{TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE}
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Yu's gentle "thank you" still echoing in their ears. The taller officer exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on the faded graffiti scrawled across the hallway walls.
"Can you believe that?"
He muttered, his voice thick with something that wasn't just anger—it was awe.
Hanae Mori shook her head, wiping discreetly at her damp lashes.
"She's… she's like an angel. She put up with all this. For over a year. And not because she's weak—because she wanted to protect the man she loves. She didn't even file a report so her husband wouldn't worry."
"Kind, gentle, understanding…"
The taller one listed, as though trying to tally something beyond human measure.
"And carrying twins on top of it…"
He trailed off, jaw tight.
"We can't let this stand. Not after hearing all that."
They exchanged a wordless nod. The case against Taichi? Forgotten. Dropped. But the bastard who pushed Yu to the brink—that was different. That was now personal.
By unspoken agreement, they didn't return to the station. Instead, they lingered outside the complex, positioning themselves with casual postures that belied their sharp vigilance. Scouting, waiting, ready to intercept if the harasser returned. For Yu. For the angel who endured so much.
---
Back inside the apartment, Yu leaned against the door after it clicked shut, his hand still pressed over his belly where his twins rested safe and small. His heart was hammering—not from fear this time, but from the rawness of speaking it all aloud.
The apartment was quiet, Taichi's slippers neatly by the mat, the faint scent of curry from lunch still lingering in the air. He padded back toward the table, staring at the empty mugs he had given the officers. His smile—the one he had worn like armor—finally slid away.
He sank onto the couch, hugging one of the cushions to his chest. Tears welled, unbidden, but these weren't like before. They weren't of panic or despair. They were fragile, trembling drops of release. For the first time, he hadn't hidden. For the first time, he had been heard.
The silence cocooned him, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady rhythm of his own breathing as it slowly evened out.
"Taichi…"
He whispered, curling on his side, imagining the weight of Taichi's arm across him. For now, he was alone. But not empty.
For the first time in months, Yu allowed himself to hope.
He stared at the apartment, the walls that had both sheltered and suffocated him this past year. Every shadow felt alive, every creak of the building a phantom echo of fists against the door, taunts through the wood. His chest tightened, and before he realized it, his hand had drifted to rest protectively over his belly.
The twins.
He whispered to them in the quiet, words muffled but desperate.
"It's okay… you're safe. Mommy's here, and… and Papa will be home soon."
The thought alone was the only thread keeping him from unraveling completely.
Yu's throat ached. He couldn't cry—not again, not when he'd promised himself to be strong. Instead, he forced himself to move. He picked up the mugs the officers had left behind, rinsed them carefully, wiped down the counter as if cleaning away the lingering dread. Each small task became a lifeline. If his hands were busy, his mind couldn't spiral.
Still, when he caught his reflection in the darkened TV screen, his heart stumbled. Hollow eyes. A ghost of the person he once was. He pressed a trembling palm against the glass as though to remind himself he was still here. Still alive.
"Just wait until Taichi comes home…"
He whispered.
"Then it'll feel real again."
---
Jezebel's heels clicked smartly against the pavement as she strode toward Yu and Taichi's apartment complex. The news that the assault case had been dropped infuriated her—insufficient evidence, they had said. That was the excuse. She had been certain the law would finally corner Taichi, separate him from that pathetic "wife" he kept hidden away.
Instead, Yu was still here. Still alive. Still smiling behind that locked door.
Her painted nails tapped against the strap of her designer purse as her smile stretched, brittle and venomous.
'If the system won't handle it… then I'll do it myself.'
She caught sight of two patrol officers leaning against their car just down the street. Her lips twitched. They weren't normally here—she knew the routes, had mapped them out for weeks—but clearly, the little "angel" had bought himself some protectors.
"Tch. Why are they here? How annoying."
She murmured to herself, tilting her head as she pretended not to notice them. She let her blonde hair shimmer in the sunlight, projecting innocence, a wealthy student out for a stroll. In reality, her mind seethed with thoughts of ruining Yu—utterly, completely.
Hanae Mori narrowed her eyes at Jezebel as she approached Yu's door. She nudged her partner.
