The omurice sat before us, golden and steaming. Not the prettiest dish—the edges of the omelet folded unevenly, the ketchup message on top reading "YUM!" in Ai's slightly wobbly handwriting. But it smelled like heaven.
Ruby attacked her portion immediately, making happy noises around each bite. Aqua ate with more precision, cutting perfect triangular sections before lifting them to his mouth. Ai watched them both with quiet pride before turning her attention to her own plate.
I savored my first bite. The egg was perfectly cooked—soft and fluffy—and the rice beneath had just the right amount of seasoning.
"This is delicious," I said, meaning it.
Ai's cheeks colored slightly. "It's nothing special. Just something quick I can make that they both like."
"Momma makes the best omurice," Ruby declared, rice clinging to her chin.
I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. Momma? That was the second time today Ruby had referred to Ai that way. I glanced at Ai, who was studiously focused on her plate.
"So," I said casually, "I've been wondering. Do you live here with Ichigo and Miyako? Or is this like your second home for when you're babysitting?"
A beat of silence fell over the table. Aqua's eyes flickered between his sister and Ai.
"Oh, this is Ichigo's place," Ai said, her voice light. "He and Miyako let me use it when I'm watching the twins overnight. More convenient than dragging them to my apartment across town, especially when they have early morning activities."
She smiled—the same smile she gave interviewers when discussing her "private life." Polished. Professional. Practiced.
Not real.
"It's nice of them," I said, watching her carefully. "Letting you make yourself at home like this."
"Ichigo's been good to me. To all of us at the agency." She took a sip of water. "Plus, the twins are used to this place. Routine is important for children."
Something didn't add up. The apartment felt lived-in, personal in a way that went beyond occasional use. The worn spots on the sofa. The collection of children's books organized by reading level. The family photos that all seemed to feature Ai with the twins, but never Ichigo or Miyako.
"Toshiro-san," Aqua said suddenly, "do you know about black holes?"
I recognized the deliberate subject change but played along. "A little. They're formed when massive stars collapse, right?"
Aqua's serious blue eyes lit up. "Yes. Their gravity is so strong that nothing can escape once it crosses the event horizon—not even light."
"Hence the 'black' part," I nodded.
"Do they eat planets?" Ruby asked, momentarily distracted from her dinner.
"They can," Aqua confirmed. "They can consume anything that gets too close—stars, planets, even other black holes."
Ruby's eyes widened. "Even people?"
"Only astronauts who aren't careful," I said, winking at her. "But NASA trains them very well."
"When I grow up, I'm going to be a space explorer," Ruby announced. "And I'll visit all the planets except the ones with black holes."
"Wise decision," I agreed.
"What did you want to be when you were my age?" Aqua asked me.
The question caught me off guard. In my previous life, I'd dreamed of being an archeologist if the singing didn't work out. In this one, before memories merged, I'd just wanted to survive the orphanage.
"I wanted to be seen," I said honestly. "To make people feel something when they looked at me. I guess that's why I ended up as a performer."
Ai's eyes met mine across the table, something in them softening.
"Do people see you now?" Aqua asked, his question more perceptive than a child his age should be capable of.
"Some do," I answered, looking directly at Ai. "The ones who matter."
A comfortable silence settled over us as we finished eating. I offered to clean up, but Ai shooed me away.
"Guest rules," she insisted. "You sit. I'll handle this."
"Guest rules don't apply after you've helped cook," I countered, gathering plates.
"Ai-chan makes the rules here," Ruby informed me seriously.
There it was again—that slip that didn't align with Ai's explanation. But before I could process it, Ruby was tugging at my hand.
"Can we watch a movie? Please?"
"It's getting late," Ai said, glancing at the clock. "And I'm sure Toshiro has early practice tomorrow."
I did. 7 AM rehearsal with PRISM, working on choreography for our upcoming showcase. Ryota would be insufferable if I showed up tired. Ryuu would lecture me about professionalism. Daisuke would give me that knowing look.
But then Ruby looked up at me with pleading eyes, and Ai's expression held a tentative hope that unraveled my resolve.
"One movie wouldn't hurt," I conceded.
Ruby cheered. Aqua allowed himself a small smile.
"What are we watching?" I asked, helping Ai load the dishwasher.
"The twins' choice," Ai replied. "But fair warning—it'll be either space-related or princess-themed."
"I can handle either," I assured her. "I contain multitudes."
We settled in the living room, where a modest television sat across from a small sofa clearly designed for two people, not four. Ruby solved this problem by plopping directly into my lap.
