●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER FIFTEEN,
cherry blossom

—

༇ KAEDE wakes up on the couch again. His back hurts. The blanket slid off during the night, and someone tucked another one over him. The sky outside is grey, not with rain, just that a flat color. The house is unusually still. No clatter of breakfast plates. No murmured voices from the hallway. No crying from Miyu.

He sits up slowly. Checks his phone. Nothing. No text from Chishiya. No missed call. No update.

A tight knot forms in his chest. He goes looking upstairs, where Hana is curled on one side of the bed, facing the wall, wearing Kaede's shirt. Her phone is clutched in one hand like a lifeline. Kaoru isn't in the room. Kaede finds him in the kitchen with Arisu, both hunched over mugs of tea. Arisu looks like he hasn't slept either.

"Anything?" Kaede asks, voice a quiet rasp.

Arisu doesn't look up. "Nothing."

"He didn't reply to the photos?"

"He left me on read," Arisu mutters, voice edged with frustration. "I sent them. He opened the message at 3 a.m."

Kaoru stirs his coffee with a spoon. "They're not coming back today, are they?" he asks.

"I don't know." Arisu runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's going on. If something happened, he should've said something unless he couldn't."

"Or didn't want to."

Kaede sits across from them. His stomach growls, but he ignores it. The silence is starting to take shape around them. "Do you think she's okay?" he blurts.

Arisu doesn't answer.

Kaoru does. "No."

The word hits hard. Kaede flinches. Arisu rubs his face and sighs.

"Don't say that, Kaoru."

"You're all thinking it."

"We don't know anything yet."

"Exactly," Kaoru snaps. "It's been over a day and nobody's told us anything, and we're just supposed to sit here like nothing is happening?" His voice shakes.

Kaede leans forward, elbows on the table. "He wouldn't leave us in the dark like this unless he had to. Right?"

Arisu doesn't look convinced.

"Right?"

"He knows how scared Hana is," Kaede insists. "He wouldn't just vanish."

Kaoru exhales hard through his nose. His fingers press against his temples like he's trying to crush a headache. "We should go to the hospital ourselves," he says suddenly.

Arisu's head jerks up. "What?"

"We go. All three of us. Ask them directly. They can't ignore us if we're standing right there."

"Kaoru, they absolutely can ignore us. You're not even listed on her emergency contacts."

"Then I'll say I'm her son."

"You are her son, but that's not how this works—"

"We'll make it work!" The outburst startles them all. Kaoru pushes up from the table, fists clenched. "I want to know! I'm sick of pretending to be okay for everyone when I don't even know—" His voice breaks.

Kaede stands, circling the table slowly. "Okay. We'll think of something. Let's not freak out yet. Not unless there's something to freak out about."

"She could be dead, Kaede!"

Arisu slams his palm down on the table. The sudden crack makes them both jump. "She's not dead."

The room drops into silence. "You don't know that either," Kaoru mumbles. "You just want to believe it."

"I do believe it." Arisu's voice is hard.

No one says anything for a long time. Kaede ends up making toast again. It feels mechanical. Bread in, wait, butter, repeat. They eat it standing in the kitchen.

Eventually, Hana wakes up. She doesn't speak for a while. Just drifts through the house, checking her phone obsessively. She picks Miyu up without a word and walks her outside, wrapped in two blankets.

Kaede follows her. They sit on the porch steps. Miyu's asleep in Hana's arms. The sun is out now, warm but not bright. Hana's knees are pulled up to her chest.

"I dreamt she came home," she whispers.

Kaede glances at her.

"I was sitting on the couch and the door opened and she just walked in with the baby. Like nothing happened. She was smiling and so was Dad."

Kaede doesn't say anything.

"When I woke up, I felt sick."

A pause.

"Do you think it's a boy?"

Kaede shrugs. "I kinda hope it's a girl."

"Why?"

He looks down at his lap. "I think she'd be like you."

Hana snorts. "I think Dad would panic if he had two daughters."

They both manage a small laugh, but it doesn't last. Cherry blossom petals fall down around them, flowing with the wind.

"Does Kiyoshi know?" Kaede questions. It just flops out of his mouth before he can think.

"No." Hana shrugs. "I don't know what to tell him." A pause. "You don't hang out with him much anymore."

"I'm busy training," Kaede says quickly.

"How's it going anyway?"

"Good. At least, that's what Kuina says."

They talk until Miyu starts crying— that's when they finally go back inside, Kaede's heartbeat fastened.

●・○・●・○・●

That night, he lies awake on the couch with the blanket pulled up to his chest and Miyu's empty bottle by his feet. Hana has gone quiet hours ago. Arisu and Kaoru both tried to stay awake in shifts, but by now, they've collapsed from waiting. This is the third night.

Quiet as a ghost, Kaede slides on his shoes, shrugs into a jacket, and steps outside. The porch creaks under his feet, but no one stirs. His phone is in his pocket. His crane necklace around his neck. He walks at first. Then he runs.

The hospital is almost ten kilometers away. Kaede's finally sees the advantage of going out to run so often, because he's not tired by the time he enters the hospital. He pushes through the main entrance and finds himself in a nearly empty reception area. A tired-looking woman glances up from behind the front desk.

Kaede hurries to her, anxious. "Excuse me, sorry, it's just— um, my friend's mom is here, and I- I think she had a baby, and I need to know if she's okay. Please."

The woman blinks. "Sweetheart... you came here all alone?"

Kaede nods quickly. His fingers grip the counter so hard they ache. "I live with them, sort of, and they've been gone for so long and we don't know if she's okay, and no one's answering, and... please, I just want to know."

The woman softens, but her voice stays firm. "I'm sorry. I can't give out information about patients unless you're family or listed as an emergency contact."

"But I am family!"

"Honey—"

"I know she's in the maternity wing. Her name is Yuzuki Chishiya but she goes by Baya! She's with her husband Shuntarō Chishiya. He's kind of scary but really smart and weird and he wears a white coat sometimes and please, can't you just tell me if she's alive?"

The woman sighs. "I can't tell you anything, sweetie. I'm sorry. Please go home. Let me call your parents."

Kaede's shoulders slump. Tears sting his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall. "Okay."

He smiles at her, a gentle boy smile, and then turns and walks away like he's going to leave.

She watches him go.

And once she's turned her attention back to her monitor, Kaede bolts. Straight past the waiting area. Past the elevators. Past the vending machines. Down the hall with the arrow that says MATERNITY.

"Hey!" the woman shouts behind him. "Wait—young man!"

Kaede doesn't stop. His feet slam against the hospital tile, echoing through the corridor. A startled nurse gasps as he sprints past.

He finds the stairwell and bolts up two stairs at a time. The maternity floor is quiet. Dim lights. Soft wallpaper with ducks and moons. Kaede darts past the nurses' station, ignoring the shouts behind him.

