Welcome Home

POV —> Ren

Yuna had to stay in the hospital for a couple of days for observation, so later that evening, my mother, Yui, Sakura and I drove back home.

In the car, as my sister scrolled through her phone, a bad feeling settled in my stomach. Whatever she was reading or watching clearly upset her… over and over again.

When I asked her what was wrong, she didn’t answer. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, whatever it was.

I understood why, later that night, lying alone in my bed.

Yuna’s stream had turned into a nationwide spectacle in a matter of hours. No matter where you went on the internet, people were talking about it.

And it didn’t take long for me to realize that the narrative had already shifted.

“Too perfect.”

“Too convenient.”

“Too cinematic.”

Leaked photos

A public stream

A confession

A sudden birth

To a lot of people online, it didn’t look like the truth. It looked like a rollout.

Videos popped up, even from bigger creators, confidently explaining how it must have been staged. The photos? Easy. Leaked “accidentally”. The stream? A calculated sob story. And the birth… right at the end, after we finished what we had to say… Perfect timing. The “I love you” I said to her seconds before the stream ended was the cherry on top. Apparently, that just slipped out, and wasn't part of the plan. Make it make sense. Only minutes earlier, she had told them I wasn’t the father… that she’d lied back then, when she said we were together. Of course it looks weird.

The biggest theory going around was that it had all started with a personal conflict. That LunaZero was trying to frame the CEO of her agency, make him look bad, just to escape her contract.

The internet doesn’t reward honesty. It rewards the story that makes most sense. Stories that fit together neatly and make sense without effort.

There’s an irony in that I still can’t fully wrap my head around…

When she lied… when Yuna let people believe we were together long before we actually were, no one questioned it. They wanted that version. It was easy to ship…

But when she finally told the truth? When she stripped everything bare and ugly and real?

That’s when they called it fiction.

I’d thought about responding… about clarifying…

And then I thought about Yuna. About how small she’d looked in that hospital bed. About how her daughter’s fingers had curled around mine… And about how a legal battle like this could stretch months… maybe even a year or two.

And somewhere between all that noise and all that fear, the answer became obvious.

We didn’t need to win the internet.

Our goal was to get the story out there… and now it was. No matter what the majority says, her boss still can’t just brush this topic aside anymore. And most importantly, he won’t force her to stream again after all of this.

What Yuna and I needed now was time to heal.

Time to raise a child without comment sections dissecting her existence, and time to let the truth stand on its own, even if no one wanted to look at it yet.

So Sakura and I made a decision.

Yuna wasn’t allowed anywhere near the internet. No news, no social media. Right now, she needed rest more than answers.

—-------------------------------

POV —> Yuna

3 weeks had passed since the birth. For the past 2 weeks, I’d been sleeping in my own apartment again. During the day, Ren and I drove to the hospital together to visit her, spending hours beside the incubator, watching her breathe, memorizing every tiny movement she made. She was still in the NICU, small but stable, and she was growing stronger with each day.

But today was different. Ren parked his parents’ car infront of our building. I looked down at the bundle in my arms…

3 weeks old, and somehow still impossibly light. Her face was scrunched in sleep, one tiny fist curled against her chest, the other tucked beneath her chin like she was holding onto herself.

I felt it again… that uneasy feeling crept back in. Ren and Sakura had both insisted I stay away from the internet. Part of me wanted to know… But I trusted them. If they thought this distance was necessary, then it probably was.

Ren stayed close as we walked inside, one hand hovering near my elbow, careful not to touch unless I needed it.

The door to my apartment opened, and warm light spilled into the hallway.

“Ren, did you leave the lights on?”

Then I heard it… quiet voices coming from inside my apartment.

I froze for a second… but then the living room came into view…

Sakura stood near the kitchen counter with a small, almost hesitant smile, holding a paper bag that smelled faintly of pastries. Yui stood beside the couch, rocking slightly on her heels… trying, and failing, not to stare… Ren’s parents sat on the couch, hands folded, smiling gently in my direction.

For a second, I almost couldn’t process it… Coming home to this sight…it made me emotional.

“That’s…her.” Yui whispered.

I nodded.

She pressed both hands over her mouth. “Oh my god… she’s really here.”

It wasn’t a party. Just a few people who had quietly become part of my life, standing at a respectful distance, voices soft, movements careful.

