Nichoume Prefecture, Shinjuku.

Hoshino's POV.

A sharp pain in my hips and back greeted me as I stirred, pulling me uncomfortably into consciousness. Blinking groggily, I took in my surroundings, and my heart sank. This wasn't my flat.

I gasped softly, touching my bare skin under the covers. What on earth...? My mind raced as panic rose. Turning my head to the left, I froze. There, beside me, was a man—a man!—sound asleep, his quiet snores audible over the hum of the room.

My breath caught as I stared. He was... undeniably handsome. Messy hair, a strong jawline, the faintest shadow of stubble. But none of that mattered. I didn't even know him! I fought the urge to cry out, instead hurriedly pulling on my clothes, each movement a frantic blur.

Once dressed, I paused, stealing a glance at the stranger. He looked so peaceful, oblivious to my spiralling thoughts. Why him? I didn't dwell. Snatching up my bag, I slipped out of the room, my heart pounding.

Outside, rain lashed against the pavement, drenching the streets. Typical. I checked my wallet—definitely no money for a taxi. Spotting a vendor selling umbrellas near the hotel lobby, I shuffled over, purchasing one before making a beeline for the underground station just around the corner.

On the train, the events of the night played over in my head—or rather, didn't play. It was all a haze. Had I been drinking? I must have been. But why did I even go to Nichoume? The district was well-known for its lively gay bars, and while curiosity might've led me there, this... wasn't how I'd imagined things going. My hips still ached, a constant reminder of what had happened. Did I really...? With him?

It was my first time. Taken by a stranger in a night I couldn't even remember. A pang of shame settled over me. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Never again, I promised myself.

As I mulled over my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered with a shaky, "Moshi moshi?"

"Hoshino? Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday!" The familiar voice of Maki Ema, my colleague, crackled through the speaker.

"I'm sorry," I replied, keeping my tone even. "I... I turned off my phone."

"Are you all right? You sound... different."

"I'm fine, really," I lied, trying to brush it off. "Why are you calling? Did something happen?"

"There's big news!" Maki's voice brightened. "A company called about collaborating with us. Can you stop by the shop today?"

"Really? That's fantastic!" I replied, genuinely pleased for a moment before reality hit me. "I'll swing by later, but I need to go home and change first."

There was a pause before Maki asked, her tone sharp, "Wait. Did you go to Nichoume last night?"

The question made me stiffen. "I... No! Nothing happened. I was just curious!" The words tumbled out too quickly, my voice a little too high.

"Hoshino, you're so introverted about these things. You can talk to me, you know," Maki pressed gently.

"I said nothing happened!" I snapped, then immediately regretted my tone. "I'll call you back later, all right?"

Without waiting for her reply, I hung up and stuffed my phone into my pocket. My name is Shirayuki Hoshino, I'm twenty-two, and I'm a pastry chef at a small cake shop in Tokyo. My life is usually quiet, uneventful, even dull. But today, everything feels like a storm I can't escape.

.

.

.

I arrived at the cake shop and went straight inside to find Maki.

"Maki, I'm here!" I called out as I entered.

Without wasting time, I put on my white patisserie uniform and hat, tying the strings neatly at the back.

"You look a lot more refreshed, Hoshino," Maki said, still focused on decorating a cake. "I know something must have gone down in Nichoume yesterday."

"I'd rather not think about it," I replied lazily, grabbing ingredients from the cupboard to start baking.

Maki paused her work and looked over at me, curiosity plain on her face.

"So you really slept with someone there?" she asked, her tone both surprised and teasing.

"To be honest, I don't remember anything," I admitted, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "I woke up in a hotel room... naked." My voice faltered as I glanced away, embarrassed.

Maki's mouth fell open slightly, but she quickly shut it, waving her hands in front of her face, still gloved in transparent plastic. "You're mad!" she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Hey, I'm being honest, and now you're calling me mad?" I pouted slightly.

"I just feel bad for whoever your partner was," she said with a sly smile. "Someone that inexperienced must have been a real handful."

I shot her a glare, trying to stay serious. "Anyway, I left straight away. I didn't even get his name, and I doubt we'll see each other again."