He peeks into room after room, heart pounding. Not here. Not here. One room has a new father crying softly over a swaddled baby. Another has a woman sleeping with her partner curled at her side. Kaede's chest aches. None of them are Baya.

He finds a nurse eventually, folding blankets outside one of the rooms.

"Excuse me," Kaede says softly.

She turns, surprised. "Hi there... are you lost?"

"I'm looking for Yuzuki Chishiya," he says. "She had a baby today. Is she here?"

The nurse's brows knit together. "Chishiya..." She checks a clipboard. "I'm sorry, I personally don't have direct access to the system from here. You can ask—"

"The baby is early. Twenty-nine weeks. There is a section for that, right?"

The nurse hesitates. "They might have been moved to the NICU."

"Where's that?"

"Second floor, west wing. But you shouldn't be—"

"Thank you," Kaede says quickly, already running.

Down corridors, past signs he can't read fast enough, past nurses who call after him, confused and concerned. He doesn't care that it's late. That he's twelve. That he's not even family. He cares that Hana has been curled under the blankets all day, crying.

He turns a corner and nearly slams into a tall white coat.

Kaede stumbles back, startled, then freezes.

Chishiya has just stepped out of an elevator, his hair tousled like he's been dragging his hands through it. His face is pale, and Kaede barely recognizes the expression on it.

"What the hell," he mutters, "are you doing here?"

Kaede can't answer. He's shaking. He tries to say something. He thinks he's going to say he's sorry, or that he just wanted to check, but instead, a sound cracks out of him. Then he throws himself forward at Chishiya, hugging him.

Chishiya goes rigid. He just stands there, arms limp at his sides, as if Kaede just tried to stab him instead of hug him. His jaw clenches. He looks around, baffled and uncomfortable.

Muffled sobs shake through Kaede's small shoulders, wetting the front of Chishiya's shirt. He doesn't even realize how loud he is until Chishiya sharply hushes him under his breath. "You'll get us both thrown out."

But Kaede just shakes his head, fists tightening in the man's coat. He's been quiet all day, calm all week. Holding it in, but he can't do that anymore.

"I thought—" he gasps through tears. "I thought she was dead. I didn't know where she was. No one would tell me anything, Shush, I thought—"

Chishiya sighs, long and exhausted.

"She's alive," he says bluntly. "So is the baby. They're both in the NICU."

"What happened? Why did you need the papers? Why didn't you update us?"

Kaede sniffs hard, trying to quiet his crying as Chishiya pushes him back, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Okay," Chishiya mutters, glancing down the hall before leaning a little closer. "But if I tell you, you have to calm down. I don't want security involved."

Kaede nods quickly, wiping his face with both sleeves. His eyes are red, but wide. "I need to know," he pleads.

Chishiya speaks with bitterness. "She was in labor for nearly twenty hours before she was even fully dilated. She fainted and tore while pushing, and they stitched her up before she even understood what was happening. Barely gave her time to hold the baby. They didn't explain anything." A pause. "I needed the papers because I'm going to file a formal complaint. I'm suing them. The hospital didn't follow our consent form."

Kaede's mouth falls open. "Is she—"

"She's conscious now. She's okay. But tired and in pain. She doesn't want to leave the baby and requested I don't tell Hana and Kaoru about this. They'll worry sick. Hana will blame herself for asking for a sibling, et cetera."

Kaede feels a wave of heat crash over his cheeks. Guilt. Worry. Rage. He doesn't even know what to do with it. "Will the baby make it?"

Chishiya nods. "Most likely. She's surprisingly big for twenty-nine weeks and won't have to stay at the NICU for all too long. And Yuzuki should heal quickly as well— though that doesn't mean the hospital is forgiven for what they did."

"She." Kaede smiles lightly. "Do you have a name?"

"No. We hadn't prepared for a premature baby, obviously, and weren't even done picking out names. We'll think of something eventually."

Kaede hesitates. Then, sheepishly, "Can I... see them?"

"If Yuzuki says yes," Chishiya says. "And if you don't hug me again."

Kaede manages a shaky smile. "Okay."

Wordlessly, Chishiya turns and starts walking. Kaede follows.

They move in silence through the halls, down the corridor toward the west wing. Kaede notices how stiffly Chishiya walks. His coat is wrinkled. His hair's a mess. They pass through a pair of glass doors labeled NEONATAL INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, and Kaede slows instinctively, eyes wide. The world inside is different. Low lights. Soft beeping. Nurses speak in hushed tones. Kaede shrinks behind Chishiya a little, overwhelmed.

In a corner of the NICU, separated by thin glass walls, lies Baya. She's curled on her side in a hospital bed. She's awake but not moving, one hand reaching into an incubator beside her bed. Inside, small and curled up, is the baby.

A nurse adjusts something near the monitor beside the incubator. Baya doesn't even blink.

Chishiya nods toward the door. "Stay here."

He steps inside alone. Baya glances up when he enters. Her face is damp. Kaede waits, watching through the glass. His heart is hammering. He wants to run in, wants to see the baby closer, and wants to hug Baya, but he stays still.

After a moment, Chishiya leans down. They exchange words Kaede can't hear. Baya blinks slowly. She turns her head slightly toward the window.

Chishiya steps back out. "Don't touch anything unless she allows you to."

"I won't," Kaede promises.

Chishiya opens the door, allowing Kaede to follow him inside. The room feels warmer than the hallway. Kaede's eyes are instantly drawn to the incubator. The baby is so small. Her arms are like twigs. Her face is pink and round. She has a little hat on and a feeding tube.

Kaede approaches the bed slowly. "Hi," he whispers.

Baya smiles weakly. "Hey."

Kaede kneels beside her bed. "You're okay?"

"Mostly. Hurts a lot." Her voice is raspy. "But I'll live. I'm sorry we didn't say anything. Everything happened so fast."

Kaede looks at the baby again, breath catching in his throat. But before he can say anything about her, Baya speaks up again. Her fingers wrap around his wrist.

"Where are your parents? How did you get here?"

He immediately bows down. "I'm sorry. I ran here because I was worried. Mom and Dad are asleep at home."

"What?" Panicked, Baya shifts, gripping the side rail of her hospital bed, visibly trying to sit upright despite the pain. "Kaede, that's so dangerous."

"Don't." Chishiya moves quickly to her side, gently pressing her shoulder back down. "You're going to rip something open."

"He came here all alone?" she breathes, glaring up at him like he allowed it.

"Yes," Chishiya mutters, sighing. "He nuck past security and bolted through half the hospital like a feral dog."

"I wasn't feral," Kaede mutters, cheeks burning. "I was polite. I even smiled."

"You ran," Chishiya snaps.

"I was panicked!"

Baya groans, flopping back against her pillow. Her hand goes to her forehead. "You're lucky nothing went wrong."

"I didn't care!" Kaede blurts out, a little too loud. He lowers his voice again. "I didn't know if you were alive. No one told us anything. Hana cried herself to sleep. Kaoru was waiting. I didn't know what to do anymore. So I ran here."