"You see her?"
"Yeah. Doesn't look like trouble, but…"
The male officer scratched his chin, watching Jezebel's swaying walk.
"That's not someone from this block. We should keep an eye."
Hanae's frown deepened. Something about the way the girl carried herself—confident, predatory—sent a chill crawling down her spine. She remembered Yu's trembling smile in that apartment, the way he clutched his belly when speaking of his twins. She remembered his words.
If your wife or girlfriend was pregnant and left at home…
The image of her own little sister, belly round and ready to give birth any day now, popped into her mind. How delicate and radiant she looked overlapped with Yu's own face and a fierce surge of protectiveness rose within her.
She wouldn't let this stranger so much as breathe wrong in front of him.
Meanwhile, Jezebel reached Yu's door, pausing just long enough to compose herself. She smoothed her dress, adjusted her purse, and plastered on a sweet smile. Then she raised her hand to knock—
Rap, rap, rap
—light, polite. A mask for the malice simmering beneath.
---
Yu's hand trembled on the doorknob as he cracked it open, thinking Jezebel was just another spoiled rich girl who could yell but not bite. Through the gap, he saw her glossy hair, her polished smile—and for a moment, relief flickered. She didn't look like the masked men, like the ones who had haunted his nights.
But when Jezebel's sharp gaze dropped, when she saw the curve of his belly beneath the loose knit sweater he wore, her expression snapped into shock and disgust.
Her voice pitched high, mocking, cruel.
"Ew! Oh my god! Did you get fat, or is that like—a fake pregnancy belly? Are you stupid? Do you actually think you're a real woman, waddling around pretending you'll give birth? It's sick. You're a freak!"
The words stabbed deeper than knives ever could. Yu's breath hitched, his knees almost buckling. But then his hands instinctively went to his stomach, protective, trembling over the lives within. His voice wavered, fragile but laced with steel only a mother could muster.
"Jess… I am pregnant. These are Taichi's children. We're married. You need to respect that. Please… leave."
Something in Jezebel's face shattered then—her carefully curated mask cracking into something twisted. Her laughter spiraled into panic, shrill and grating.
"Respect what? This shame of a relationship? Two men can't legally get married, idiot! You're just a pervert in a skirt—pretending! And now you think you can give birth? I don't believe it. I bet it's fake! Once Taichi finds out, he'll leave you and come running to me for comfort! I just need to prove it—"
Her purse rattled as her hand dove inside. Metal glinted.
Yu's blood ran cold.
"...No."
She lunged.
With all the strength he had left, Yu shoved the door to close, slamming it just as Jezebel's weight hit from the other side. His scream tore raw from his throat, shrill and desperate.
"HELP! PLEASE—!!"
Outside, the two officers jolted upright, their instincts snapping to attention.
"That's her!"
Hanae Mori barked, already sprinting toward the stairwell.
But Jezebel's fury lent her strength. The door burst inward, rattling off its hinges. Yu stumbled back, clutching his stomach, scrambling toward the narrow bathroom.
The knife flashed. Pain seared. Jezebel's blade caught him as he turned—slashing across the side of his belly.
Yu's scream echoed off the walls, broken, guttural, the sound of terror and agony entwined. His body collapsed to the cold floor, his hands pressed over the wound, warm wetness already seeping through his fingers.
The door banged again—this time with the officers bursting inside, guns drawn, shouts splitting the air.
"DROP THE KNIFE!"
Yu's world tilted, vision swimming in and out of focus. The floor was cold beneath him, but the hot gush soaking his hands told him something far worse. His breath came shallow, ragged, each inhale catching on a sob.
"P-please…"
His voice cracked as he looked up at Hanae Mori kneeling beside him, hands pressing over his wound. His lips trembled, eyes wide with terror but burning with desperation.
"Don't worry about me. Just—please—save the babies. Even if… even if it kills me… make sure they live…"
The words spilled raw, each syllable tasting of blood and salt. His arms wrapped protectively around his middle, as if sheer will alone could shield his children from the knife's cruel kiss. His heart hammered erratically, but his focus never wavered from the tiny lives inside him.
