Page 100 of Kotori
"Tell me about her," I say softly. "What was she like?"
"Beautiful. Gentle but strong, she never backed down when something mattered to her." Mizuki pulls back slightly, eyes bright with tears and memory. "She sang while she cooked. Terrible voice, but she didn't care. And she always smelled like cherry blossoms because she loved the trees in the east garden."
"She sounds wonderful."
"She was." Fresh tears spill over. "She would have liked you, I think. She always said the best mothers aren't the ones who give birth, but the ones who choose to love children who need them."
The words hit me hard. "She said that?"
"When Aya was born. She had trouble bonding at first, postpartum depression, though we didn't understand then. She felt guilty for not feeling instantly connected." Mizuki's voice grows soft with memory. "Papa found her crying one night, terrified she was a bad mother. He told her that real mothers prove themselves through choice, not biology."
Understanding floods through me. "And you remember that."
"Every day." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "That's how I know you're real. Because you chose us. You didn't have to love Aya and Kohana and even me when I was horrible to you. But you did anyway."
"Of course I did." I cup her face gently, the way I've learned calms her younger sisters. "You're remarkable, Mizuki-chan. Brilliant and strong and so much braver than you know."
"I don't feel brave."
I smooth her hair back from her face. "You just chose to apologize when you could have stayed angry. That takes incredible courage."
She leans into the touch like someone starved for maternal comfort. "Could I... would it be okay if I called you Paige-mama too? Like the others?"
The question comes out small and hopeful, and my heart swells so much it hurts. "I would love that more than anything."
"Paige-mama," she whispers, testing the words. "It feels right."
Twentyminuteslater,we'repiling into the armored Mercedes while Kaito supervises loading the picnic supplies. He's traded his usual business attire for weekend casual, dark jeans and a crisp white cotton button-down that makes him look more approachable. The long sleeves hide his tattoos completely, transforming him from intimidating clan leader to simply a handsome father planning a family outing.
The change is devastating to my composure. This relaxed version of him, hair slightly mussed and genuine smile lines crinkling his eyes as he listens to Aya's excitement, makes my chest tight with affection I wasn't prepared to feel.
"Everyone ready?" Kaito asks, sliding into the seat beside me. His hand finds mine immediately, fingers intertwining with casual possession that still makes my pulse quicken.
"Ready, Papa!" Aya declares. "This is going to be the best family day ever!"
"Because Paige-mama made sure the kitchen included all our favorite foods," Kohana adds with shy pleasure.
"And because Mizuki-nee is coming with us instead of being grumpy," Aya pipes up.
Mizuki flushes but doesn't snap back. "I'm looking forward to it," she says instead.
Kaito catches my eye in the side mirror, and I see satisfaction there, his family healing, coming together the way he always envisioned. "Then let's go make some memories."
The drive through Kyoto takes us past temples and traditional houses, modern city life blending seamlessly with ancient culture. Kaito points out landmarks to me while the girls chatter about their favorite spots, creating a running commentary that feels wonderfully normal.
"That's where Mama used to take us for ice cream," Aya says, pressing her face against the window. "They have flavors like green tea and sweet potato."
"We should stop there on the way home," I suggest. "If everyone wants to."
"Really?" Aya's eyes light up. "You'd want to try?"
"I'd want to try anything that makes you happy," I tell her honestly.
In the front seat, I catch Kaito's smile in the rearview mirror. The look he gives me is warm with approval, but there's something deeper underneath. Like watching me fall naturally into the maternal role brings him genuine pleasure.
Fushimi Inari Shrine rises above us in layers of vermillion torii gates that create tunnels of color up the mountainside. Even on a busy Saturday, the crowds part naturally around Kaito's presence, not obviously, but with the subtle deference of people who recognize authority without knowing exactly why.
The heat hits us immediately despite the early hour, thick and oppressive even in the shade of the torii tunnels. I can already feel sweat beading at my hairline, and we haven't even started climbing.
