinatsuru sent to fetch his wife. When he finally noticed her approaching through the garden, his chest tightened at the sight of her struggling to walk comfortably with her swollen belly. "You shouldn't be walking this far," he said, forcing his usual gentle smile as she reached his side. "How are you feeling today?" Her tired eyes regarded him with concern. "I should be asking you that. You look... troubled."