Tears blurred Hanae's eyes as she pressed harder against the wound, her own hands shaking.
"Stay with me, Yu-chan. You're strong. You'll make it. I promise you, we'll do everything to protect your children."
Yu tried to smile but only managed a weak twitch of his lips, whispering again through the dizziness creeping in.
"Don't call Taichi… he's working… if he loses his job… he'll…"
His lashes fluttered, heavy as lead.
"I'll be fine. Please, just… protect them…"
The other officer, phone pressed to his ear, called urgently for backup and an ambulance. But despite Yu's plea, procedure demanded the truth:
The hospital would notify his emergency contact. Taichi.
Yu's consciousness slipped, the world darkening at the edges. His last thought before surrendering to the black was of tiny hands, tiny feet—his babies breathing, crying, living—even if he didn't.
---
The clatter of machinery and the grunt of men filled the construction site, dust and sweat heavy in the air. Taichi hauled another beam into place when the foreman's voice barked out behind him.
"Arifukua! Phone call for you—hospital line!"
His chest tightened instantly. He dropped the beam with a thud and snatched the receiver, his hands already trembling.
"Hello?"
"Is this Taichi Arifukua? Your partner, Yuiko, has been admitted to the hospital. There's been… an incident. You need to come immediately."
The world froze. His knuckles whitened against the phone.
"W-what happened? Is he—are they—"
The nurse's voice was calm but firm.
"We'll explain when you arrive. Please hurry."
Before he could respond, a rough voice cut in—his boss.
"Don't you dare leave this site, Arifukua! If you walk now, don't bother coming back—you're fired!"
But the decision had already been made. Taichi slammed the phone down, grabbed his jacket, and strode past the shocked foreman without a second glance.
"Then I quit."
His voice was low, dangerous, trembling with fury and fear.
"Yu needs me. That's all that matters."
The sound of his boots pounding across the gravel was drowned out only by the thunder in his chest, every step carrying him closer to the hospital—closer to Yu.
---
The hospital loomed ahead, harsh fluorescent lights glaring through the glass doors. Taichi's lungs burned from running, his body still caked in dust from the construction site, but none of it mattered. He burst through the entrance, chest heaving, eyes wild as he scanned the reception desk.
"Yuiko Hokohayashi—where is he!? Please—my wife, my—"
His words broke, raw and desperate.
The nurse at the desk, startled by the sheer force of his panic, quickly checked the board.
"He's been rushed into emergency surgery. You need to wait—"
"Wait?"
Taichi's voice cracked. His fists trembled against the counter.
"He's in there alone, bleeding, with our children! And you're telling me to just sit here!?"
"Sir…"
A doctor in scrubs stepped forward, calm but firm.
"I promise you—your partner is in the best hands. Right now, you being here, alive and ready for him when he wakes up, is what he needs. Let us do our part."
Taichi's knees buckled as the words hit him. For the first time since the phone call, he stopped moving. He let the doctor guide him toward the waiting area, his hands buried in his hair, whispering Yu's name like a prayer.
---
Cold. That was the first sensation that anchored him. A chill crawling through his body, tugging him deeper into the dark. Voices echoed around him, distant and muffled, like he was underwater.
"…BP dropping—get the transfusion ready."
"…babies… still… too early…"
Yu blinked sluggishly, shadows and light blurring together above him. Pain pulsed in his side, sharp and searing, but his mind clung desperately to one thought—the twins.
He tried to lift a hand toward his belly, but someone gently pressed it down. Panic fluttered in his chest, and his lips formed broken words.
"P-please… not me… j-just… save them…"
A nurse leaned close, her voice steady but strained.
"Shh, don't speak. Focus on breathing, Mom. Your babies are fighters, just like you. We're going to bring them through this."
His eyes welled with tears. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to see them—tiny, whole, alive.
"Taichi…"
His voice cracked, a whisper more to himself than to anyone else.
"Don't… leave me…"
Darkness pulled harder, but his heart pushed back. If he slipped away now, he'd break every promise he'd made. For them. For Taichi. For the fragile hope that love had built inside him.
