Page 68 of Kotori

Epilogue - Paige

The first thing I notice when I wake is the gentle flutter of movement beneath my hand.

After twenty weeks of pregnancy, these morning greetings from our child have become my favorite way to start the day. The distinct bump now clearly visible beneath the silk sheets, impossible to hide and no longer something we're trying to conceal.

The second thing I notice is my husband's hand resting protectively over my rounded belly, even in sleep.

Kaito lies beside me in our bed, face peaceful in the early morning light filtering through silk curtains. At some point during the night, his palm found its way to where our child grows, fingers spread wide in unconscious claiming. Even unconscious, he protects what's his.

"Good morning, little one," I whisper to the curve of my stomach, covering his hand with mine. The pregnancy is now impossible to miss, my body changing daily in ways that fascinate and occasionally terrify me.

His heir. The son he's dreamed of since the night he first touched me. The future oyabun of the Matsumoto-kai, growing safe and warm beneath our joined hands.

"Talking to someone I should know?" Kaito's voice is rough with sleep, but his eyes are alert as they focus on our hands.

"Just letting him know we're awake."

"Him?" One eyebrow arches with amused skepticism. "Dr. Fujiwara said we'll find out for certain next week."

"Call it maternal intuition. Or wishful thinking." I stretch against silk sheets that probably cost more than my old monthly salary, enjoying the lazy luxury of morning in bed with my husband. "Though I suppose I should be diplomatically hoping for healthy, regardless of gender."

"I have three beautiful daughters. Another would be a blessing." But his thumb traces circles over my stomach with the reverence of a man who's dreamed of sons to carry his name. "Though I admit, the idea of teaching a boy to fight, to lead, to protect what matters most..."

"Gets you ridiculously excited?"

"Among other things." He leans over to kiss me, soft and sweet. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. The nausea is completely gone now. Just the backaches and the constant need to pee that Dr. Fujiwara warned about."

"Excellent. Because we have a meeting with the Yamazaki group at ten, lunch with Mizuki to discuss her university applications, and the quarterly business review this afternoon."

I groan dramatically, pulling a pillow over my face. "Can't we just stay in bed and let me be pregnant in peace?"

"Unfortunately, being married to a yakuza oyabun involves occasional responsibilities." He tugs the pillow away, grinning at my expression. "Though I promise to make it up to you tonight."

"You'd better. I'm carrying your heir. I deserve royal treatment."

"You get royal treatment every day."

It's true. In the year since our wedding, Kaito has treated me like the most precious thing in his world. Not because I'm fragile, but because I'm valuable—his partner in every sense, the woman who stands beside him as he builds the Matsumoto empire into something that will last generations.

The ceremony itself had been perfect in its intimate simplicity. Traditional vows in the family shrine with only those who mattered most present.

Before the ceremony, Kaito had surprised me by adding my late mother's photograph to the family shrine, placing her among the Matsumoto ancestors.

"She should be here to see her daughter become part of this family," he'd said quietly.

It was the moment I knew with absolute certainty that this man understood what mattered to me, even the painful absences I'd learned to live with.

"You're different here," Mizuki had said afterward, watching me help Aya with her calligraphy practice. "Like you finally found where you belong."

She was right. I had found where I belonged. Not just geographically, but in every way that mattered. Wife, mother, partner to a man who ruled his world with intelligence and controlled violence. The woman who'd arrived seeking temporary employment had become permanent family.

"What are you thinking about?" Kaito asks, studying my face with the attention to detail that makes him such an effective leader.

"How much has changed. How different everything is from what I expected when I arrived at your door eighteen months ago."

"Regrets?"

"None. Well, maybe one small one."

His body tenses slightly, the automatic response of a man who's learned that complacency can be deadly. "What?"

"I regret that it took me so long to understand what you were offering.

All those months of fighting what I wanted, what we both knew was inevitable.

" I trace patterns on his chest, following scars that tell stories of a life lived dangerously.

"I wasted time being afraid of who I might become instead of embracing it. "

"You needed time to choose freely. Coercion creates resentment, not love. What we have now is stronger because you came to it willingly."

