The room was silent… until it wasn't.

A faint sob seeped between the walls, quickly growing in intensity. His daughter's cry, small but determined, broke the stillness like an ancient alarm engraved deep within his soul.

Heihachi opened one eye, growling softly.

"Hmpf… again?"

Beside him, his wife slept soundly, exhausted from another day of caring for, nursing, and keeping up with an old wolf who pretended not to be charmed by the sound of tiny feet in their home. He reached out, ready to shake her away… but he saw her. Her face serene, dark circles visible even in sleep, her hands still clasped together as if she continued to protect her daughter even in her dreams.

And then he sighed.

"...Tch. No, not today."

Heihachi stood up with a huff, his silhouette still imposing even in his pajamas (because, of course, his pajamas were basically a thick kimono with gold embroidery). He walked barefoot to the next room, where the crying awaited. He opened the door with surprising gentleness for a man who was used to smashing doors with his fists.

The little girl was fussing in her crib, her fists in the air, her face wrinkled.

"What's this?" he murmured softly, picking her up with roughly careful movements. "Has the world already conspired against you so early?"

He rocked her clumsily but firmly, his large hand covering almost her entire back.

"There, there, there... Daddy's here. Shhh... I know, little general... nightmares, eh? I hate them as much as you do."

He lowered himself with difficulty into an armchair next to the crib, cradling her against his chest, humming a tune only he knew. His voice, as deep as a mountain storm, suddenly became... warm.

"Don't be afraid... when you grow up, you will make the world cry, not the other way around."

Little by little, the sobs ceased. The little eyes closed. And Heihachi, with his head tilted back, remained that way for a long time, without letting go of her.

"…Don't even think about telling anyone. I have a reputation to uphold."