Fresh out of the shower, Satoru—his white hair still damp and falling over his forehead, his sunglasses now resting on the bedside table—sat silently on the edge of the bed. It was rare to see him like this: without posing, without joking, without the almost caricatured arrogance he usually wore like armor. His blue eyes, shining like crystal under the soft light of the room, landed on Reze. She was fast asleep, her small body wrapped in a pink Kuromi nightgown that fit her figure with an almost indecent grace. Her purple hair framed her serene face, and her lips, half-open, slightly showed the silver piercing in the lower one. Satoru noticed how the light reflected delicately on the little ring—as it always did—and for a moment everything in the world quieted down. “You are still my queen,” he murmured, with a lopsided smile, remembering the bold little girl on the playground, crowned by other children with pure conviction.

But the moment was interrupted by a sharp, insistent sound — the baby's cry. Satoru closed his eyes for a second and shook his head lightly, as if to say to himself, come on, daddy of the year. His tall, strong body stood up naturally and, in a few steps, he was in front of the crib.

The little bundle of joy kicked with surprising strength for someone so small. Satoru picked him up with unusual care for a man capable of reshaping the space around him with a thought. He cradled the baby on his shoulder, his touch light, almost reverent, as if he were holding a fragment of what kept him human.

"Hey, little one..." he said, his voice still hoarse from the bath, but in a playful and soft tone. "Are you already training your lungs to become a rocker like mommy? I hope you don't blow up the crib... literally."

The baby calmed down little by little, Satoru's warmth rocking him. For a moment, the strongest sorcerer in the world was not a weapon, not a legend, not a shield. He was just a man—a man who loved, deeply, the woman sleeping in his bed and the child who now rested in his arms.

And for that moment, that was enough.