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silent-stories · 5 days ago

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𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst, crying, anxiety

Series masterlist

Noah’s living room felt warm, the golden light of late afternoon spilling in through the window, creating a calm atmosphere. You were sitting on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your legs. Luna, wearing her favorite bunny sweater, was sitting cross-legged beside you, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Noah was leaning back on the couch, clearly trying to act annoyed but already failing.

Luna had been waiting for this. His hair had finally gotten long enough for you two to try braiding it, and you was more than eager to help.

"Okay, Noah, hold still," you said, your voice light and teasing as you ran your fingers through his locks.

Noah groaned dramatically, half-sitting up with a roll of his eyes. "Why do I always let you do stuff like that to me?"

You smiled at his grumbling. “Because you love it,” you teased, your fingers working through his hair with practiced ease, slowly pulling it into sections. His hair were soft, and you loved the feel of them between your fingers.

Luna, who was sitting beside you, held up the first hair tie, her tiny face serious as she inspected it. “Here, this one first!” she declared, raising her little hands as she held the bright purple tie out to you.

"Thanks, Luna," you said with a smile, taking the tie and gently securing the first section of his hair. “We’re doing a great job.”

“Yes!” she chirped happily.

Noah, pretending to scowl, leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “I don’t know why I let you both do this to me. I'm the only one suffering hare."

You leaned over and kissed the side of his head. “Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. You’re gonna look great.”

“Mh. Sure” he muttered, but the soft smile on his lips betrayed him.

Luna passed you another hair tie, this time a bright blue one, eyes wide as she eagerly waited for the next step. She was in full-on “helper mode,” even though she didn't quite understand the mechanics of braiding yet. It was adorable. You were doing most of the work, but she was right there beside you, picking out the ties, handing them over with excitement.

"We don’t have the pink one!" She suddenly declared.

You turned to Noah, feigning concern. “Oh no, we definitely need the pink one, right?”

Noah gave you a sidelong glance. “Sure, we definitely need it,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but he couldn’t hide the little glint in his eyes.

You smiled and watched as Luna rushed off to her bedroom to find the missing pink hair tie. Turning back to Noah, you continued working on his hair, gently weaving the strands together. As you did, you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked like this—relaxed, with his hair half-braided, the strands falling in soft locks around his face.

"You look cute like this," you said quietly, your fingers brushing through his hair again.

He shifted slightly, his lips curving up just a little as he turned his head toward you. “Mh. You think so?” he asked, his voice quiet but with that familiar playfulness beneath it.

You nodded, your fingers still working through the strands. “Yeah, really cute.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering for a second. His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, the teasing smile replaced by something warmer.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his fingers finding your hand and giving it a soft squeeze. Then, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Gentle and slow.

You pulled back slightly, smiling at him, as Luna appeared in the doorway, holding up the missing pink hair tie triumphantly. “Found it!” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she ran back over and handed it to you.

“Good job,” you said, taking the tie from her and getting back to work on the next braid.

Noah adjusted himself on the couch, his hand resting on your thigh as you continued braiding his hair. His touch was slow, almost absentminded, but you could feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric of your jeans. With his other hand, he reached down and pulled Luna up beside him, his fingers gently rubbing her little back as she settled against his side.

"You’re doing great," you said to Luna, giving her a reassuring smile as you worked.

Luna nestled into Noah, her head resting on his arm. "I’m the best at this,” she whispered almost to herself, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Noah laughed softly, his hand still gently rubbing her back. He glanced at you, his gaze soft and affectionate, before leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You leaned back and admired your work, the little braids now neatly secured in place. "Yeah. Definitely cute," you said.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

The next day, Noah stepped into the the band's living room, Luna bouncing ahead of him as she ran toward the group. The guys were lounging around, but as soon as they saw Luna, they lit up.

“Whoa, look how tall you’re getting!” Jolly exclaimed, crouching down to Luna’s level. “You’re almost as tall as me now!”

Luna giggled, standing on tiptoe and puffing out her chest. “I’m this tall!” she said proudly, arms stretched high above her head.

Noah leaned casually against the doorframe, smiling at the interaction. “Yeah, except she’s the shortest in her class at daycare,” he teased. “She didn’t get that from me.”

Folio, lounging on the couch with a sly grin, chimed in, “She got it from me then. Being tall is not the most important thing, you know?”

Noah rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Dude, we’re not even related,” he said, shaking his head. "You remember that, right?"

Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah, sure."

Matt, who had been quietly watching the exchange, leaned forward. “So, Luna,” he said, “what are we gonna do today?”

Luna’s eyes immediately lit up. “We are drawing!” she exclaimed, poiting to some sharpies and pens she left on a little table in the corner of the room the last time he was there. “I draw big flowers and rainbows, and sometimes cats. And daddy. And Y/N. And you uncles.”

Nicholas leaned in with a grin. “You draw cats? I really wanna see one."

Luna nodded seriously. “I can draw you one! But only if you color it with me.”

“Deal!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m an expert at coloring!”

Folio raised an eyebrow. “Hey, does that mean you’re gonna be a famous artist one day?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled as she thought about it. “Maybe! I’ll make big art and sell it for a lot of money. Then I’ll buy ice cream!”

The group laughed.

“And you, Uncle Folio?” Luna asked, her tone serious but playful. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

“Well, I’m pretty good at playing the drums. And I like fishing."

Luna looked at him with a bit of disgust painted on her face. "I don't like fish."

"I'm better at making music, don't worry."

Noah, who had been watching the interaction with a grin, suddenly caught himself thinking about Jason. He almost wanted to talk about the situation with the guys again but he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Maybe next time.

Luna turned to Noah and gave him a big smile. "Daddy, are you going to draw with me too?”

Noah chuckled. "I think I’m better at making music than drawing too.”

Luna frowned playfully. “I think you can do both.”

Noah smiled softly, already talking a sharpie in his hand. “You’re right. I can do both.”

You talked with Jason for the second time three days later.

The Breakfast Nook was rather quiet, that morning. You were behind the counter, chatting with Noah, who was sitting on the bar stool at the counter, drinking his usual cup of tea.

The bell above the door chimed softly as it opened, and when you glanced up, your heart did a little stutter when your eyes landed on Jason.

He was standing in the doorway, framed by the light that poured in from the street. He was wearing a light brown jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos on his forearms. His blue eyes scanned the room with an almost unsettling intensity, like he was looking for something specific.

Noah noticed him at the same time you did, and there was a sudden shift in his posture, a subtle but undeniable tension in his shoulders. You could see the way his eyes narrowed as he took in Jason’s appearance and the way he moved into the coffee shop.

You turned back to the espresso machine, trying to stay composed, but you could feel the weight of Noah’s stare, the quiet energy between you both, shifting.

"Uh-oh," Grace’s voice cut through the quiet of the shop. Her tone was sharp and knowing as she peered over from behind the register, her eyes already locked onto Jason. “This is gonna be fun."

You shot her a glare, but she was already smirking, knowing that something was about to happen.

Jason moved toward the counter, his gaze fixed on you. As he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but feel the heat rise in your chest. You hadn’t seen him for three days, and now, you couldn’t deny the unease that curled up inside you as he stood there, so close.

“Hi,” Jason said simply, his voice smooth, low. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes held a sort of curiosity, as though he was waiting for something, perhaps for you to speak first.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice steady. You waited for him to order, but instead, he just stood there, silent, looking at you.

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Noah, who was staring at Jason now, his fingers curling around his teacup. The air felt thick between the three of you, and it was only a matter of time before Noah broke the silence.

“Hi,” Noah’s voice was surprisingly firm as he stood up, his posture protective, his gaze not leaving Jason’s. “I’m Noah. Her boyfriend.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. You didn't expect that.

Jason’s gaze flickered between you and Noah, a slight raise of his eyebrows betraying his surprise, but he didn’t react immediately. Grace, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused expression, snorted quietly to herself behind the counter, stifling a laugh.

Jason finally talked. “Oh, uh, hi, man. I’m Jason. Yeah, I’ve heard of you,” he said, his voice polite, but there was something beneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. His gaze lingered on Noah for a moment before Jason extended his hand, waiting for Noah to shake it.

Noah didn’t move, his hands still firmly wrapped around his teacup, his expression unchanging. Jason’s hand remained outstretched, but Noah simply stayed there, eyes locked on Jason.

“Good,” Noah said finally, his voice low, almost bored. He didn’t offer his hand in return.

You felt like the tension in the air was thick now, almost palpable, as if the room had stopped breathing. Jason just nodded once, like he’d accepted the silent challenge. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to you, lowering his hand.

“I’ll just have a cappuccino. To take away,” Jason said, his tone casual as if nothing had just happened.

You nodded quickly, your fingers already moving to prepare his order. He was still watching you, and for some reason, it felt like he was studying you, trying to read something in your face.

He paid for his coffee, gave a nod of acknowledgment to Noah—who didn’t respond—and then turned to leave. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air felt charged as he walked out of the door, the bell chiming softly as he left.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Noah’s gaze stayed fixed on the door, a frown tugging at his lips. “I don’t like him,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tight. “I really don’t like him. He was looking at you the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the feeling of unease Jason had left behind. “Well, I work here, Noah. It’s kind of my job to be looked at.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, exhaling a sharp breath as if he were trying to hold back something.

Grace, who had been watching the whole thing with an almost painful amusement, decided it was time to throw in her two cents. “I work here too, sweetheart,” she said. “But he was looking at you.”

You shot her a look that could kill, but Grace didn’t seem to care. She just smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos she’d just witnessed.

“Are you seriously gonna act like that wasn’t weird?” Noah said, his eyes not leaving the door, his fingers drumming restlessly against his mug. “He was practically undressing you with his eyes.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice sharp, trying to deflect the growing tension. “You’re being ridiculous. He’s just a customer like anyone else now.”

Noah shook his head, his brows furrowing in frustration. “Yeah, of course."

Grace chuckled and you shot her a pointed look, which she ignored again, and tried to focus on the customers coming in.

“Well, I'm going to the studio,” Noah muttered, his hand going to his jacket as if he were about to get ready to leave, but you stopped him with a quick touch to his arm.

“Wait,” you said softly, though you could still feel that knot in your stomach. “Are you... are you mad at me?"

Noah hesitated, but then he sighed, rubbing his temple. “No. No, I'm not. I just don’t like him,” he muttered again.

“I know,” you replied quietly, glancing back to the door where Jason had just walked out. “But it's okay. We're okay. Don't worry."

"Mh."

"Come here."

You leaned over the counter to kiss him before he left and when you felt his little smile against your lips, you immediately felt better.

"See you tonight?"

"See you tonight."

The soft glow of the nightlight flickered in the corner of the room, casting a warm, comforting light across the space. Noah was standing by the side of Luna’s bed, his hand gently brushing through her hair as she settled under the covers.

“Cozy, huh?” Noah said softly, pulling the blanket up over her tiny form.

“Mmhmm,” Luna hummed, snuggling into the pillow, her eyelids drooping. She yawned, then blinked up at her dad, her voice small and sleepy. “Today, Emma was talking about her mom.”

Emma was Luna’s friend from daycare, a year older than her, but that was not the important part of the conversation.. He turned slightly, making sure to keep his voice calm, even though he could already feel the weight of what was about to come.

“Was she?” Noah asked, his voice soft, carefully measured. His stomach twisted.

Luna nodded slowly, her little face tired but curious. “Yeah. She asked me how my mom is like.”

Noah was sure his heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard, trying to find a way to keep the conversation light. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And what did you tell her?” he asked, though he already knew what the answer was going to be.

Luna shifted in the bed, tucking her tiny hands under her chin, her brows furrowing slightly. “I said... I don’t have one.” She paused, then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, asked, “But why don’t I have one, daddy?”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, Noah’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes stung with something he didn’t want to face. The question was so innocent, but it was also a reminder of what he couldn't keep.

His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed a lock of hair from Luna’s face, trying to steady himself.

Luna’s big eyes were wide now, searching his face, waiting for an answer. Noah’s heart ached at the trust in her expression, the way she needed him to make sense of something that was far too complicated for a little girl to understand.

He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to stay steady even though it trembled slightly.

“Look, princess...” he started, his voice a little strained. He paused, taking another breath before continuing, trying to put the words together in a way that would make sense, in a way that wouldn’t hurt her.

“We are a very special family. Your mommy, when you were very, very little, decided not to be with us anymore.” His chest tightened with the words, but he kept going, pushing through the lump in his throat.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I love you so much, Lu. You’re my world. And I’ll always be here for you, okay? No matter what.”

Luna blinked up at him, her sleepy little face taking in his words, though the understanding wasn’t fully there. She was too young to really grasp the weight of what he was saying, but Noah could see in her eyes that she trusted him. That was enough.

“Okay,” Luna said softly, her voice already drifting off, the sleep overtaking her once more. “Yes, daddy.”

Noah smiled faintly, relief flooding through him, even if the pain of the conversation still lingered in his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly but not too much for Luna to notice.

"Love you too." Luna’s eyes fluttered shut, her breathing steady as she finally sank into sleep, her small form finally at rest. Noah stayed for a moment longer, just watching her peaceful expression.

Then, with one last glance, Noah stepped back from the bed, pulling the door open just enough to slip out.

He gently closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch echoing in the stillness of the house.

For a moment, he just stood there, in the dark hallway.

It was when he heard your voice that he realized he was crying.

You were still on the couch when Noah when to put Luna to bed, telling you he would be right back.

You heard him closing the door of his daughter's beroom behind him after a couple of minutes, the soft click echoing in the quiet hallway.

Then only silence.

You waited for a moment, thinking that maybe he stopped in the bathroom but you didn't hear any footsteps, so you stood up and walked towards the hallways, flipping the light switch on to figure out what was happening.

You saw him as he took a couple of slow, heavy steps away from Luna's room, his head slightly down, his posture tense. He wasn’t conpletely facing you yet, but you could tell something was wrong.

You walked toward him instinctively, your heart aching just from the way he was standing even before you realized that a single tear was slowly crossing his cheek.

When you reached him, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “Noah. Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond immediately. But then, as if the words you spoke somehow unlocked something inside him, his breath hitched. A shaky exhale left his lips, and suddenly his body wracked with sobs.

