Page 134 of Kotori
Kaito lies beside me in our bed, face peaceful in the early morning light filtering through silk curtains. At some point during the night, his palm found its way to where our child grows, fingers spread wide in unconscious claiming. Even unconscious, he protects what's his.
"Good morning, little one," I whisper to the curve of my stomach, covering his hand with mine. The pregnancy is nowimpossible to miss, my body changing daily in ways that fascinate and occasionally terrify me.
His heir. The son he's dreamed of since the night he first touched me. The future oyabun of the Matsumoto-kai, growing safe and warm beneath our joined hands.
"Talking to someone I should know?" Kaito's voice is rough with sleep, but his eyes are alert as they focus on our hands.
"Just letting him know we're awake."
"Him?" One eyebrow arches with amused skepticism. "Dr. Fujiwara said we'll find out for certain next week."
"Call it maternal intuition. Or wishful thinking." I stretch against silk sheets that probably cost more than my old monthly salary, enjoying the lazy luxury of morning in bed with my husband. "Though I suppose I should be diplomatically hoping for healthy, regardless of gender."
"I have three beautiful daughters. Another would be a blessing." But his thumb traces circles over my stomach with the reverence of a man who's dreamed of sons to carry his name. "Though I admit, the idea of teaching a boy to fight, to lead, to protect what matters most..."
"Gets you ridiculously excited?"
"Among other things." He leans over to kiss me, soft and sweet. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. The nausea is completely gone now. Just the backaches and the constant need to pee that Dr. Fujiwara warned about."
"Excellent. Because we have a meeting with the Yamazaki group at ten, lunch with Mizuki to discuss her university applications, and the quarterly business review this afternoon."
I groan dramatically, pulling a pillow over my face. "Can't we just stay in bed and let me be pregnant in peace?"
"Unfortunately, being married to a yakuza oyabun involves occasional responsibilities." He tugs the pillow away, grinning at my expression. "Though I promise to make it up to you tonight."
"You'd better. I'm carrying your heir. I deserve royal treatment."
"You get royal treatment every day."
It's true. In the year since our wedding, Kaito has treated me like the most precious thing in his world. Not because I'm fragile, but because I'm valuable—his partner in every sense, the woman who stands beside him as he builds the Matsumoto empire into something that will last generations.
The ceremony itself had been perfect in its intimate simplicity. Traditional vows in the family shrine with only those who mattered most present.
Before the ceremony, Kaito had surprised me by adding my late mother's photograph to the family shrine, placing her among the Matsumoto ancestors. "She should be here to see her daughter become part of this family," he'd said quietly. It was the moment I knew with absolute certainty that this man understood what mattered to me, even the painful absences I'd learned to live with.
"You're different here," Mizuki had said afterward, watching me help Aya with her calligraphy practice. "Like you finally found where you belong."
She was right. I had found where I belonged. Not just geographically, but in every way that mattered. Wife, mother, partner to a man who ruled his world with intelligence and controlled violence. The woman who'd arrived seeking temporary employment had become permanent family.
"What are you thinking about?" Kaito asks, studying my face with the attention to detail that makes him such an effective leader.
"How much has changed. How different everything is from what I expected when I arrived at your door eighteen months ago."
"Regrets?"
"None. Well, maybe one small one."
His body tenses slightly, the automatic response of a man who's learned that complacency can be deadly. "What?"
"I regret that it took me so long to understand what you were offering. All those months of fighting what I wanted, what we both knew was inevitable." I trace patterns on his chest, following scars that tell stories of a life lived dangerously. "I wasted time being afraid of who I might become instead of embracing it."
"You needed time to choose freely. Coercion creates resentment, not love. What we have now is stronger because you came to it willingly."
"Still. I could have saved us both some frustration if I'd been braver sooner."
"Or you could have said yes without truly understanding what it meant, and resented me later when the reality became clear." He captures my wandering hand, bringing it to his lips. "The timing was perfect. We both became who we needed to be to make this work."
