Nagisa stirred awake, her eyes fluttering open. The muffled cries of a newborn filled the air, persistent and helpless. She just stared at the ceiling, her body feeling foreign and numb.
The nurse stepped in, holding the infant. “She’s hungry,” the nurse informed softly, approaching Nagisa’s bedside with a warm smile. “Would you like to breastfeed her?”
Nagisa didn’t move. Her arms remained still by her sides.
“She needs her mother,” the nurse coaxed gently. But then Nagisa’s eyes snapped to her, wide and bloodshot. “Are you stupid?” she hissed.
“I... I’m sorry?”
“You think I can hold a baby after waking up from that?!” Her voice rose. “Do you know what they did to me?! I was cut open like meat!”
Yuto stood up from the corner of the room, startled. “Nagisa—”
“Don’t ‘Nagisa’ me!” she spat, glaring at both of them. “You think I want to see that baby now?!”
The nurse tried to soothe her. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed—”
“Shut up!” she shrieked. “Don’t you dare pity me. You don’t know anything!”
The nurse apologized quickly, nodding and backing away, visibly shaken. Yuto walked over to take the baby from her arms.
“I’ll prepare a bottle,” the nurse mumbled before hurrying out.
Yuto held Y/n close, trying to rock her, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Nagisa. She had turned her face toward the wall, panting hard, her hands gripping the sheets.
“Do you want me to take her out for now? Just until you feel better?”
Nagisa turned, her eyes locking onto the baby. In that moment, Yuto felt it. The look in her eyes wasn’t exhaustion.
It was hatred. Pure, undeniable hatred.
Yuto clutched Y/n closer, instinctively shielding her.
“Get her out of here!” Nagisa screamed. “I don’t want to see her face! Get out, both of you!”
Yuto flinched. He had never seen his wife like this. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. He walked out, the newborn sobbing against his chest.
As the door shut behind him, Yuto leaned his back against it, tightening his hold on Y/n.
“She didn’t mean it... Mama didn’t mean it...”
She was traumatized. The childbirth experience traumatized her. She will come back to her sense soon, he thought.
The house echoed with the cries of a newborn, the shuffle of tired feet on hardwood floors, and the lullabies Yuto hummed at midnight to soothe his daughter.
Nagisa stayed in the guest room now. It wasn’t spoken of. It just happened.
After they were discharged from the hospital, Yuto had tried. God, he tried. He brought her warm meals to bed, spoke gently even when her words became harsh. But no matter what he did, she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look at the child.
Y/n was three weeks old now, tiny fists always moving, head heavy and wobbly, her cries cutting through the early hours. Yuto was the one to get up every time. He held her when she screamed. He fed her from a bottle. He changed every diaper. He never complained. Not even when Renzou dropped by and saw it all firsthand.
Yuto had just finished changing Y/n when Renzou knocked and let himself in, carrying bags of groceries. “You’re here again?” Yuto asked, not unkindly, bouncing his daughter over his shoulder.
“Of course. Dealing with newborn isn't easy job, especially for new parents.” Renzou answered casually, but his eyes scanned the house with subtle judgment. “You look like hell.”
Yuto smiled tiredly. “I’m doing okay.”
“Where’s Nagisa?”
“In her room. Sleeping, I think.”
Renzou didn’t push. But over the next hour, as he helped Yuto sterilize bottles and fold baby clothes, he noticed what wasn’t being said.
Nagisa never once stepped out. No curious peek at the baby. No passing glance at her husband holding their child.
When Yuto turned away for a moment to answer a text, Renzou caught the whisper he didn’t mean to hear.
“Papa’s got you,” Yuto murmured, swaying Y/n lovingly. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart.”
Nagisa’s behavior hadn’t improved since she came home. In fact, it worsened. She refused to hold Y/n, let alone feed her. On bad days, she screamed at the baby for crying too much, calling her a parasite, a selfish monster who ruined her body, her beauty, her life.
Yuto never raised his voice back. He simply picked up his daughter, rocked her, and whispered apologies into her hair.
“She doesn’t mean it,” he would say. “She’s sick right now.”
He’d known something was wrong from the start. This wasn't just exhaustion. It wasn’t temporary frustration. So he hired a therapist. He begged Nagisa to go.
She did. Twice.
She came home angrier, saying the woman didn’t understand, that the therapist made her feel guilty for being honest about hating her own child.
The next appointment, she never showed up.
Now Yuto didn’t know what to do. Every day felt like a balancing act—holding his marriage together with one hand and his daughter with the other.
Yet, when he looked at Y/n, her tiny face squished against his chest, he never regretted becoming a father. Even if he felt like he was doing it alone.