Your heart broke. You had never seen Noah cry before—let alone like this. Never had you seen him so vulnerable, so completely shattered. The sound of his sobbing felt like it was ripping through the stillness of the house, and it pierced you deep in your chest. Without thinking, you moved closer, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to hold him together the best you could.

“Baby… what happened?” you asked, your voice trembling with concern.

Noah just shook his head, the sobs coming harder now. He couldn’t speak. The weight of whatever was tormenting him was too much to bear, and you could feel the rawness of it in every tremor that ran through his body.

You held him tighter, trying to soothe him, but his shoulder kept shaking under your hands, and you knew there was nothing you could say or do to stop the storm inside him. You pressed your cheek to the side of his head, whispering over and over again, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s okay.”

You felt the tears against your neck, and your own eyes began to sting as you realized just how much he was suffering. You gently cupped his face, wiping away some of the tears, but his pain wasn’t something you could erase.

All you could do was hold him, let him cry, and be there.

After a while, when his sobs had calmed just a bit, you reached down and took his hand in yours, guiding him to the bed. He followed you wordlessly, his movements slow and unsteady, as if he were in a daze. Once you sat him down, he immediately let himself fall onto the bed, his head resting against your stomach.

You settled under him, pulling the blanket over you both, and began to run your fingers gently along his back and shoulders, trying to calm the trembling in his body. He hid his face in your shirt, his breath still shaky as he tried to steady himself.

His arms wrapped loosely around you, but it was as if he were clinging to you for dear life.

“I’m here, baby,” you whispered softly, gently scratching the back of his head, “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

The minutes stretched on, and you felt his breathing begin to steady.

You didn’t rush him. You didn’t push him to talk. You just kept whispering comforting words, running your fingers over his skin and through his hair. You could feel the weight of his fears in every soft exhale, and it only made you want to hold him even tighter.

Eventually, he spoke. “Luna asked why she doesn’t have a mom.” His words trembled as he said them, and you could hear the guilt in his voice. “And… it just... it stirred something in me. I’m always so fucking scared. I’m scared I’m not enough for her. I’m scared of messing up, of not being a good enough dad. I let her mom leave... I should’ve done something. For her. I should’ve—”

You shook your head, your fingers brushing over his hair, softly. “No, baby. You are enough. You’re an amazing dad, Noah. Luna loves you so much. You did everything you could. Nothing that happened is your fault."

Noah’s breath hitched again, and he buried his face further into your stomach, his voice muffled but still desperate. “And I’m scared I’m not enough for you,” he said, his words barely audible.

“I know you love me, I know you wouldn’t leave me, but I can’t help it. I’m scared, baby. Every day. Every time I wake up and you’re not next to me, I'm always so fucking scared and I feel it in my chest and I don’t even know how to explain it… and now, with Jason back, I don’t know. I just feel like… like I’m not enough for anyone. Like I'm about to lose you.”

His words almost physically hurt you.

You could hear the rawness in his voice—the depth of his insecurity, the weight of everything he was carrying. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, your hand moving gently along his back.

“Listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle, “You are enough, Noah. I've already said it and I'll keep repeating it. You’re more than enough. You’re an incredible dad, an incredible boyfriend. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. And I love you so much.”

Noah took a deep breath, the shaking in his body starting to subside. You continued to stroke his back, between his shoulder blades, your hand moving in slow, soothing circles, trying to ease the tension still gripping him.

His breathing began to steady, and though he didn’t say anything more, you could feel him start to relax under your touch. You could feel the fight slowly leaving him, the fear and the guilt starting to soften.

His hand moved up to rest against your chest, fingers gripping your shirt as if he were afraid to let go. You let him do it.

And as the night went on, you just held him, whispering reassurances, your fingers always gently caressing his back.

Your t-shirt was damp with his tears, but you didn’t care.

You weren’t going anywhere. You wouldn’t let him go through this alone.

Eventually, Noah’s breath grew even, his body still against yours, the last of his tears falling on your shirt. You kept running your fingers over his back for a little longer, ensuring that he was calm, letting the gentle rise and fall of your chest be the rhythm he could settle into. When you were sure that he had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, you allowed yourself to relax as well.

You stayed there, the sound of his steady breathing the only thing filling the quiet room.

You watched him sleep for a few moments.

And only then, you let a few tears fall from your eyes, that, landing on your shirt, mixed with Noah's.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicolelynn @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens x reader #to build a family #tbaf #dad!noah sebastian #dad noah sebastian x reader

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veronicaphoenix · 1 month ago

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the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 1

word count: 17k | reading time: 1h aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the previous events; established relationship; noah & reader are married; fluff; sexual content including p in v (unprotected), creampies, masturbation (not on page), breeding kink, mentioned shibari practices; thoughts/feelings related to fertility issues; pregnancy; childbirth; dad!noah; angst; cliffhanger. — I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch of things because this is super long and there's a lot going on. I'll keep updating it, but please do let me know if you notice I forgot sth.

This entire thingy is dedicated to @somebodyels3. Needless to say, this epilogue is 17k and not 3k because of her endless ideas and permanent brainrot. I'm forever grateful for your constant messaging and obssessive behavior towards samurai!noah. This fic is exactly what happens when readers reach out to writers 💕🥹

Thank you to all of you for reading and giving my writing a chance. I'm so happy how this turned out.

Author's note: writing this entire thing was a journey on its own. It's super long so I've divided it into "pages" (11), to make it easier to follow in case you need to take breaks or can't read it all at once :) Also, I've revised it a couple of times but my brain is mush now. Oh, and I have 0 experience with pregnancy and delivering a baby so please bear with me, I did my best 🫣

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — EPILOGUE PART 1

— page one

2 years later

I knew I was ready when I saw Noah coming down the steps from the training grounds, carrying a little girl in his arms.

She couldn’t have been more than three or four years old.

While it wasn’t unusual for parents at the sanctuary to introduce their children to defense and archery at a young age, this little girl seemed far too small. I didn’t recognize her, but she looked completely at ease in Noah’s arms as he made funny faces at her.

A light breeze blew through that spring day, and the sun graced us with a gentle warmth. The girl had her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, but Noah, whose hair had grown to his shoulders since his last haircut the previous summer, hadn’t bothered to tie his own back. When a gust of wind rustled the trees, it caught his hair too. His strands swept across the little girl’s face, and she scrunched up her nose, leaning back in his arms and closing her eyes, her hands flying up to shield her face.

“Sorry,” Noah said, stiffling a laugh.

“It tickles!” she giggled.

“I lost my hair tie,” Noah explained.

Moving her hands away from her face, she sweetly offered,

“I can lend you one.”

“That would be very kind of you,” he said, tapping her nose playfully.

Her response was a bright smile, followed by her resting her head on his shoulder, settling in comfortably.

Noah noticed me, then.

“Oh, hello, love.”

I was still in my training suit and gloves, having just finished an archery session. I had stayed a few minutes longer to chat with Rika before heading home.

“Hi,” I replied automatically, my mind elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he quickly scanned me to make sure I wasn’t hurt.

The girl glanced at me shyly, clearly unsure who I was.

Noah called my name, snapping me back to reality.

“Hm?”

“Is something wrong? Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Oh,” I stammered, “yeah, must be from training. I’m fine.” I smiled, but Noah didn’t seem convinced, studying me with a raised eyebrow—until a soft voice interrupted.

“She’s pretty.”

Noah and I both looked down at the little girl in his arms, who was comfortably settled against him, with one of his arms holding her easily—though that was no surprise, given how small she was and that he stood at 6��3”.

“She is,” Noah agreed, smiling down at her and then at me. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

If I was already blushing before, I was blushing more now. I didn’t know what was happening to me. Embarrassed in front of a girl? Or was it because seeing her in my husband’s arms awakened something in me?

Obviously, it was the latter, and even if I didn’t say anything explicitly, it didn’t go unnoticed by Noah, of course.

“This is Lila. Her parents want to know if she’d like to learn to train, but she’s still very little, so they’ve let her watch one of the trainings. She’s tired and hungry now, so I’m taking her home. Thomas has been left in charge of the group until I get back.”

When he touched my cheek (for his own amusement because my reaction was obviously amusing him), he watched me with an intensity that made me clench my thighs. Noah leaned over and left me a kiss on my wrist after assuring me that we would meet in the common dining room at lunchtime.

— page two

I couldn’t stop thinking about it since that moment. The realization lingered in my mind, and throughout the day, it haunted me like a secret I was too embarrassed to admit—even to myself.

I wanted to be a mother. I wanted Noah and I to become parents, to bring a life into this world that was a part of both of us. I imagined a little one, a perfect blend of Noah and me, running through the gardens, learning to wield a bow or defend him or herself with a sword, just like their mother and father.

At lunch, a swarm of butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach, their wings beating in rhythm with the thought of Noah getting me pregnant. My hands trembled slightly as I held my chopsticks, moving them aimlessly across my plate.

“You’re very quiet today,” Noah observed, his voice soft yet curious.

I glanced up at him, caught off guard. His eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement, met mine. The faintest smile played at the corner of his lips, as if he knew I was hiding something.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” he teased gently.

“Nothing special,” I replied quickly, lowering my gaze to my plate.

“Nothing special?” he repeated, not convinced by my response.

“No, nothing,” I insisted, shaking my head, hoping to divert the conversation. But Noah wasn’t so easily deterred.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your reaction when you saw Lila in my arms, would it?” he asked, his voice laced with a knowing tone.

I felt my cheeks flush. “What? No, of course not.”

“Are you sure you’re not having any thoughts about… us?” He leaned across the table, lowering his voice to a whisper, “About me… emptying myself inside of you?”

“Noah!” I hissed, glancing around quickly to ensure no one could hear. My face grew even warmer, and I looked away, mortified.

Noah’s expression softened the moment he noticed my hesitation, his usual playful smile giving way to something more thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes searching mine, the stillness between us broken only by the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind filtering through the open gates and windows.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, leaning forward over the low table that separated us in the dining room. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, carried in by the breeze that swept through the open doors, revealing the stunning view of the distant mountains. The sacred sanctuary where we had made our home over the past two years was nestled deep within the heart of the Japanese wilderness. These mountains had become our refuge, our place of peace after years of turmoil and uncertainty.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of my own silence. My mind raced.

“Maybe,” I whispered finally, staring down at the uneaten rice in my bowl.

“Maybe?” he echoed, lifting a brow.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, glancing out at the garden where the soft glow of the sun bathed the wildflowers in golden light. The deer that roamed freely here, so at ease with us, grazed quietly in the distance. “I saw you with Lila earlier… and something shifted.”

Noah studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Okay…” His voice trailed off, his gaze still lingering on my face as if he were piecing together my unspoken thoughts. “Should we talk about it?”

“Can we finish eating first?” I asked softly. “And then take a walk?”

He agreed with a small nod.

After eating, we wandered through the gardens that stretched out beneath the towering peaks. The trees swayed gently, their branches heavy with late autumn leaves, casting long shadows in the fading light. This sanctuary was the life we had dreamed of since childhood, free from the constant pressure of being a born the daughter of a Shogun and a Samurai bound by honor and duty.

Yet, as we walked, my thoughts were anything but peaceful. The gardens, the scent of pine and mountain air, even the distant sound of water trickling from the springs—they all blurred into the background. My hand fidgeted at my sides. I couldn’t bring myself to hold Noah’s hand. His silence only added to the tension, until finally, after several minutes, he stopped.

Noah took my hand, forcing me to halt beside him.

“You can’t stop thinking about it,” he acknowledged quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. He didn’t need to say more; we both knew what he meant. We had been dancing around this conversation for months now, maybe even years, but it had never gone beyond the idea that it would happen… one day.

I looked up at him, my heart in my throat. We had survived so much together, ever since we were children. But this? This next step had me edgy.

Noah stepped closer, his broad shoulders blocking out the last rays of the sun as it dipped behind the mountains. His presence was strong, reassuring, as it had always been.

“You’re right: I can’t,” I admitted. “It’s been in my head every since this morning.

“Then don’t treat it like it’s nothing,” he urged. The weight of his words hit me hard, making my breath hitch.

I opened my mouth to speak, but for a moment, nothing came out. Then, I said,

“I want it, Noah,” I confessed, my voice trembling as I looked up into his eyes. “I want us to have a family. I want a baby. But I’m scared.”

He cupped my cheek with his roughened hand, the warmth of his touch grounding me. “Scared of what? Carrying our child? Of the journey? Of the future?”

“All of it,” I whispered. “But mostly… I’m scared I won’t know how to be a mother.”

I dropped my gaze, my fingers twisting anxiously in the fabric of my sleeve.

“I grew up in a palace, surrounded by rules, discipline, and duty. My mother… she was so distant, always the perfect wife to my father, the Shogun. But never my mother,” a loud sigh escaped my lips. “And my father… well, you know what he was like. The Shogun never had time for his daughter’s needs, only for his ruler’s duties. I was never shown love, not the kind I imagine a mother or a father should give.”

Noah’s hand paused for a second as he absorbed my words. His thumb traced a tender line along my skin, a soft contrast to the roughness of his palm.

“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “It wasn’t easy for you, living like that. So much expectation, and so little warmth.”

I bit my lip, the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

“How can I be any different? What if I make the same mistakes? I’ve never been shown how to love a child. What if I end up like my mother… cold, distant, too concerned with doing things ‘right’ to actually love?”

He shifted closer, his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my neck, his grip both grounding and protective.

“You won’t,” he said, his voice certain. “You already know how to love, even though you never saw it from them.” His eyes searched mine, unwavering. “Look at how you love me.”

I blinked, stunned by the simplicity of his words.

“You had nothing to guide you, no real example,” he continued, his gaze holding mine steady, “yet you love me with a strength I never thought I deserved. You’ve given me more than I ever dreamed of, and I know that same love will pour into our child. You didn’t learn love from your parents, but somehow, you’ve always known how to give it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“But you’re different, Noah. You’re not a child. You don’t need me the way a child would. What if I can’t…”

He shook his head, his hand moving to cradle my face again.

“No. You didn’t just find a way to love me. You made me believe in it. If you can do that—show someone like me, who’s spent his life in war, discipline, and hardship, what love really is—you can do anything. And you won’t be alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

I closed my eyes, leaning into him, trying to absorb his calm certainty.

“But I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want to become so wrapped up in expectations or doing everything right that I forget how to feel.”

Noah’s hand stayed firm, steady.

