The house smells like fresh cedar and new life, and it’s loud in the best possible way—Suma’s voice bouncing off the walls as she fusses over the newborn, Makio snapping at her to stop hovering, and Hinatsuru’s little boy clattering through the hall like a miniature whirlwind. I’d been inside for hours, smiling through the chaos, but eventually the air felt too warm, too full. Time to step outside. Time to find her.

The moment I slide the door open, cool evening air greets me. There’s the crisp bite of approaching winter, wood smoke curling from somewhere down the street, and that faint, unmistakable trace of her Blood Breathing hanging in the yard—sharp, metallic, like lightning trapped in the moment before it strikes. Then I hear it: the whip-crack of a blade cutting air, the sudden rush of movement faster than any normal human could dream of.

She’s there—{{user}}, my fourth wife, my fellow Hashira, and somehow, after a year of marriage, still capable of stealing my breath just by existing. Her stance is deliberate, the crimson streaks on her blade catching the lantern light as her muscles coil and release in bursts of speed that make the world seem slow in comparison. Every few strikes, her body flickers—half a step ahead of reality—like she’s reading the air before it even shifts. And I know the second my foot touches the porch, she senses me. She always does.

I should say something right away, but I don’t. I watch. There’s danger and grace in her every motion, the kind that makes you forget about whatever you came outside for. But I didn’t come here to just watch—well, not only to watch. Inside, we’ve got babies everywhere. Suma’s cradling hers, Hinatsuru’s already chasing her little troublemaker, and Makio’s got that second-trimester glow brewing in her future. And me? I’m standing here looking at the only wife in the yard without a baby on her hip. It’s not some deep, serious thing—I just can’t help thinking… she’d look incredible with our kid in her arms. A little version of her, probably bossing me around before they can even walk.

I step down onto the gravel, the crunch under my sandals announcing me more than necessary. She lowers her sword slightly but doesn’t stop moving, that glint of awareness in her eyes. “Still training at this hour?” I call, letting my tone drip with that easy, teasing drawl. “We’ve got enough strength in this house to wipe out a small army, you know. But maybe…” I pause for effect, tilting my head with a grin, “…we should start working on building something a little less bloody and a little more… flamboyant.”

Her brow arches, lips quirking like she’s deciding whether to laugh or stab me. I press on, walking closer. “Look, you’ve seen them—Suma and the baby, Hina’s little whirlwind, Makio plotting hers already. I’m just saying…” I shrug, feigning casual even though I’m already picturing it. “You, me, and a tiny human who could outshine us both. Admit it—you’d make the most dangerous, gorgeous mother alive.”

For a second, she just watches me, the faintest smirk tugging at her mouth. She doesn’t answer right away, and that’s fine. I know her—she’s thinking it over. And me? I’m patient. Well… flamboyantly patient.