Page 52 of Kotori

"That fox is Inari's messenger," she says, pointing to a stone figure. "He carries prayers to the rice goddess. But you gotta be careful because sometimes you get exactly what you ask for instead of what you want."

"Aya-chan, you're mixing up the stories again," Mizuki corrects gently, but she's smiling. "The fox messengers carry wishes, not prayers. There's a difference."

"Is not!" Aya protests. "Takeshi-ojisan told me!"

"Takeshi-ojisan tells you lots of things," Kohana observes, looking up from photographing the shrine details. "Remember when he said the kappa in the pond would steal your soul if you didn't bow first?"

"That was different! And I still bow to the pond just in case."

Kaito chuckles as he joins our little group. "Takeshi has always enjoyed dramatic storytelling when it comes to you girls. The truth is usually less exciting."

"But more reliable," Mizuki adds, earning herself an indignant look from Aya.

I watch the easy banter between them, the way they tease and correct each other with obvious affection. This is what I never had: siblings who know your stories, parents who share your history, the comfortable rhythms of people who've loved each other for years.

"What would you ask for if you could have anything?" I ask Aya as we approach the shrine.

She scrunches up her face in concentration. "For our family to stay together forever. And maybe for you and Papa to have a baby so I can teach it stuff. And for Mizuki to stop being sad all the time."

The casual mention of babies is a shock. My breath catches, and for a moment the mountain air feels too thin. A baby. With Kaito. The image flashes unbidden through my mind, holding a dark-haired infant while his daughters crowd around, becoming a real family in the most fundamental way possible.

"Paige-mama?" Aya tugs at my hand, concerned by my sudden stillness. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart," I manage, my voice slightly hoarse. "That's a very sweet wish."

But I'm not fine. The longing that swept through me at her innocent words terrifies me with its intensity. When did I start wanting that? When did the idea of carrying his child become something that makes my chest tight with yearning?

"I'm not sad all the time," Mizuki protests from behind us, thankfully oblivious to my internal chaos.

"You were yesterday," Kohana points out.

"That's different. That's frustrated, not sad."

I force myself to focus on their banter, but my hands shake slightly as I approach the shrine. The wanting that Aya's words awakened feels dangerous, like opening a door I'm not ready to walk through.

Before I can dwell on it further, Kaito appears at my elbow with gentle authority. "Make your wishes quickly," he says. "We want to reach the summit before the afternoon crowds."

When his hand settles on my lower back, I wonder if he heard what Aya said. If he noticed my reaction. The thought makes heat flood my cheeks.

I follow Aya's instructions for the proper ritual, touched by how seriously she takes it. When I close my eyes, gratitude fills my chest instead of requests. This family, this love, this sense of belonging, I have everything I could ever want already.

As we continue climbing, the conversations flow naturally between all of us, sometimes including everyone, sometimes breaking into smaller groups as the path narrows or someone stops to catch their breath.

Aya appoints herself tour guide, pointing out shrine markers and explaining their significance with confidence that's only occasionally corrected by her older sisters.

Halfway up, we find a quiet area with benches overlooking Kyoto spread below us like a painting. The view would be breathtaking if I could focus on anything other than the way Kaito's shirt has become nearly transparent with perspiration.

He produces a thermos of iced tea, bless Hayashi's foresight, while I distribute the food, trying not to stare as he rolls his sleeves higher, revealing more of his forearms where sweat has gathered in the crease of his elbows.

"This heat is insane," Kohana complains, pressing the cold thermos against her forehead before pouring herself tea.

Kaito settles on the bench beside me, and the scent of his cologne mixed with clean sweat makes my head spin. When he leans forward to help Aya with her drink, the damp fabric pulls taut across his shoulders, and I can clearly see the outline of the dragon, etched in dark ink beneath the cotton.

As he straightens, his shirt rides up slightly in the back, and I catch a glimpse of the handle of what looks like a knife tucked against his spine, hidden beneath the casual facade. The reminder that even while disguised as a “normal dad”, Keito is still a dangerous man sends a thrill through me.

I force myself to look at the view instead, but when I chance a glance back, Kaito's eyes are on me. His mouth curves in the barest hint of a knowing smirk, like he's perfectly aware of what I was staring at and exactly how it affected me.

Heat floods my cheeks, making the oppressive summer sun even more unbearable.

"This is nice," Mizuki says, settling on my other side. "Just family time. No schedules or expectations."