“That won’t happen. You’re stronger than you think, and more loving than you give yourself credit for. If we do this, we do it our way. Not the way you were raised, not the way your father would have expected. We’ll make our own path, just like we have ever since we left that castle.”

His words wrapped around me like a protective barrier, pushing back the fear that had held me in place for so long.

His eyes softened, and he smiled.

“You’ve already done the hard part: You escaped that world, found your own way. If you could only see the woman standing in front of me… You’re more than capable of being the kind of mother you want to be. And whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. That’s all that matters.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a wave of emotion crash over me.

“Is it really that simple?”

Noah’s lips curled and his eyes glimmered with something deeper than love—hope.

“It won’t be simple. But we’ll make mistakes and learn. You’ll show our child the kind of love you never had, and I’ll be by your side through it all, doing the same.”

His hand rested over my heart, where it beat fast beneath his touch.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed. “You, carrying our baby, your belly growing with each day, and you—so radiant it’s like you’re lit from within.”

I scrunched my nose, fighting a smile.

“Radiant, huh?”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Like nothing else in the world.”

He stepped closer and reached down to pluck a small daisy from the ground.

“I can already see it,” he continued, “you walking down this path, your belly sweet and round, a few flowers in your hair...” With a careful touch, he tucked the daisy behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Just like this. You’d be perfect,” he murmured, his hand brushing against my cheek as he pulled back. “When you’re ready,” Noah concluded, “I am too.”

When we returned, the sky had darkened, and the streets were alive with the quiet activity of the townsfolk. We made our way home, walking over the cobblestone streets and exchanging evening greetings with neighbors lounging on their porches. As we approached our house, the familiar warmth of its wooden walls and the soft flicker of lantern light welcomed us. The building was newly finished, larger than the first one we had been assigned, and tucked away from the busier center of the sanctuary. It stood in a peaceful corner with a few other homes nearby, offering enough space for a growing family—three or four children could easily fill its rooms.

I could feel Noah’s presence behind me as we stepped into our room. I needed space, time to process what we had talked about, and Noah—being Noah—seemed to understand that without needing to say a word.

I moved slowly, undressing in the quiet of the room.

The fabric of my robe slipped from my shoulders, falling to the floor with barely a sound. I could feel his gaze on me, warm, but he didn’t say anything. He simply watched me with a quiet patience, his expression soft, thoughtful. Noah had always looked at me like I was something precious—something worth waiting for.

I didn’t rush either. The weight of the day lingered, but it wasn’t overwhelming anymore. It was just there—settled between us like a quiet understanding.

When I finally slipped into bed, Noah was already lying there. He didn’t reach for me right away. He just watched as I settled beside him, the cool sheets quickly warming beneath my body. For a moment, we both just lay there, listening to the sounds of the night—distant crickets, the faint rustle of leaves beyond the thin walls of the sanctuary.

Then, slowly, Noah’s arm draped over my waist, pulling me gently into the circle of his warmth. I pressed my back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, his heartbeat a soft, reassuring rhythm beneath my cheek.

I could feel his breath against my neck, soft and even, as if he, too, had found peace in the quiet. He made no move to do anything more, no hint of impatience or expectation. Instead, his body curled around mine, protective and comforting, and I let myself start to drift to sleep in his arms.

For so long, our lives had been filled with chaos—fleeing the expectations of a princess and a samurai, navigating the dangers of our forbidden love. And now, we were here, in this quiet, sacred place we had found together, where there was no rush, no fear chasing us. Just us, in the stillness of the mountains, knowing that we had all the time in the world.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, and I felt Noah shift slightly, his lips brushing softly against the back of my head in the gentlest of kisses.

— page three

A week later

Verbalizing my desire to become a mother seemed to have triggered the doubts and fears I had felt briefly when I discussed it with Noah the week before.

In the days that followed, I kept asking myself what would make me feel ready—what needed to change for me to take the next step.

The answer, I realized, was nothing. I was with Noah. We were married, happy. We had a home, and we were safe and healthy.

Still, it took me a few more days to actually say it out loud. It felt like if I didn’t speak up, Noah would wait forever, unwilling to take any steps until I clearly told him I was ready.

So one morning, shortly after we’d woken up, I stood in front of a full-length mirror wearing cotton shorts and a plain t-shirt. My hair was still messy, and my face showed signs of sleepiness, even though I had already washed up and tried to make myself presentable in the bathroom just minutes earlier. We had slept well. The night before had been exhausting, but Noah had coaxed me into sleep by spooning me, his fingers moving in soft circles between my legs until I came with a gasp. I don’t remember much after that—I must have drifted off to the sound of his breath against my ear.

As I stood there, I placed a hand over my stomach, imagining it. A smile crept onto my face, and I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Noah approach until he was right behind me.

He wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me not only with his long limbs but with his familiar masculine, earthy scent. He had just shaved and was wearing his training suit. The only thing missing was his katana, resting on the bamboo stand across the room.

He pressed a kiss to my hair, waiting for my eyes to meet his in the mirror. I let out a long, heavy sigh. Before he could frown, I said,

“Okay. I’m ready.”

His eyes darkened with realization.

“You mean...?”

I took one of his hands and gently slid it down until it rested over my stomach. His hand was so large, his slender fingers covered most of it. The sight was both comforting and thrilling.

I bit my lip and nodded.

“Ready ready,” I whispered.

He stayed tense behind me for a moment, holding my gaze with a fierce determination. Finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he nuzzled my hair with his nose until his lips found my ear. His hand, which had been resting on my stomach, slid a little lower.

“Should we start like this?” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver through me. “With you standing in front of this mirror, naked?”

“I—”

“I can undress you in no time,” he promised. “Are you thinking about it? Me thrusting into you from behind until I spill inside of you?”

I bit my lip harder, my mind going fuzzy as my body weakened under his touch.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Without giving him a verbal answer, I rubbed myself against him, pressing my body into his, my derrière against his front.

He growled softly and nibbled at my earlobe.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening...” His teeth lingered on my earlobe as his hands tightened on my kimono. After a brief pause, he let go with a growl of frustration. “Lamentably, I need to be at the training grounds in five minutes. I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Right, so did I, and I was still in my pjs. I couldn’t help pouting a little.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he said, stepping back and adjusting his pants. “You don’t deserve a rushed orgasm. You deserve to be given a sweet time.”

Sensible enough to aknowledge our agenda, I turned around and wrapped my hands around his neck, hanging from him as his arms came around my waist.

“Tonight,” I concluded, my voice low but content.

“How could I say no?” he said, and he leaned down to kiss me.

— page four

What turned into some sort of frenzy began that night.

Noah became increasingly determined to achieve his goal of getting me pregnant, even when there was a high chance it had already happened within the first few days, when we made love on every possible surface in the house.

The first time was in bed, though we had undressed each other hurriedly against the wall, his lips on mine, our hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. We had been building up to that moment all day—stealing glances whenever we spotted each other on the training grounds, brushing past each other whenever our paths crossed, each touch sparking the fire that smoldered between us. Finally, when we reached the privacy of our newly built home, nestled further up in the valley just a ten-minute walk from the center of the sanctuary, we let that tension consume us.

What began as a heated, passionate encounter soon slowed, Noah letting me have my way with him. I flipped him over, moving above him as he panted beneath me, his lips parted, hands roaming my body, worshipping every curve and imperfection.

Noah let me take control for a while, his desire evident, but as his hands tightened around my waist, he suddenly shifted, rolling us over until I was beneath him. His body was strong, and his gaze filled with a mixture of intensity and tenderness. Hovering above me, he held back, his muscles tense with restraint.

“May I?” he asked, his voice thick, barely controlled. His eyes searched mine, waiting for permission, much like a samurai would wait for his commander’s signal to strike, bound by a discipline that demanded patience, even in the face of raw need.

I could only nod at first, my lips parted, a breathless “yes” escaping me.

He moved with deliberate precision until finally, with a growl deep in his chest, he let go. His release surged into me, filling me up as he trembled against my body. I could feel the warmth of his seed coating my insides, settling deep within me.

When he tried to pull away, I placed my hands on his rear, my fingers gripping him tightly, keeping him pressed against me. His body was still, hot and heavy against mine, our breaths mingling in the charged air.

“Don’t,” I said softly, feeling the heat of him inside me. “It’s warm,” I added, the sensation grounding me, making me want to keep him there, connected.

He let out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan. His eyes darkened further, the control he had just moments ago slipping away. The disciplined samurai had vanished, leaving behind a man driven by pure instinct and desire.

We lay there in silence, our eyes locked on each other, and after a few moments, I reached up to run my fingers through his hair, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“It’s getting so long,” I said, my voice light. “We’re going to have to do something about it soon.”

But even as I spoke, I could feel him stirring inside me again, ignoring my attempt at distracting him. His body had barely softened, and now he was already hardening once more, his breath catching, his gaze growing darker. Where moments before he’d held the controlled discipline of a warrior, now he was undone, overtaken by the primal urge.

It turned him on, breeding me.

I bit my lip, my own body reacting to the thought, a flush spreading through me.

“Not helping,” he muttered, his voice low and teasing, though the heat in his eyes said otherwise.

As I tightened around him, I felt Noah’s entire body tense. He groaned, his muscles flexing, a thick vein protruding from his neck as he fought for control. His jaw was set tight, teeth clenched, nostrils flaring, and a bead of sweat slid down his temple. The sight of him like this—on the edge of restraint, barely holding back—was intoxicating. It felt like the first time all over again, because this time, everything was different. He had never emptied himself inside me before, and the look on his face, etched with fierce desire and control, was a masterpiece.

I tightened around him again, deliberately, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way he dug his fingers into my hips just a little harder. He muttered my name in warning, his voice a low growl.

I didn’t care.

“I’m not scared,” I whispered, my voice steady and full of intent. “Fill me up. Again.”

And he did. Over and over. Night after night. In the mornings, in the evenings—sometimes we couldn’t wait until we got home.

On some days, we’d pack a simple lunch and walk to the quiet spot we’d found months ago, a little clearing not far from our house, near a peaceful pond. We’d spread a blanket under the shade of trees, surrounded by flowers and butterflies, and sometimes we’d forget what we’d even come there for, losing ourselves in each other instead, making love under an oak’s shadow.

Some nights, we’d go two, three rounds. The energy surprised me—how neither of us seemed tired despite everything we did for the sanctuary. Noah spent hours training, guiding both children and adults. His dedication showed not just in his skills but in his body. He was bigger now, his muscles thicker, his presence more commanding than ever. I taught archery, though not for as many hours, and when I wasn’t teaching, I’d help tend the animals or the gardens. But no matter how much we exerted ourselves throughout the day, the moment we stepped into our cozy home, all that energy seemed to refuel. We’d fall into each other, our hunger and desire stretching well into the night, neither of us ever quite ready to stop.

One of the last times, I’d been on all fours, my head hanging low, utterly spent after Noah had had his way with me, first by tying me up to his mercy then having me in that position. Noah was still behind me, his hands gripping my hips firmly, keeping me flush against him as he pulsed inside of me. His breathing was ragged, rough.

“Round three?” he asked, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on my skin, teasing me even though I was already undone.

I turned my head, looking at him over my shoulder. My skin was flushed pink, my hair a mess, my legs aching, my core sore from the intensity of it all. But I didn’t care. I wanted Noah. I wanted him to move inside me again. I wanted him to get me pregnant. I wanted to carry his child.

“Round three,” I whispered with a tired but eager smile.

He pulled out slowly, muttering a curse when he saw some of his release slip out of me. In one swift movement, he flipped me onto my back, positioning himself between my legs. Still on his knees, he grabbed the backs of my knees, lifting me slightly so my hips rested on his lap. His cock was already hard again, throbbing and ready. He didn’t waste time sliding back into me, thrusting deep with a rhythm that never failed to steal my breath.

Every movement was controlled and purposeful, and each time he drove into me, I felt the fire build inside again, spreading through me until I was trembling beneath him. When we finally finished, he pulled out carefully, his hand immediately moving to my hips to lift me higher, ensuring none of his release escaped. He wanted it deep inside me—he wanted it to take.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever, my hips elevated in his lap, his hand gently caressing my navel and lower belly. The room was silent, the air filled with the scent of our intercourse and sweat. Even as we lay there, naked and sticky, a flood of images washed over us. I could feel Noah thinking the same things I was.

We could see it—our future. Us, lying in bed with a tiny baby nestled between our bodies, Noah cradling our child to sleep, gently cooing him or her. I pictured myself breastfeeding in the comfort of our bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets, Noah watching from across the room, his eyes soft and filled with love. His gaze would be alight with that same tenderness he had now, but even more so, as we became a family.

This is what we wanted.

— page five

Weeks began to slip by, and with them came a quiet restlessness. I kept waiting for something—some sign, a shift within me that would hint at the pregnancy we were working so tirelessly for. But nothing came. The thought that there might be a problem, that maybe we couldn’t have children, was a worry I hadn’t wanted to entertain, yet it was growing, subtle but persistent, at the back of my mind.

Noah and I were still consumed by each other, our sex life as wild and frequent as ever. Nearly every day, we made love, keeping it thrilling and passionate. On special days, Noah would devote entire sessions to binding me in every possible way he knew—tying me up, restraining me from different angles, making me feel like each time was the first time all over again. Some of the orgasms were so intense that I completely forgot why we were doing it in the first place. That was the beauty of it—to create life without the pressure of it hanging over us. In those moments, we weren’t thinking about making a baby. We were simply focused on each other and the joy and pleasure we brought to what we had.

I couldn’t have asked for a better husband. Noah was everything—attentive, loving, adventurous—but still, a creeping fear began to gnaw at me. What if we got tired of this? What if the constant focus on sex eventually wore us down, eroding the very foundation of our relationship? I was afraid that one day we’d need a break—not just from trying to get pregnant, but from each other.

When that fear became too loud, I started taking time for myself in the afternoons. I’d leave the noise and bustle of the sanctuary behind, wandering deeper into the forest, away from everyone. I’d explore areas I hadn’t yet ventured into, discovering hidden corners where the trees grew thicker and the air smelled richer, heavy with the scent of earth and moss. It was peaceful out there, a quiet place where I could escape the pressure I felt building inside of me. I found comfort in the endless varieties of plants and flowers that grew around the sanctuary, as if the forest itself was alive with possibility and beauty, even when I felt uncertain.