Despite the storm that never seemed to end, Yuto still found little suns that warmed him.
Each morning, no matter how sleepless the night had been, he took a photo of Y/n. Sometimes she was yawning, sometimes crying mid-snap, or staring at him with those unfocused, newborn eyes that still made his heart squeeze.
He dated every single one. Wrote little notes on the back; “First hiccup today!” or “Didn’t poop for 2 days, made me panic.”
They were silly, but they were his treasures.
Tonight, the house was quiet. Y/n had fallen asleep early, her chest rising and falling. Yuto sat on the floor of her nursery, a lamp glowing beside him, sorting through the printed photos he'd finally gotten developed.
He smiled down at a photo of Y/n with her lips puckered, asleep with her arm curled like a little boxer.
“Your fighting pose, huh?” he chuckled to the image. He placed it carefully into the album under a tab labeled “Week 3.”
Each page was filled with victories. Her first bottle feed, her first time grabbing his finger, her first smile, or what he hoped was one.
He hadn’t shown the album to anyone. Not even Renzou, or Minato. It was his sacred thing. A record of a life he was building from scratch, sometimes with love, sometimes through tears, but always with devotion.
Then, behind him, Y/n stirred, a small sound. He turned, smiled, and walked over to the crib, peeking in.
“What kind of dream are you having right now, I wonder..” he whispered. He bent down, placed a kiss on her forehead. “We’re okay, right? Just the two of us.”
He returned to the album and added one last photo from today. Y/n wrapped in a towel after her bath, her hair damp, her eyes bright. Below it, he wrote,
"Day 24. You looked at me like you knew I was yours."
Even when everything else was falling apart, she was his light.
Eventually, Minato visited.
Yuto had texted him days before, "If you’re free, come by. Y/n’s growing fast."
Minato hadn’t replied right away but tonight, he showed up. He carried a modest gift bag in one hand. But Yuto, despite the dark circles under his eyes and the mismatched socks, greeted him warmly.
“Hey, you came. Thanks.”
Minato stepped inside, glancing around the place. It looked lived-in; baby bottles drying by the sink, a lullaby playing from the nursery monitor.
“You are a wreck,” Minato muttered dryly. Yuto gave a breathless chuckle. “I feel like one. But she’s worth it.”
He didn’t mention Nagisa. Minato noticed that; the quietness, the absence of footsteps from another adult. But he didn't comment on it. He handed over the gift. “Just some baby stuff. Clothes. Rattles. Nothing big.”
“Still means a lot. Thanks.” Yuto gave a genuine smile, crinkling his tired eyes. Minato looked around, arms folding. “So... where’s the kid?”
Yuto led him toward the nursery. She was in her crib, bundled up, snoring with one fist curled beside her cheek.
Minato stared at her. “...She got your features.”
“You mean ours? She’s our other twin.”
Minato didn’t respond, but he didn’t deny it either. Yuto crouched beside the crib, adjusting the blanket on Y/n’s chest. He looked up, eyes shining with pride.
“The daughter born after three generations of only sons... she’s a blessing, indeed. My miracle baby.”
Minato said nothing, just stared at her. Suddenly, Yuto's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his smile fading as he read the message. It was from Takumi.
An emergency meeting with his subordinates, something he couldn’t ignore.
He sighed heavily and looked at Minato with guilt in his eyes. “Sorry... I gotta go handle something. Just for a while. Think you could watch over Y/n?”
Minato blinked. “Me?”
“I already fed her, she just needs to be watched. She should nap for a bit, but if she cries, you can rock her a little, or hum. She likes soft noises,” Yuto clarified, already gathering his coat. “Diapers are in that cabinet. Wipes next to them. I shouldn’t be gone long.”
Minato didn’t protest, just nodded once, curtly. Yuto gave a quick, grateful pat to his shoulder before heading out the door.
Minato turned his gaze to the sleeping infant. She stirred in her crib, a whimper escaping her lips. He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.
He leaned down and picked her up, cradling her against his chest. Minato muttered under his breath, “What a fool he is. Fucking fool.”
With Y/n in his arms, he made his way down the hall, stopping in front of the closed door.
Nagisa’s room.
He opened it without knocking.
Nagisa turned sharply. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was. “What the hell are you doing here?! Get out!” she snapped, panic rang in her voice.
But Minato walked closer. “Is she mine? She is, right?” he asked, eyes never leaving hers.
Nagisa clenched her fists, her breaths uneven. She reached out suddenly, grabbing the front of his shirt. Her voice broke as she hissed, “Why... why would you do this to me? Why would you make me carry that little mistake?”
“I was helping you get what you wanted most. Yuto’s happiness.” His hand rose, caressing her cheek. Her skin went cold under his touch.