"You sit here," she instructed, patting the seat next to me. "Ai-chan sits there. Aqua can sit on the floor with pillows."
"Bossy," Aqua muttered, but arranged himself comfortably on a cushion at our feet.
The movie was a Japanese animated film about a young girl who discovers a magical world inside her grandmother's garden. Ruby provided running commentary, explaining characters and plot points as if I might miss them. Aqua occasionally corrected her interpretations, leading to good-natured sibling bickering.
Ten minutes in, Ai leaned against my side, her warmth seeping through my shirt. I held myself rigid at first, unsure if the contact was intentional, until she shifted closer, her head finding a comfortable spot against my shoulder.
"Is this okay?" she whispered.
"More than okay," I murmured back.
Ruby giggled at something on screen, her small body vibrating with laughter against my chest. Aqua leaned back, his head resting against Ai's legs. Her hand moved automatically to stroke his hair.
In my previous life, family had been a theoretical concept, something that happened to other people. In this one, my memories of the orphanage were filled with longing for exactly this: belonging.
Now here I was, holding a child in my lap, another at my feet, the woman I couldn't stop thinking about pressed against my side. It felt like a gift I hadn't earned, a glimpse of something precious I had no right to claim.
Yet I wanted it. Wanted it with an intensity that frightened me.
As the movie progressed, Ruby's commentary slowed, her body growing heavier against mine. Aqua's blinks became longer, his posture relaxing. By the time the credits rolled, Ruby was barely awake, and Aqua had fallen asleep completely, curled on his cushion.
"Bedtime," Ai said softly.
Ruby stirred against me. "Carry me," she mumbled.
"You have perfectly good legs," Ai reminded her gently.
"Please, Toshiro?" Ruby's sleepy eyes blinked up at me. "I'm too tired."
How could I refuse? I scooped her up, her small arms automatically wrapping around my neck. She smelled of strawberry shampoo and the chocolate ice cream we'd had earlier.
"This way," Ai directed, lifting Aqua into her arms.
I followed her down the hallway to a small bedroom decorated in pinks and purples. A dollhouse sat in one corner, a bookshelf filled with picture books in another. Ai pulled back the covers on a bed adorned with stuffed animals, and I gently laid Ruby down.
"Goodnight, Momma," Ruby murmured, her eyes already closing.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Ai whispered, brushing hair from Ruby's forehead.
"Goodnight, Papa," Ruby added, looking at me.
Papa.
Papa.
She called me Papa.
I froze, unsure how to respond, but Ruby was already drifting off, unconcerned with the earthquake she'd just caused with a single word.
Ai's face had gone still, her eyes wide. She recovered first, motioning for me to follow her to Aqua's room across the hall.
His room couldn't have been more different from his sister's—walls painted deep blue, a detailed star map spanning one ceiling, bookshelves filled with texts clearly beyond his years. I laid him gently on his bed, careful not to wake him. He stirred slightly, adjusting to find a comfortable position before settling again.
Ai covered him with a blanket, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Sweet dreams," she whispered.
We slipped out, closing the door softly behind us. In the hallway, Ai paused, her back to me, shoulders tense.
"Ai," I started, not sure what I would say next.
She turned, pressed a finger to her lips, and gestured toward the living room.
Once we were safely out of earshot of the children's rooms, I found myself pacing, unable to contain the energy suddenly coursing through me.
"I should probably go," I said, though it was the last thing I wanted. "It's late, and you're probably waiting for Ichigo and Miyako to get back."
Ai stood by the couch, watching me.
"Unless you want me to wait with you? I don't mind. Although I'm not sure what they'll think, finding me here this late. Not that we did anything wrong. We just had dinner and watched a movie with the kids. Who are great, by the way. Amazing kids." I was rambling, nervous energy propelling words from my mouth.
"About what Ruby said..." I continued, running a hand through my hair. "Kids say things, right? She's probably just confused because we spent the day together. Like playing house. It doesn't mean anything. Though it did feel..." I paused, searching for the right word. "Nice. Warm. I've never been called that before. Papa."
I realized I was still talking and forced myself to stop, taking a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm making this weird. I should just go and let you—"
"Toshiro." Ai's voice cut through my nervous chatter.
I looked at her—really looked. She stood straight, her gradient eyes clear and direct in a way I'd rarely seen. No performance. No mask. Just Ai.
"They're my children."
Three words. Simple. Unadorned. World-changing.
I stared at her, processing. "Your... children?"
=======
See all of you on Sunday!