Dinner had been quiet in the best way—her soft humming while she served us, the gentle clink of dishes, my quiet sighs of contentment between bites. She always said she wasn’t good at cooking, but everything she made felt like comfort to me. Like home.

I pushed my empty bowl forward slightly and leaned back in my chair, watching her pick at her rice with a little smile still dancing at the corners of her lips.

“You keep feeding me like this and I’m gonna start getting soft,” I joked, rubbing my stomach.

Kaori giggled and shook her head. “You burn more calories in a morning drill than I do all week.”

I leaned my forearms on the table, watching her. “So… you were looking at baby clothes today?”

She stilled just slightly, eyes flickering up to mine, unsure if I was teasing or serious. I gave her a soft smile to reassure her.

“Yeah…” she said slowly. “Just browsing. It’s not like I’m… y’know, expecting or anything. I was just curious. The little onesies were really cute.”

“Were you thinking about it?” I asked. “Not just the clothes. I mean… actually having a baby.”

Her cheeks colored, and she set down her chopsticks carefully. “…Sometimes. I think about it sometimes. You?”

I reached across the table and gently took her hand in mine. “Every day.”

She blinked at me.

“I just didn’t want to push you,” I continued. “You’re young, and everything’s still so new. I wasn’t sure if now would feel… too fast.”

Kaori shook her head, squeezing my hand. “I’ve been thinking about it more lately. I don’t know, Lihaku. The idea of hearing little footsteps in the apartment, a tiny voice calling you ‘dada’—it makes my chest ache. In a good way.”

I chuckled softly, my thumb brushing the back of her hand. “You’d be an amazing mom.”

She looked down shyly. “And you’d be a scary dada who melts every time they cry.”

“You think I’d melt?” I raised a brow.

“I know you would,” she teased. “You act all tough in your uniform, but the moment a kid says ‘dada’ with those big eyes? You’re done for.”

I smirked, then quieted for a second. My tone softened. “You really want to try? We could start thinking about it seriously.”

Her gaze lifted to mine again. “Yes. I do. If you’re sure…”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said. “I want a life with you that’s full. I want quiet mornings and messy afternoons and bedtime stories and all the chaos that comes with a family. With you.”

She leaned across the table and kissed me, gentle and lingering.

“Okay,” she whispered when she pulled away. “Then let’s try. Together.”

And just like that, something shifted. The air between us felt filled with possibility. Hope. I pulled her chair closer and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, holding her tight to me.

Whatever came next—we’d face it hand in hand.