Maki sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. "Hoshino, I just don't want you getting into trouble. I've known you for nearly five years, and I've done my best to protect you from men who only approached you because you're cute. And now this? You've gone and had sex without even telling me first!"

I took a deep breath and smiled faintly. Maki was my closest friend, more like a second mum sometimes. She always meant well, even if she had a flair for drama.

Before I could reply, the shop door opened, and the sound of a bell chiming echoed through the room. Quickly removing my gloves, I stepped out to greet the customer.

"Welcome! How can I help you?" I said with a cheerful smile.

The man standing there gave me a strange look. I hesitated, unsure of what to do, then snapped my fingers lightly in front of his face. "Sir, are you all right?"

He blinked and snapped out of his daze. "Could you wrap this cake for me?" he said, his deep voice catching me off guard.

"Hoshino!" Maki shouted in my ear, jolting me back to focus.

"Yes! I'll get it ready right away, sir." I hurried to box the cake he'd pointed out. "Would you like me to write a message on the cake?" I asked, glancing up at him. He met my gaze with sharp, intense eyes.

"No need. Just leave it as it is," he replied, his eyes lingering on me as I worked.

It was a chocolate cake with vanilla layers and a touch of chilli powder—one I'd baked just the day before. Once it was ready, the man moved to the till where Maki handled the transaction.

"That'll be 2,750 yen," Maki said, taking the ten-thousand-yen bill he handed her. She returned the change and receipt, but the man didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stood there, his gaze fixed on the kitchen behind her.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" Maki asked, her voice laced with confusion.

"No, thank you," he said at last, taking the bag with his order and leaving.

Maki shrugged and joined me in the kitchen. "That was a bit odd, don't you think?" she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, busying myself with some bread dough.

"Well, he paid and then just stood there, staring at the kitchen like he'd seen a ghost."

"Maybe he just liked the smell of the bread I was baking," I replied, trying to brush it off.

"A tall, handsome man in a suit coming to a cake shop this early?" Maki pressed. "That's not something you see every day."

"Maybe he's hungry or picking something up for someone special," I said nonchalantly.

"Then why were you staring at him like that earlier?" Maki asked, narrowing her eyes.

I stopped kneading the dough for a moment, rolling my eyes. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated, unconvinced.

"I mean, he had a really hypnotic voice," I admitted, though my tone was casual as I moved to check on some freshly baked bread.

Maki followed me, not letting up. "I'm sorry, I still don't get it. What do you mean by 'hypnotic'?"

I turned and gave her a light flick on the forehead. "Get back to work!" I teased, grinning.

Maki pouted, clearly not satisfied with my response. She eventually returned to her station, muttering to herself. But even as I tried to focus on my tasks, I couldn't shake the strange familiarity of the man's voice. It lingered in my mind, almost like a melody I couldn't forget. Maybe I was still tired from everything that happened last night.

Or maybe... it was something else.

.

.

.

"Are you all right, Hoshino?" Maki called out, her voice tinged with concern, as I disappeared into the toilet for the fifth time that day.

"I'm fine," I replied weakly from behind the door.

"Have you been skipping meals again?" she asked when I finally emerged. Before I could respond, she gently guided me to sit down.

I shook my head quickly. "No, it's not that. For the past few weeks, I've been feeling nauseous and unwell. I can't even sleep properly at night." I took a sip of the water she had prepared, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

"Have you been to the doctor?" she pressed, sitting beside me with her usual no-nonsense tone.

I shook my head again, but before I could explain, a whiff of Maki's perfume made my stomach churn. Clapping a hand over my mouth, I bolted back to the toilet.

"Have you changed your perfume, Maki?" I called out between gulps of fresh air.

"You're saying my perfume's making you sick?" she shouted from outside, clearly unimpressed.

When I returned, dabbing at my mouth with a handkerchief, I tried to look as innocent as possible. Maki, however, wasn't having it.

"That's it. You're going to the doctor," she declared, grabbing my arm and marching me out of the shop.

