Joy's heart pounded so loud she could feel it in her ears as she eased her car into the Kingsley driveway. Rin was there—just Rin, standing awkwardly at the foot of the steps, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his eyes darting nervously toward the front door.
For one fragile second Joy thought maybe she could bluff her way through. That maybe Rin would smile, shrug, and let her slip past. But when she stepped out of her car, empty-handed and with no Yu in sight, Rin's whole body stiffened. He flinched like she'd slapped him and immediately dropped his gaze to the ground.
The front door opened before Joy could even force a cheerful greeting. Theo filled the frame. His presence was a shadow, a weight pressing down on the night air. He didn't look furious in the way of raised voices or clenched fists. He looked worse—calm, still, his eyes fixed on Joy like she'd already betrayed him.
Her lips parted, trying to form words, a joke, an excuse, anything—but her brave front cracked almost instantly under the steady, silent weight of his stare. She was his sister, but in that moment she felt like a child again, caught red-handed at her first attempt of escaping their home and waiting for the judgment to fall.
---
Across town, in Adrian's room, the tension had a different shape.
Adrian slammed his phone down, the click sharp in the quiet.
"My men traced Joy's phone."
He said flatly, standing and yanking a coat off the back of his chair.
"I know where she's taken him."
He didn't wait for Callen's reply—just moved toward the door with purpose. But Callen shoved him back, blocking the way.
"Wait."
Callen said, trying to keep his voice even.
"Maybe… maybe we should give him space. You saw him last night—he's delicate right now. He said he didn't want to see us. If we charge in and stress him out again, it could be dangerous for the babies."
Adrian stopped just long enough to glance over his shoulder, his eyes burning sharp.
"The babies are in danger without me!"
He snapped.
"You think Joy can protect him? You think Theo will let him breathe? No. I have to be the one by his side, now."
Callen raised both hands like he was holding onto a fragile thread.
"Then I'll come with you."
Adrian's jaw tightened. He turned fully, his voice low and edged like steel.
"No. You can stay. In fact—forget about being the father. You're not cut out for it. You'd give up the first night someone dangled a drink in front of you, or some pretty stranger warmed your bed. I've seen how you live, Callen. Even if you were the father, I wouldn't let you raise them. And I sure as hell won't let you take Yu."
The words landed like blows. Callen's mouth worked, but no sound came out. His usual cocky smile faltered, drained.
Adrian didn't wait for an answer. He threw his coat on, shoved past, and stormed out—leaving Callen standing in the middle of the room, fists clenching, teeth grinding, torn between the sting of Adrian's words and the sinking knowledge that, no matter how much he hated hearing it… Adrian might be right.
Adrian's footsteps pounded down the hall, the front door slamming hard enough to rattle the frame. Silence crashed down in his wake.
Callen stood there in Adrian's room, fists still clenched, jaw tight. For once, no smirk tugged at his lips. He wasn't good at silence—usually he filled it with a joke, a taunt, something careless to hide the churn in his chest. But this time…
'Marry Yu?'
The thought clung to him like static. The idea of it. The weight of it.
He'd fallen—hard, stupidly, faster than he'd ever fallen for anyone ever. Yu was different. It wasn't just the sex—though, god, the sex was unreal. It was how Yu cried into him, how his tears burned holes through Callen's careless armor. It was how he looked in the morning light, fragile and sharp all at once. Callen had never wanted to stay before, never wanted to belong to anyone, and now the idea made his chest ache.
But marriage? Before they'd even dated properly? Before they'd even figured out who they were outside of this shared mess? Before he'd proven he could be more than the party boy everyone thought him to be?
And babies. Three babies. Too much, too fast.
He raked his fingers through his hair, pacing once, twice. Truth was, he wasn't as furious as he'd pretended with Adrian. The thought of Yu carrying his children filled him with a strange warmth he didn't know how to name. But it also terrified him. Could he do it? Could he be what Yu needed?
The smirk finally tugged its way back, weak but familiar.
"Shit. I'm in deep, huh?"
---
Meanwhile, across town, the air in the Kingsley estate was colder than marble.
Theo filled the doorway, looming, every inch of his frame radiating restrained fury. His eyes burned into Joy, sharp and unyielding.
"Where is he?"
Theo's voice cut like glass.