On one particular day, I set out farther than usual, letting my feet carry me to a part of the forest I hadn’t yet explored. As I walked, I heard a noise—a soft cry. It wasn’t the sound of a bird or any animal I recognized. I hesitated for a moment, my heart skipping in response, before I reminded myself there was no need to be frightened anymore. My father’s pursuit had ended, the Shogun’s reach didn’t extend here, and Noah had seen to every possible detail of our safety.

Still, I felt a strange pull toward the sound. I stepped carefully through the underbrush, following the cry until I saw it—a small creature struggling in a tangle of thorns and spiky branches, just beyond a mossy boulder.

A wolf cub.

It was tiny, barely more than a pup, grey dark fur matted and caught in the sharp tendrils of a thorny plant. I crouched down slowly, unsure at first if it was injured, but its trembling told me it was terrified. The cub dark eyes locked onto mine, wide with fear, and my breath caught in my throat. There was no sign of its parents, no sign of any other wolves. The pup was alone.

I approached cautiously, my voice low and soothing,

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

As I reached for the small creature, intending to gently free her from the thorns, the animal suddenly barked, a warning sound that made me pull back. The animal growled, baring its tiny teeth, its body trembling with fear.

I was unsure what to do. My instinct told me to help the cub, but its fear made it unpredictable.

I held my hands out, palms up, hoping the creature would sense I meant no harm.

“It’s alright, I just want to help you.”

It growled again but didn’t back away. I let the pup sniff my hands, my heart beating fast as I watched it and got closer. That’s when I noticed it was a she.

Her nose twitched as she caught my scent, and after a long, tense moment, she seemed to relax—just a little.

Slowly, I reached out to pet her, brushing my fingers lightly against the top of her head. She flinched at first, but then, to my surprise, she leaned into the touch.

“Good girl,” I whispered.

There was something calming about petting her, as though the trust we were slowly building was enough to quiet both her fears and mine.

But the thorns were still tangled in her fur, the sharp spines digging into her leg and holding her captive. She wouldn’t be able to free herself, not without more pain. I realized I couldn’t do it with my bare hands either, at least not easily. That’s when I remembered the knife.

Months ago, Noah had insisted that I carry a small knife with me, just for safety. It didn’t matter how much I had tried to convince him that we were safe here in this sanctuary, that nothing could harm us in these mountains. Noah had needed the reassurance that I would be able to protect myself if he wasn’t there, no matter how remote the chance of danger. Reluctantly, I had agreed, even though I never thought I’d need it.

Now, for the first time, I reached for the small blade at my waist.

“I’m going to help you, okay?” I whispered to the cub, more to reassure myself than her. She didn’t seem to understand, of course, but she had stopped growling, her dark eyes now watching my every move.

Carefully, I brought the knife to the tangled mess of thorns, using its sharp edge to cut away the thickest parts of the plant. The wolf cub shifted uneasily as I worked, her little body tensing, but she didn’t fight me. I spoke to her softly, trying to keep her calm.

“I’m almost done, I promise.”

The thorns were stubborn, but after several moments, I managed to free her leg from their grasp. I set the knife down and gently checked her leg. It was swollen and scratched from where the thorns had dug in, but the wound didn’t look too deep.

“There you go,” I said, stroking her head again. “You’re free now.”

As if in response, she licked my hand, her tongue warm and rough. The small gesture of gratitude caught me off guard, and in that moment, a strange dizziness washed over me like a sudden gust of wind.

I closed my eyes, steadying myself with a deep breath.

When the dizziness passed after a couple of minutes, I opened my eyes again to see her nuzzling my stomach, her small nose pressing curiously against me. I frowned, unsure why she was doing that. She nudged my abdomen again, and again. With her injured leg, she moved in slow, careful circles around me, her little tail brushing against my skin. Without giving it a second thought, I scooped her up into my arms, her small body trembling slightly but no longer resisting me. She felt fragile but also strong in a way that reminded me of the quiet strength Noah always said I possessed.

“Let’s get you to the sanctuary,” I said, standing up and making my way back through the woods.

The cub stayed nestled in my arms as I made my way back. I could feel her warmth against my chest, but I was worried, that’s why I decided I needed to get her to the temple. If anyone could help her, it would be the elderly couple that lived there, with their healing hands and wisdom.

As I approached the ancient stone steps of the temple, my eyes caught the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The place always felt timeless, as if untouched by the worries of the world. The old couple, whom everyone in the sanctuary regarded with quiet reverence, would be behind the main gates, always tending to those in need—human and animal alike.

I climbed the steps carefully, the cub stirring slightly in my arms. When I reached the door, I knocked gently. After a moment, the door creaked open to reveal the warm, gentle smiles of Master Jiro. His wife, Yumi, who had tended to Noah’s wounds a couple of years ago, was kneeling in front of the hondō but immediately rose to greet me. Their eyes, bright with age yet sharp with wisdom, softened as they took in the little creature cradled in my arms.

“Come in, child,” Yumi said softly, her voice like a lullaby, soothing and warm. She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter the quiet temple.

Jiro followed her, his movements slow but purposeful, a peaceful aura surrounding him. His ever-present gentle smile grew a little as he saw the cub, his eyes taking in the situation with quiet understanding.

“You’ve found a friend,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of calm, like a steady river.

I stepped inside, feeling a wave of calm wash over me as the familiar scent of incense filled the air. The temple was quiet, save for the soft sounds of nature filtering in through the open windows. I laid the cub down on a woven mat, her leg still swollen and bruised from where the thorns had gripped her.

Jiro knelt beside her with his slow movements, his eyes filled with compassion as he examined her wounded leg. The cub, sensing the shift, bared her small teeth and let out a frightened growl, her body tensing with fear.

Yumi, always watching, always knowing, knelt on the other side, her hands folded in her lap, calm and still. She smiled softly at the cub, her eyes twinkling.

“She’s scared,” she said quietly, looking at Jiro. “But her fear is only natural.”

Jiro nodded, his expression never changing. “Fear can be soothed with time and care,” he whispered, gently reaching out to touch the cub’s leg.

The cub snapped at him, her little teeth missing his hand by inches. But Jiro didn’t flinch, nor did his gentle smile fade. He continued working, his hands patient and sure, as if this kind of resistance was something he’d long grown used to. He dabbed a soothing balm on the scratches.

Yumi watched quietly, her hands still folded, her eyes flickering from the cub to me with that knowing look she always had, as if she could see more than what was in front of her.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?” she asked, her voice kind but curious, her head tilting slightly as if she could sense something I couldn’t.

I blinked, caught off guard.

“I’m fine,” I replied, though her question left a strange sensation swirling inside me, the same faint dizziness I’d felt earlier. I brushed it off, smiling at her. “Just tired, I think.”

Yumi’s smile never wavered, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something almost maternal, like she knew something before I did. She didn’t press further, only nodded and patted my arm softly.

“Be sure to take care of yourself, child.”

I nodded, her words would echo in my mind later on as I made my way down the temple steps, the cub resting peacefully in my arms.

For now, the cub, despite her initial resistance, began to relax under Jiro’s steady hands. Her growling subsided, replaced by soft, almost resigned whimpers. Slowly, she allowed him to treat her, her body going limp as if she understood, finally, that she was safe.

“There,” Jiro said after a few moments, finishing up with a soft bandage. “She’ll heal just fine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, kneeling beside the cub as she nuzzled into the mat, finally calm. My hand found her soft fur, and I stroked her head, feeling the tension in my own body begin to ease.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Take her home with you,” Yumi suggested. “She’s found you for a reason. She’ll rest better with you.”

I hesitated for a moment, imagining Noah’s reaction when I brought the cub into our home.

As if sensing my doubt, Yumi placed a hand on my arm, her touch light but grounding.

“Don’t worry. Sometimes, creatures like her come into our lives to remind us of something important.”

Jiro nodded slowly.

“She needs you,” he added simply.

With the cub nestled back in my arms, I made my way out of the temple, the warmth of their words still settling in my heart. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows through the trees as I walked back home. I looked down at the sleeping cub, her tiny breaths even and calm now, and I felt that same strange pull inside me. Something about her nuzzling my abdomen earlier still lingered in my thoughts, but those were quickly replaced by Noah. He was always so protective—of me, of this place. Bringing a wolf cub into our home felt like crossing a line, one I wasn’t sure he would understand. But leaving her alone to fend for herself wasn’t an option either.

With a sight, I climbed the steps to our porch. The house stood quiet and peaceful as I stepped inside. I set the cub down on a blanket near the windows facing the back garden, her leg still tender from where the thorns had torn at her. She sniffed around cautiously, her tiny paws padding across the floor as if testing her new surroundings. I watched her for a moment, chewing my lip.

Maybe I could explain it calmly, show Noah the cub’s innocence, how small and harmless she was. But the thoughts in my mind twisted into nervous energy. Wolves weren’t exactly house pets, especially in these mountains. He might see her as a threat, or worse, a reminder of the dangers we had escaped.

The main door opened a while after. I heard the familiar soft clink as Noah removed his katana. The thud of his boots followed, and his steps grew louder as he walked through the entrance of the house.

I exited the living room to meet him there. His dark hair slightly damp from his training session, his eyes softening when they found me. His presence, always so solid, always so calm, made my heart race for an entirely different reason now. He crossed the steps to me with a quiet grace, leaning in to kiss me softly on the lips, his hands cupping my face. But I was stiff, and the moment I pulled back, biting my lip nervously, he noticed.

He narrowed his eyes, instantly reading the tension in my stance.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly, offering a smile I didn’t feel.

“Why are you standing like that?”

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from deeper in the house—something falling and breaking. I winced, glancing toward the noise.

Noah’s eyes darted over my shoulder, and just as he stepped forward, the wolf cub came barreling into the entrance, her small body bounding toward us, paws skittering across the wooden floor. My heart leapt into my throat as I stepped aside, and before Noah could react, she leaped straight into the air, aiming for him.

His reflexes kicked in, and he caught her midair, holding her at arm’s length. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and disbelief.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, staring at the wriggling cub in his hands. The cub, oblivious to his shock, wagged her tail furiously, her tiny teeth trying to nip playfully at his fingers.

I hesitated, wringing my hands nervously.

“I found her in the woods,” I began, my voice shaky. “She was hurt, tangled in some thorns. I couldn’t just leave her there”

His eyes darted between me and the cub, still struggling in his grasp, as if trying to make sense of the situation.

“And so you brought her home?” His tone was incredulous, but not yet angry.

“She needed help, so I helped her. Then I thought… we could keep her,” I continued, stepping closer, my heart racing. “She’s just a baby. Look at her.”

Noah glanced down at the cub, her small body wriggling with energy, her bright eyes full of innocent curiosity. But his expression remained skeptical.

“You thought… what?” he prompted, still holding her at a distance.

“I thought we could keep her,” I said, biting my lip, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

His brow furrowed, and he gave me a long, searching look.

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s a baby,” I argued. “She’s harmless.”

“She’s a baby wolf,” he corrected, his voice firm but not unkind. “And a she, on top of that.”

“What does that matter?” I asked, frowning at his tone.

“Have you thought about her mother?” he replied, his voice lowering as if explaining something to a child. “Wolves are fiercely protective of their cubs. If her mother’s nearby, and she scents her here, it could bring trouble.”

I shook my head.

“She was alone, Noah. I’m sure her mother abandoned her. I searched, but there were no signs of other wolves nearby.”

Noah’s eyes softened, but his grip on the cub didn’t loosen.

“Even if she was abandoned, this isn’t wise. Wolves don’t belong inside homes. When she grows, she’ll be wild.”

I took a deep breath, stepping forward and gently taking the cub from his hands. She nestled into my arms, her soft fur brushing against my skin as she relaxed against me.

“But she’s so small now. We can train her, teach her.”

Noah ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

“Training a wolf isn’t like raising a dog. She’s wild by nature, and when she gets bigger… it could be dangerous. She’s going to hunt the deer, eat the chickens… She could hurt you.”

“I know… You make a valid point…”

“A few, actually.”

“Yes,” I conceded, “and obviously you’re worried,” I said, understanding. “But look—she already likes you.” I gestured toward the cub, who was now pawing at his arm, her tail wagging furiously. “We could tame her and…”

He glanced down at the pup, his expression wavering. She let out a small bark, and Noah’s stern façade cracked just a little. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’s just a pup,” he acknowledged, more to himself than to me.

I sensed his resolve weakening.

“Exactly. And you think she’ll suddenly stop liking you as she gets older? From what I’ve seen, the opposite happens,” I said, smirking a little.

He chuckled at that, shaking his head and looking up from the pup at me.

“You’re impossible.”

I grinned, pressing closer to him, the cub still cuddled in my arms.

“Please, Noah? Just until she’s healed. We can decide what to do after that.”

He sighed deeply, giving in at last.

“Fine. But if she chews through my boots, I’m holding you responsible.”

I beamed, standing on my toes to kiss him.

“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

Noah glanced down at the wolf cub, who had now settled in my arms, her eyes slowly closing.

“But remember,” he said, his voice serious again, “a wolf isn’t a pet. We need to be cautious. Her instincts could change as she grows.”

“I understand,” I said, though I couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory.

— page six

Three weeks later

I found myself walking through the forest near the temple, Trouble padding along by my side.

Her legs had grown remarkably strong, her once clumsy steps now confident as she darted between trees, stopping occasionally to sniff the air.

Despite Noah’s concerns, she had become a loyal friend, never straying far from me.

I smiled as I watched her chase a falling leaf.

Her adaptability to the sanctuary had been extraordinary so far. Each day, she learned more about her new home, her instincts slowly reshaping as she experienced the tranquility of the forest and learnt to become familiar with our little community. At first, she had been wild and skittish, causing trouble wherever Noah and I took her—hence her name. Her eyes had been wide with uncertainty as she navigated the unfamiliar sounds and scents. But now, her confidence was blossoming like the flowers in spring.

In just three weeks, she had transformed from a fragile cub into a robust young wolf, growing almost a third of her body length and gaining noticeable muscle. She had gone from fitting snugly in the crook of my arm to nearly matching my height at the shoulder, her powerful legs carrying her with grace and agility.

