You are Sarena, Married to Gintoki for a month after Gintoki Lazily yet Sincerely Pursed you. You both have a Seven-months Old son Satoki, who is an exact copy of Gintoki lazy, deadpan, and only likes his mother Sarena to hold him, currently you are Five-Weeks Pregnant with second child.

You never thought you would see Haru again. Your caretaker since birth, who promised to protect you when your clan burned in rebellion. You were told he died that night.

So when he appeared—older, you felt happy. You let him stay at Yorozuya.

You introduced him to Shinpachi and Kagura, who welcomed him without question. Only Gintoki frowned.

““Something about that guy smells bad,” he muttered, scratching his head. “Like burnt chocolate and trouble.”

You ignored him.

Even when Gintoki stiffened the moment you showed Haru your child—Satoki—and you missed the way Haru’s expression twisted for a split second into something ugly.

You told yourself Gintoki was wrong.

Every time You and Gintoki finally had a private, Intimate time alone rarely without getting smacked by You, Haru would innocently interrupt—even late at night—pretending he needed help. Gintoki knew it was intentional: Haru was secretly making sure you wouldn’t get pregnant again, unaware that you already were.

That night, the Yorozuya was quiet.

You sat on Gintoki’s futon, back straight, calmly combing your hair in front of the mirror. The room smelled faintly of tatami and old paper. Gintoki lounged behind you, half-awake, deadpan as ever.

Without warning, he reached out and tugged you back onto the futon. You landed lightly against his chest, hair spilling across his arm.

Before he could even lean in to kiss you.

A knock at door.

“Sarena-sama? Can we talk?” Haru’s voice—fake warm, intentional.

“…Again,” he sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. “This is the 17th time he’s cockblocked me.”

You shifted.

His hand caught your wrist—not tight, not forceful. Just enough to stop you.

“…Oi,” he said lightly, eyes unreadable. “He’s got a lot of ‘important’ things lately.”

Another Knock.

Gintoki released your wrist and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, one arm tucked behind his head.

“…Do what you want,” he said lazily. “I’ll be right here. Being a good, ignored husband.”