The afternoon was a slow, suffocating death.
The baby tyrant was in fine form.
No surprise—the tiny torturer had plenty of practice, now that Yumi was back home while her husband was shipped overseas on a long work assignment.
The baby girl's screams weren't just cries; they were piercing, soul-shredding shrieks that vibrated through the floorboards and drilled directly into Seiji's skull. He was trying to read, but the words swam into a meaningless blur under the sonic assault.
Downstairs, Yumi's composure cracked in slow motion.
Her shushing turned desperate.
Her desperation crumbled.
And finally, painfully, Seiji heard her sob.
That was the sound that broke him.
With a sigh, he marked his page and set his book down. The amulet, a warm weight against his chest, seemed to hum in agreement.
He found his sister in the living room in complete collapse. The baby, red-faced and furious, fought her every move.
Seiji felt something shift in him.
Not pity.
Something heavier.
She's too young to be doing this alone. She needs help. And there is no one else.
The amulet warmed again.
I can help.
Seiji didn't say anything. Words were pointless. He just walked over… He held out his hands…
For a second, Yumi just stared at them as if they were an alien appendage. Then, with a last sob of capitulation, she placed the screaming bundle into his arms.
Seiji took her. He didn't jiggle or bounce. He just held the baby securely against his chest.
As soon as he touched the baby, the amulet flared with a soft, invisible warmth. Seiji could feel the baby's panic, her sensory overload. And without thinking, he pushed calm through the amulet and into the child.
Calm.
Quietness.
Grounding.
The screaming stopped.
Completely.
Silence crashed into the room.
Yumi stared, her mouth open. The relief that washed over her was so intense that her shoulders collapsed forward.
"H-how…?" she muttered.
Yumi wiped her eyes and looked at her brother with a spark of gratitude so intense it was almost frightening.
"Some days," she whispered. "I don't think I can do it." Something flickered in her expression. "But this—" she blurted out, before she could stop her words. "It's like she found a dad."
The second the words left her lips, the air in the room froze. Yumi's eyes went wide with horror. A deep, crimson blush flooded her cheeks, and she looked away, stammering, "I—I mean... I just... I didn't mean..."
But Seiji had heard.
She finally found a dad.
The words didn't just echo—they detonated.
Not just in Yumi.
In Seiji.
He felt his sister's embarrassment—and beneath it, that trembling sense of truth. The amulet pulsed against his chest in a slow, triumphant beat.
I didn't just calm the baby. I calmed her. And she just handed me her husband's crown on a silver platter. He looked down at the sleeping baby girl, then back at Yumi's blushing face. A slow grin finally won the battle.
This feeling…
This impact…
This was the beginning of something monumental.
The end of the old version of him.
He wasn't invisible. He wasn't weak.
He was someone who really mattered.
Is that how it feels when a woman is yours?
For the first time in his life, Seiji felt powerful.