And so, even as his body grew weaker, Yu fought to stay tethered—threading himself to the image of Taichi's arms holding their sons, to the sound of Taichi's voice saying his name, grounding him back to life.
---
The sterile hum of the hospital was beginning to suffocate Taichi. He had been sitting there for hours, fists clenched against his knees, head bowed so low his bangs shadowed his face. Every time a nurse walked by in scrubs, his heart jerked, only to plummet again when they passed him without stopping.
Then came the familiar uniforms. Two police officers approached, one of them the same woman who had calmed Yu years ago after the Halloween incident. Taichi lifted his eyes to them, bloodshot and blazing with barely checked fury.
They explained what had happened—how Jezebel Suzuki had gone to Yu's apartment, how she had forced her way in and stabbed him, and how she was now in custody.
Taichi's jaw tightened with every word. His nails dug crescents into his palms.
"So she finally crossed the line."
He growled.
"I should've ended this sooner."
Hanae Mori touched his shoulder, gentle but firm.
"She won't hurt her again. We'll make sure of it. Right now, focus on your partner. She needs you."
Moments later, the door to the waiting area opened, and Yu's doctor entered, removing his mask with a tired but reassuring look.
"Mr. Arifukua?"
Taichi was on his feet in an instant.
"How is he? Please, just tell me—"
The doctor raised a calming hand.
"Your partner is stable. The wound was deeper than a superficial cut but not life-threatening. Unfortunately, the fall caused a rupture in the womb, so we had no choice but to perform an emergency C-section."
Taichi's breath caught.
"B-but—he's only five months along…"
The doctor gave a small smile.
"Yes, but both children were delivered safely. They're strong boys, already breathing on their own. Your partner is exhausted, but he's out of danger."
It was like the floor beneath Taichi gave way, only for him to be caught by the weight of relief. Tears burned his eyes as he pressed a trembling hand over his face.
"Thank God…"
"Come."
The doctor said softly.
"He's awake. He's waiting for you."
---
The sight of Yu nearly shattered him. Propped up in the hospital bed, pale and fragile but alive, his belly flat now beneath the blankets, bandages peeking at his side. Beside him, a pair of clear cribs held two impossibly small bundles, their tiny chests rising and falling with steady breaths.
Taichi choked on a sob as he rushed to Yu's side, clutching his hand.
"Yu…"
Yu's lips trembled into a faint smile, his voice weak but steady.
"Taichi… I was so scared. I thought… it was too soon for them. That they wouldn't… make it."
Taichi shook his head fiercely, pressing their foreheads together.
"They're here. They're alive. You're alive. That's all that matters."
Yu closed his eyes, tears slipping down.
"The doctor said… technology's advanced enough. They'll be fine. Even me—I'm not in danger. Just a little cut, deeper than when I… when I hurt myself before. I thought I'd lose everything, but—"
He broke off, voice cracking.
Taichi kissed his temple, clutching him closer.
"You're not losing anything. Not me, not them. I swear it, Yu."
He looked down at the twins, his sons, and then back at Yu. A fire lit behind his exhaustion. This was no longer just about survival. This was about protecting what was his—what was theirs.
They couldn't keep living there. Not with her still breathing the same air. Not with strangers pounding at their door. This was it. The wake-up call. Things had to change.
Taichi pressed Yu's hand against his lips, his voice low but unyielding.
"We're getting out, Yu. I'll make sure you're safe. All of you. I'll do whatever it takes."
Yu blinked at him, confused but reassured by the steel in his voice. He didn't ask what Taichi meant. He just held on tighter, whispering.
"I believe you."
And for Taichi, that was all the fuel he needed.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the machines and the soft breaths of the newborns. Yu lay drowsy against his pillows, still pale but calmer now, his hand never leaving Taichi's even when his eyelids fluttered with exhaustion.
The twins, Taro and Kenji, slept in their bassinets, their tiny fists curling and uncurling as though they were already reaching for the world. Yu gazed at them through heavy-lidded eyes, his lips curving into the gentlest smile Taichi had ever seen.
"They're so small…"
Yu whispered, voice thin but warm.
"But so strong. Just like their papa."
