The summer winds carried the scent of blooming lilies through the open windows of the Hayashi home, rustling the white curtains with a peaceful rhythm. Birds chirped softly in the distance, and the house was wrapped in a sacred, expectant stillness.
Inside, the world changed.
Riku paced the length of the living room, hands behind his back, his black spiky hair a bit more disheveled than usual, deep dark blue eyes wide with concern. He wasn't battling a High Code, wasn't standing off against ancient forces. But his heart thundered in his chest as if he was.
"Riku…" Yumi's voice, gentle but firm, called to him from the other room.
He rushed to her side. Yumi lay propped up on a nest of soft blankets and pillows. Her long black hair was tied loosely back, her soft brown eyes shining with warmth, love — and exhaustion. Around them, Sayuri and Reina moved with quiet coordination, helping through the process while shielding the moment from the world outside.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't chaotic.
It was… real.
Hours passed like moments and eternities at once. And then — two distinct cries echoed through the home.
First one.
Then another.
Riku froze.
Sayuri carefully held the first newborn — a girl, wrapped in a snow-white blanket. Reina gently took the second — a boy, his tiny hands already balling into little fists.
Yumi breathed, chest rising and falling, sweat dotting her forehead, eyes blinking back overwhelmed tears.
Riku stared in awe, trembling slightly.
"They're…" he whispered, taking a cautious step forward, "they're perfect."
The little girl had tufts of black hair, soft and silky like her mother's, with faint silver streaks hidden at the tips. Her eyes, though still adjusting, gleamed like faint sapphire.
The boy had more wild hair — slightly spiky like his father's, a darker tone. Even asleep, his expression had the tiniest frown of focus.
Riku swallowed hard.
"Yumi…" he whispered, barely able to speak, "you did… everything…"
She smiled weakly and reached for him. "We… did everything."
Reina carefully handed the girl to Yumi, and Sayuri handed the boy to Riku.
And then… the strongest Essence Warrior in the world took one look at his son, then his daughter…
And fainted.
Right there.
Straight to the floor.
Thud.
"...Seriously?" Reina blinked.
Sayuri laughed softly and walked over, brushing Riku's hair aside as he mumbled something about "emotional overload" and "critical system failure."
Yumi giggled through her exhaustion, cradling the newborn girl close.
They would name them later. Announce them never — at least not to the world.
Only those closest knew.
Two children born not to wear a legacy, but to grow into one of their own.
And above the nursery, stitched into a soft mobile that gently spun over two cribs, was a single shared symbol:
The crimson lotus.
Outlined in obsidian.
Swirled with silver motion.
And bearing the mark of bond — 「絆」.
—