Noah and I devoted ourselves to her training, determined to help her shed the wild instincts that could pose a threat to the sanctuary’s other inhabitants. We spent countless hours teaching her commands, introducing her to various animals, and reinforcing positive behavior. Her ears would perk up at the sound of my voice, her tail wagging excitedly as she responded to commands. With Noah’s patient guidance, she learned to obey—“come”, “stay”, “don’t”, and even the critical “leave it,” which became essential when we were near the smaller animals that roamed the sanctuary. She even seemed to grasp Noah’s firm “don’t you dare,” though I suspect it had more to do with the sharp look Noah would shoot her just as she was about to misbehave.

There had been a lot of misbehaving, of course.

One afternoon, I returned from tending to the garden to find Noah in the entrance of our home in a fit of frustration, standing over his chewed-up boots. Trouble had taken a particular liking to them, her little teeth having left marks all over the leather. Noah’s face was a mix of anger and disbelief as he scolded her rather loudly. He stood tall, his posture rigid and commanding, embodying the discipline of a samurai as he confronted the wolf. The authority in his voice was terrifying. Trouble understood quickly. She bowed her tail and retreated, her ears flattening against her head as she scampered off to hide beneath a bush in the back garden. For two long hours, she remained hidden, a small bundle of fur trembling in fear, while Noah paced back and forth, trying to calm down.

Eventually, his irritation faded, replaced by concern.

“Where did she go?” he asked after giving up on his boots—he would need new ones.

I pointed towards the shaking form behind the plants and bushes in the garden. He walked outside, barefoot and knelt down, taking a deep, resigned sigh before calling her name and coaxing her to come out.

“Come here, little one. I’m sorry I yelled. It’s okay.”

It took him fifteen minutes to convince her to come out. Her big eyes cautiously met his, and the moment they locked gazes, she stood on her four legs and stepped out, approaching him hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, extending a gentle hand. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I won’t do it again.”

She sniffed his hand, then gave it a quick lick.

“But please, promise you won’t chew on my boots again.”

Maybe it was the softening of his tone, but Trouble barked as if agreeing, and as soon as Noah smiled, she charged at him, knocking him down into the grass. I burst into laughter, watching the two of them tangled up, Noah grinning beneath her playful assault.

From that day on, they became inseparable. Noah had learned to temper his frustration, and Trouble, having experienced his wrath, understood the bond they shared was deeper than a moment of anger. She followed him everywhere whenever I stayed at home—otherwise Noah would command her to follow me. Her loyalty was so dedicated—it felt as if she had made it her mission to be by our side. Whenever the three of us went for a morning or evening walk, it was a sight to behold—my husband, once a formidable warrior, now calmly navigating the forest with a young wolf trotting obediently at his heels.

I could see the joy in Noah’s expression as he worked with her, his deep voice steady and calming. He took her on long runs through the forest, where she could expend her energy and learn the boundaries of her new environment. The more we trained, the more she thrived. She became a graceful creature, her body maturing rapidly, and I marveled at her transformation.

But it wasn’t just our training that made a difference; I couldn’t shake the feeling that the magic of the sanctuary played a role in her growth and adaptation. The land itself seemed alive with a higher power, its essence wrapping around us every second of the day. I noticed the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting ethereal glows that danced around us, and how the gentle whispers of the wind felt like the sanctuary itself urging us forward. Perhaps it was this nurturing environment that allowed her to adapt and grow so quickly, her size now nearly matching mine, her presence so majestic and commanding whenever she would walk next to Noah or just as she stood by herself guarding our home.

We even included her in our daily routines, teaching her how to interact with the animals we cared for in the sanctuary. I introduced her to the goats and chickens, her curiosity piqued as she approached them with cautious enthusiasm (she did, unfortunately, kill a couple of chickens the first few times we set her free when she was just a pup). However, the way we taught her to interact with the other animals was a step forward, and her behavior became more refined every day. Soon, she was lying beside the goats or running with the deer or chasing kitchens just for the fun of it. Her wildness was tamed but never fully extinguished, and it was beautiful. Her spirit was still there, vibrant and alive, just now channeled into something more harmonious in par with the place Noah and I were building our life.

As Trouble and I grew closer, I began to notice how she mirrored my movements, always keeping me in sight, as if she were as intent on protecting me as I was on protecting her—or as much as Noah was on protecting me. Although I suspected this had something to do with the time she spent training with him, a swell of pride filled me.

Now, as I watched her chase that leaf, I couldn’t help but think of the journey we’d both been on, how we were shaping each other in ways I never anticipated. The sanctuary was becoming a place of growth for all of us, and I looked forward to the adventures yet to come.

We meandered along a narrow path, the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves surrounding us. I paused to admire a cluster of wildflowers, their vibrant colors brightening the forest floor. Glancing down at my companion, I noticed her ears perked up, as if she too was taking in the beauty around us.

After a while, as my feet began to ache a little, I glanced down at Trouble and ran my hand through her fur.

“What do you think about visiting the temple to pay our respects to the spirits of the forest?” I suggested.

Trouble tilted her head, as if contemplating my words.

As we approached the temple ten minutes later, a wave of nausea hit me, sudden and overwhelming. I stopped in my tracks, one hand instinctively going to my stomach. Trouble noticed immediately, her ears perking up, and she bounded back to my side, her bright eyes full of concern as she started to bark in alert.

I tried to steady myself against the wall of the temple, but the pain intensified, and I let out a scream. Before I realized it, Jiro and Yumi emerged from the temple’s main gates just a few feet away, their robes fluttering around them, faces a mix of sudden concern and reverence as they approached. Instinctively, Trouble placed herself between us, letting out a low, warning growl, her body tense and protective as she stood guard, ready to defend me if necessary.

“No,” I struggled to say to her, kneeling to her level and placing a calming hand on her head. “It’s okay. Let them.”

Trouble hesitated, her dark eyes fixed on the elders, then backed off slightly, though she remained watchful. I straightened, forcing a reassuring smile as the elders finally reached me.

They nodded toward the wolf, then looked back at me.

“We need to take you inside. You don’t look well.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but another wave of nausea rolled through me, stronger this time, making my vision blur. I nodded weakly, letting them guide me toward the inside of the temple, my feet feeling heavy and unsteady. As I took a step forward, Trouble let out a sudden bark and bolted into the trees, vanishing from sight.

The elders followed her with their gazes until she disappeared, puzzled, their brows furrowed with concern.

“She’s going to find Noah,” I managed to say.

They brought me inside the temple, laying me gently on a cushioned bench. The aroma of herbs and incense filled the air. My mind swirled with confusion and discomfort as I lay there, one hand resting protectively on my stomach.

I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer, trying to calm my racing heart. The dim glow of the temple’s candles flickered against the walls, casting long shadows that danced eerily around the room. The gentle murmurs of the elders filled the space, their voices a soothing balm against my unease.

Suddenly, I felt the coolness of a cloth on my forehead. I opened my eyes to see Yumi’s kind face hovering above me, her expression warm and knowing.

“There is nothing to worry about. You will be fine,” she said calmly.

And I believed her.

— page seven

Ten minutes later, I found myself kneeling in front of the hondō, alone. The elders had slipped away, leaving behind a stillness that helped soothe my racing heart.

As I breathed in the fragrant air, I felt a shift, a subtle energy dancing through the atmosphere.

I heard the familiar rustling of leaves being stomped upon. The hurried footfalls of Noah drew closer, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at the sight of him as I turned my head.

He looked especially handsome today.

Trouble padded softly behind him, her eyes bright and alert, darting between us as if trying to communicate something to Noah.

Noah’s voice cut through my thoughts as he called my name, his tone laced with concern. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me as he hurried to my side.

“Hey,” I said, feeling a joy that seemed to swell within me. He knelt to meet my gaze.

He looked into my eyes with such intensity, tilting my chin upward to assess me, and I saw the love and worry etched on his face.

“What’s wrong? You look pale. What is it?”

My heart raced. Before I spoke, I took a moment to look into his eyes—my husband’s eyes, the love of my life, the best choice I’d ever made.

“I’m pregnant, Noah.”

He blinked, still crouched on one knee, his grip gentle yet unyielding on my chin, as if he were trying to ground himself in my reality.

“What?”

“I was taking a walk with her in the woods,” I explained, gesturing toward Trouble, who now sat proudly beside me, probably feeling content that Noah was by my side and danger was out of sight. “I decided to climb up to the temple, and suddenly I had this weird nausea and dizziness. The elders took me inside. It’s because I’m with child.”

For a long moment, there was only silence, his eyes widening with every passing second. I could see the shock ripple through him as the words sank in.

“Pregnant?” he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief as if confirming that this was indeed real.

After so much trying, it finally happened.

I nodded.

“Yes, you know... the thing we’ve been trying for the past few weeks?”

The realization hit him fully now, and his expression softened, a mix of joy and concern flickering across his face. Without missing a beat, he stood up, glancing around the temple as if assessing the situation. “Sit down,” he said, his voice filled with sudden authority.

I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“I am sitting.”

“No, I mean... stay down. You need to rest. Let me find some pillows, something to help you feel more comfortable…” His eyes darted toward the elders, who were now gathered near the doorway, watching the scene unfold with gentle smiles and waiting for Noah’s orders.

“Noah, I’m fine,” I insisted, though I could feel a certain exhaustion settling in my bones.

His gaze returned to me.

“You’re pregnant. You need to—”

“I don’t need to be wrapped in cotton,” I interrupted gently, standing up despite the weariness tugging at me. A smile tugged at my lips, buoyed by the joy radiating between us. Noah immediately took my hand, his other arm wrapping around my waist, securing me to his side.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated, more to himself than to me, his voice a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

I nodded, feeling a rush of emotion welling up inside me as I watched the realization dawn on him fully. The joy, the fear, the responsibility—it all played across his face as he held my gaze.

“We’re going to have a baby,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the words settle over us like a precious promise.

Trouble, who had been lying quietly beside me, suddenly lifted her head, her tail wagging with enthusiasm as if could understand the news. Noah glanced down at her, then back at me, letting out a soft chuckle.

“She knew, didn’t she?”

I reached out, running my fingers through Trouble’s soft fur.

“I think she did. From the very beginning…”

We stayed like that for a moment, the three of us surrounded by a profound sense of belonging.

“Let me take you home,” Noah said. “I’ll tell Rei I’m canceling today’s remaining training sessions.”

— page eight

As my pregnancy progressed, the roles Noah and I played began to reverse in a way I never expected. While I was growing a baby in the most comfortable way possible—despite the relentless waves of nausea, the weight pressing down on my stomach, back pain, sleepless nights, and constant trips to the bathroom—I felt an overwhelming joy. There was something profoundly beautiful about carrying Noah’s child; it felt as if my body had been designed for this purpose after everything we had endured together.

But Noah, who had once been so eager to embark on this journey, struggled in ways I hadn’t anticipated. His confidence eroded with each passing day. The man who had been so eager and enthusiastic about getting me pregnant now found himself gripped by anxiety, worrying that something might happen to me or our baby. His protectiveness, which had always been endearing, had escalated to an almost suffocating level. Even Trouble, who had grown really big, seemed unable to provide Noah with the comfort he desperately sought.

The situation began to wear on me. For two months, Noah let me continue my training sessions with children, which I loved. But one day, in a moment of desperation, he knelt before me, his eyes wide with fear, and asked me to quit the sessions.

“Please, just stop,” he begged, his worry hanging heavy in the air.

I began to question whether he might have a breakdown or if he’d have to distance himself during childbirth to maintain his sanity.

I wanted to handle this conflict as best I could. I didn’t want to let myself succumb to tension or anger, fearing the baby might feel it. But Noah was really testing my patience with his insistence that I stop my archery lessons when I was still perfectly fit.

“I will stop when I can’t walk two steps, Noah. There’s nothing wrong with me teaching archery. I’m okay. I feel good. I’m safe. The baby is okay.”

He rubbed his forehead, pacing back and forth in our bedroom.

His anxiety unsettled me.

“Noah…” I walked over and grabbed his hand. I could hear Trouble barking and growling outside, likely scaring the chickens away. “I know this is hard for you, but I need you to let me do this.”

Puffing out his chest to release a heavy sigh, he said,

“I need you to have the most restful, peaceful pregnancy any woman has ever had. I can’t risk losing you or the baby,” he said, his tone serious as he enveloped my hands in his. “I’ve spent most of my life fighting for you, always believing I might never get this chance. Now that I have it, I need to do everything I can to protect it.”

I wanted to be angry at his protectiveness, but his words only made me love him more. I was truly head over heels for him. I had fallen for a boy, and now I was in love with this man standing in front of me, begging.

“I wish you wouldn’t make it so easy for me to love you more every day,” I replied. “I keep falling for you every time you say these things, even when it’s to try to keep me away from the training fields.” I said the last part through gritted teeth, finally coaxing a smile from him. “What would make you feel relieved?” I asked.

“You staying home.”

I scoffed.

“Noah, we should go to the temple and talk to the elders. They’ll reassure you that there’s nothing wrong with me continuing my training. In fact, it’s good for me to keep exercising. I think the baby loves it,” I said, placing a hand on my belly.

Noah frowned, glancing at my growing stomach.

“How could you know that?”

“It started moving,” I replied, my excitement bubbling over.

His eyes widened.

“Not much,” I clarified quickly, “but I think it has. Please, let me keep training?”

For a few seconds, he stayed quiet, eyeing me. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Okay, but the moment I hear one complaint from you or see that it’s taking a toll and you’re exhausted, you’re listening to me. And may I remind you I’m a very skilled samurai with ropes?”

I opened my mouth in playful disbelief.

“Are you threatening to tie me up so I won’t leave the house?”

“Absolutely.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a bittersweet chuckle that echoed through the tension. Here I was, a woman accustomed to overcoming challenges, and he was worried about me slipping on an apple on my way to the training grounds. I understood his fears; after all, this was uncharted territory for both of us. But it was hard not to feel like I was carrying not just our baby but his worries too.

In a strange way, I was learning about love and fear. With each flutter of our child’s movements, I could feel the weight of Noah’s apprehensions and my own anxieties blending into something more profound. We were navigating this journey together, even if it felt like we were often two steps out of sync.

Noah’s tenderness, though at times overwhelming, was a reminder of his commitment. I had to remind myself that he was doing his best, even if it sometimes felt like he was trying to wrap me in bubble wrap.

As the days passed, I found ways to reassure him. We created rituals together—talking to our baby, reading stories, and planning for the future. Slowly, I could see the tension easing from his shoulders.