"Papa works so hard," Kohana observes, glancing at her father as he helps Aya unwrap her onigiri. "He doesn't get to just be with us very often."

I watch Kaito in his casual weekend clothes, dark jeans and that crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looks so normal like this, so far from the intimidating yakuza businessman in tailored suits.

Just a father enjoying time with his daughters, patient and attentive as Aya chatters about everything and nothing.

It's this version of him that undoes me completely.

Not the powerful yakuza leader or the possessive lover, but this gentle man who remembers exactly how each daughter likes her food prepared and automatically steadies Aya when she stumbles on the uneven path.

"He loves you all so much," I murmur.

"He loves you too," Kohana says matter-of-factly. "He gets this weird smile when you're not looking."

The observation makes heat rise in my cheeks. "Is it that obvious?"

"Pretty obvious," Mizuki says with a slight smirk. "He's been way less grumpy since you got here. Like, he actually laughs at dinner now instead of just checking his phone."

Before I can respond to that observation, Aya comes running back with sticky fingers from her fruit, launching herself into Kaito's lap without ceremony.

"Papa," she says, "are we always going to be together like this? Forever and ever?"

"What do you think, hime?" he asks, smoothing her hair back from her face with infinite gentleness.

"I think yes," she declares. "Because families don't break apart when they love each other. And we all love each other now, right? Even Mizuki-nee loves Paige-mama."

The summit shrine sits surrounded by ancient trees and stone fox statues, guardian spirits watching over visitors who've made the full pilgrimage. We're hot and tired but triumphant, Aya proud of completing the entire hike without complaint.

"Make a wish," Kohana instructs, showing me how to properly approach the shrine with offerings and prayers.

I close my eyes and let gratitude wash over me instead of requesting anything new. This family, this love, this sense of belonging I never knew I was missing, I have everything I could ever want already.

When I open my eyes, Kaito is watching me with an expression that makes my knees weak. Possession and tenderness combined, the look of a man who's found exactly what he was seeking.

"What did you wish for?" he asks quietly while the girls explore the shrine grounds.

"Nothing," I admit. "Just gave thanks for what I already have."

"Wise woman." His hand finds the small of my back, that casual claiming touch that still makes heat race through my veins. "Though there are always ways to make good things even better."

The possessive undertone in his voice makes my stomach clench with familiar wariness, but before I can ask what he means, Aya comes running back with a handful of colorful leaves she's collected.

"Look what I found! Can we press these in a book so they last forever?"

"Of course," I tell her. "We'll make a memory book of today."

"With all our pictures and the leaves and everything?"

"Everything."

She bounces with excitement, then suddenly grows serious. "Paige-mama? Are you happy you came to live with us?" The question is so earnest, so hopeful.

"More happy than I ever thought possible, sweetheart."

"Good," she says with satisfaction. "Because we're never letting you go."

That evening, after dinner and baths and the gentle chaos of bedtime routines, I find myself in Aya's room for story time. It's become our nightly ritual, all three girls curled up on Aya's bed while I read from whatever book has captured their current attention.

Tonight it's a collection of Japanese folk tales, stories about brave princesses and wise animals and the spirits that live in sacred places.

Aya is practically asleep against my side, while Kohana and Mizuki listen with the focused attention of daughters who've learned to treasure these quiet family moments.

"One more story," Aya mumbles sleepily. "The one about the fox bride."

"You're too tired for another story," I say gently, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Tomorrow night, I promise."

"Will you tuck me in?" she asks. "Like a real mama?"

The question hits me right in the chest. "Of course, sweetheart."

I help settle her under her covers, adjusting the blankets the way she likes them, making sure her favorite stuffed animal is within reach. When I lean down to kiss her forehead, she wraps her small arms around my neck and holds tight.

"I love you, Paige-mama," she whispers against my ear. "Thank you for choosing us."

"I love you too, baby girl. Sweet dreams."

Kohana and Mizuki hug me goodnight with equal warmth, and as I turn off the lights and close the door, I'm overwhelmed by the completeness of this moment. This is what I never knew I was missing, the weight of being loved and needed, the responsibility and joy of being someone's safe harbor.

In the hallway, I find Kaito waiting for me, leaning against the wall with an expression of deep contentment.

"Happy?" he asks softly.

"More than I ever thought possible," I admit.

"Good." He straightens and moves closer, his hand finding mine. "Because this is only the beginning, kotori. Today was just a preview of what our future looks like."

"What do you mean?"

"Come to bed," he says instead of answering. "Let me show you how proud I am of the mother you've become."