I woke up with a start. A gasp escaped my throat. My mind struggled to make sense with what I was feeling. I felt warm, but also wet. My pajama bottoms were sloshing as I rolled over. My hand went down, and felt the warm wetness on them. I tapped my crotch, and it wasn't wet. My fingers went to my nose, and I sniffed.

It was definitely urine. And if it wasn't mine... I gasped sharply. I shot up on the futon. Then, I heard it, barely there.

"Tetsuuu, I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." The smallest sobs I'd ever heard in my life. The saddest, most heartbreaking, painful sounding thing. My eyes became warm. My clean hand found Sana, his chest. He was breathing so hard, crying in the dark. As my hand touched his chest, he started breathing harder, little high pitched whining sounds coming from him like an injured dog.

I leaned over him, so gentle. I began to rub his chest. My hand moved to his dear face and my fingers curled, the backs of them gliding over his wet cheek over and over, trying to show him it was okay. That I loved him, no matter what. That I care for him, it was okay. It was okay. My tears overflowed, hearing him cry like this.

"I love you," I said to him, leaned over his face, seeing his shining eyes reflected by the little bit of light outside. "I love you. You're okay. I love you."

He couldn't answer. His eyes closed, and new tears fell to my hand which caressed his cheek in all my love. I looked down, and peeled the blanket away from us. I threw it past his legs, and this thudding sound woke up my parents.

"Huh?" My mom asked. My papa made a grunting sound, waking up.

"It's okay, I'm just going to take Sana to the toilet," I said, not wanting them to know. Sana's face went from side to side slowly, his face scrunching up in new tears. He didn't want them to know either.

It was too late. My papa stood up and turned on the floor lamp. He paused, standing so near to us. I couldn't read his expression. My mom got up, and immediately saw our state. Sana whispered something that I didn't hear.

"What? I didn't hear, I'm sorry." I leaned my face over him again, so close. He shook his head slowly again. I swept his bangs back from his eyes. I looked over at my parents. My mom's face was devastated, her hands were squeezed together at her waist. I was so glad Sana couldn't see her looking at him like that.

"It's okay, Sana-chan," she said, sounding so normal. "It's not your fault. It happens sometimes to everybody. I'll put some blankets on the couch, and you two can sleep there. It's absolutely okay."

He didn't answer, that hurt dog whine constant in his throat, tears rolling down his cheeks. I got up, and bent my knees. I scooped him up in our customary carrying pose. His pajama pants were completely soaked, and up the back of his shirt was, too. I didn't want him to have to be wet like this. I didn't want him to have to feel like this. I held him as close as possible to me, dearly to me, not caring that his clothes were making me wet. I gingerly walked off our futon.

Without a word, I passed my parents and walked out of the doorway.

Once in our bathroom off of our bedroom, I sat him on his shower chair. I peeled off his wet clothes. His eyes were closed the whole time, as small tears fell down. He was leaned against the wall, slumped a little to the side. If I didn't know how weak he was, I'd say he was acting defeated, not supporting his own weight. He sat there naked, as I retrieved a washcloth from under the sink. I poured body wash into it, and began washing him in little swirling motions, making suds.

"There," I breathed, smiling at him even though he couldn't see, trying so hard to smile through my own tears which were threatening all the time to spill over. "You're getting clean, see? It's okay. I love you. There's nothing wrong at all."

His teeth showed, and he whispered to me again, but this time I heard. My jaw dropped as I heard his words.

"I wish I was dead," he whispered, so full of desperation, his breath racing, his voice collapsing into a sob at the last word. The long whining sound was back, fresh tears rolling down and down.

"Baby, what-" I sniffled. I sank to my knees from my squatting position. My back curled over. My hands found the floor. My breath was coming too quick, my heart beating too hard. I had to have misheard. He was whispering so quietly. But no, there was no mistaking-

"I don't want to be like this," he whispered, that long whine coming out in bursts after it. "I don't want to live like this. I don't want to pee the bed! I don't want- I don't want it! Make it stop," he sobbed. He was just sitting there, as if he could be sleeping against the wall, except for the tears coming out of his eyes, and these horrible, terrible words. "Make it stop, make it stop..." He was saying over and over, his sobs coming with abandon now, his breath going so fast.