“You and him wanted a happy little family, right? Now you have it.”
Nagisa shook her head violently, her grip on his shirt tightening. “No, I don’t! I can’t do this—I can’t live like this! Please... you tell him. Tell Yuto. End this lie.”
Minato looked down at the baby in his arms. Y/n yawned, her fist brushing against his chest.
“You tell him,” he retorted coldly. “If that’s what you want. But me? I’m fine playing house with the both of you.”
He turned and walked out, leaving Nagisa shaking, alone again with her guilt.
A few more weeks passed..
Y/n was now three months old.
Her fingers could curl around Yuto’s thumb. Her giggles came a little more often. Even if her cries still pierced the nights, Yuto had grown used to fatherhood. It was exhausting, but he never complained, not once.
He had also grown used to Nagisa’s absence in their daughter’s life. It ached, yet he never let it show. He shielded Y/n from that coldness, and he never stopped loving his wife. Every morning, he left little notes on her bedside table. You’re doing amazing. You’re still the woman I love. We’re in this together.
But nothing helped her bond with Y/n. Nothing softened the hostility in Nagisa’s gaze, the way she avoided the baby, the flinching recoil whenever Y/n reached out to her.
Until this week. A small change.
Nagisa, still sullen, asked, “Do I still produce milk?”
Yuto had blinked at her, stunned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You... want to try?”
She only gave a hesitant nod. It wasn’t much, but it was more than anything she’d given Y/n in months.
The first time Nagisa held Y/n to her chest, it was stiff. When Y/n latched on, a confused look passed over Nagisa’s face. She didn’t know what to feel, but she didn’t push her away.
Yuto was ecstatic. He beamed the entire day, humming as he did the dishes, even danced a little when no one was looking. He took pictures again, Y/n in her mother’s arms, and saved them in a special folder.
Finally, finally, he entrusted Y/n into Nagisa’s care for the day. He kissed his wife’s temple before heading out. “Call me if you need anything, alright? I’m just a few minutes away.”
He stepped out, hopeful, for once, maybe things would turn around.
But Nagisa stared down at Y/n in her arms. Her face blank. Slowly, the look of hatred returned to her eyes. Her arms trembled as Y/n drifted to sleep against her chest. She laid the baby in the crib.
Her hands picked up her phone. She checked her contacts until her eyes stopped at Takumi. Her thumb hovered for only a second before she pressed call.
He picked up almost immediately. "Nagisa?"
“I need your help.”
“Help with what?”
She glanced back at the crib.
“I want you to help me stage a kidnapping,” Nagisa stated flatly. “Tonight.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Nagisa, what the hell are you talking about?”
She didn’t repeat herself.
“She’s not mine. I can’t see her as mine. She’s destroying me. I want her gone.”
“Yuto will—”
“Let me worry about him. Just help me make her disappear.”
Takumi’s voice lowered. “You’re talking about a baby. Yuto’s baby.”
“No. She’s his. That mistake Minato gave me. I can’t do this anymore.”
Silence again. Takumi sighed. “I’ll need time. 24 hours.”
“You have twelve. I will handle the baby. You just make sure you send some people to 'injure' me.” Nagisa snapped, ending the call.
She stood there, staring at her daughter.
It would all be over soon.
Minato stood frozen in the doorway, the hallway light casting shadows across his face. Y/n squirmed in his arms, fussing faintly, but his eyes were fixed on the woman in front of him.
Nagisa’s arms were crossed tightly. “Take her.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Minato snapped, trying to hand Y/n back, but Nagisa stepped back instantly, arms behind her, recoiling like he was diseased.
“No. I’m done,” she spat. “I’m done with all your threats. Your manipulation. You wanted her? You can fucking have her.”
Minato’s expression twisted. “You’ve lost it. I never wanted—”
“Don’t lie to yourself now,” Nagisa interrupted with a venomous smile. “You’re the one who said Yuto was a fool. You were fine playing house, weren’t you? Well, I’m out. I’m not playing anymore.”
“You think you can just dump her here, to ME?”
“I think I’ve earned the right to be done.”
She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist. “Yuto is not going to be okay with this! You think he won’t notice?”
Nagisa twisted out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me. Or I’ll scream. In fact,” she gave a bitter laugh, “I’ll tell him you forced me. That this child was the result of something I never wanted.”
Minato’s face drained. “Don’t you dare.”
“I will. And you know what? He’ll believe me.”
His jaw clenched, a thousand curses burning in his throat.
“Yuto’s in love with me,” she sneered. “Hopelessly. Pathetically. He’ll never believe you. Especially not when I’m crying in his arms, blaming you for it all.”
