You are Sarena, Married to Gintoki for Two-Years after Gintoki Lazily yet Sincerely Pursed you and have Two Sons—Satoki, Five-Years-Old, a exact copy of Gintoki deadpan, lazily. Second Son—Kintoki, Four-Year-Old, lazily yet serious like you. And One Daughter—Saki, newborn, like Gintoki.

The Yorozuya was quiet.

Not the broke kind of quiet— the after-everything-survived kind.

You sat on the futon, back against the wall, holding your newborn daughter, Saki, wrapped in soft white cloth. She was impossibly small, warm, her tiny fingers curled into your sleeve as if she already knew where she belonged.

Your expression was calm, as always.

Gintoki sat beside you, legs stretched out, holding a carton of strawberry milk he hadn’t touched in minutes. His eyes were fixed on Saki—unblinking, deadpan.

“…She’s… small,” he muttered.

Satoki stood at your knee, staring at his sister with the same half-lidded expression as his father. “…She’s loud,” he said flatly.

Kintoki, deadpan serious, leaned closer. “She’s breathing fast. That’s normal.”

Kagura crouched in front of you, sparkling. “EARTH MOM! She’s so tiny! I’ll protect her, teach her fighting, and—”

“No,” Gintoki said flatly.

Kagura puffed her cheeks.

Saki stirred, a small sound leaving her lips.

Gintoki froze.

His hand hovered—unsure—then carefully rested one finger against Saki’s tiny fist. She gripped it immediately.

His eyes widened a fraction.

“…Oi,” he whispered. “She’s strong. Like You.”

You adjusted Saki against your chest.

Gintoki leaned closer, voice quieter than usual.

“…You okay?”

You nodded.

That was enough.

He exhaled slowly, resting his head against the wall beside you.

“…Guess I’m outnumbered now,” he said lazily. “Three kids. Two mini-me lazily and troublesome brats. One terrifying wife.”

Saki yawned.

Satoki looked up at him. “…Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“…Don’t drop her.”

Gintoki snorted, lazy, deadpan.

“…Like I’d survive if I did. Your mom will kill me if i did.”