We celebrated quietly. Ren’s parents brought flowers, and his mom had prepared a huge home-cooked dinner “just in case” as she always said.

But the star of the night… was the tiny girl sleeping on my chest.

Yui bounced around in quiet excitement, whispering “She’s so small… she’s so smaaaall… oh my god she’s SO small.” Every 30 seconds.

After a while, the room thinned out naturally. Sakura left first, promising to come by another day. Not long after, Ren’s parents said their goodbyes aswell, giving me one last warm smile before heading out.

Yui lingered, of course, until Ren gently steered her toward the door, reminding her that babies, especially premature ones, needed calm more than excitement.

Eventually, it was just us.

The bedside crib stood right next to my bed. He assembled it earlier that afternoon with his sister, who insisted that “as the future world’s best aunt” it was her destiny to help.

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“I… I just want to lie down for a bit.” I murmured.

Ren stepped toward the crib. “Here… I can put her down.”

“N-No.” I whispered. “Just… give me a moment with her.”

He nodded like he understood without needing more words.

I looked at him… really looked.

The exhaustion on his face was clear as day, dark circles under his eyes. For the past 3 weeks, he’d poured everything he had into making the apartment ready. He was shopping for essentials, cleaning, rearranging, turning it into a place that felt safe for a baby.

He stayed awake every night until I fell asleep, before finally lying down on the couch.

“Ren.” I said firmly. “You should rest too.”

“Huh? Me? I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You barely slept last night. Please… lie down with me.”

“W-With you?”

“N-Not like that.” I blurted, my face burning. “I just… I’ll feel safer if you’re close. And you deserve to rest too.”

He swallowed, then nodded shyly.

—----------------

We lay together on the bed, the crib right beside us.

Ren lay stiff at first, like I was asking him to sleep in a landmine field.

I rolled slightly toward him, letting my forehead rest against his shoulder.

“I’m exhausted.” I whispered.

“You should sleep.”

“I will… now that you’re here.”

His breath hitched, and then… slowly, he wrapped an arm around me.

I didn’t even last 2 minutes before sleep pulled me away.

Surprisingly, when I woke, the sky outside was just beginning to lighten. She hadn’t woken us even once. Ren was still beside me, breathing slow and steady. I lay still for a moment, listening to both him and the soft sounds coming from the crib.

Family.

The thought felt strange, but definitely right.

—----------------

While we were having breakfast, Ren suddenly broke the quiet with a question.

“It’s been 3 weeks now… no rush, but have you thought about a name?”

The question caught me off guard.

I looked down at her.

“I haven’t.” I admitted. “Not properly… Everything happened so fast, and with her in the NICU, and me barely functioning…”

“That makes sense.” Ren nodded.

I went quiet for a moment.

My gaze stayed on her as my thoughts drifted to everything the last few years had been.

The pressure... The fear... Nights where it felt like there was no end in sight. How small my world had become without me even noticing… until Ren showed up… And then there she was… Like a light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel…

“Koharu.” I whispered.

She stirred slightly, as if she heard.

Ren looked at me. “Koharu?”

I nodded. “It means… the warmth that comes after winter.”

“Koharu.” he repeated. “I like it.”

I smiled, tears blurring my vision. “So do I.”

…

“Our baby.” I said without thinking.

The words hung between us.

He didn’t correct me.

Instead, he leaned in and rested his forehead against mine.

“Our baby.” he repeated.

—----------------------

Days passed.

One evening, as I held Koharu and gently swayed her in my arms, Ren lingered in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, looking unusually nervous.

“Yuna…?”

“Yes?”

He swallowed, ears already turning red.

“So, um… you’ve been doing really well. Your strength is back, you’re eating and sleeping better, and your doctor said light outings should be okay now…”

I blinked at him. “...Okay?”

“And, uh… I was thinking…” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

It took a second for his words to register.

“A… a date?”

“Yes.” He stepped a little closer, “We’ve…never really been on a proper date before… so I thought… maybe my mom and Yui could babysit, and we could spend the evening together?”

My breath caught. I tightened my arms around the baby, heat rising to my cheeks.

“Yes…I’d love to.”

“Then… it’s a date.” he said with a shy smile. “Actually… my first one ever.”

I smiled back at him. “Mine too.”