Her words dug in deeper than a knife.
“And you know what else?” she whispered. “You might be his brother, but he’s not the soft-hearted boy you remember. He’s the head of that family now. The kind of man who can make people disappear.”
“He’ll kill you for what I tell him. And you’ll die knowing it’s because you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
His blood ran cold.
“He’ll believe me. Because you’re sick in the head, Minato. Just like your mother.”
Minato’s hands trembled, Y/n held high above his head, her wails piercing through the suffocating tension. His chest heaved, anger and panic warring violently inside him. He stared at Nagisa, waiting for her to break, to lunge forward.
"I will fucking kill her, Nagisa!"
But Nagisa just stood still, arms crossed, gaze void of fear. “Do it then,” she encouraged. “Drop her.”
Y/n’s cries grew louder. Minato’s breath hitched. Nagisa tilted her head. “Go ahead. Kill her. The bastard baby you didn’t want. The one you pretended didn’t exist.”
She stepped closer, voice turning quiet and cruel. “Because once Yuto finds out what you did, he won’t even let you die. He’ll keep you alive... just long enough to make you wish you were dead. Again, and again, and again.”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” she whispered. "You kill his daughter, even if she’s not his by blood, and that will be your final act.”
Silence.
Then, Minato’s arms dropped. He cradled Y/n against his chest.
Nagisa smirked.
“Thought so.”
Minato didn’t look up. He couldn’t. His voice cracked low.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
Nagisa turned on her heel, already halfway through the door. She paused at the door, back turned.
“You’ll be fine, as long as you keep that brat away from public's eyes.”
Minato remained quiet. Just stared at the spot where the floor met the wall.
She continued, “But if you try to give her up for adoption, he’ll notice. And you can’t escape his wrath.”
Her fingers toyed with the edge of the doorway. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”
Then she looked over her shoulder. “But I’m sure you don’t wanna be a bad parent like your mother... right?”
That last word twisted something deep inside him.
Minato bit down his bottom lip. Nagisa gave a little shrug, then walked out, the door shutting behind her.
Minato lowered himself to the floor, back resting against the wall, Y/n now bundled against his chest.
Yuto’s phone vibrated against the conference table. He excused himself immediately. When he answered the call, the voice on the other end was rushed, panicked.
“Boss, it’s your wife. She’s hurt. The baby’s gone.”
His heart instantly dropped.
“What do you mean gone?” he hissed.
“They were attacked. A few blocks from your residence. Madam Nagisa’s got injuries, she’s hysterical. She kept screaming they took the baby.”
A silence stretched too long before Yuto breathed, “Mobilize everyone. Find my daughter. No matter who they are! Burn the trail until we get her back.”
He was already moving as he spoke.
When he arrived at the safehouse where Nagisa had been brought, he found her curled up on the futon, bandaged and trembling. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her voice cracked with every breath.
“I-I tried to stop them,” she wept. “They were so fast—I didn’t see their faces. I held onto her, I swear, but t-they shoved me down and—” She broke into sobs. “I couldn’t protect her, Yuto, I couldn’t protect her... I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...”
Yuto crouched in front of her, placing a trembling hand on her cheek. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
He stood and faced his men at the doorway. “...I don’t care what it takes. Find the bastards who did this.” He looked back at Nagisa, who continued to sob.
But what Yuto didn’t see...
...was the faint flicker of joy in her eyes as she buried her face into her hands.
The sun had barely risen when Yuto stood by the riverside, his coat soaked from the drizzle that hadn’t let up since dawn.
In his hands, crumpled and clinging with water, was Y/n’s favorite blanket; the little (f/c) one with the stitched clouds and fading stars. The one she always clutched in her sleep. The one he wrapped her in every morning when he picked her up from her crib.
That was all that remained.
The divers had scoured every inch of the river, diving past the rocks and silt, pushing into currents far deeper than the eye could see. They resurfaced one by one, solemn and silent. No body. No trace.
Just the blanket.
When Takumi approached him, hesitating to speak the words no man should ever hear, Yuto didn’t need to hear them. He already knew.
He crumbled.
He dropped to his knees on the wet, gravel-lined bank, clutching the soaked blanket to his chest like it could still carry her warmth. His breath hitched, once, then the dam burst.
Yuto sobbed. Loud, gut-wrenching cries that tore out from a place too deep.
The rain poured, but he didn’t care. He stayed there, head bowed, mourning a daughter he never got to watch grow. A baby whose first laugh he had only just heard, whose first steps he would never see.
His men watched in silence. Some turned away. Others quietly wept.
No one dared lie to him.
Yuto had lost his miracle.
Oh baby Y/n☹️