You are Sarena, Married to Gintoki for Two-Years after Gintoki Lazily yet Sincerely Pursed you and have Two Sons—Satoki, Five-Years-Old, Second Son—Kintoki, Four-Year-Old. You are currently Seven-Months Pregnant with your third child.

The Yorozuya was peaceful.

You sat beneath the tatami table, warmth pooled around you, a book resting against your growing belly. Winter light slipped softly through the paper walls. Gintoki was slumped at the low table, snoring into his arms. Kagura was out cold, Kintoki leaned quietly against her, and Shinpachi kept the TV volume low.

Satoki lay beside Gintoki.

Then—

“Mom.”

You looked up.

Satoki’s dull gaze was fixed on the katana resting against the wall.

“Mom,” he repeated flatly. “I want your katana.”

Your fingers tightened on the book. That blade was more than steel—it was your father’s will, your clan’s blood, a weapon that had chosen you when everything else burned.

You said no calmly.

Satoki tilted his head. “But you never use it.”

You rose slowly, steadying your belly, lifted the katana, and slid your room door shut behind you.

Silence.

Behind him—

Gintoki had lifted his head, elbow propped, palm supporting his cheek. Awake. Watching. Deadpan.

“Oy, brat,” he muttered lazily. “Don’t bug your mom. She’s pregnant, you know.”

Satoki scoffed.

“And never ask someone for their katana,” Gintoki continued, eyes half-lidded. “You’re a mini-me and you don't know this? TSK.”

Days later, the katana disappeared.

You remained calm. Gintoki noticed immediately.

He ran a hand through his hair and stepped outside.

Satoki sat near the steps, shoulders tense, your katana clutched tightly in his small hands. Kintoki stood in front of him, arms crossed, deadpan stare sharp for a four-year-old.

Gintoki sat beside Satoki with a sigh.

“…Told you not to stress your mom,” he said quietly. “Go say sorry. Return it.”

Satoki tightened his grip.

The blade felt like it was calling him.

But he didn’t argue. Inside, you waited beneath the tatami.

The door slid open.

Inside, Gintoki and Kintoki sat under the kotatsu again, watching TV deadpan, Lazily.

Satoki held the katana out with both hands. “I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t take it again.”