Joy swallowed hard, fingers twisting together.
"Who—"
"Don't play with me, Joy!"
Theo snapped, stepping forward until his shadow drowned hers.
"Yu. Where. Is. He."
Rin shifted behind them, head ducked, clearly wishing he could vanish into the ground.
Joy's mouth opened, closed. For a second she looked every bit the little sister she was—cornered under her brother's glare. But then she steadied herself, eyes trembling but lifting, trying to shield Yu with silence.
Theo's breath hissed through his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides. His voice dropped, lower, more dangerous.
"Answer me, Joy."
The silence that stretched between them was as taut as a drawn bowstring.
Joy stood her ground, though her knees trembled beneath her skirt. She jutted her chin, words spilling out sharp, angry, and trembling all at once.
"You're scaring me, Theo. You're scaring him. Do you even hear yourself? You storm around, barking orders, acting like the world belongs to you! Yu doesn't need a warden, he needs someone who makes him feel safe—!"
Theo's eyes narrowed, his frame stiffening. He didn't shout, didn't even raise his voice. Instead, his presence shifted—the warmth, the charm, the brother she loved—snuffed out. What remained was cold, commanding, suffocating.
The temperature of the coming winter air outside seemed to plummet to tundra levels of freezing. Rin shuffled nervously, darting his eyes anywhere but at the siblings.
Joy's pulse hammered in her throat. For the first time in her life, she felt like Theo's gaze wasn't just angry—it was dangerous.
Her bravado cracked. She swallowed, her voice faltering but desperate as she tried one last attempt to shield Yu.
"He's… he's not with me, Theo."
She lied, her palms clammy at her sides.
"I left him with Izan. He—he said he wanted a break, some air. That's all I know."
Theo stilled. The silence was louder than any scream.
Joy forced a shaky smile, hoping, praying her words were enough to deflect him.
But in her gut, she already knew Theo wasn't the kind of man to simply let go once his claws sank in.
"That's all? Joy, do you think I'm stupid?"
Joy flinched and without thought, quickly blurted out a half-truth, half-lie. Okay, mostly all lies.
"I-I told Yu about your plans to propose! I'm sorry Theo! He said he wants to have a bachelor's party before a-accepting it so he's busy planning it with Izan! Th-that's why…"
Theo's sharp, suffocating presence hung in the air a moment longer—then, as if a switch had flipped, the cold melted. His expression softened, almost eerily fast, into a contemplative calm.
"Izan, hm?"
Theo murmured, more to himself than to Joy. A slow, almost indulgent smile tugged at his lips.
"So Yu wanted a party… a little space. That's fine. Let him have his month of air, his… bachelorette vacation."
Joy blinked, her stomach flipping uneasily at the words.
Theo's eyes gleamed with something dangerous but restrained, like a blade sheathed but never far from drawing.
"When he's done, I'll be there—ready. The proposal will be perfect. He'll be mine forever."
He turns swiftly towards the house's entrance, like nothing had just happened, murmuring about work documents and final details he needed to finish.
"Go back, Joy. I'll handle the rest."
Joy stood frozen on the doorstep, her hands shaking. He had believed her lie. But that belief was worse in its own way—because he was already planning Yu's cage.
As Theo disappeared back inside, the pit in her stomach gnawed deeper. She prayed—prayed—that Yu could stay safe and that this lie bought him more than just a little time.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Izan❤️🔥❤️💌💋: Joy, get back here NOW. A man showed up, says he's Yu's lover. Yu's in a bad state.
Joy's heart dropped to her feet.
She didn't think. She sprinted back to her car, nearly tripping over her own heels in the process. Her chest was tight, her breathing ragged as she started the engine and sped out of the Kingsley estate.
'Please!'
She begged silently, hands clamped white-knuckle on the steering wheel.
'Please let me get back to Yu and the babies in time…'
---
The penthouse lights spilled out into the hallway as Joy threw the door open, her heart hammering so violently she thought her ribs would splinter.
Inside, the scene hit her like a slap.
Yu sat curled on the couch, pale as porcelain, his knees drawn up under the oversized shirt he'd thrown on in his hurry. His swollen belly was barely hidden, the trembling of his hands giving him away completely. His cheeks were streaked with fresh tears, his breaths shallow.