In the chaos of our fears and hopes, we were finding humor in our new roles. And while Noah’s protective instincts might have felt overwhelming, they were also a testament to the love that had brought us to this moment. In this blend of laughter and anxiety, I began to understand that our journey was not just about bringing a new life into the world; it was also about growing and adapting together, one quirky moment at a time.

— page nine

But I wasn’t one to give up easily. I’d been defying my father’s rules since childhood, so it wasn’t surprising that I wouldn’t follow Noah’s either, though I didn’t like hiding things from him.

At seven months pregnant, I was restless. After a month of bed rest due to high blood pressure—which had sent Noah into a panic—I was desperate to move.

That morning, with Noah off in town with Rika’s and Milla’s husbands for supplies, I seized the opportunity. The moment the house grew quiet, I slipped on my boots and made for the door, but I wasn’t alone in my plan.

Trouble nudged my leg, her muzzle gently but firmly pressing against my thigh. Then, just as I reached the door, she tugged at the folds of my kimono with her teeth, trying to keep me from leaving.

I sighed, shaking my head.

“Oh, come on. You too?” I muttered, feeling a hint of amusement despite myself.

It was ironic, really, how Noah hadn’t wanted to keep Trouble at the beginning, when she was just a tiny bundle in his arms, insisting a wild animal would be too much trouble. Yet here she was, doing exactly what Noah would’ve asked of her—keeping me home, or at least trying to. I knelt down, giving her a gentle pat on her head.

“You’re just like him, you know? Always keeping me in line.”

Trouble gave me a soft, questioning look but didn’t let go of my kimono.

With a little coaxing, I finally managed to free myself, and Trouble, loyal as ever, followed me out the door. She walked silently by my side, her dark eyes still watchful, as though she knew she couldn’t stop me but would make sure nothing happened—to me or the baby— while I was out. She had grown so much during my pregnancy, just like the baby in my womb. There was something oddly beautiful in that—two lives flourishing side by side, both growing stronger with every passing day.

At the training fields, Trouble watched me intently as I practiced with my bow. Her eyes followed my every move, her calm presence giving me a sense of safety. I trained carefully, enjoying the freedom, while she sat watchful and protective.

Afterward, feeling the pull to visit the temple, I walked with her through the woods. The air was still, the sun filtering softly through the trees. Once there, I knelt before the hondō, my hands resting on my belly, offering a quiet prayer of thanks to the spirits for their protection. I asked for strength, for wisdom, and for the safety of our baby.

But merely half hour into my prayers, a sudden shift in the air made me pause. It was subtle but unmistakable, a change in the atmosphere around me that by then I knew too well.

Trouble, who had been lying at ease beside me, calmly stood up, her posture relaxed but aware. That was all I needed to know.

Without even turning around, I already knew who was there.

A voice, stern and unmistakably not happy, broke the silence.

“You’ve been to the training fields.”

I closed my eyes, biting back a curse.

So much for a peaceful praying day, I thought. I should’ve prayed that Noah wouldn’t find out.

I took a breath, biting my lip before getting to my feet with some difficulty. A sharp ache shot through my back, and I winced, suddenly aware that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t have spent so much time training.

Before I could fully steady myself, Noah was there, his hands on my arms, helping me up. His face was close to mine now, and I could see the tension in his jaw, the silent disapproval written across his features. He was not happy.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes for a moment.

His grip tightened slightly, steadying me, but his voice remained low and firm.

“You shouldn’t be doing this, not in your condition.”

I met his gaze, trying to find the words to explain. But Noah’s eyes held a mixture of worry and frustration that left me speechless, and for once, I didn’t have a quick retort. Maybe, just this once, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I haven’t been training the kids, I swear.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Noah replied, his voice low and measured. “You’ve been training yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, biting back a retort.

“Noah, I’m pregnant. I don’t have a broken leg.”

He exhaled sharply, crossing his arms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tunic, dusty from the road, smelled faintly of earth and the woods.

“Clearly you don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t be wandering around in your condition,” he said, his tone a mixture of frustration and worry.

I threw my hands up, exasperated.

“Will you stop talking about me as if I had some kind of problem? I don’t have a problem. What I have is your child in my womb, that’s all. Now stop making a fuss about it. You’re really getting on my nerves.”

His eyes softened for a brief moment, sensing my own tension, but his stubbornness didn’t waver.

“You’re carrying my child,” he said quietly, stepping even closer. “For that to happen, I got inside of you. We did this together. You allowed me in your body, so now…” His voice took on a teasing edge, though the worry was still clear in his eyes “you have to allow me to get on your nerves.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Noah…”

“No, hear me out,” he insisted, his hands still dusted with traces of dirt from hauling supplies in town. He’d been gone all morning with the other men, gathering food and materials for the village. “You let me in your heart, your body, and your life. I’m in. I’m part of this. We’ve talked about this, for God’s sake. You don’t get to ignore my pleas and hide things from me when it’s inconvenient for you— not when it’s something this important.” His hands gently rested on my shoulders, his calloused fingers warm against the fabric of my kimono. “I’m worried because I love you—because I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, to our baby. Do you not get that?”

I sighed, biting my lip as I met his eyes. His protectiveness had always been a double-edged sword, one that both frustrated me and made me love him even more. I softened a little, feeling the weight of his concern.

“I do, Noah, but you can’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m not made of glass. I know my limits. I wasn’t pushing myself. I just… I needed to feel like myself again.”

As we spoke, Trouble, settled down beside me, lying on the ground with her head on her paws, watching the exchange. Her eyes flicked between us, calm and quiet, as if she too sensed the tension and waited for it to pass.

“I’m sorry I went behind your back when I agreed to take it easy…”

Noah stayed silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked down at my belly. His hand reached out to rest gently over the growing life inside me.

“Every time I see you like this—pushing yourself, running around—it scares me.”

I placed my hand over his, squeezing gently.

“I’m okay, though. Really. You’ve got to trust me on this.”

Noah sighed, the weight of the day’s work still visible in the way his shoulders slumped slightly.

“I do trust you. But you’ve got to trust me too. Last time, your blood pressure increased because you refused to rest, and you convinced me to let you do more, and look where that got us. When I say I’d rather you didn’t train or walk around too much, it’s not just worry. It’s because I need you to be safe. I need both of you safe.”

I nodded, touched by the rawness in his voice. My shoulders dropped as I let out a deep breath. I was actually tired, and my body felt heavier than it had all morning.

“Can we go home?” I asked, the admission quiet, almost as if saying it aloud made the exhaustion and guilt settle in deeper.

Noah touched my cheek gently, his other hand instinctively moving to my rounded belly, the connection between us—between him and the life we had created—undeniable.

“Of course.”

Trouble let out a soft huff, as if in agreement, her dark eyes fixed on us. I chuckled lightly.

“You’re in trouble too, as usual,” Noah said, pointing at Trouble. “We’ll have a talk when we get home.”

In response, Trouble barked and quickly ran to my side, hiding her face from Noah. Noah shook his head with a smile and focused on helping me out of the temple.

“And I’m sorry if I was too harsh,” he said to me, his voice lower. “Ever since we found out… I’m on edge. I can’t seem to relax.”

I raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile forming on my lips.

“Hmm. I can help you take that edge off.”

Noah paused, rising an an amused eyebrow at me.

“I can never win with you, can I?”

I shook my head, barely containing my grin.

“If I say yes, what do I get?” He asked.

“Besides your release?” my voice dropping to a teasing tone. “You’ll have me on my knees for as long as you want. I won’t move from there.”

Noah chuckled, the tension in him easing even more as he fell into my playful banter.

“On your knees doesn’t seem like the ideal position for a pregnant young lady,” he continued, his eyes gleaming. “Maybe I’ll just lay you down on the bed and tie your hands. Maybe I can take that edge off myself by keeping you on edge, considering you’ve been quite disobedient lately.”

“Whoops,” I said, grinning. “Am I in trouble?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low.

“In a lot of trouble, young lady.”

I met his gaze, my pulse quickening, and for a moment, the tiredness I had felt earlier melted away, replaced by the familiar spark that always flickered between us. Despite everything—the worry, the exhaustion, the uncertainty—there was still this. Us. That, no matter what, would never change.

— page ten

During my last month, even the simplest tasks had become nearly impossible. Bending down, sitting up, even turning over in bed felt like monumental efforts. And putting on socks? Absolutely out of the question.

One morning, as I sat at the edge of our bed, staring at the socks in my hand like they were the enemy, Noah walked in, fresh from the fields, his hair tousled and smelling faintly of the crisp morning air.

He looked at me, then down at the socks, and without a word, knelt in front of me, taking them gently from my hands.

“You know you could just ask,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he slid one sock over my swollen foot.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh.

“And let you say ‘I told you so’ every day about taking it easy? No, thanks.”

Noah smirked as he slipped the second sock on, taking his time, being so gentle with me. But as he adjusted the fabric around my ankle, his brows furrowed, and he leaned back a little, scrutinizing my belly with a worried expression.

“You’re too big,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I’m concerned. I don’t think it’s normal for you to be this big.”

I raised an eyebrow, barely containing a snort.

“Noah, I’m about to pop. What did you expect? I’m carrying your child.” I placed a hand on my belly, feeling the familiar stretch under my fingertips. “Besides, I bet it’s probably a boy with your long legs. He’s just taking up all the room in there.”

Noah’s face softened at that, his hand moving to rest beside mine on my belly.

“Long legs, huh?” His thumb stroked gently across the swell, a look of wonder in his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a girl, who’s just as stubborn as you and refuses to stay still.”

I laughed, feeling our baby give a little kick as if in response.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Noah leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my stomach, then looked up at me, his brown eyes filled with tenderness.

“I’m just worried, you know. You’re everything to me.”

My heart swelled at his words, and I reached down to cup his face, running my thumb over the stubble on his cheek.

“And you’re everything to me, Noah. But I’m okay. We are okay. You’ve been taking such good care of us.”

He gave me a small, sheepish smile, but I could see the relief in his eyes. He pressed one more kiss to my belly before standing up and helping me to my feet.

“Okay, Mama. Socks are on. What’s next?”

I grinned, leaning into him for support as I stood, his arm slipping around my waist in that familiar, protective way.

“Next? I need some food. A lot of it, actually. And then maybe a nap.”

Noah chuckled, kissing the top of my head as we slowly made our way to the kitchen.

“I think I can handle that.”

As we walked, Trouble emerged from the back garden, her fur brushing against my leg. She sniffed at my clean socks before moving over to Noah, licking his hand as if to say thank you for taking care of Mama. I couldn't help but laugh.

— page eleven

It was a peaceful afternoon, the kind of day that seemed to stretch lazily under the warmth of the sun. I sat comfortably in the living room, surrounded by the laughter and light chatter of my closest friends, Rika and Milla.

We had gathered for tea and pastries, a weekly ritual that helped ease the wait for the baby. I wasn’t due for another estimated two weeks, so we didn’t think much of it as we munched on sweet biscuits and sipped warm tea.

Outside, the garden was bathed in soft light and green colors. I noticed Trouble pacing through the open gates, her large form moving with a nervous energy I hadn’t noticed before. This was not her usual behavior. I furrowed my brows, setting my tea down.

“Trouble,” I called. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

At the sound of my voice, she paused, her ears twitching in my direction. Then, as if responding to some internal command, she trotted inside, her eyes sharp and alert. She came directly to me, nudging my legs with her nose and bumping her muzzle insistently against me, something she rarely did unless something was wrong.

I chuckled softly, brushing a hand through her thick fur.

“What’s gotten into you?” I asked, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw something there—a kind of urgency, almost pleading. Trouble let out a low whine, and then, with a deep breath, she tilted her head back and howled.

Both Rika and Milla stopped talking mid-sentence, their eyes wide with surprise.

“Trouble!” I exclaimed, gently pushing her away. “There’s no need for that! I’m fine, really. We’re just having tea.” I pat her head to calm her down. “Go on, now. Everything’s fine.”

She stared at me for another long moment, as if trying to will me to understand something. But when I didn’t budge, she let out a resigned huff and settled on the floor next to me, her body close.

Rika chuckled, shaking her head.

“I swear, that wolf’s more protective of you than Noah sometimes.”

I smiled.

“She’s been like this ever since forever. Can’t blame her, really.”

For the next half hour, the afternoon continued in its gentle rhythm. We chatted about everything—Rika’s latest weaving project, Milla’s son learning to ride a horse… The tea was still warm, and I felt a comfortable tiredness spreading through me.

And then, it happened.

At first, I felt a strange pressure, followed by a sudden warmth that spread across my lap. My teacup slipped from my hand, shattering onto the floor as I looked down, wide-eyed.

Oh.

“My water just broke.” The words came out of my mouth as I remained frozen on my spot.

Milla’s eyes snapped to mine, and she immediately jumped into action, pushing the tea table aside.

“Rika, go find Noah,” she commanded with urgency. “I’ll get her ready.”

Rika bolted up, nearly knocking over the tray with pastries and sweets in her haste. She darted out the door, disappearing down the path toward the town to find Noah, her sandals slapping against the stones.

Milla turned back to me, her face calm but determined.

“How are you feeling?” She asked with her arms extended toward me.

I shook my head.

“I don’t know,” I truthfully answered. I felt like panicking.

The baby was coming, earlier than expected, and Noah wasn’t there.

“It’s okay. Let’s get you comfortable.”

She helped me up slowly, guiding me toward the couch where I waited with a hand below my belly while she quickly prepared a makeshift bed with a thin futon from a nearby cupboard and pillows and blankets, her hands moving with the practiced efficiency of someone who had done this before.

The windows were quickly shut, and the curtains drawn to dim the light inside. Milla kept talking to me, keeping my mind focused. She helped me remove my wet clothes, and wrapped me in clean blankets. Then she helped me lay down on the futon.

But through the flurry of activity, I could hear Trouble outside the window, pacing and scratching at the door, whining softly to be let in.

Milla shot a glance at the door and shook her head.

“Sorry, girl. Not this time,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, before returning her attention to me.

I winced as the first wave of contractions began to ripple through me.

“Noah...” I muttered through gritted teeth.

Milla squeezed my hand, her voice gentle but firm.

“He’ll be here soon. Just focus on your breathing.”