It was Sunday, luckily, and the shop was closed. Maki didn't just work there—she lived on the second floor. She'd always said it was far more convenient than renting a separate flat, and honestly, I agreed. She'd even tried to convince me to move in with her once, but I'd declined immediately.

What would the neighbours say if an unmarried man and woman lived under the same roof? Besides, Maki already had a fiancé. It would've been impossible to explain my presence to him, not to mention utterly awkward. Instead, I'd found myself a small flat nearby. The rent was cheap, and while it wasn't exactly luxurious, it suited me well enough.

Still, as Maki practically dragged me down the road, I couldn't help but feel grateful for her stubbornness. She always looked out for me, even when I didn't think I needed it.

***

"I'll wait for you outside. Go on in," Maki said, giving me a gentle shove into the room after my number was called.

"Good morning, Shirayuki-san. What brings you in today?" the doctor asked. She looked young, perhaps only a few years older than me.

"For the past few weeks, I've been feeling nauseous in a way I've never experienced before, Doctor," I replied, sitting down nervously.

The doctor nodded, jotting something down in her notebook. "Is it worse in the mornings, or does it happen all the time?" she asked.

"All the time, but it's much worse in the mornings," I sighed, my thoughts drifting back to the endless bouts of vomiting that had left me drained.

The doctor paused, her pen resting against her lip in thought. "All right," she said after a moment, gesturing for me to follow her into another room.

Maki, who had been peering through the window, looked perplexed as I left with the doctor.

"Please lie down and lift your shirt slightly," the doctor instructed, taking out a stethoscope. She placed it on my stomach, her face focused as she listened carefully.

Once she finished, she set the stethoscope aside and reached for another machine. It wasn't until she wheeled out an ultrasound that I realised something was amiss. My eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time that this wasn't a general practitioner's office—it was a gynaecologist's.

"Um, Doctor? Why are we in an obstetrician's room?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled kindly but didn't answer. Instead, she prepared the ultrasound machine, squeezing a cold gel onto my stomach. She moved the probe gently over my abdomen, her gaze fixed on the monitor.

After a few moments, she smiled again and said, "You're pregnant, Shirayuki-san."

I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "P-Pregnant?" I echoed, my voice barely audible.

She nodded. "Yes, about five weeks along. It appears you have a rare genetic condition—one that allowed the development of a uterus and ovaries in your body. It's unusual, but not impossible."

Her words felt like a distant echo as I lay there, paralysed. My mind was spinning, unable to process what I was hearing.

"I... I need to go home," I stammered, sitting up abruptly and pulling my shirt down. My hands trembled as I tried to avoid her gaze.

The doctor nodded gently. "If you have any concerns or unusual symptoms, don't hesitate to come back. I'm here to help you, Shirayuki-san."

I nodded vaguely and stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

"Hoshino? What did the doctor say?" Maki asked, meeting me in the corridor. Her smile faded when she saw my tear-streaked face.

"Nothing. Let's go home," I replied flatly, trying to walk past her, but Maki grabbed my hand.

"Hoshino...?" she asked again, her eyes full of concern.

"Pregnant. That's what they said," I whispered, tears falling freely now. I didn't sob; I didn't even feel anything. Just a hollow, aching emptiness.

Maki gasped, but instead of bombarding me with questions, she pulled me into a firm hug.

"This is the first time I've ever seen you cry," she whispered, stroking my back gently.

"You must think I'm awful," I muttered, my voice cracking. "You know I'm gay. And yet... I can get pregnant."

Maki pulled back slightly and patted my head affectionately. "Hoshino, you're still my best friend. Don't ever forget that."

Her words were simple, but they reached deep into the storm of emotions inside me, calming me ever so slightly. I took a deep, shaky breath, clinging to the quiet reassurance of her presence.

\===============================================

Hoshino's POV.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened a few days ago at the doctor's. All my life, I thought I was normal—nothing out of the ordinary. But being told I had a "genetic disorder" was a slap in the face. A mutant? Pregnant? Bloody hell.

The results from yesterday's tests had been sent to my flat, and I'd read every word. Mum, Dad, you must be so disappointed. Your son is pregnant.