The room falls silent. Baya stares at him, her expression softened now. She lets out a breath that's somewhere between a laugh and a groan. Her hand reaches for him again, and he kneels closer to the bed. She squeezes his fingers. "I'm okay," she murmurs. "The baby's okay. And I'm so, so sorry we didn't update you."

Kaede nods quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

"Yeah," Baya says. "Just be quiet, okay? She just fell asleep."

Kaede pulls a nearby chair over and sits carefully, staring at the tiny infant in the incubator. His heart swells in his chest. There are wires and tubes, but even so, she looks peaceful.

"Is she cold in there?" he asks after a moment, whispering.

"No," Baya replies. "It's temperature controlled. Keeps her warm like the womb."

Kaede blinks, trying to keep himself from crying again. "I didn't mean to be a problem."

"You weren't," Baya answers. "You scared the hell out of me, but you're not a problem. You're family. Just... please, next time, don't run across the city in the middle of the night, okay?"

Kaede finally nods. He leans forward a little, resting his chin on the side of the bed. Baya's hand finds his hair and combs gently through it.

The room quiets. The monitors beep steadily. Chishiya exhales and leans back against the wall.

Kaede lifts his head after a long stretch of silence. His eyes flick toward Baya again, then to Chishiya, then, nervously, back to Baya. "Do you know when you'll come home?"

"Maybe tomorrow," she murmurs. "Just for a bit."

Kaede straightens. "Both of you?"

Chishiya nods. "The NICU encourages it. The baby stays here. They want the parents to rest. But before we leave, we're taking the baby to the hospital I work at. Not this one. We had no choice before— this one is closest from home, but clearly not a good one."

Kaede sits with them until Baya starts dozing off again, one hand still in his hair. Chishiya eventually nudges him up, telling him it's time to go. No arguments this time. He nods obediently and trails beside Chishiya. They don't talk much on the walk to the car, and even less during the drive home.

Chishiya parks in front of the house. He glances at Kaede, sighing. "Get some sleep."

"I will," Kaede says, climbing out of the car.

Chishiya doesn't wait to see if he actually goes in. Kaede watches him disappear, waits another beat, and then tiptoes the opposite direction. Instead of entering his own home, he goes to Baya and Chishiya's. The key is hidden under the fourth tile in the walkway. He lifts the tile gently, retrieves the key, and slips inside.

Shoes are still scattered by the door, one of Chishiya's jackets is slung over a kitchen chair, and a crumpled blanket lies off the couch. There are coffee cups on the table, one with lipstick smudges, another with a spoon left inside.

Kaede stands in the entryway before he gets to work. He starts in the kitchen. "Gentlemen clean up after themselves," Kuina always said, smacking his head lightly with a dish towel. "And after their crush's mom, too, if you want to leave an impression."

He washes every mug and bowl in the sink, scrubbing carefully with soap and drying with the towel that always hangs by the oven. He wipes down the counters, the stove, and even the kettle. Then he opens the fridge.

Inside: half a box of strawberries going soft, three containers of expired takeout, an empty juice bottle, and something gray that might have once been lasagna. He throws out the worst offenders and reorganizes the rest. There's not much, but he manages to group it neatly by shelf, closing the door with a satisfied sigh.

In the living room, Kaede folds the blanket, fluffs the pillows, and opens a window to let in the early morning breeze. He digs out the lint roller and goes over the couch cushions. He's never been too proud to know this much about adult housekeeping, but tonight it feels good.

He hesitates in front of their bedroom. It feels a little too private, but then he remembers Baya's tired face, her voice as she said you're family.

So he steps in. The bed is half-made. He strips it gently and replaces the sheets with the soft set Hana helped Baya pick out a few weeks ago. He doesn't touch anything on Chishiya's side of the room. There's a stack of medical books and a box of mints that he avoids like they might be booby trapped. But he straightens everything on Baya's nightstand.

He puts a bottle of water beside the bed. Tucks in the corners of the blanket like Kuina taught him, hotel style.

Lastly, he feeds Cinnamon— who's been getting more than enough food from Usagi. He gives the bunny extra lettuce, silently wondering how long that animal is still going to last.

By the time he's done, it's three in the morning. He feels anything but tired. The energy is practically radiating off him in such bursts that he feels like giving the entire house a makeover. But instead of doing that, Kaede sneaks his way into his own house, changes into better clothes without waking Hana and Kaoru, who are asleep in his bed, and then goes outside again. Running. Again.

●・○・●・○・●

The same man opens the slot. This time, he grins. "Back for more, kid?"

Kaede just walks inside.

The fights are already happening. The man with the clipboard spots him instantly and waves him over. "We got someone for you, kid. A crowd favorite. Don't cry."

Kaede says, "I want gloves this time."

What?"

"I want gloves."

The man squints at him. Then shrugs. "Fine. You're in match four."

Kaede laces his gloves in the back corner. The gym buzzes around him. He breathes through it all.

His opponent is fifteen: Jinta. Broad shoulders, thick neck, and the kind of crooked nose that's been broken more than once. He spits on the mat and grins with gold teeth.

The bell rings.

Kaede slips. Glides. He's been watching videos. With the same tactic, he lets Jinta burn power early, ducking under hooks, brushing past elbow swings, taking one hard shot to the ribs and still standing.

The crowd's roaring by the time Kaede hits back. Sharp. Fast. To the ribs. To the chin. Then he backs off, draws Jinta in again, and kicks him.

Two rounds in, and Jinta's breathing heavy. Kaede's chest rises and falls steadily. He ducks low, moves left, then throws a right hook that lands on the temple.

Jinta drops. The crowd explodes. Kaede doesn't celebrate. He stands over Jinta, chest heaving, and waits for the count.

"Winner!" someone shouts. The announcer lifts Kaede's hand.

He steps out of the ring without looking back. He peels off his gloves slowly. His knuckles ache. His lip is raw again. His knees feel like jelly. But inside, he feels invincible.

"You keep this up, people are gonna start betting real money," the clipboard guy tells him.

Kaede nods once. "I'm coming back."

The man whistles. "See you soon."

It's still dark outside when he leaves.

He runs. Fifteen kilometers. And he plans to do this every single day. Rain, wind, frost—it doesn't matter. His lungs burn, his knees ache, his legs want to give out halfway through, but he keeps going. He runs past the river, through empty streets, up long hills, until the only thing he can hear is his own breathing.

He gets back and shadowboxes in an alley. The ground there is cracked and uneven, perfect for footwork training. His hands are blistered, his knuckles raw. After that, he heads to the abandoned warehouse where Aguni used to train him when no one was around. It's empty most days—except for the occasional drunk or stray, and it has a mirror standing against a wall, where Kaede watches himself move. Jabs. Hooks. Crosses. Slips. Elbows.