"Baby," I said, among my tears, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Gently, I took him by his sides. I pulled him to the floor slowly, and held him to me. He couldn't hold me back, but I leaned the side of his face to my neck as I knew he liked. Gently, I began rocking him back and forth, soothing him like how my mom used to soothe me as a child. He cried, rubbing his face into my neck, loving me. I cried into his hair, in shock at his words, in shock at the situation. I never could have imagined this.

After a long while, he calmed a bit. I kissed his hair over an over, adoring him. I'd hug him all night if he wanted me to, but I was sure he was cold. I needed to wash him, make him all warm in his new pajamas and get him as comfortable as possible. He could sleep on top of me in our customary pose, and I wouldn't sleep, holding him to me and making sure he was safe. And if he needed to go to the bathroom again, he could tell me and I could take him. He didn't need to feel like this. Because I knew now why he was crying. He was crying in shame. So ashamed.

I'd washed him and myself. My mom had prepared new pajamas for us in our absence. They were laid on our bed in our bedroom. I was so grateful to her. I put his cute new pajamas on him, and told him he looked cute. He didn't smile, so I hugged him so tight again.

"I love you, my husband," I told him in our embrace, so close to his good ear.

"Don't leave me," he said, making a sniffling sound.

"Never, I could never leave you. That's what husband means. You have me forever." I kissed his ear, and he broke down again, sniffling so much. I kissed his lips, still holding on to him so tight. He kissed me back, and I never wanted to let go of him. I wanted to show him what I meant, even if he couldn't believe my words.

When I carried him back to the living room, our futon was cleared out of the room. I didn't know where my mom had hidden it. I was so glad Sana didn't have to see it again. He felt embarrassed enough. I asked my papa to help us get in our customary pose, because with Sana having no strength we couldn't do it on our own. He helped without a word, even sliding a blanket over us.

I held on to Sana so tight. My mom turned off the lights, and my parents got back on their futons. Soon, I heard my papa snoring. I listened hard, feeling Sana's breaths on my body. Soon, I determined he was mercifully asleep.

God. Oh, god, my poor Sana. My dear love. His shame. I wanted to take it all away, and bury it far away from us. I wanted to take him far away, where he could be happy and not have to care about this anymore. I wanted him to smile, maybe we could be on a beach somewhere. I wanted to buy him a beautiful dress that he could wear on the beach.

Soon, I was thinking of the two of us on a beach together. We were both wearing pretty dresses, holding hands, our sandals in our other hands as we walked along the surf, kicking the water with our feet and laughing. His beautiful face, lit up by the sunset.

In an instant, our dress colors changed. They lost their colors, draining away into the sea. We walked hand in hand, wearing white. Tropical flowers blossomed in our hair, yellow hibiscus and pink plumeria, making crowns like we were royalty. Long, shimmering white tulle fell from these trailing in the wind. Bouquets of dripping tropical flowers bloomed on our hands, replacing our sandals. He was laughing with me, pulling on my hand. I cried out in laughter, as he pulled me into the waves, falling into the waves with him. He splashed me, the salty water turning the color of orange and pink sunset, covering me with the colors, making me the happiest bride in the world.

My wide eyes stared towards the ceiling. His smiling face, his flower crown drooping over his eye from the gentle fall in the waves. The happiest groom in the world, diving for me, kissing me in the waves, holding my hands, telling me he loved me and was so happy to be married to me. Our golden rings met as our hands intertwined tightly, as he kissed me so tenderly, showing me the most beautiful, kind love.

My eyes were warm with tears, as my daydream played on the ceiling.

After many minutes, I knew. I knew without a doubt, this was what I wanted. I wanted to go to Hawaii with him, where he was from, with crowns and bouquets of sweet scented tropical flowers. I wanted us to wear white dresses, and get married on a beach that was familiar to him, the teal waves before us crashing to shore over and over. I wanted our friends there, and the family that now belonged to both of us. I wanted to hold his hands, and kiss him there, the sunset colors everywhere. I wanted to walk back up the aisle, holding his hand, after our officiant announced us to everyone as husbands, even though I felt more like a blushing bride. I wanted there to be flowers everywhere, so many rainbows of flowers, showing our pride.

Most of all, I never wanted him to stop smiling. I wanted to make something beautiful for him, to show him we would have a beautiful life. That there was no reason for tears. That we loved each other, and we could do anything if we did it together. Anything.

I held him tighter in this, my heart now filled with resolve. I would give him something beautiful. I would make him smile forever, and declare my love for him in our beautiful wedding ceremony. I'd do it if it killed me, just to show him he didn't need to cry anymore.