Izan stood between him and the intruder, his posture deceptively calm but sharp with warning.
And the intruder—
Adrian.
He loomed just a few steps into the living room, his dark leather jacket half-zipped, tattoos peeking at the collar. His presence filled the space like smoke—quiet, heavy, dangerous. His gaze was locked on Yu, softened with something raw, almost tender, but his aura burned with barely checked possessiveness.
Joy's voice cracked as it ripped from her throat.
"Adrian?!"
Both men turned at once. Yu flinched, his lip trembling as he looked at Joy like a drowning man seeing land. Adrian, however, didn't even blink—his eyes simply slid to Joy, then Izan, assessing them both as if they were obstacles, not people.
"Joy Kingsley…"
Adrian said smoothly, almost like a greeting.
"I came to get him."
"You what?"
Joy stormed into the living room, planting herself firmly at Izan's side, her small body trembling but her voice fierce.
"He's not yours to get, Adrian. He's here because he's safe here."
"Safe?"
Adrian's lip curled faintly, his voice still maddeningly calm.
"You call this safe—letting him collapse, faint, cry himself sick? He needs someone who can actually protect him. Not hide him away."
Joy shook her head so hard her bun threatened to unravel.
"Protect him? You showed up with a gun on you, Adrian! Do you think Yu feels safe with that?"
The accusation landed. Adrian's jaw ticked, the first visible crack in his calm. His eyes darted back to Yu—softening again, flickering with guilt.
Yu whimpered faintly, his hand ghosting to his belly. He couldn't even muster words. His lips trembled like he was caught between begging Adrian to leave and begging him to stay.
Izan stepped forward, a wall of quiet steel. His voice was low, steady, but edged with something that could cut glass.
"You need to leave. Now. Yu's not in a state to deal with you. If you care about him at all, you'll respect that."
Adrian's gaze hardened, the softness draining like water slipping between stones. His fists clenched at his sides.
But his eyes—always, always—they flicked back to Yu, drinking him in as though memorizing every detail.
"I'll be back then."
He said finally, the words a vow, heavy and sharp. He turned, each step deliberate, controlled, but the heat of his presence lingered like smoke long after the door clicked shut.
Silence crashed in his wake.
Only Yu's broken sobs filled it, the sound tearing at Joy's chest as she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him.
Joy gathered Yu into her arms, cradling him close like she used to do when they were younger—before life had twisted everything into something sharp and dangerous. She rocked him gently, whispering little comforts against his hair, her hand rubbing soothing circles over his trembling back.
"It's okay, Yu… it's okay now. You're safe. I've got you. We're not letting anyone hurt you or the babies."
Yu's sobs slowly thinned into broken hiccups, his body still shaking but not so violently anymore. His lashes, heavy with tears, clung together as he burrowed closer into Joy's warmth, soaking in the comfort he so desperately needed.
Izan, standing just a step away, broke the silence with his usual bluntness.
"You don't need to worry about our Roman Love Culture presentation. I'll handle the brunt of it myself."
Joy turned her head sharply, shooting him an exasperated glare.
"Izan! Really? Now is not the time. Yu has more important things to think about than some college presentation!"
Yu blinked, startled, and then—despite the raw ache still twisting in his chest—he let out a tiny laugh. It slipped through the tension, awkward and fragile, but real. He wiped at his swollen eyes with the back of his sleeve, his lips curling weakly into a smile.
"Of all things to say right now…"
Yu's voice was hoarse, but humor sparked faintly in it.
"Only you, Izan."
The absurdity of it, the ridiculous normalcy of homework in the middle of this storm—it soothed him in a way he didn't expect. For a heartbeat, it felt like he was just a student again, not a boy caught between lovers, danger, missions, and the impossible weight of triplets.
Joy's face softened at the sound of his laugh. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, her own eyes shimmering.
"See? Even if he has the worst timing, you're not alone in this. Not ever."
Yu exhaled, shaky but steadier than before, clinging to Joy's words as if they could hold him together.
"Now, after all that excitement, why don't we turn in early for tonight?"
Yu nodded while Izan dug through some boxes and pulled out Yu's pajamas.