Is it even possible to conceive after just one time? And was the child growing inside me really his? The man from that night? My thoughts spiralled as I tugged at my hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This was the curse of being an introvert: overthinking things that no scientific explanation could ever truly resolve.

"Are you all right, Hoshino?" Maki's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. She stood at the till, looking concerned.

I nodded slowly, brushing it off. "I'm fine."

"The company that wanted to collaborate with us? They've arranged a meeting for today," Maki said, handing me a proposal folder.

I took it, flipping through the pages absent-mindedly. "You go, Maki," I replied, passing it back to her.

With an exasperated sigh, she smacked me lightly on the head with the envelope. "This is your shop, Hoshino. You're the one who should go."

She placed the folder firmly on the counter before disappearing into the kitchen.

She was right, of course. This shop was my dream—a result of years of hard work and saving during school. But Maki had always been the face of the business, handling all the marketing and client interactions while I worked quietly in the background. Meeting new people wasn't my forte, especially not now, with everything on my mind.

The shrill ring of the phone jolted me from my thoughts. I quickly answered, putting on my professional voice.

"Hello, Shirayuki Cake Shop. How can I help you?"

"Before you come to our meeting, could you bring the chocolate vanilla cake with chilli powder that Ogata-san often orders?" The voice on the other end was brisk, barely pausing for breath.

I hesitated, caught off guard. "Sorry, who is this?" I asked, but before I could get an answer, the line went dead.

I stared at the receiver, piecing together the words they'd just said. Opening the envelope on the counter, my eyes fell on the bold letters at the top of the proposal: OGATA TRADING CORP.

A deep breath escaped me as reality set in. There was no getting out of this. I had to go.

Wrapping my signature cake neatly in a box, I changed into something more appropriate and headed for the door.

"Maki! I'm off!" I called out.

She popped her head out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Good luck, Hoshino. If we land this contract, the shop could get a lot busier."

I hesitated at the door. "Are you sure you'll be all right running things on your own? Maybe we should hire a part-timer."

Maki scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Are you doubting me? Just go! You'll be late," she said, laughing as she gave me a playful shove out the door.

She waved happily as I set off, but her cheerful confidence did little to calm the nervous knot in my stomach. This meeting wasn't just about the shop—it was about me stepping out of my comfort zone, confronting my own doubts, and taking charge of the life I'd built.

*****

OGATA TRADING CORP.

The lettering gleamed prominently on the towering building before me. I craned my neck to take it all in, losing count of the floors as I tilted my head further back. With a deep breath, I straightened myself and stepped inside, making my way across the sleek main lobby to the reception desk.

"Good afternoon. How can I help you?" asked the young woman behind the counter, her tone polite and professional.

"I'm here to see..." I faltered, suddenly blanking. Quickly, I fumbled with the envelope in my hand to check the name. "Ogata Yuusuke-san. My name is Shirayuki Hoshino."

The receptionist gave me a long, scrutinising look before picking up the phone beside her. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Did I look that strange? My outfit was neat—black trousers paired with a long brown high-necked coat. My hair was tied back neatly. Surely, I didn't come across as unpresentable, did I?

"Please proceed to the twentieth floor. The President's secretary is expecting you," she said, bowing slightly.

I nodded in return and headed for the lift, pressing the button for the twentieth floor. As the lift ascended, I steadied my nerves, silently hoping everything would go smoothly.

Ting! The lift doors slid open, and I was met with a man standing just outside, waiting.

"Shirayuki-san, please follow me," he said curtly before turning and walking down the corridor.

The hallway was pristine, with no visible doors save for the one we were approaching. It opened automatically, revealing a spacious office. A large desk dominated the centre, framed by a striking floor-to-ceiling glass window that offered an impressive view of the city skyline.

"Please take a seat. Allow me to introduce myself—I'm Azuma Katsuhide, the President's secretary," he said, bowing slightly.

I returned the gesture. "Shirayuki Hoshino," I introduced myself.

"Did you bring the cake I mentioned on the phone?" Azuma asked, his gaze sharp.