Outside, the afternoon had grown still. All I could hear now was the sound of my own breathing, the soft rustle of Trouble’s restless movements beyond the closed doors, and the quiet urgency in Milla’s voice as she prepared me for what was to come.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, slipping through my fingers like sand as the minutes dragged on. The early contractions, though uncomfortable, had been bearable at first—just a dull, rhythmic wave of pressure that slowly grew more intense. But now, each surge felt like a storm tearing through my body, and Noah was nowhere to be seen. Every breath felt heavier, every muscle trembling with the effort of staying calm.

Milla was still by my side, her voice steady and reassuring, but I could barely focus on her words. My mind was elsewhere, spinning with thoughts of Noah. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here yet? Had something happened?

Another contraction hit, harder this time, and I let out a low, involuntary groan. Trouble’s whining could be heard faintly through the walls, her claws scratching at the door, and that small sound somehow gave me comfort. Even though she couldn’t be by my side, I knew she was trying to get to me. She knew something wasn’t right.

Then, just when I thought I was completely alone in the room, an old, familiar presence appeared at my side. I hadn’t even noticed her slip in, but there she was—Yumi, the old woman from the temple. She sat quietly, her weathered hand resting on mine, her face calm and wise. I didn’t know how she got there or when she’d arrived, but her presence brought with it an unexpected peace.

For a moment, I closed my eyes, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing. But suddenly, a new feeling overwhelmed me. Fear. A deep, paralyzing fear gripped my chest, and my heart raced. I wasn’t ready. I thought I was, but now that the reality of childbirth was crashing down on me, I realized I wasn’t ready at all.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

The old woman didn’t say a word. She simply gave my hand a gentle squeeze, her ancient eyes filled with knowing. She had seen countless births in her lifetime. She understood. But still, fear gnawed at me, filling every corner of my mind.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I finally heard it—Noah’s voice outside, low and tense. Relief mixed with fear shot through me, and my head fell back against the pillows as I listened, straining to hear his words.

“It’s time, man,” Kenzo, Rika’s husband said, his tone bright and cheerful, though it barely registered with me.

But Noah’s voice, quieter, held something different. A knot of dread. I could feel it, even from where I was lying. He was scared. For the first time since this journey had begun, I realized that Noah—the man who had fought for me, protected me, never once wavered—was afraid. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face this.

“Noah,” Milla’s voice came from the doorway, soft but firm. “You need to be by her side. She needs you now.”

For a brief moment, Noah hesitated, as if unsure if he was even allowed to be there. I could almost picture him standing outside, paralyzed by fear, feeling utterly helpless. It was strange—this man who had always been so confident, now feeling as lost as I did.

He stepped through the door, and the room grew quieter, as if the world had been holding its breath for his arrival. The doors closed behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. He looked at me, and I saw the shock in his eyes. I was lying down, prepared for what was to come, but in that moment, I must have looked so fragile, so utterly different from the woman he was used to. My eyes were half-closed, unfocused, and I struggled to keep up with the pace of the pain that kept crashing over me in waves.

Noah knelt beside me, taking my hand in his, and suddenly, his presence made everything feel just a little more bearable.

“Baby?” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Through the haze of pain, I heard him, and my heart clenched. I turned my head toward him, blinking through the tears.

“Noah,” I breathed. “The baby is coming.”

“I know. I know. It’s time, isn’t it?” Were his eyes watery as he tenderly smiled and moved some hair away from my forehead with his palm?

I wanted to nod and smile but, but then my voice cracked with exhaustion and frustration as the next contraction tore through me.

I screamed.

His face twisted in anguish.

“I’m so sorry,” he rushed to say, his voice trembling. “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Across the room, Rika, who had been helping Milla with preparations, shot Noah a sharp look.

“Noah!” she barked, her tone stern. “You’re not helping her.”

He blinked, startled, then nodded rapidly.

“Yeah, right. Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

He straightened up, squeezing my hand more tightly, his face a mixture of panic and determination.

“Okay, baby, listen to me. You’ve got this. You can do it. You need to push now, all right? Our baby wants to come out, and it needs your help. You’re strong, you can do it, I know. Now push. You’ve got to push.”

And so, I did. I gritted my teeth and bore down, the pressure overwhelming, the pain like nothing I’d ever experienced. Noah’s hand was firm in mine, his voice steady now as he guided me through the hardest moments of my life. Each push took everything I had, every ounce of strength I didn’t think I could muster, but Noah kept his eyes on me the whole time, kept talking, kept telling me how strong I was, how close we were.

I could hear the women’s voices around me, Rika and Milla encouraging me to stay strong, telling me it was almost time. Their words blurred together, just background noise to the sound of Noah’s voice and the pounding of my heart.

Finally, the pain reached its crescendo, and I felt the final push tear through me with a force I didn’t know I had left. Noah was right there, holding me, his eyes wide as he looked down at me, love and fear written all over his face.

“Push, baby,” he whispered one last time. “Just one more push.”

The world outside seemed to echo the chaos inside me. Through the walls of the house, I could hear Trouble howling, her voice raw and wild, piercing through the air. Her howls mixed with the frantic voices of the women around me, and everything felt as if it were spiraling out of control. My body was no longer my own—it was something caught in a storm, tossed and pulled by forces I couldn’t control.

Another contraction hit, and I let out a scream that tore from the deepest part of me. I gripped Noah’s hand so tightly, my knuckles white, as though he were the only thing tethering me to this earth. The room blurred, sounds became muffled, and the pain swallowed everything else. Trouble’s howls outside grew louder, almost mournful, as if she too could feel the chaos coursing through me.

“I can’t—Noah, it’s too much. I don’t think—” I cried, my voice strained and hoarse.

“You can,” Noah insisted, though his voice trembled, betraying his fear. His thumb rubbed small circles into my hand, trying to ground me. “You’re almost there. Our baby is almost here. You’re so close. Just one more push, sweetheart.”

Everything felt disjointed—Milla’s hands guiding me, Yumi’s soft murmurs of encouragement, the sound of the shutters being scratched from the outside by Trouble and her desperate howls still seeping through the cracks. It was too much. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths came in ragged gasps. I could feel the sweat pooling on my skin, dampening my hair, as the waves of pain crashed over me, relentless.

I felt like I was losing control, drowning under the weight of it all.

Then, out of the whirlwind of chaos, I heard Noah’s voice, softer this time, cutting through the noise.

“I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes, searching for something—anything—to cling to. His face was a mixture of love and terror, his jaw tight, but his eyes were steady, fixed on me. He leaned in close, his forehead touching mine.

“Push,” he whispered. “One more push.”

With everything in me, I bore down, gritting my teeth against the agony that seemed to split me in two. Trouble howled again, her voice almost synchronizing with my own scream, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world was suspended in that single, agonizing moment.

Time seemed to collapse, and all I could feel was the raw force of life moving through me. The pain, the noise, the fear—all of it swirled into a cacophony, and just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, the pressure shifted, and suddenly, there was release.

A loud cry filled the room—small, sharp, and so precious—and everything stopped. Trouble’s howls ceased. The chaos around me faded into nothing, replaced by an overwhelming, breathtaking silence.

The world felt distant, like I was floating in a haze. The pain was still there, a dull ache in the background, but it was overshadowed by a deep sense of awe and exhaustion. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw wasn’t the room, or the people buzzing around me—it was a tiny, wrinkled baby, nestled carefully in my arms.

A baby girl.

Her face was scrunched up, her skin soft and pink, with the faintest tuft of hair on her head. She was beautiful in a raw, fragile way, the miracle that we had created, our daughter. I couldn’t stop staring, my breath catching in my throat as the weight of it all hit me. This was her. This was the life we had waited for, the one I had carried for months.

“Noah?” I whispered, barely able to tear my eyes away from our little girl. “It’s a girl. We made a girl.”

There was no response at first. I glanced up at him, expecting a reaction, but he was frozen, staring at the baby in my arms as if the world had stopped spinning. His lips parted slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief, taking in every detail of her—the small fingers, the way her tiny body fit snugly against me.

“Noah?” I said again, gently. “Do you want to hold her?”

Still silent, he finally moved, his hands trembling as he reached out. Carefully, oh so carefully, I placed our daughter into his arms. For a moment, he just looked at her as he held her kneeling on the futon, his breath uneven, his expression stunned. He held her close to his chest, cradling her in the crook of his arm as if she were made of the most delicate glass.

“She’s… tiny,” he murmured. “Like, very tiny.”

I smiled, warmth flooding my chest as I watched him—this strong, protective man who had spent months worrying over me, now completely undone by the sight of our tiny daughter. I leaned my head back on the futon, utterly drained but so happy, watching Noah hold our little girl like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Minutes passed, whispered conversations from Rika and Milla filled the background as they sorted things out, quietly making sure I was okay, tidying the space, checking on me. Occasionally, they asked for the baby to ensure she was healthy, but Noah wouldn’t let go of her, not even for a second. His eyes stayed locked on her, as if nothing else mattered. She wasn’t crying anymore, she was content just being a tiny, warm bundle nestled in her Papa’s arms, her little chest rising and falling softly.

After some time, Noah glanced down at me, his expression worrying as he noticed how tired I looked. He brushed some damp hair away from my face, his fingers warm and soothing.

“Love?”

“Hm?” I responded, my voice barely more than a hum, utterly exhausted but content.

“She’s here,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Our baby girl is here. And she’s perfect, just like you. I can’t believe you did this.” His fingers traced gentle patterns on my forehead, his other arm still cradling our daughter securely against his chest. “I never thought I would feel this much happiness. Thank you.”

A soft, tired smile tugged at my lips as I closed my eyes.

“It was worth it…” I said, my voice trailing off. “Everything we went through… it was worth it.”

Noah cradled our babygirl. The soft rise and fall of her breathing, the feel of her tiny hand curled against his chest—it was everything he—we—had ever dreamed of. Beside him, I was drifting into sleep, my body finally relaxing after the hours of labor.

But suddenly, the peace shattered.

It started as a sharp, burning pain deep in my abdomen, sudden and violent, like something was tearing apart inside me. My eyes shot open, and a scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it. It was primal, a sound I didn’t even recognize as my own.

Oh God, what was happening?

My muscles tightened in agony. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All I knew was the pain. It was unbearable, consuming every inch of me. I heard Noah’s voice, panicked, but I couldn’t focus, couldn’t respond.

“What’s happening? Why is she in pain?” His voice trembled, desperate. “Baby? What is it?”

I could hear the women moving around me, their hands gentle but quick as they pressed on my stomach, their words hurried but distant, like they were underwater. Everything was spinning, slipping. I could barely keep hold of my thoughts. Noah’s hand was on me—warm, strong—but the pain swallowed everything.

I heard the cries of my daughter next to me. And I screamed again.

“Do something!” Noah shouted at the women in the room.

“You need to step back,” Rika said to him, her voice firm but fading in and out. “We need to focus on her.”

“No!” His voice cracked, and through the haze, I heard him. “I’m not leaving her!”

I wanted to reach for him, to tell him I needed him, but I couldn’t. My hands felt useless at my sides. I felt his presence, could sense him so close, but I couldn’t open my eyes. The pain was too much, pulling me under, making it hard to breathe.

“I’m not leaving her! She needs me,” I heard him say, his voice broken. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Noah, we need to—”

“Tell me what’s wrong!”

“We don’t know!” she spat back. “Just let us do our job,” she continued as she tried to get him to step away.

“I said I’m not leaving her. Don’t make me leave her!”

I wanted to cry, to scream his name, but I couldn’t. I could only feel the burning agony spreading deeper, consuming me. My breathing came in ragged gasps, my chest tight.

I could hear Rika and Milla exchange quiet, frantic words. That’s when I heard the shuffle, the loud whimpers of our babygirl, and Noah’s agonized voice.

“No,” he growled, a sound so raw, so desperate. “Don’t—don’t take her from me. Please. She needs to be with me. She needs to be with her mother.”

Rika stepped closer.

“Noah, she needs care. Give her to us, and please, step outside.”

“No! No, no, no,” he choked, his words tangled in sobs. “She needs to be with me—I need to stay with them both.”

I tried to focus, to fight against the haze. I wanted to hold them, to tell him it would be okay, but my body wouldn’t listen…

I heard footsteps. The presence of more people in the room. Men. Rika’s husband and Milla’s.

“Please,” Noah begged, his voice breaking as I heard the soft shuffle of our baby being lifted from his arms. His pain hit me like a wave. I could feel it, could hear his breathless cry.

“Don’t! She’s my daughter! Please!” His voice cracked with grief as he struggled. “She needs me. She needs me!”

I felt her absence too. The warmth of her little body slipping from his arms and out of reach. It was like losing a part of me, a weight crushing my chest, making it harder to breathe.

“Noah,” Kenzo said, restraining him with his brother’s help. “You have to let them work.”

“No! I’m not leaving her! I’m not leaving them!” His cries were frantic as they tried to pull him back.

“Asher, help me!” Kenzo called out.

“No, please, don’t—don’t make me leave them!” Noah’s voice shook as I heard the struggle. He was fighting them, trying to stay, but I could hear the scrape of his boots on the floor as they dragged him away, Trouble’s howls intensifying outside.

“Noah, come on,” Asher said, his tone tight. “They need space to work.”

“I said I’m not leaving her!” Noah shouted, his voice hoarse, but even as he fought them, he was being pulled farther and farther from me. “Please, I need to help her. I need to be with her.”

I felt the door close. His voice, distant, muffled, was slipping from me, as if he was being dragged into some other world. And I couldn’t follow.

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@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian #samurai!noah #noah sebastian fanfic #the unmaking of a warrior #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction #dad!noah

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silent-stories · 10 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series masterlist

Noah jolted awake, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. Sweat slicked his skin, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as the remnants of a nightmare clung to him. He wasn’t sure what happened in it—just flashes of heated words, accusations, anger. But the one thing he remembered most clearly was you.

You were there, your voice trembling with rage, tears in your eyes.

He could still hear the words you’d said, even though he couldn’t recall the specifics.

“Please go now." Then a pause. "Just go.”

The weight of those words crushed him in a way that no nightmare ever had.

Noah sat up, his mind still reeling, trying to piece together the remnants of the dream. But the more he tried, the more it slipped away. All he knew was that something had gone terribly wrong, and somehow you had left him.