Then, a last workout. A mix of strength and endurance. Pull-ups until his shoulders shake (he can only do two), push-ups until his arms give out, rope work, jump rope, tire flips.

He doesn't let himself eat until the work is done. By eight, he returns home sweaty and wrecked, but determined. If he does this every day, he'll become unstoppable in the ring.

●・○・●・○・●

Kaede lets himself in quietly, shutting the door behind him with the softest click possible. The hallway is still dim with early morning. His shirt is soaked through, his legs dragging, every muscle aching. He slips off his shoes, tucks them neatly by the door, and tiptoes past the living room, where he finds Kaoru already awake.

He's sitting on the floor in front of the TV, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak, one knee drawn up to his chest. He looks over instantly. "Where were you?"

Kaede freezes. "Out."

Kaoru raises an eyebrow. "Out."

"Training."

"In the middle of the night?"

Kaede shrugs. "I couldn't sleep."

Kaoru narrows his eyes at him. "You're bleeding."

Kaede touches his lip. It is bleeding. The cut must've split open again. "It's not bad. My lip just split open again. It was there before."

"Kaoru?" a sleepy voice calls from down the hall.

They both look up as Hana shuffles into the living room, hair frizzed from sleep. "Kaede!" She walks over and throws her arms around him without even looking. He stiffens at first, but then slowly, his arms come up and he holds her back. "You left," she mumbles.

"I just went out to clear my head. I'm sorry." His voice is lower now, the fight adrenaline fully drained. "I should've told you."

Kaoru gives him another long look, then sighs and stands up. "You're going to get caught one of these days."

"Caught doing what?"

Kaoru freezes. So does Kaede.

The voice comes from the kitchen. Usagi stands by the kettle, arms crossed. She's wearing one of Arisu's shirts, and her face is calm, but her eyes are sharp in a mother-like way.

Kaede says nothing.

Usagi stares at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. "You weren't on the couch this morning."

"I just... went out for a run."

"In a soaked hoodie and with a bloody lip?"

Kaoru clears his throat. "He just got into an argument with a fence."

Usagi lifts an eyebrow.

Kaede rubs his neck. "It was a really rude fence."

She exhales. "Kaede."

He looks up.

"Sit down."

He does.

Usagi walks around the table, kneels in front of him, and gently cups his chin in her hand. Her thumb brushes the split lip.

"You don't have to lie to me," she says. "I raised you. I can tell when you're lying before you open your mouth."

Kaede swallows. He doesn't answer.

Usagi studies his face for a moment, then stands and grabs the first aid kit from under the sink. She sits beside him on the couch and begins cleaning the cut. The antiseptic stings like hell. Kaede clenches his jaw but says nothing.

"I went to the hospital," Kaede finally announces.

Usagi pauses. "Alone?"

He nods.

"What?" Hana practically knocks him over. "How are they doing? Is Mom okay? And the baby? Is it a boy or girl?"

"They're okay," Kaede hastily explains. "The baby is at the NICU. It's a girl. Shush and Sushi might come home tomorrow. The baby has to stay at the NICU for a few weeks first."

"Probably until May," Usagi mutters. "The original due date." She pauses shortly, then looks at Kaede. "You're grounded for two weeks."

"Okay," he mutters, accepting it.

"Two months if you don't tell me the truth about that cut."

"It wasn't a big deal—"

"I'm sure it wasn't. So you won't mind explaining."

"I sparred with Kiyoshi," he quickly says. "This morning. We met up to train."

Usagi stares at him.

"I just needed to blow off steam," he adds.

"Hana." Usagi turns to the girl. "Ask Kiyoshi if he was sparring with Kaede this morning."

"Okay," Hana nervously responds, pulling out her phone. "He usually responds really quickly, so..." a few seconds of silence after she finishes sending the message, then a ping.

KIYOSHI ❤️

Were you sparring with Kaede this morning?

Yup

"See!" Kaede throws his hands in the air. "I'm telling you the truth."

Usagi sighs.

●・○・●・○・●

"No."

On the other end, Kuina protests faintly. Something about the kids being excited. About them wanting to meet their new sister.

"I said no," Chishiya repeats, though his tone doesn't rise. It's cold and clipped and final in the way that only he can make it. "She needs rest. That's it. Not visitors. Not attention. Rest. I'll call you when she's ready. We just moved to a different hospital, and that was exhausting enough."

He hangs up before Kuina can argue. Baya doesn't react to the conversation. She's still lying in bed, sitting against a pile of pillows that Chishiya arranged for her earlier. Her body is drained. Chishiya comes over without saying anything and sits beside her again, close enough that their knees brush. Their daughter is nestled between his arms. Swaddled tightly in a blanket, her tiny form is almost motionless.

Baya's eyes shift to the bundle in his arms. She lifts a hand slowly. Not even a word, just a tiny motion, fingers lifting like they weigh ten pounds each.

"You want her back?"

She gives a tiny nod. He adjusts his grip carefully and bends to lower the baby into Baya's waiting arms. He keeps one hand under the baby's back the whole time, until her fragile body is safely cradled against her mother's chest.

Baya closes her eyes. Her nose brushes against the baby's head. She presses her lips to her daughter's forehead, her cheek, her tiny nose. She kisses gently, endlessly, desperately. She sways a little. Back and forth. Slowly. Her fingers stroke the baby's blanket. She laughs a little, but it breaks halfway through, and turns into a whimper. "You're so small. I can't believe you were inside me. And you hurt me so bad, but I'd do it again. I'd do it again. I'd do it again." Her voice is high and shaky, yet steady too. Like she needs to say it out loud to believe it.

For a long time, neither of them speaks. The baby sleeps in Baya's arms. Her tiny fingers twitch against her mother's chest. The monitors beep slowly. The IV drips. The light shifts on the walls.

Chishiya brushes some hair from Baya's cheek. "You want water?"

She nods.

He gets up, walks across the room, and brings her a cup. Holds it for her while she drinks from the straw, then sets it down again. Then he sits back, watching.

The hours pass. Nurses come in and out, checking vitals, updating, and adjusting drips. The newborn girl sleeps for long stretches, tucked safely against Baya's chest, while Baya rests. Chishiya stays near, watching, waiting, adjusting her pillows without comment, tucking her hair behind her ear, and refilling her cup before she asks.

"Your blood pressure's a little more stable now. If you feel okay, we can help you up," a nurse says. 

"Okay," she says unsurely.

The nurse takes the baby from Baya and puts her back down in the incubator while Chishiya moves to the edge of the bed and crouches down a little, one hand brushing Baya's arm lightly. "We'll go slow."

Baya's hands tremble a little as she tries to push herself up. Her whole body protests the movement. Chishiya catches her under the arms, never letting her drop more than a few inches as he helps her swing her legs over the edge of the bed. He doesn't fill the silence with encouragements or flattery. That's not him. But his hands never leave her. One steady at her lower back. One curled under her arm. As they reach the bathroom, he flips the switch with his elbow and helps her shower.