Snapped out of my daydream, I fumbled with the package in my hands. As I handed over the neatly wrapped chocolate cake, I noticed the chair behind the desk slowly swivelling around. My breath caught as the occupant turned to face me.

It was him.

The man sitting there was the same customer who had frequented my shop over the past few weeks. Of course, it had to be him—no one else ever bought my chocolate vanilla cake with chilli powder so regularly. I should have realised sooner.

"Ogata Yuusuke-sama, President Director of Ogata Trading Corp," Azuma announced formally.

I quickly bowed again in greeting, still reeling from the shock.

"Shall we proceed with the contract discussion?" Azuma continued, gesturing for me to take a seat on the nearby sofa.

I sat stiffly, still processing the situation. Are you kidding me? I was discussing a business contract with his secretary while Ogata-san—the President Director—sat there quietly eating chocolate cake at his desk? I fought back the urge to roll my eyes.

Focusing on the task at hand, I opened the proposal Maki had prepared. I could feel Ogata-san's gaze on me the entire time, but I resolutely ignored it. Soon, Azuma handed me the signed contract file.

"All done," he said smoothly. "The next steps are outlined in the document. Please take your time to review them."

I nodded, holding the folder tightly in my hands. Maki was going to be thrilled—securing a contract like this was exactly what she'd dreamed of. She'd always wanted to expand the business and open a second shop. Maybe now, that dream could become a reality.

As I stood to leave, I cast one last glance at Ogata-san. A handsome businessman like him, utterly absorbed in a chocolate cake with chilli powder—my chocolate cake. The thought made me smile, even if just for a moment. Despite everything, I was glad I'd come.

...

By the time I had finished signing the contract, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. My stomach churned uncomfortably, and I felt faint.

"S-Sorry, where's the toilet?" I asked hurriedly, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Azuma pointed to a door on his left, and I bolted towards it without waiting for a reply.

Inside, I leaned over the sink, gagging, though nothing came up. I hadn't eaten breakfast, so there was little more than a bitter mucus that left my throat burning. Covering my nose, I winced at my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. My face was pale, my hair slightly dishevelled. Pathetic.

I splashed cold water on my face and patted it dry with a handkerchief from the counter. My thoughts spiralled as I stared at my reflection. How much longer can I keep this up? Maki would start noticing soon—how could she not? And what about when my belly starts to show? What am I going to do then?

I couldn't even remember the face of the man from that night. Not that it mattered. No, Hoshino. You don't need him, I told myself firmly. This was my burden to carry, my responsibility. I wouldn't drag a stranger into it.

Maybe this was my chance to create the family I'd longed for ever since my parents passed away. I pressed my hand gently against my flat stomach, a flicker of resolve forming. I will never let you down, child. You'll have me, and that will be enough.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the bathroom and returned to my seat in front of Azuma. He looked up from the documents he was organising, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you all right, Shirayuki-san?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." My voice was steady now, though my mind was racing. After a brief pause, I added, "Excuse me, Azuma-san, but may I ask you for a favour?"

Azuma's expression shifted slightly, his sharp gaze focused on me. "What kind of favour?" he asked, his tone polite but cautious.

"Could you give this contract to Maki Ema on my behalf?" I said, holding his gaze as I forced the words out.

Azuma's eyebrows raised slightly. "Isn't the cake shop yours?"

I nodded, feeling the weight of the lie I was about to tell. "It is. But... I've decided to pursue further training as a patissier in Paris. Maki Ema is my work partner, and she'll be handling everything while I'm gone. You can contact her directly for anything related to the shop."

Azuma studied me for a moment, his intense stare making my heart race. Was he catching on? Could he tell I was lying? I forced myself to remain calm, keeping my expression neutral.

Finally, he nodded. "Understood. I hope this marks the beginning of a successful partnership with Shirayuki Cake Shop." He stood and extended his hand towards me.

I stood as well, shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you. I wish the same for our collaboration."

Pulling on my long jacket, I nodded in farewell and left the office. The ride down in the lift was quiet, though my thoughts were anything but.