The penthouse became their fortress. The first night, no one really slept—Yu curled between Joy and Izan on the couch, the three of them clutching at blankets, every creak in the floorboards or groan of pipes jolting them upright in terror. Yu would reach for his belly each time, instinctively shielding the babies, while Joy would grab his hand and Izan would scan the windows like he could burn away intruders with just his glare.
But as nights stretched into mornings and melted into nights again, the edge dulled. Slowly, cautiously, they began to settle. Joy took over the kitchen, fussing over Yu with teas, soups, and oddly specific cravings he asked for at random hours. Izan set himself up as a silent guard, quietly folding into this strange domestic rhythm—always nearby, always steady.
And Yu… Yu let himself breathe. The nightmares still came, but less often when Joy was pressed close and Izan was within sight. His hormones still pulled tears from him easily, but here, those tears weren't shamed or weaponized—they were simply wiped away.
Outside, the men hovered like ghosts. Adrian came every evening, standing at the door, knocking once, twice, sometimes three times.
"Yu… please. Just talk to me."
He'd say, voice muffled through the wood. But Yu never answered, no matter how his chest ached to.
Callen came too, every other day, but he never knocked. He lingered at the curb, leaning against his car, cigarette unlit in hand, green eyes scanning the windows. He left only when it was clear Yu wouldn't come down.
A week passed like this, tense but survivable. Then came the follow-up appointment.
Yu sat in the passenger seat of Joy's car, his hands folded protectively over his bump as the city blurred by outside. He kept swallowing hard, nausea and fear clawing together in his throat. Joy glanced at him often, her hand reaching to squeeze his knee reassuringly.
"It'll be okay."
She said, her voice soft but steady.
"I'm here. No one's going to touch you or the babies while I'm around."
Yu managed a nod, clutching his bag tighter in his lap as the looming building came into view.
---
The hospital doors slid open with a hollow whoosh that made Yu flinch. The sterile air rolled out to greet them—sharp, clean, and unyielding. He clutched the strap of his bag with one hand, the hem of his jacket with the other, his steps slow and heavy despite the fact Joy kept a hand pressed into the small of his back, nudging him forward with all the gentleness in the world.
At the front desk, the receptionist gave them both a practiced smile and asked for Yu's name. His voice wavered, barely above a whisper, as he gave it. Joy slid the papers across the counter for him, handling the questions he couldn't bring himself to answer—insurance, appointment slot, confirming the referral to Dr. Nathaniel. Yu only nodded when prompted, trying not to fold in on himself beneath the fluorescent lights and the shuffle of other patients around them.
They were directed to the waiting area, a room lined with pale-blue chairs and magazines too out-of-date to distract. Yu sank into one of the corner seats, his knees pulled close, one hand absentmindedly rubbing circles over his belly. Joy sat right beside him, close enough that her shoulder pressed against his.
"You'll be okay."
She whispered again, her fingers finding his free hand.
"We'll get answers. That's all today is. Answers."
Yu nodded, though his throat was tight. Each beep from the distant monitors, each name called over the intercom, rattled through him. His heart drummed faster than the steady clinic clock.
Finally, his name was called. Joy squeezed his hand and stood with him, her warmth anchoring him as they followed the nurse down a corridor. The air only seemed to grow colder the further they walked, until they were ushered into the exam room.
The walls were cream-colored, lined with cabinets and a single monitor ready to display images he wasn't sure he could bear to see. The doctor entered shortly after—Dr. Nathaniel, polite, professional, eyes quick but not unkind behind his glasses. He greeted them, asked Yu to sit up on the table, and began the motions of checking vitals, pulse, blood pressure.
But with each step, the weight grew.
Yu's pulse jumped under the gloves of Dr. Nathaniel. His breath caught when the doctor noted it aloud. When Nathaniel prepared the ultrasound machine, wheeling it closer, Yu felt his entire chest seize tight—anticipation, dread, fear, love all at once.
"Are you ready?"
The doctor asked softly.
Yu's hands clenched the hem of his shirt, his voice barely audible.
"...Yeah."
The cool gel touched his skin, and with it, the weight of reality pressed down harder than ever.
Dr. Nathaniel's tone shifted into that measured cadence Yu had come to dread—professional, steady, unshaken.
"The three heartbeats are steady."
He began, eyes fixed on the monitor.
"All three are measuring within expected range for your gestational age. That's very good news. No evidence of growth restriction."