"Still. I could have saved us both some frustration if I'd been braver sooner."

"Or you could have said yes without truly understanding what it meant, and resented me later when the reality became clear." He captures my wandering hand, bringing it to his lips. "The timing was perfect. We both became who we needed to be to make this work."

A soft knock at the bedroom door interrupts our conversation. "Okaa-san? Otou-san?" Aya's voice, still slightly formal despite a year of marriage making me officially her mother. "Hayashi-san says breakfast is ready, and Mizuki-nee is asking about university brochures."

"Tell her we'll be down in twenty minutes," Kaito calls back. "And remind her that patience is a virtue."

"She says to remind you that early admission deadlines wait for no one, even yakuza oyabun who like to sleep late with their pregnant wives."

I muffle laughter against Kaito's shoulder as he sighs with the long-suffering air of a man outnumbered by intelligent women.

"Nineteen years old and already planning to run the world," he mutters.

"She gets it from her father. Though I suspect university will be good for her—a chance to be brilliant around people who don't automatically defer to her because of the family name."

"As long as she remembers where home is."

"She will. They all will. This is their anchor, their safe harbor. Just like it became mine."

We dress together with the comfortable intimacy of a couple who've learned each other's rhythms, preparing for a day that will blend domestic concerns with the complex business of running a yakuza empire.

I choose a flowing silk dress that accommodates my growing belly while remaining professional enough for meetings, add the jade pendant Kaito gave me after our wedding, slip my black diamond wedding ring onto my finger beside the matching band we exchanged at the altar.

The woman in the mirror looks polished, confident, every inch the yakuza oyabun's wife. But it's not a costume anymore, it's simply who I am.

Downstairs, controlled chaos reigns in the dining room.

Mizuki has spread university materials across the table, comparing programs while eating breakfast. Kohana reads study notes in three languages, switching between English, Japanese, and French with casual expertise.

Aya draws elaborate pictures of what she insists are "baby brother's nursery designs," complete with crayon dragons and cherry blossoms.

"Okaa-san!" Aya abandons her artwork to throw herself into my arms. "Look what I drew for the baby!"

I study the colorful chaos with appropriate seriousness. "These are beautiful, sweetheart. Very dramatic."

"Baby brother needs to know he's part of a warrior family," she explains. "But also that there are pretty things, so he won't be scared."

"I think he'll love them."

"How are you feeling this morning?" Mizuki asks, looking up from her applications with the concern that's become habitual since we announced the pregnancy. "The baby was active during dinner last night—I could see your dress moving."

"He's definitely energetic," I say, placing a hand on my bump. "Dr. Fujiwara says that's a good sign."

All three girls have embraced the idea of a baby brother with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Aya is unreservedly excited, already planning elaborate games and activities.

Kohana approaches it with quiet anticipation, occasionally asking thoughtful questions about infant care and development.

Mizuki tries to maintain teenage cool, but I've caught her researching child development and making lists of "educational opportunities for optimal cognitive growth. "

They'll be wonderful big sisters.

"University decisions?" I ask, settling into my chair and accepting the bowl of miso soup Hayashi provides without being asked.

"I'm torn between Law at Kyoto University or the Legal Studies program at Tokyo University," Mizuki says, spreading out glossy brochures. "Both have excellent reputations, but the specializations are different."

"What does your heart tell you?" Kaito asks, appearing in the doorway with the casual authority that still makes my pulse quicken after all this time.

"That I want to understand every legal framework that impacts our family interests, both traditional and modern. I need to know how to protect us in changing times."

"Then either program will serve that goal. Choose based on which professors you want to learn from, which environment will challenge you most effectively."

"Tokyo University," she says without hesitation. "Their program includes international law and business regulation. We need someone who understands both Japanese and Western legal systems."

"There's your answer."

It's a perfect example of the parenting style Kaito's developed, offering guidance without imposing his will, helping his daughters find their own paths while ensuring those paths honor family loyalty. They'll all grow up strong and independent, but they'll never doubt where they belong.