Several days later, Hana's sneakers squeak slightly with every step on the hospital floor, and Kaoru walks beside her. Her heart thumps so loudly it feels like it's in her throat. She can barely contain herself. It's been forever. She wants to throw open the door, but Kaoru puts a hand out to stop her.

"We knock," he says, like Aguni, who's waiting outside in the car, told them to.

"Okay," Hana whispers back, bouncing on her toes.

Kaoru knocks once. Chishiya opens the door only to get attacked with a tight hug from Hana, followed by a small smile from Kaoru.

Inside, the light is dim. A blanket is folded over Baya's legs, and her hair is loosely tied back, a little frizzy. Before another second passes, Hana bolts. She nearly knocks over the IV pole in her race to Baya's side. Kaoru flinches at the sound of it rattling before he closes the door behind him and walks more carefully across the floor.

Hana climbs onto the edge of the bed before anyone can stop her and wraps her arms around Baya's shoulders, squeezing hard. "I missed you so much," she says in one breath, burying her face in Baya's neck. "I thought you were gonna die."

"I'm okay now," Baya says, wrapping her arms around Hana's back. She kisses the top of her daughter's head. "I missed you more."

Kaoru hangs back a little at the foot of the bed. He looks down at her IV, the tubes, and the monitor's heartbeat line. His hand moves near his chest. It's too loud in his brain.

Baya sees him. Holds out her hand gently. Kaoru walks over and takes it. "Hey," Baya whispers. "I'm so happy you're here."

Kaoru doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, "Me, too."

After a few minutes of hugging and shifting around so Baya can sit up straighter, Hana finally blurts out what's been bouncing on the tip of her tongue since they walked in: "Can we meet the baby now?!"

Baya and Chishiya exchange a look. She nods slightly. "She's still in the NICU," Baya explains. "Because she's so little, but the nurses said you can see her today, just for a few minutes. We'll all go together, okay?"

They make the walk slowly, Chishiya pushing Baya in a wheelchair while the kids trail behind.

The NICU is calm. Beeping machines. Nurses speaking quietly. The walls are a soft pink— the entirety of the room is more comforting than every inch of the other hospital.

Chishiya stops in front of an incubator. Inside is the smallest person either child has ever seen. Tubes in her nose. A paper-thin blanket across her chest.

Hana stares, wide-eyed. Kaoru's face goes blank.

"She looks like a peanut," Hana says. "Or a bean. Or, like, one of those little hamsters. She's so cute! But... very pink."

Kaoru says nothing, but lingers for a long while. On the way back to Baya's room, she reaches out and touches Hana's hand.

"I know your birthday's coming up," she says gently. "I don't know yet how I or your sister will be doing, but I promise we'll do something nice. Even if it's just the four of us, and a cake, and bad decorations."

Hana beams. "I don't care what it is. I just want it with you."

Kaoru still doesn't say anything until they're back in the other room. Then, quietly, he tells Baya, "I'll help with everything."

Baya kisses his cheek.

●・○・●・○・●

By the time it's Hana's thirteenth birthday—March twenty-five—, Baya feels a lot better. As long as she doesn't walk around too much, she feels good. Their youngest daughter, still unnamed, hasn't been able to leave the NICU yet, but is also going strong.

In the morning, Hana got birthday presents from her family (real make up, gift cards, edible glitter, and a fancy phone case), and basically the same bundle from her school friends (she asked for these things specifically).

Later, after dinner, the rest of the 'family' comes over, along with Kiyoshi: Kuina, Aguni, Ann, Heiya, Nozomi, Arisu, Usagi, Kaede, and Miyu.

Hana gets more gift cards and money. More make up. More glittery clothes. Kiyoshi brings her flowers made out of candy and a simple instant camera, with a picture of Hana herself already printed and taped to a pink birthday card.

Kaede has been practically pacing around all week. He wanted to impress Hana, but not take Kiyoshi's efforts down, or stand out in the first place. He wanted something special.

Now he shuffles his feet near the couch, clutching something tightly in both hands.

Hana is laughing in the kitchen with Kiyoshi and Kuina when Kaoru nudges her. "Hey. He's gonna explode if you don't go talk to him."

She blinks, glancing over at Kaede, who startles and turns away a little when their eyes meet.

"Oh, oh. Right," she says, already on her way. Hana stops in front of him, grinning. "You okay? You look like you're about to throw up."

"I'm fine," he lies. "It's for you." He thrusts the package toward her without grace. "Happy birthday."

Her grin softens into something sweeter. She takes it carefully, then sits down on the arm of the couch to unwrap it while he nervously remains standing.

Inside is a handmade bracelet. Glassy beads spell her name in silver between little blue and pink flowers. There's also a small, folded watercolor paper. She opens it. It's a sketch of her with her baby sister in the NICU.

"I didn't know what to give you," he mumbles. "I know you already have all the stuff you like, and Kiyoshi got you really cool things, so— I just... made something. It's okay if you don't wear the bracelet. It's kind of silly."

Hana stares at it. Then up at him. She smiles widely, revealing her gum line and all. "It's not silly! I love it! Thank you." She puts the bracelet on right there. It dangles just a little too loosely around her wrist."And the drawing's amazing. How did you even—? You remembered exactly what her little hat looked like."

He shrugs. "I just... remembered."

Hana stares at it like it's made of gold. "This is, like, perfect."

"Yeah?"

She nods, then suddenly hugs him, hard. Kaede freezes. He wants to stay there forever. But then he sees Kiyoshi looking over, smiling. Not mad. Not jealous. Just kind. Kaede hesitantly waves at him before he pulls away from Hana.

"I'm really glad you came," Hana says.

"I'm really glad you were born," Kaede says before he can stop himself.

There's a beat of silence. Hana blinks. Then she grins, giggling. "That's, like, the sappiest thing I've ever heard. I love it."

Kaede smiles weakly. "Yeah, eh... cool."

Hana leans over and presses a sparkly pink sticker onto his cheek. "Tell me what you want for your birthday soon. It's also nearing."

"I just want you to come."

"I shall," she says with mock politeness. "See you soon, Kaede! I'm gonna eat cake. Tell me if you want a piece."

He nods, smiles, and turns around to walk back to his original spot in the living room. Behind him, he hears Hana tell Kiyoshi 'Look how cute this bracelet is' and that's when Kaede forgets there is a carpet below him, and he trips over the edge, falling face-first onto his father's lap.

"Oh my gosh." He peeps as he pulls away, entire face red. "Sorry, Dad."

Nozomi scowls from her position. "Ka-ede! You should've bitten. Look at what he keeps on doing." She points at Usagi's belly.

Arisu's ears go red immediately. "I—uh, that's not..."

"Nozomi," Usagi interrupts quickly, her hand resting protectively over her belly, "it's not your business."

"It is my business!" Nozomi points an accusing finger. "This is baby number three! Three! Ryohei's out here collecting children like Pokémon and you're just smiling through it like it's normal!"

