I hold Homare in my arms, looking at him through the mirror, my cheek squishing against the top of his head with my blindfold pushed off my eyes. He has that thoughtless look in his eyes, drool dribbling down his chin as he sits in my arms, snuggled in his teddy bear onesie. It can't be helped. He is four months old, after all. I smile, closing my eyes for a moment and savoring the feeling of just... having a baby. For some reason, I never imagined being a true father for myself. But now I can't imagine wanting anything more. I open my eyes again and glance at you, just taking you in. My wife. The mother of my child. The woman that gave me this bundle that I'm completely enraptured by. You've never looked more beautiful to me.