I knew Maki would be furious when she found out. She'd poured her heart into this shop, just as much as I had. But I couldn't risk staying and letting the truth come out. She deserved the success that this contract would bring, and I trusted her to make the shop even better in my absence.

This wasn't an easy choice, but it was the right one. My priorities had shifted. I had a child to think about now—a child who would depend on me.

For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of gratitude for the strange disorder that had made this possible. Despite everything, I'd been given a chance to build a family again, and I wouldn't waste it.

I returned to Izu, my hometown. Leaving behind the cake shop I had worked so hard to build over the past two years wasn't easy, but I knew it was necessary. I'd entrusted everything to Maki, my best friend, who had always been my rock. Before leaving, I sent her a text message explaining that I needed to give birth in peace and that she should take care of the shop in my absence. Predictably, Maki protested immediately, her calls lighting up my phone within minutes.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, I reached out to Matsuyama—Maki's fiancé—asking him to help her with the shop. Matsuyama was reliable, and I knew he'd support Maki during this time. I didn't tell either of them where I was going, only that I'd visit them after five years. It felt cruel, but it was the only way to protect my secret.

The flight to Izu was short, but the entire journey was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. As the plane descended, the breathtaking view of the island came into focus—lush greenery, the sparkling ocean, and the rugged coastline that I'd missed more than I realised. It was a world away from Tokyo's ceaseless rush, and it filled me with a bittersweet nostalgia.

This decision, as difficult as it was, felt like the best one I'd made in years. My savings weren't much—barely enough to get by—but I'd been careful over the past two years. It would cover rent for a modest room in Izu until I could find a job to support myself and the baby.

Once I stepped off the plane, the warm, salty breeze hit me immediately, carrying with it a sense of familiarity. I clutched my bag tightly and took a deep breath. The idea of starting over was daunting, but the quiet simplicity of the island was comforting. Here, I'd build a life for my child—a new family to replace the one I'd lost so many years ago.

As I made my way to the small inn I'd booked in advance, I let the sound of the waves crashing against the shore settle my nerves. I couldn't afford to dwell on the past or worry about the uncertainties of the future. All I could do was take one step at a time and trust that I was making the right choices.

Everything would be all right. It had to be.

********

Five years later.

Hoshino's POV.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

A small voice called out excitedly, and I turned just in time to catch Yuutaka as he ran towards me, his arms outstretched.

Scooping him up, I held him close, stroking his soft hair. "Yuu-chan was a good boy today, hmm?" I asked, smiling.

He nodded enthusiastically, his bright eyes sparkling with pride.

"Shirayuki-san, you're picking him up early today?" came the familiar voice of Asami-san, the nursery director.

"Yes," I replied, adjusting Yuutaka's hat to shield him from the blazing summer sun. "Today is the anniversary of my parents' death. I wanted to take Yuutaka to visit their graves."

Asami-san nodded understandingly before retreating inside.

I carried Yuutaka down the quiet street, the warmth of the summer sun pressing down on us. This summer marked his fifth birthday, the same number of years I'd been in Izu. I couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed.

Giving birth to Yuutaka had been the most painful yet fulfilling experience of my life. It taught me what it truly meant to be a parent, and I'd been overwhelmed with gratitude for my neighbours, who never judged me for being a man who had given birth. Instead, they supported us with kindness and encouragement.

Yuutaka had grown into a healthy, independent little boy, and I was endlessly proud of him. He never cried when I left him at the nursery and greeted me every day with boundless energy. I worked at a small advertising company in Izu, and while it wasn't glamorous, it was enough to support the two of us. My life revolved around Yuutaka, and I couldn't have been happier. I finally had the family I had always dreamed of, and I was determined to protect him from anything or anyone.

Still, I couldn't help but notice that Yuutaka didn't look anything like me. His features were distinct—sharp, yet soft in a way that made him seem older than his years. Sometimes I found myself wondering if he resembled his father, the man whose face I couldn't remember. But I quickly brushed the thought aside. Yuutaka had no father. I was his only parent, and that was all that mattered.