"I am smiling through it," Usagi says. "Because it is normal. For us. We're happy."

"Happy doesn't mean responsible—"

Usagi stands and claps her hands once. "Alright. Birthday cake in five minutes. Someone get a knife."

"Don't let Nozomi hold it," Arisu mutters.

"I heard that!" Nozomi snaps.

"You were supposed to!" Arisu yells back.

"I'm glad you know what I would do with it!Because I'm going to be the one helping Yuzuha chase after two toddlers while he has a gaming headset on! He has the same expression for winning Mario Kart and impregnating his wife. It's unsettling!"

Ann snorts into her drink. Kuina, half-laughing, tries to quiet her cackle while still nudging Heiya.

"To be fair, their kids are really cute. Look at how sweet Kaede is." Baya points at the boy, who's still dazzled from his interaction with Hana.

"That's not the point!" Nozomi exclaims, clearly spiraling. "The point is, some of us are just trying to enjoy a piece of cake without picturing Arisu's foolish face while—"

"Nozomi!" Kuina cuts in, horrified.

Heiya coughs awkwardly. "Can we just... not imagine that in general?"

"How are any of us qualified to be raising children?"

"We're not. We're absolutely not."

●・○・●・○・●

It's early evening, almost May, when Baya and Chishiya finally leave the hospital with their daughter.

Baya sits in the backseat with the baby tucked carefully into a newborn car seat beside her. She glances at her daughter every few seconds, hand hovering. Chishiya drives. One hand on the wheel, the other occasionally resting on the gear shift. He's silent for most of the drive.

It's a peaceful route. Pink cherry blossoms are still bursting open. Their petals gather in corners of the sidewalks, stuck between stones, drifting along the breeze. Baya turns to look through the window, chin resting near the baby's car seat.

"That's so beautiful," she murmurs.

Chishiya glances into the mirror. "Hm?"

She doesn't answer right away. Her eyes follow a gust of wind stirring blossoms through the air. "Look," she says, pointing with a soft smile.

He glances to the right, where a cluster of trees are shedding pink. He nods once. "It's a good day for them."

Baya's hand curls near the baby's seat. She touches the blanket with her fingertips. Her lips part. "What if we named her Sakiko? Saki, like blossom. Ko for child. Not too delicate, but soft enough."

"Hm," Chishiya hums, long and thoughtful. "It suits her."

She smiles. "Sakiko," she tries again, this time saying it to the baby. The name floats in the car for a while. It feels natural.

●・○・●・○・●

When they arrive, the sun is already dipping behind the trees. Inside the house, Hana and Kaoru are waiting to finally see their sister again. And this time, to actually hold her.

Hana hears the car first. She sprints to the door and flings it open so hard it bangs into the wall. Kaoru is only a few steps behind, trying to act cool but failing with the way he peers over her shoulder, eyes wide.

Baya hobbles out of the car with Chishiya's hand under her elbow, his other arm holding Sakiko in a carrier.

Once inside, Hana immediately asks, "Can I hold her?"

"Hands clean?" Chishiya says.

She runs inside immediately to wash them, yelling, "Don't do anything without me!"

Kaoru stays where he is, inching closer slowly. He peers down at the baby with a look of scientific curiosity. "Her fingers are still so tiny."

"She'll break you if you're not careful," Chishiya says flatly.

Kaoru makes a face. "I'm not scared of a baby."

"She almost broke your mother," Chishiya says.

Baya laughs softly.

Hana returns with clean hands and immediately plants herself on the floor beside the bassinet, watching the baby breathe for now.

Kaoru watches from a distance for a long while. He's not one to ask. He never is. He's always hanging at the edge of things, not because he's not curious or invested, but because he takes the world in through small pieces. And Sakiko, even more than most things, is new. Her face is red and soft, and her hands twitch sometimes when she's dreaming. She makes these tiny gasping sounds every now and then, even when she's asleep.

Eventually, Kaoru steps forward. "Can I... try holding her?" he asks.

Baya's face lifts immediately. She brightens. "Of course."

Hana looks up. "Be careful. She's like... squishy. But not in a good way."

Kaoru nods.

Baya shifts carefully, then lifts Sakiko from the bassinet. She cradles her daughter against her chest for a moment longer than necessary. It's hard to let go, even briefly, even to someone she trusts. But eventually, she turns her body a little and guides Kaoru.

"Sit," she says gently, gesturing to the couch.

Kaoru obeys. He sinks down, back stiff, arms close to his body.

"You need to support her head," Baya murmurs. "Always. She can't hold it up yet."

"I know," Kaoru says. He's been reading. He wouldn't have asked if he wasn't ready.

Still, Baya moves slowly, easing Sakiko into his arms. Kaoru cradles his baby sister with both arms, elbows in tight, shoulders tense. She shifts a little and breathes out, the sound so small it barely exists.

He doesn't move. He barely breathes. His heart is pounding but steady. There's something strange about the weight of Sakiko in his arms.

Her cheek rests against the inside of his forearm. He can feel her warmth through his shirt. Her tiny body radiates heat like the sun. Her breath comes in little irregular puffs, and he focuses on those—counts them, listens, matches them with his own. He's grounding himself the way he's learned to. Five things he sees. Four he can touch. Three he can hear.

Later, the pressure of Sakiko' body against his shirt starts to itch a little. The sensation of fleece against fleece, of weight shifting unpredictably, of baby warmth under one arm and the slightly damp slickness of her cheek through the fabric... each detail grows more noticeable.

Kaoru's senses are wired to respond to imbalance. To wrong textures. To unexpected movement. And he tries, he tries so hard, not to notice it. Not to think about it. Not to overreact.

He shifts slightly. The movement causes Sakiko to stir just a bit. Her tiny fingers twitch, brushing against the edge of his sleeve. He freezes. The brush of her skin makes something spike in the back of his mind.

It's not her fault. It's not even bad. It's just too much. He clenches his jaw. Forces his hands to stay steady. Counts again. Breathes in. Breathes out.

But it gets worse. It all starts to stack, one on top of another, like weights until he feels himself locking up under them.

Still, he doesn't say anything. He won't. He doesn't ruin things.

So he forces himself to focus on her. On her tiny face, her nose, the barely-there lashes. He shifts her again, ever so gently, like maybe adjusting her weight will make it easier. But it doesn't help. Her warmth spreads up his arm. His sleeve rides up. The edge of the blanket slips against the inside of his elbow and— he blinks hard, eyes stinging. He looks away from everyone, biting the inside of his cheek.

He's going to panic if he doesn't put her down soon. He knows it. The static in the back of his head is starting.

"Kaoru."

Kaoru doesn't look up.

Chishiya waits for another second. Then says, without judgment, "That's enough."

Kaoru's throat tightens."I'm fine," he lies.

