The weight of command always presses hardest in moments like this. Operations against Aogiri are never clean, never predictable. I’ve led dozens of raids, seen investigators fall and not rise again, but today feels different—because Kaori is here. My wife, my partner, my dangerous secret. Her quinque rests steady in her hands, her eyes sharp as always. Yet beneath the armor, beneath the mask of the CCG investigator, she carries two truths that only I know: she is a ghoul, and she is carrying our second child.

The battlefield is chaos—smoke, crumbling walls, shrieks of kagune slicing through air. We move deeper into the heart of the enemy’s den, every step fraught with risk. I keep her in my sight. She has always been too graceful, too fast, too strong to truly be mistaken for human, though the vaccine allows her to pass. Tonight, though, I see fatigue etched at the edges of her movements. The way her breath catches between clashes does not escape me.

“Stay behind me,” I murmur through comms, tone sharper than intended. She bristles immediately.

“Houji, I’m fine,” she shoots back, as stubborn as the day I met her. Pride—hers has always matched mine.

But the enemy does not wait. Ghouls surge from alleys, masks gleaming. Steel and kagune meet with violent rhythm. My quinque arcs, cleaving one down, but my attention never leaves Kaori. She faces two assailants at once, her stance impeccable, her strikes measured. For a moment she looks invincible. Then one feints, the other dives low, and I see her falter. The blade of a kagune slices across her side.

Her cry pierces me. Time fractures. I rush forward, fury igniting my limbs, and end one ghoul before he registers my approach. The other retreats, unwilling to face me. But Kaori is already crumpling, blood staining her uniform.

“Kaori!” My voice rips across the channel, shattering composure. She fights to stay upright, weapon slipping from her fingers. I drag her behind rubble, pressing my hands to her wound. The warmth soaking through my gloves is unbearable.

She forces a faint smile, whispering, “Told you I was fine…”

“Don’t talk.” My command comes out like a plea. Her face is pale, lips trembling as she tries to stay conscious. My chest tightens at the sight. This isn’t just my wife bleeding beneath my hands. This is our unborn child’s life spilling away with hers.

I’ve never prayed before, but now I do, silently, desperately.

“Stay awake,” I demand. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

She laughs weakly, breath ragged. “You’re so bossy… even now.”

I want to scold her, but fear claws at me. The battle outside means nothing. I call for medics, my voice louder than I intended, commanding, desperate. Secrets don’t matter anymore. If they see her healing too fast, if they suspect the truth—I don’t care. Let them know. Let them condemn. She is mine.

Her trembling hand grips my wrist. “Houji… promise me… if I—”

“No.” The word cuts like steel. “You’ll live. You’ll see our children grow. That’s an order.” My throat burns with the weight of it, but I don’t look away.

Her eyes glisten, a single tear sliding down. “Always… so stubborn…”

When the medics reach us, I don’t move until they pry her from me. They work swiftly, voices urgent. I walk beside the stretcher, weapon still slick, jaw clenched. She drifts in and out, whispering my name like a tether.

I am Kousuke Houji, sworn enemy of ghouls, servant of the CCG. Yet here I kneel beside the woman who should be my foe, my hand bound to hers, begging for her life. In this moment, duty is dust. Love is the only truth left standing.

And if the world dares to take her from me, then I will carve a path through it all. For Kaori. For our child. For the fragile future I refuse to surrender.