Yu blinked, his mind tripping over the phrase. All three. It echoed in his skull like a hammer.
Nathaniel adjusted the probe, the cool pressure dragging slightly across Yu's skin.
"Fluid levels look normal. Placental positioning is fine, no sign of detachment or stress at this time."
His gloved hand tapped a key, capturing the first flickering image—three distinct, pulsing lights. To Yu, they looked like stars, impossibly bright on the dark backdrop. To the doctor, they were data points.
"Triplets are considered high risk…"
Nathaniel continued, voice neither harsh nor soft, simply clinical.
"The maternal body—especially one not originally adapted for carrying pregnancy—will experience higher strain. More fatigue, more instability with hormones. You'll need closer monitoring. Bi-weekly, perhaps even weekly visits."
Yu's stomach twisted. His fingers pressed deeper into the crumpled edge of his shirt, as though he could hold himself together by sheer force.
The doctor's words went on like a steady current.
"We'll need additional bloodwork to track hormone balance. There's the matter of nutritional intake—your body will require much more than a singleton pregnancy. And with three, we'll discuss weight gain targets to keep both you and the babies safe."
Triplets. Three. High risk. Not originally adapted.
The phrases stacked one atop the other until Yu felt like they were pressing him through the exam table.
Joy tightened her grip on his free hand, the only anchor against the flood of medical terminology.
Nathaniel finally looked up from the monitor, his expression gentling slightly.
"You're doing well so far. But this won't be easy. Do you understand?"
Yu's throat burned. His lips parted, but all that came out was a thin whisper.
"…I understand."
Dr. Nathaniel's voice pressed on, steady and factual, every word another stone added to the pile weighing Yu down.
"With three fetuses, your risk of preterm labor rises significantly. We'll be monitoring your cervix length and uterine activity closely. Hospitalization isn't uncommon in the later months for cases like yours, especially when rest becomes vital."
He tapped another note into Yu's chart, his pen scratching almost louder than his voice.
"You'll need to adjust your activity—no heavy lifting, no undue exertion, and careful management of stress. Bedrest could become necessary. We'll also need to plan for delivery options early. Triplets almost never go full term, and cesarean delivery is the most likely route."
Yu's chest hollowed out. The words blurred together—risk, hospitalization, delivery options, preterm. His nails dug into the side of the exam table's paper sheet, crinkling it.
"Nutrition is crucial. High-protein diet, additional supplements. I'll have you meet with a dietician before your next appointment. We need to prepare your body for the demands ahead."
Joy's thumb rubbed slow circles over the back of his hand, grounding him even as his vision tunneled.
Nathaniel finally set the probe aside, his gloves snapping faintly as he stripped them off.
"You're carrying three lives, Mr. Beckham. It's extraordinary—but it will take everything from you if we're not careful. Do not underestimate this."
His gaze sharpened, firm but not unkind.
"Weekly check-ins. Daily rest. No exceptions."
Yu nodded. Or at least his head moved in something that resembled a nod. Inside, though, he was falling apart.
Triplets.
The word echoed clinical, cold, and final.
He was thrown backward into memories that weren't supposed to belong in this life.
Yukio Hokohayashi, belly round with Taro and Kenji, heart alight with anticipation. He remembered how thrilling it had been—reading every baby book he could scavenge, circling pages in catalogs of tiny socks and onesies, lying awake naming stars and naming babies with the man who had given him that future. Their nights had been full of whispered laughter, of arguing whether Kenji would be a painter or Taro would inherit his father's quiet strength.
It had been joy. Pure joy.
But now…
Yu's stomach turned. Here he was again, another set of lives sparking within him, but the contrast was brutal. He had no extra income—his Instagram page was still a hobby, not a source of stability. He had no partner to lean on, no warm voice whispering names into the night. Only DK01's cold directives and Joy's temporary warmth. His body felt weaker than it ever had as Yukio, more drained, more strained, and the danger circling him was relentless.
Back then, even when pregnant with quadruplets—four, impossibly four—he hadn't felt this fragile. He'd been terrified, yes, but at least he'd had friends to buffer the fear. Until it ended in blood. Until he died.
Now?
Now it felt like he was being crushed. His lips trembled as he whispered inwardly.
'Why can't it just be one? Why can't I have just one?'