I had promised Maki I would return to Tokyo, but deep down, I knew I wouldn't keep that promise. I hadn't contacted her or Matsuyama in years. The life I had built in Izu with Yuutaka was simple but happy. Recently, I'd seen a news segment about the cake shop on TV. Maki had kept the name, and it had grown into something extraordinary. I wasn't surprised—she'd always been capable of achieving great things.

At the cemetery, I set Yuutaka down gently and pulled out a bouquet of flowers from my bag. Kneeling, I poured fresh water over my parents' graves, the sunlight glinting off the polished stone. Yuutaka folded his small hands together and closed his eyes in prayer, just as I had taught him.

"Grandpa and Grandma, rest in peace, okay? Yuu-chan will take care of Mum," he said, looking up at me with a smile before wrapping his little arms around me.

It was something he said every time we came here, and every time, it filled me with a bittersweet pride. My son was growing up to be such a kind, brave soul.

I kissed the top of his head. "Thank you, Yuu-chan. Let's go."

As I lifted him into my arms, a strange sound echoed behind us—thump.

I froze, scanning the area quickly. The cemetery was quiet, the air heavy and still. For the past few weeks, I'd had the unsettling feeling that someone was watching us. It only happened when we were alone. While I was at work, the sensation disappeared, but now it crept over me again, prickling my skin.

Yuutaka tugged at my shirt, snapping me out of my thoughts. I held him close and walked away from the graves, the unease lingering like a shadow.

Whatever it was, it would have to wait. For now, I had Yuutaka, and that was all I needed.

***

Yuutaka was happily munching on his afternoon snack while I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. I'd made his favourite—chocolate vanilla cake with chilli powder. It was a flavour that always reminded me of someone, though I quickly pushed the thought away. Yuutaka could easily finish a small tray by himself, his appetite seemingly endless, yet somehow he never gained a single ounce of fat.

"Stop snacking, Yuu-chan. Dinner will be ready soon," I said over my shoulder.

Obedient as ever, he wrapped the remaining cake neatly and placed it to his left. "Clever boy," I praised, ruffling his hair.

Grinning, Yuutaka dashed into the kitchen and fetched two bowls and a pair of chopsticks from the cupboard. He carefully set the table where he'd been eating earlier. Watching him, I couldn't help but smile. Stroking his hair again, I playfully pinched his cheeks. He giggled, unbothered by my affection.

I'd made sure to teach Yuutaka how to take care of himself, to respect his elders, and to apologise when he was in the wrong. He always listened and took everything to heart, which filled me with pride. He was my little boy, and I couldn't have been prouder.

With dinner ready, I brought over bowls of rice and plates of his favourite side dishes. As I set them down, I noticed Yuutaka playing with toy cars he'd pulled from his bag. I frowned slightly—when had I bought him toy cars? I didn't recall doing so.

Ding... dong...

The doorbell rang, breaking my train of thought. Glancing at Yuutaka, I rose to see who it was. Peeking through the peephole, I was startled.

"Chief Takihara?" I opened the door immediately.

"Good evening, Hoshino. May I come in?" he asked, his voice as calm and steady as always.

"Of course, please." I stepped aside, inviting him into the flat and leading him to the dining room.

"Yuutaka, say hello," I prompted. Yuutaka jumped up, greeting Chief Takihara with a bright smile before wrapping his small arms around him in a hug.

Takihara Mamoru was my boss at the advertising company where I worked. He'd been the first person to invite me to join his team despite my lack of experience, and he'd patiently helped me learn the ropes. Over time, he'd become close to both me and Yuutaka. Yuutaka adored him, especially because Takihara-san always took time to play with him or bring small treats.

I suspected Takihara-san might harbour feelings for me, but I chose to ignore it. My focus was solely on Yuutaka—he was all I needed.

"Sorry for interrupting your meal," Takihara-san said, sitting across from me with Yuutaka still clinging to him.

"Would you like to join us, Takihara-san?" I offered politely.

"If Yuutaka doesn't mind," he replied, turning to my son, who eagerly nodded.

"Uncle Takihara, why don't you just eat here every day?" Yuutaka asked innocently, causing Takihara-san to chuckle.