Chishiya doesn't answer. He moves toward the couch, crouches, and gently reaches his hands toward Sakiko. She is lifted from his arms with ease. She makes a soft sound, stirs, then sighs against her father's chest as he repositions her.

The moment Kaoru's arms are free, he pulls them in against his stomach. He curls forward, fingers twisting, and closes his eyes. Breathes out. Once. Twice.

Baya watches. She doesn't rush to comfort him, only reaches over and gently places a hand on his back.

Chishiya settles Sakiko into the bassinet beside Hana, who instantly adjusts the blankets.

"You did well," is all Chishiya says.

●・○・●・○・●

Later than evening, Kaoru is on the living room floor, his back leaned up against the couch, knees bent, arms resting across them. He has headphones on and cards spread in front of him.

Hana comes in, an empty glass of juice in one hand. "Hey," she says softly, stepping in and sitting down beside him. She's always been better at talking than listening. Better at understanding her own feelings than others'.

He glances at her sideways, then slips one ear of the headphones off. "Hey."

"You okay?"

Kaoru gives a short nod. "Yeah."

A pause.

"I'm not trying to, like... poke at something," she says quickly, before she can talk herself out of it. "But earlier. With the baby. I just... can I ask something?"

"Yeah."

"Was it your sensory thing?"

"Yeah."

Hana nods, but her brows furrow. "I mean, I know you have it. But sometimes I don't really... get it. I want to. I just don't."

He doesn't answer right away. He picks at the hem of his pants for a second, then leans his head back against the couch. "Yeah," he says. "I know."

"I always thought it just meant you hated loud noises and stuff."

"That's part of it."

"But you had no problem when Sakiko cried earlier."

"Crying is different. It's... predictable."

"How is it predictable?"

"Because it follows a pattern. Babies cry. They inhale, they wail, they stop, they start again. It's not random. It's loud, yeah, but my brain can track it. It knows what to expect. And I can prepare."

She sits with that for a second. "But holding her was different?"

"It's the textures. The heat. The way she moved. It's not just loudness or brightness. It's... touch. Temperature. Even smell sometimes. It's when those things are too much or come in all at once and my brain doesn't filter it right."

"So it's like your brain doesn't... put things in the right folders?"

"Yeah, kind of. Imagine every sense is a tab on your computer. And instead of switching between them, they all pop open at once. And they start glitching. That's what it's like."

Hana frowns. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes. Not like getting hit or anything. It's more like... when your teeth itch."

"...my teeth have never itched."

"Exactly," he says. "It doesn't make sense. But it feels wrong, and it doesn't stop until you get away from the thing causing it."

"Is that not... more like, you know, autism?"

"Sort of," he says again. "They're different, but they can overlap."

"So you have autism?"

"I've been evaluated," he says plainly. "Mostly just sensory processing disorder. But I have a couple traits, I guess."

"Like what?"

He counts on his fingers. "I stim sometimes. Mostly when I'm overwhelmed. I don't like eye contact if I'm not in the right mood. I hate sudden change. I memorize really specific things. I get super fixated on topics, like cards."

"That's just being a nerd."

Kaoru rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

She softens. "I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"I know."

"But SPD is... different from autism?"

"Yeah. SPD is mostly about how my nervous system processes input. It's like... I don't have the same 'volume knob' for the world as other people. Either it's too low or way too high."

Hana chews on her lower lip. "That sounds exhausting."

Kaoru shrugs. "I've never known anything else. It's just how I am."

Another silence stretches between them.

"I'm sorry," Hana says at last. "Sometimes I act like you're being dramatic. Or like you should just push through it. I think I thought if I can deal with loudness or hot rooms or itchy tags, then you should be able to too."

Kaoru tilts his head. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." She glances at him. "I think I just got jealous sometimes. When Mom and Dad gave you more attention. Or when they'd be careful not to overwhelm you, but they'd get annoyed at me for being loud."

He stares down at his hands. "I didn't want more attention," he says quietly.

"I know. I think," she says slowly, "I was trying to prove that I could be 'easy.' But then I got mad when no one noticed that I was trying."

Kaoru looks over at her. "Yeah," he says. "That makes sense."

Hana reaches over and nudges his shoulder with hers. "You were really good with Sakiko."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

"I almost dropped her."

"You didn't. And you noticed when you had to stop. That's important too."

He shrugs.

"You're a good big brother," she says. "Even if you're the sensitive one."

"Sensitive? You cried when you stepped on a bee two years ago."

"I was eleven!"

"You wrote a poem about it."

"I'll write one about you next."

"Please don't."

They both laugh.

A minute later, Kaoru is the one to speak next. "You know," he says, voice quieter than before, "sometimes I wish it was just autism."

Hana turns her head toward him, puzzled.

"I mean... like, that it had a name people actually recognize. People get what autism is. Sort of. They've heard about it. They think of characters from TV or people they know. But when I say I have SPD, people just blink. Or worse, think I'm just being dramatic or picky."

Hana listens. Really listens. For once, she doesn't jump in too fast.

"It's like... if you have a broken leg, people know what that is. You wear a cast, they hold doors open for you. But when you've got something in your brain that's wired different, especially when it looks invisible... they just think you're being difficult. And I get it. It's hard to see. I look normal. I can go to school. I can carry conversations. I'm not rocking back and forth in a corner or melting down in the hallway. So people just think I'm fine."

"You're not fine?" Hana ask.

"I mean... sometimes I am. Sometimes I'm great. But other times—" He breaks off for a second, choosing his words. "Other times, it's like the world is just too loud. Not just sound. Like, emotionally. Like the volume of everything is turned up too high and I can't turn it down." He looks at her, then away. "And it's exhausting. Because I don't want to be a problem. I don't want to ask for special treatment. But if I pretend to be 'normal' all the time, I get burnt out. And then I snap. Or shut down. Or cry in my room and don't tell anyone."

Hana's chest hurts a little hearing that. "I didn't know you cried," she says.

He exhales through his nose, a dry smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I'm not a robot."

"I never thought you were," Hana defends quickly. "I just thought you were... private."

Kaoru just nods once.

She looks down at her fingers. "...I don't think I always know how to talk to you," she admits. "I talk a lot. You don't. I'm loud. You're not. You like things quiet and controlled, and I'm like... the opposite of that."

That gets a tiny laugh from him, which feels like winning a medal.

"But I want to try," she says. "Like really try."

"I want that too," he says quietly. "But I might need you to ask questions instead of assuming. And to be okay with silence sometimes. Or when I don't have the right words right away."

"I can do that," Hana says, determined. "And you can tell me when I mess up. You don't have to suck it up just to keep the peace."

"Deal."

She smiles.

"And maybe... I could tell you about how it feels in my head sometimes?" she offers. "Not like, to compare. Just to... understand each other better."

Kaoru nods. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Well," she begins, drawing in a breath, "my brain is like... a swarm of bees. But they're wearing little backpacks full of ideas. And they don't land, they just keep flying around all the time, bumping into each other. Sometimes they make honey, sometimes they sting me, and sometimes they just won't shut up."

