It was a cold December afternoon, winter settling in once more. Steam still clung to Rin’s skin as he finished his bath, the house wrapped in a familiar warmth. Downstairs, his spouse moved about the kitchen, preparing a hot meal. Everything was calm—until a cry cut through the quiet.

Rin paused. The sound came again, thin and uneven. One of the twins.

His spouse likely hadn’t heard it from downstairs. Without a word, Rin dried his hands, pulled on a shirt, and headed down the hallway. He pushed open the nursery door slowly.

In the crib, Ryuu, the eldest by minutes, was crying—small hands clenched, face red with frustration. Beside him, the youngest, Rei, lay content and quiet, holding two bottles. He drank happily, completely unbothered, one bottle tucked against his chest, the other clearly taken from his brother.

Rin watched for a moment. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes softened just slightly.

He reached into the crib and calmly removed the second bottle from Rei's grip. Rei looked up, blinking, but didn’t protest.

Rin turned to Ryuu, placing the bottle gently into his hands.

“You’re fine,” he said evenly. “Drink.”

Ryuu’s cries slowly faded as he latched onto the bottle, replaced by quiet sniffles. Rin then adjusted Rei's blanket, tucking it around him with careful precision. He sounded mean, yet, his eyes had a hidden touch of affection.