"Yuu-chan..." I began, trying to steer the conversation.

"Your mum would get angry if Uncle came here every day," Takihara-san teased, tapping Yuutaka's nose playfully. He glanced at me, and I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"No, Uncle! Right, Mum?" Yuutaka turned to me, his eyes wide with hope.

"Uncle Takihara is busy with work, Yuu-chan. Now, eat your rice," I said gently, handing him his bowl.

Yuutaka pouted briefly but obeyed, digging into his food with gusto.

"You rejected me quite decisively there, Hoshino," Takihara-san murmured, his tone light but carrying a hint of something deeper.

Caught off guard, I hesitated before replying quietly, "I have no intention of getting close to anyone, Chief. Yuutaka is enough for me."

Takihara-san nodded slightly, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, silence hung in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable. As I watched Yuutaka happily eat, I felt reassured in my decision. My life was complete as it was, and nothing could change that.

"Remember, Yuu-chan, don't be a naughty boy. Be good for Ms Asami, hm?" I said softly, kneeling to kiss Yuutaka's forehead and hugging him tightly.

Yuutaka hugged me back, his little arms wrapping around my neck as he nodded earnestly.

"I'll pick him up at lunchtime," I assured Ms Asami, giving her a polite nod before taking Yuutaka inside.

I waved as he disappeared through the nursery door, his small figure vanishing into the bright hallway.

Once he was out of sight, I hurried off towards my office, which wasn't far from the nursery. My thoughts drifted back to last night and Chief Takihara. Guilt gnawed at me. He'd been so understanding, but I knew I'd hurt him. I hadn't meant to be harsh, but I couldn't let things progress between us.

No matter how kind or patient Takihara-san was, I couldn't forget that night at the hotel five years ago—the night with the mysterious man. Even though his face was a blur, that night was pivotal for me. It had brought Yuutaka into my life, and for that, I would always be grateful. But it was also a reminder of how vulnerable I'd been and how much I had to lose.

It wasn't that I wanted to find Yuutaka's father. I didn't. But that experience had made me wary, and I couldn't bear the thought of opening myself up like that again.

Of course, Takihara-san was different. He made me happy, but my feelings for him didn't go beyond admiration. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on, so I'd rather reject him outright. Yuutaka didn't need a father; he had me. I'd raised him alone, and no one could take that role from me.

"Hoshino, are you all right?"

The sound of Takihara-san's voice startled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to find him standing by my desk, concern etched on his face.

"I'm sorry, Chief," I stammered, fumbling with the files in front of me. "I'll get to work right away."

He gave me a small, understanding smile, but his gaze lingered, as if he could see through my façade. I quickly turned my attention to the paperwork, focusing on the task at hand.

As I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling that things between us wouldn't be resolved so easily.

***

***

Author's POV.

Lunchtime arrived, and Hoshino wasted no time rushing to the daycare centre to pick up Yuutaka and share a meal together.

"Excuse me, I'm here to pick up Yuutaka!" Hoshino called out as he entered the nursery, his voice tinged with excitement.

Usually, Yuutaka would come running the moment Hoshino walked in, throwing his little arms around him. But today, there was no sign of him. Hoshino's gaze swept the room, searching every corner. A cold chill ran down his spine.

"Shirayuki-san? You're here," one of the nursery school teachers greeted, walking towards him.

Hoshino spun around, his heart pounding. "Where is my son? Where's Yuutaka?" he demanded, his voice edged with panic. Grabbing the young woman's shoulders, he pressed again, louder this time, "I told you I'd pick him up for lunch! Where is Yuutaka?"

The teacher flinched at the intensity of his voice, her face pale. "Em... just now, someone came to collect Yuutaka. They said they were your relative," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously.

Hoshino's shoulders slumped, his grip loosening on the woman. His stomach twisted as dread coursed through him. "Who?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Who took my child?"

The teacher quickly moved to the reception desk, flipping through the sign-out log. Her finger stopped on a name, and she looked up hesitantly.

"Ogata Yuusuke-san."