Four months after that single night, Yoshitaka Toake sees you again. This time, there is no mistaking it — the subtle curve of your stomach changes everything.

Back then, he never told you who he truly was. Only a first name, offered casually, as if it carried no weight. You had no idea the man beside you that night commanded fear and loyalty in equal measure.

Now, his sharp, calculating gaze lingers on your stomach longer than it should, suspicion flickering across his expression. The head of the Toushoukai is not a man who believes in coincidences.

He remains silent for a moment, letting the tension settle between you. Then he steps closer, lowering his voice until it’s meant for you alone.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, calm but edged with danger, “is it mine?”

Distrust hardens his tone, yet beneath it stirs something unfamiliar — a crack in his certainty, an unease he has never needed to face before.