Kaoru blinks. Then laughs. "That's the weirdest metaphor I've ever heard."

"It's my brain," she says proudly.

He smiles again, fuller this time. The tension in his shoulders eases. "I think we're both weird."

"I wouldn't want to be normal anyway."

They fall silent again.

"You want to hold Sakiko again tomorrow?" Hana asks after a while.

Kaoru thinks about it. "Maybe," he says. "But only for a few minutes."

"Fair," she says. "I'll tell Mom."

"Thanks."

She yawns, stretching her arms overhead. "I like her name," she says. "Sakiko. It fits her."

"It does," Kaoru agrees. "She's soft like blossoms."

"You're good at metaphors too," she murmurs.

"Only when I try."

Hana shifts on the couch, tucking her legs up and resting her chin on her knees. "What do you think goes on in Mom's head? She's like... warm on the outside. But also always tired. And her brain always seems to be a step ahead of everything."

Kaoru considers this, then gives a slow nod. "Yeah. Like she's hugging you and cooking dinner and worrying about something all at once. I think her brain probably never stops working. Like one of those trains. It can't ever stop completely, because if it did, everything behind it would crash."

Hana blinks. "Whoa. That's so true."

They're quiet again. Hana pulls a blanket over her lap and wraps it around her knees. "And Dad?" she wonders.

"Dad's brain is... different."

"Way different," Hana agrees. "Like he's got a map in his head that nobody else can read."

Kaoru nods. "I don't think he ever stops observing."

"And then he chooses not to say stuff back," Hana says. "Like... strategically."

"Exactly. I think his brain is super loud, but he's built all these walls and compartments. Like everything in his head has a label and a drawer. And he opens them carefully, one at a time."

That image settles into her. "I think that's why he's so good with... dangerous stuff," she says. "Or serious stuff. Like when Mom gave birth. He was calm, right? Until he got angry at the hospital."

Kaoru nods. "He stores feelings somewhere else first. Like he sets them down, does what he has to do, and then maybe picks them up later."

"Do you think we got any of that from him?"

"You didn't."

She laughs. "Rude!"

"You didn't," he says again, but not unkindly. "You feel everything. And it's not stored in drawers. It's all on display."

"Okay, but you kinda did," Hana says. "You do that thing where you go quiet and you analyze everything in your head before you answer. And sometimes you don't answer at all."

"But I didn't get the organization. I just got the overload."

"And I got Dad's... stubbornness?" Hana tries.

"You definitely got Mom's loudness," Kaoru says, smiling a little.

"True," Hana says, then more seriously: "Do you think they care about us the same way?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like... do they love us equally? Even though we're different?"

"I think they do. But maybe not in the same style."

Hana is quiet, letting that sink in.

"Mom loves with her hands," Kaoru says. "She touches, she checks, she makes sure. She's loud about it. She reminds us. She hugs. She repeats herself. Dad loves with his attention. He watches. He remembers little things. He notices when something's off, even if he doesn't say anything."

Hana looks at the ceiling for a moment, then back to him. "So... I guess I got Mom's style. And you got Dad's."

Kaoru smiles faintly. "Yeah. I think so."

"And that's why we don't always understand each other."

"Exactly."

Another pause.

"I wonder what Sakiko will be like," Hana says. "Who she'll be more like."

"She's already really quiet," Kaoru notes.

"Yeah, but she's a baby. She can't talk yet."

"She has expressive eyes, though."

"She does," Hana agrees. "You think she'll be closer to you or me?"

Kaoru considers. "Probably you. You're more direct. You'll help her with art and braiding hair and sleepovers and whatever."

"But you'll help her when she doesn't know how to explain her feelings," Hana says. "When she's overwhelmed. Or when everyone else talks too loud."

"Maybe," Kaoru says.

"You're good at that," she insists. "At comforting."

"Thanks." He pauses. "I wonder what parts of us... they didn't expect."

"Huh?"

"Like... I know they know us really well. But when we were born, they couldn't have predicted all the little things we'd be. Like me hating the texture of that orange sweater. Or how you used to cry every time a cartoon animal got hurt."

"I still cry when cartoon animals get hurt," Hana mumbles. "But yeah," she adds, more seriously, "I think about that too."

"I think Mom thought we'd be super close when we were younger. Like... twins, almost. And we're not. We're not even close in personality."

"True," Hana says. "I always wanted to be around people. You were always trying to get away from them."

"And you talk a lot."

"You think that surprised them?"

"Probably not that." Kaoru shrugs. "But maybe how deep you are. People think you're just loud and dramatic. But you feel stuff like... all the way through."

Hana stares at him, surprised. "That's... actually kind of nice. Thanks."

Kaoru shrugs again, looking at the floor. "I just mean... I think you came out of the womb already caring about stuff."

Hana makes a face. "Ew. Kaoru. Gross image."

"Sorry," he mutters, though he looks mildly entertained.

"But yeah, okay," she adds. "I guess I thought you'd grow out of being so quiet. But it's just how you are. And maybe it's good you didn't change. I used to think you didn't like people. But now I get that it's not that. It's just... people are a lot. Like, too much at once."

"They are," Kaoru agrees. "But you're not."

She looks at him.

"You're not too much," he says softly. "Even when you're being loud. You're still my sister."

Hana stares for a second too long, then wipes her eye with the edge of her sleeve and wraps her arms around him. "You're not too little."

●・○・●・○・●

🂱 A/N: How much would y'all hate me if I just time skip to where they're about 15/16

Or is there any character you'd like to read specific things about before I skip ahead?

I mean, once Hana and Kaede are 16, the story will be flowing more smoothly (like I said before, in Sweven), and the events all lead up to each other instead of whatever these current fragments are.

Also, I only now found out that it's not as normal to have three kids as I thought it was? In my country, most families have 3 kids and it's not considered 'a lot', so I was surprised to see all the comments about Baya and Chishiya/Arisu and Usagi having 3 kids.

Any ideas on what Sakiko will be like?

And for the people who keep worrying about this, spoiler, no, the young kids (Miyu, Sakiko, Souta) will not be going into the Borderlands.

I'm not even 100% sure if the parents will go. I did make an edit of a game with Baya, Chishiya, Hana, and Kaoru together, but like, they're getting older and they deserve their peace. Would you guys be okay with that? I can also add them to a few games, but not all of them. Whatever the majority prefers, I guess.

Stay tuned for Kaede's boxing adventures, a certain friend he'll get, and of course, don't forget the paper cranes 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

(And Chishiya's love for burning people. Which, honestly, has been valid so far and dare I say, will almost be valid when he tries to do it again)

I'm just so excited to write 16/17 year old Kaede, omg.

Anygays how do y'all think Hana and Kiyoshi will break up (spoiler; he's not a bad guy, thank you 🙏)

Stay safe and sane and naked!!