Taichi leaned down, kissing his damp forehead.
"No, they're strong like their mama."
Yu's chest hitched, tears sliding silently down his cheeks. He pulled Taichi's hand toward him and pressed it against his heart.
"I'm… I'm so happy. Even after everything, they're here. You're here. We're still together."
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no sound of fists against the door, no taunts, no threats—only peace. A fragile bubble of warmth, carved out of chaos. Taichi let himself soak in it, committing every detail to memory.
But peace never lasted long. Once Yu finally drifted into sleep, Taichi quietly slipped out of the room. He stepped into the corridor, pulling his phone from his pocket, his jaw set in grim determination.
He scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he'd avoided for years: Ling, his father's secretary. After a long exhale, he pressed call.
It rang once before a crisp, professional voice answered.
"Young master Taichi, what can I do for you?"
"Ling,"
His voice was low, clipped, heavy with unspoken weight.
"I need two things. Money—and for you to deal with Jezebel Suzuki legally. Quietly. Don't let my father know, but make sure she is dealt with. I want the world to forget he existed."
There was a pause on the other end, heavy with the weight of old loyalties and unasked questions. Finally, Ling's voice came again, softer this time, tinged with something like sympathy.
"…Understood. I'll make arrangements. Leave this to me, young master Taichi."
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his knuckles white around the phone. His gaze drifted back toward the door to Yu's room. Behind it lay everything he'd sworn to protect: his fragile, beautiful partner and their two newborn sons.
No more mistakes. No more dawdling trying to do it himself. Taichi would burn the world down before letting anyone hurt them again.
True to her word, Ling moved swiftly. She had always been more than a secretary—she was the quiet executor of Taichi's father's will, the shadow diplomat who cleaned messes before they reached the man's desk. This time, however, she worked not for the father but for the son.
Within days, Jezebel Suzuki found herself cornered. A restraining order was filed, ironclad, with evidence lined up so neatly it looked inevitable. Lawyers whispered of slander, reporters dug gleefully into her history, and every ounce of her carefully curated reputation crumbled to ash. Jezebel, who once believed herself untouchable, was branded poisonous in every social circle that once adored her.
Her father's wealth managed to shield her from jail, but not from disgrace. Facing mounting legal threats, Jezebel fled abroad, vanishing to a country where her family's connections could still protect her. The terms were clear:
If she ever set foot in Japan again, her fortune and freedom would be stripped away.
The hired man who had harassed Yu for over a year, along with other men, was not so fortunate. Arrested and convicted, he was offered up as a scapegoat and sentenced to jail in Jezebel's place, while his face and the other harasser's identities were plastered across the news as "obsessive stalkers" who had driven an innocent student to the brink. Ling made sure of it.
---
Back in the hospital, none of this touched Yu or Taichi. Their world had narrowed to the soft cries of newborn twins and the warmth of recovery. The storm outside was Ling's to handle. For now, Taichi could focus only on his family.
When visitor hours opened, Yu's shyness wavered just enough to ask Taichi to text their old group chat.
"I want them to meet the babies…"
He murmured, clutching the sonogram photos still tucked in his blanket.
The response was immediate. Within hours, the hospital room bloomed with life.
Sakura Sato and Fumiko Fujimori rushed in first, their arms already laden with pastel blankets and plush toys. They cooed over Taro and Kenji, fighting not to cry as they kissed Yu's cheeks and declared him glowing. Haruka Minami appeared on video call, her face beaming through the screen as she squealed and promised to fly back as soon as she could.
Yamato Yamada and Souma Satou arrived not far behind, each carrying bags so large it looked like they were moving in. Clothes, bottles, stuffed animals, even a stroller—they piled gift after gift, bickering and shoving each other in a ridiculous competition for "favorite uncle."
Yu, blushing, tried to protest.
"You're… you're spoiling them too much."
Sakura giggled.
"Nonsense! It's only fair. We spoiled you, now it's their turn."
Taichi watched from the bedside, one arm draped protectively around Yu. For the first time in years, laughter filled the air without bitterness or pain. Even the twins seemed soothed, as if they sensed the love surrounding them.