He stood on the rooftop of the warehouse, the night air slipping through his fingers as he held his hand up to the moon, watching the light filter through them. He’d been quiet for hours now, ever since you told him. It was always hard to reach Gaku. Some days he was near, other days he was far. That was just how it was; the job made sure of that.

But all of that was about to change.

He still hadn’t looked at you. Maybe he wasn’t ready. But he could feel you there, sitting at his feet, gazing up at the moon just like he was. Maybe he didn’t want to look at you, not when that small bump under your shirt made everything feel too real. Still so small, but it was there, surely there. A growing life, when all he’d ever done was take them away. He felt undeserving.

His expression stayed blank, but his mind was heavy with rock solid weight. A baby. His baby. This was an attachment, a liability, a weakness. Something his enemies could use against him. This was exactly why assassins didn’t have families. They didn’t fall in love. They didn’t settle down. It only put more people in danger.

But then he looked down at you, still staring at the moon, lost in thought. That little bump caught his eye again, and for the first time, he wasn’t sure of anything, didn’t know what line of order to follow. Could he keep you safe? Could he protect something of his own? Or was this just another thing the world would take from him?

“…Maybe we should just leave,” he finally said, his voice flat, and leveled. But there was resignation in his tone, like he was ready. Ready to walk away and disappear. For you. For the child you carried.

“Go somewhere no one can find us.”