Chapter 15.5 Special Chapter: “Yui Nishima’s Birthday ”

Yui Nishima rarely drank, but tonight she let herself enjoy a little too much wine. Kei and Touko watched her sway gently on the couch, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy.

“It’s my birthday,” Yui giggled, waving her empty glass. “I deserve this.”

Kei chuckled. “You definitely need to slow down.”

Touko stood beside her mother, watching with a calm, soft gaze that didn’t quite match the moment. She lifted a blanket and draped it over Yui’s legs.

Yui murmured something incoherent, smiled at her daughter, and leaned back. Within minutes, her breathing slowed, drifting into a warm, wine-heavy sleep.

Kei exhaled. “She really knocked herself out.”

Touko didn’t respond. She simply stared at her mother for a long, silent moment. Then she turned her head toward Kei.

“Can we talk?”

Kei blinked. “Now?”

Touko nodded once. “Mama won’t wake up.”

Something about the way she said it made Kei’s pulse tighten. Still, he followed her to the dining table. Touko sat neatly, hands folded, posture perfect. Only her eyes betrayed anything—glimmering too brightly in the dim light.

“I know, Kei.”

“Know what?” Kei asked.

Touko stared straight at him.

“That you and Mama are trying for a baby.”

Kei froze.

Touko’s expression didn’t change. Not anger. Not sadness. Just… clarity.

“How did you—”

“You talk loudly at night,” she said. “You whisper, but the walls are thin. Mama said she wanted to try again. You said you hoped it would happen.”

She lowered her gaze to the table.

“I’m not angry.”

Kei let out a breath. “Touko… we didn’t mean to hide anything from you. We just—”

“I’m happy for Mama,” she said.

“That’s good,” he murmured, relieved.

Touko raised her eyes.

He shouldn’t have felt relieved.

“I want Mama to smile,” she continued. “She needs something to hold onto. Something to feel proud of.”

Kei nodded slowly. “Touko… it would mean a lot to Yui if you supported this.”

“I do.”

Her voice softened, too gentle to be truly gentle.

“But Mama’s health is weak. You know that, right?”

Kei stiffened. “Touko…”

“She gets dizzy easily. She hides how often she’s in pain.” Touko traced the rim of her glass with one delicate finger. “Pregnancy is dangerous for her.”

Kei looked down. The doctor had mentioned risks. They both brushed it aside because hope felt warmer than fear.

Touko tilted her head.

“If Mama can’t make a baby…”

Kei lifted his gaze. Her eyes were shining.

“…then it’s okay.”

He swallowed. “Touko—”

“I’ll be here for you.”

Kei froze.

The air shifted. The warmth of Yui’s birthday faded into something quieter. Sharper.

Touko leaned forward slightly, fingers curling together in her lap.

“You don’t have to be lonely,” she whispered. “You don’t have to wait for Mama to get better. You can depend on me.”

Kei’s voice came out strained. “Touko… I’m your stepfather.”

“I know,” she murmured. “That’s why I want to stay close.”

He pushed back from the table, but she stood at the same time, stepping toward him.

“If Mama can’t give you a child,” she continued, “it doesn’t matter.”

Kei’s breath caught.

Touko smiled softly—beautiful, unsettling.

“I can take care of you. I can stay by your side. I can be everything you need.”

“That’s—not okay to say,” Kei forced out.

Touko blinked, confused for a moment, before smiling again as if she understood something deeper.

“Kei,” she whispered, “I love Mama. Truly.”

She turned her head toward the couch where Yui slept, chest rising gently.

“But she’s fragile.”

Then she looked back at him.

“I’m not.”

Kei’s skin chilled.

Touko stepped closer, lowering her voice until it brushed against him like a secret.

“If Mama can’t give you a baby…”

He took a step back.

Touko didn’t follow.

She just smiled.

“I’ll do it for her.”

His breath caught. “Touko—”

“Don’t worry.”

Her tone was feather-soft.

“I’ll protect you both.”

Then she added quietly:

“And

 if Mama ever breaks…

I’ll fix it.”

Behind them, Yui slept peacefully.

Unaware her daughter had just drawn a line she could never see.