His pulse hammered in his throat as he glanced around the room, scanning the darkness. For a moment, he thought he might have woken up in a different house altogether. It felt like the room had shifted, the shadows too long, the silence too thick. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so disoriented, so lost.

Then, as his eyes adjusted, he saw you.

You were there, lying next to him, your body curled slightly under the covers, breathing softly in your sleep. Your hair spread out across the pillow, and in that moment, he felt a wave of relief crash over him. You were still here. You hadn’t left.

Noah took a shaky breath, the panic slowly easing from his chest, though the tightness still lingered in the pit of his stomach. His mind was racing, heart still thundering in his ears. What had that dream meant? Why had it felt so real? When was he going to stop feeling like he was about to lose you every moment of his life?

He focused on you. He could see the way your chest rose and fell with each soft inhale, the calm in your face that only came when someone was truly asleep. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to you, to make sure you were still there, still his.

But as he moved, he noticed that he was trembling. His hands were cold, and his chest felt tight, like the nightmare still had its hold on him. He couldn’t remember the specifics, but the emotion, the fear, the hurt, the terror, was all too familiar.

Don't be a fucking baby, Noah. He told himself.

Carefully, he slid his arm across the bed, reaching for you, and then, with a slow, almost desperate movement, he pulled you closer. His hand settled on your stomach, his fingers splaying gently against your skin. His breath caught when you shifted slightly, your body molding against his, but you didn’t wake up.

Noah buried his face in your hair, inhaling the soft scent of you. He could feel the warmth of your body against his, making him feel safe in a way nothing else could. His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, clinging to you like you could disappear.

For a moment, he allowed himself to melt into the safety of you, letting your presence soothe the shaking that had overtaken him.

God, he loved you. A lot. And he needed you. He needed to know you were still here, still with him.

You stirred slightly, the soft rustling of the sheets breaking the stillness, but you didn’t wake. He relaxed his grip just enough to let you settle again, but not enough to let you go. His heart was still racing in his chest, the fear slowly receding, but it wasn’t gone.

He pressed his forehead gently to the back of your head, letting his eyes close. His chest still heaved with the remnants of the nightmare, but the slow rhythm of your breathing, the soft beat of your heart, helped him.

The minutes turned into what felt like hours, but slowly, gradually, Noah’s heartbeat began to slow and the bad feeling in his stomach began to fade.

With a final, quiet sigh, he felt himself start to drift again.

His arm remained wrapped around you, keeping you close. You had this talent of making him feel safe every time he was close to you. Feel at home.

Many hours later, Noah awoke slowly, his eyes fluttering open to the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains of his bedroom. It wasn’t the harsh brightness of midday, but a gentle glow that bathed the room in a peaceful way.

He vaguely remembered he had a dream during the night, maybe a nightmare. But nothing else, except for the fact that when he hugged you close to him after it, he definitely felt better.

He blinked, letting the quietness of the room settle around him, the faint sound of birds chirping outside mingling with the soft hum of the house.

He shifted slightly, stretching his arms above his head. But as his gaze wandered to the spot next to him—where you were supposed to be—he felt a small pang in his chest.

The space beside him was empty. Again.

A sense of unease rose in his chest.

Dammit, Noah. It's not the first time. Don't be so fucking stupid.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to waking up and finding you in the kitchen —he knew you had your routine, always up before him to make breakfast. But he couldn't help always feeling that way, even if he knew.

The bed was still warm, the sheets tousled from the night, but the absence of you made everything feel… off. What if you weren’t just in the kitchen? What if something happened?

Stop it.

Noah swallowed hard, running a hand through his messy hair. The irrational thoughts rushed through his mind before he could stop them—the same kind of fear that had always been there, even when he tried to bury it, even when he knew he had no reason to worry.

But then he heard it—the soft sounds of movement from the other room. The sound of a coffee machine gurgling, the faint clink of dishes. You. It was enough to pull him out of his spiral, enough to remind him that there was no reason to panic. You were just doing what you always did in the mornings. Everything was fine.

He sat there for a moment, letting the quiet of the morning settle around him.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Noah swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the cool floor. He rubbed his eyes and then stood up, walking toward the kitchen.

The air in the kitchen was filled with the sweet scent of pancakes sizzling on the stove. You were wearing one of Noah’s oversized t-shirts, the one you��d found thrown across the chair in his room, paired with a pair of random sweats that made you feel comfortable.

The pancakes were almost ready, golden and fluffy, when something caught your eye: a piece of paper stuck to the fridge with a magnet. You walked over and took a closer look. Your heart softened almost immediately as you saw what it was.

It was one of Luna's drawings. She’d drawn it just like she always did: with thick, uneven lines and a mess of colors.

In the picture, you saw two bigger figures and a tiny one in the middle of something that looked like a park. You immediately recognized all of them, even if drawn in the style a 3-year old kid had.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. It was the sweetest, most innocent thing. The way Luna had drawn you too made you feel so... loved.

As you stood there, still smiling at the drawing, you felt Noah’s arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you close to him. His chin gently rested on the top of your head.

“Good morning,” he murmured softly, his voice rough with sleep.

You smiled, tilting your head back slightly so you could speak. “Good morning,” you replied.

Noah’s embrace tightened a little. “I don’t like waking up without you,” he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.

You chuckled quietly, feeling his warmth against your back. “I was just making breakfast. You looked so cute sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He huffed, clearly not agreeing. “I don’t care. I’d rather wake up with you.”

You turned in his arms, facing him fully now. His messy hair was covering his eyes a bit and you reached out to move them away, his bare chest warm against your body, and his pajama pants hung low on his hips. He looked so cute: sleepy, disheveled, and impossibly perfect.

You cupped his face in your hands, unable to resist kissing him softly. When you pulled back, your thumb brushed across his cheek, your smile gentle. “Next time,” you said quietly, “I’ll wake you up.”

He blinked sleepily, clearly still a little dazed from sleep, and gave you that adorable, half-smiling look. “I’d like that.”

When your gaze drifted back to the drawing on the fridge, you gently nudged your head in its direction. “By the way,” you said, “is that supposed to be you and me?”

Noah followed your gaze, his eyes flicking to the drawing Luna had made. A small smile spread across his face as he nodded. “Yeah.”

You giggled softly at the sight. “It’s adorable,” you said, your voice light with affection. “I love it."

Noah chuckled, a warm, sleepy sound that made your heart melt. “Mh. It's perfect."

“Yeah,” you agreed, “It is.”

"What are those?" You asked poiting to the things that looked like trees in the background.

"The uncles." He laughed.

"Ooh. Right. I thought this was was a mushroom." You added poiting to a figure with something on its head.

"Nah. That's probably Matt. With a hat on."

"Yeah. Right. Dumb me."

He chuckled again.

Noah’s attention shifted back to the pancakes sizzling away in the pan. “Luna’s gonna cry in happiness when she sees these."

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped the last one.

Noah leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “Thank you for this."

You weren't fully sure he was just talking about pankakes.

That afternoon, you’d spent your shift pouring coffee and chatting with regulars at the café. You’d been almost expecting, that Jason would show up. Again. But, as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that he hadn’t.

It was a small relief, really.

When Grace reminded you that your shift was over, you said bye to her and walked out the place, looking for the keys in your purse.

Just as you were pulling them out, your shoulder brushed against someone else’s. The sudden collision knocked you off balance, and you stumbled back a step.

“Oh! Sorry!” you blurted, already reaching down to catch them. When you looked up to apologize again, your words caught in your throat.

There he was. Jason.

You froze, your heart suddenly racing as you locked eyes with him for the first time in three years. Really locked eyes with him.

His blue eyes were still the same, striking and intense, though they seemed to lack the sharp edge you remembered. There was no anger or frustration there, no judgment, just... a kind of neutral curiosity, like he was trying to figure out who you were now.

He blinked, looking at you with that same familiar mix of awkwardness and hesitance. “Hey,” he said, his voice a little raspy, “Hi, Y/N.”

You stood there, uncertain of what to say. You weren't ready for this. Not even after three years. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a moment.

“Hi,” you finally managed, the word feeling clumsy on your tongue.

He shifted uncomfortably, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were both just staring at each other. Neither of you seemed to know what to do or say. It had been years since you last spoke, and so much had changed since then.

You cleared your throat, feeling the awkwardness rise. “Sorry... I really have to go.”

You started to turn away, but he spoke again, his voice just a bit more urgent. “Wait. Please, wait.”

You paused, and despite every instinct telling you to just leave, something about his tone made you stop. You turned back to him.

This close to him you noticed all the little details you had ignored until then: a couple of rings on his fingers, a box of cigarettes peeking out of his jacket pocket, an earring on his left lobe that once didn't there was.

“Listen,” he began, his words coming out in a rush as if he needed to get them all out in one go, “I’m not back in town to cause trouble, I promise. The tattoo shop in the other town wasn’t working out anymore. Too big, too many people to pay. It wasn’t what I thought it would be. So I came back here. Just because It’s a place I know."

His words felt oddly... honest. He was speaking clearly, not like the defensive person you remembered. There was something subdued about him now, a sense that whatever anger had existed between the two of you had long faded, if not completely gone.

“And,” he continued, a bit more quietly, “I don’t want things to be... weird. I mean, I’m not saying we need to be friends or anything, but... I just don’t want us to hate each other. I think we deserve at least that, right?”

The last words lingered in the air, and you felt your stomach twist. Your mind raced as you processed what he was saying. Part of you wanted to tell him to just leave, to not even bother. That you hated him for how he treated you all the time you have been together.

But another part of you, the one that had been carrying around so much unresolved tension for years, felt... uncertain.

You exhaled, glancing away for a moment to gather your thoughts. “Mh... Yeah, well, we can...we’ll see,” you muttered. “It’s not that easy.”

He nodded, his face softening with understanding. “I know,” he said, almost to himself. “I get it. I just didn’t want you to think I was here to make things worse. I’ll try not to bother you again.” He paused, as though contemplating something else, before adding quietly, “Anyway... I hope you have a good day.”

It felt like he was trying to ease the tension, to leave the encounter on a lighter note. His words were polite—too polite, almost, considering everything you had been through together. There was no bitterness in his tone, no anger, just a quiet acceptance of whatever you decided to do next.

For a moment, you were left standing there, your heart still beating quickly in your chest. He wasn’t trying to fight, wasn’t asking for forgiveness. He was just... trying to make peace.

“Thanks,” you said softly, not sure if it was the right thing to say, but feeling like it was the only thing that made sense. You gave him a nod before turning away.

Your footsteps felt heavy as you made your way to your car, a thousand questions swirling in your mind. What was that about? What did he really want? His politeness had caught you off guard, and it didn’t sit right in your chest. Was this a genuine attempt at peace, or just him trying to absolve himself of guilt? You couldn’t quite tell, but something in his calmness seemed... too easy.

As you slid into the driver’s seat of your car, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You glanced up at the rearview mirror, but all you could see was your own reflection, just as uncertain as when you had bumped into him.

With a sigh, you started the engine, the questions still swirling in your mind. “What the hell just happened?” you muttered under your breath, pulling out of the parking lot and driving away.

The road ahead was clear, but your thoughts were anything but.

Noah♡: Hey beautiful, how was your shift?

You set your phone down on the kitchen counter and finished cleaning up the dinner dishes. You’d been thinking about Jason all afternoon, trying to shake the unsettling feeling that encounter had left you with. After a moment, you sighed and picked up your phone again, fingers hovering over the screen as you debated whether to text Noah about it.

You: Hey! Good, but something happened.

You: I ran into Jason. Like actually ran into him.

You leaned against the counter, waiting for Noah's reply. Your mind started racing again, replaying the awkward, strange way Jason had looked at you. The familiar blue eyes, but now they seemed softer, less angry. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Noah♡: What?

Noah♡: What happened?

You quickly typed your answer.

You: He just bumped into me outside the café. We talked for a minute... He seemed different.

You: He said he didn’t want things to be weird between us. He seemed kind of... genuine?

You pressed send, chewing on your lip as you looked out the window. The streetlights outside cast a soft glow across the empty driveway, but you mind was still full of doubts. Was he really trying to make peace? Was that what this was?

Noah♡: He’s still Jason.

Noah♡: And from the way you always described him, I don’t trust him.

You frowned, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. He was right, of course. Of course he was right. Jason had hurt you in ways that weren’t easily forgiven. You knew that. But still, there was that nagging feeling in your gut, the part of you that wondered if maybe—just maybe—people could change.

You: I know, I know. I just... part of me thinks he’s trying to make peace. But it feels strange, too.

You: I have so many doubts. I’m just not sure what to make of it.

You: I hate this.

Your fingers tightened around the phone as you stared down at the screen. Did you want peace, or closure? Or both? Did you want to see him and not feel mad at him for how he treated anymore? Did you want to not see him ever again?

You: Can I call you?

You: I feel like texting isn’t enough right now.

A moment after you sent the last text, your phone buzzed, and you immediately picked it up.

"You can always call me. You know, that."

You pressed the phone to your ear, already feeling a little better just hearing Noah voice on the other end.

The sound of Luna’s excited little voice echoed in the background as Noah talked. "Hi!"

You chuckled. "Hi, Luna!"

You heard Noah's little laugh before he spoke again.

"So... what did you want to tell me?"

You smiled softly, resting your head against the wall as Noah’s familiar voice filled your ear.

"So... he just didn’t seem like the angry person I remembered. I don’t know. I didn’t expect to feel so... like this. He said he wanted us just not to hate eachothers, but... I don't know if I can trust him. I don’t know if I should even give him the time of day. But part of me wonders... is that just me being bitter?"

"I don’t like him. You know that. I wish I could just... send him back from where he came from."

The protective edge to his voice reminded you just how safe you felt with him. You let out a soft breath, your lips curving into a small smile.

"Yeah... it's just. It's hard."

You heard Noah shift on the other end, and for a second, there was a soft silence between you two.

"I get it. But if he’s back to try and mess with you, with us, I won’t let that happen."

"I know... I just wanted to tell you what happened. It felt right."

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice is soft, warm, and steady.

"I love you."

You smiled as you listen his voice blending with the sound of Luna laughing in the background, and for a moment, everything feels right.

"I love you too. Goodnight, Noah."

"Goodnight. I’m here if you need me."

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicolelynn @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x y/n #bad omens #noah sebastian #tbaf #to build a family #dad!noah sebastian

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