The limousine screeched to a halt at the private hospital's emergency wing, tires crying against the pavement. Taichi didn't wait for the driver—he kicked the door open, stumbling out with Yu clutched to his chest, Yu's limp arm dangling uselessly, his head rolling against Taichi's shoulder with every frantic step.
The world blurred around him—white coats, snapping gloves, metal gurneys rattling—but all Taichi could see was Yu's face, slack and terrifyingly still.
"He—he collapsed—he said it hurt—he couldn't breathe—please—please—!"
His voice broke into something unrecognizable.
A swarm of doctors surged forward.
"Patient at eight months—severe abdominal pain, decreased responsiveness—possible placental abruption!"
"Get him inside, now!"
"Contact obstetrics—page NICU!"
Their voices merged into a ringing roar Taichi couldn't parse.
Yu was lifted from his arms—no, taken—and Taichi clawed at the stretcher, trying to hold on.
"Wait—wait—please—I'm his husband—I'm his husband!"
His voice was hoarse, frantic, ripped straight from his chest.
"Let me stay with him! Don't take him—please don't take him—!"
A nurse caught him by the wrists to stop him from gripping the railing.
"Sir, we need space to work—!"
"He needs me! He needs—Yu, baby, I'm right here! I'm right—"
The doors swallowed the gurney before he could finish.
Riku's hand slammed down on his shoulder, stopping him from sprinting after them. The grip was firm, grounding—and cruelly necessary.
"Taichi!"
Riku barked.
"Stop. Listen to me."
Taichi was shaking so hard his knees nearly buckled.
"Dad, I can't— I can't just stand here—what if—what if he doesn't wake up? What if the babies—what if I lose him—?!"
His voice cracked, the air strangling in his throat.
Riku turned him around firmly, forcing Taichi to meet his eyes. The older man's expression remained composed—steel layered over panic—but his eyes, gods, his eyes were shaking.
"Let them work, Taichi."
Riku said quietly, voice trembling despite himself.
"This is their battlefield. Not yours."
Taichi's breath came in violent bursts.
"I should have driven! I would've driven faster—I should have noticed sooner—he said he was dizzy this morning and I told him to come to this dinner—I should have stayed home—I should have—"
Riku squeezed his shoulder until it hurt.
"This is not your fault."
"Yes it is!"
Taichi's voice tore out of him like a scream.
"Everything is my fault—I should've protected him— I promised him I would— I promised—!"
His legs finally gave out and he staggered backward, collapsing into one of the waiting chairs. His hands shook uncontrollably as he stared down at them.
These were the hands that held Yu earlier today. These were the hands that were supposed to keep him safe.
Now they felt useless. Empty.
Powerless.
Through the glass doors, he glimpsed a flash of Yu's pale form being rushed down the hall, the curve of his swollen belly illuminated in harsh white light. For one crushing second, Taichi saw the worst—Yu's stillness, the fragile rise of his chest, the possibility of two small lives being ripped away before they even took their first breath.
"I can't lose him."
Taichi whispered, a prayer or a confession. His face crumpled as his hands rose helplessly to his hair.
"I can't—I can't—I don't know how to breathe without him—"
Riku knelt beside him, pulling his trembling son into a steadier hold.
"Then breathe."
He murmured, voice breaking.
"Breathe now. Fall apart later. Yu needs you to survive this moment. The babies need you to survive this moment."
Taichi buried his face in his palms.
Inside the emergency wing, an alarm blared.
A voice shouted.
"BP dropping—prep for immediate surgical intervention!"
Taichi's heart stopped.
And the only thing he could do was sit there—helpless—while the world he loved most in his life was carried further and further away from him.
---
The world was a blur of motion and sound. Metal clattered, monitors beeped, voices barked orders over each other. He felt hands, straps, cold air rushing over his skin as fabric was cut away.
"Vitals unstable—babies still holding steady. Move, move!"
That phrase cracked through the fog.
'The babies… they're okay…'
Relief swelled through him, fragile and fleeting.
Then he was no longer in his body. He hovered above it, looking down at himself lying on the table. His belly, heavy with eight months of life, dominated the view, the doctors moving around it like priests at some strange altar. Tubes, machines, flashing lights—all alien, all miraculous.
'This… this is so magical!'
Yu thought.
'Not like spells or runes… but it's magic all the same. This world's power.'
He remembered the first time—when Taro and Kenji had been cut from him in a storm of fear and pain—but back then, he hadn't dared to look. Now, he couldn't look away. Every strange device fascinated him, every gesture of care another reminder of how different this world was from the demon realm.
And then—
[DING! UPDATE COMPLETE! DING! ENERGY REPLENISH! DING! Mission Completed.]
The chime rang in his skull like a bell.
[Congratulations, Host Yu!]
DK01's uncharacteristically cheerful voice announced.
[You have achieved 100% with Taichi—and 100% with Isuke on the Love-o-meter.]
Yu shrieked, spinning in his incorporeal form.
"What the—NOW?! You've been silent for MONTHS, and THIS is when you pop up?!"
DK01 made a polite cough.
[Apologies. But do you remember that first math test you took in high school when you first came to this world? Remember how, by my intervention, you passed with flying colors? Well, in order to get that perfect 100, I had to use my precious energy to rewrite the correct answers for you thereby interfering with the world's order. I'd been holding off on leaving you alone to recharge until I felt you had everything handled.]
DK01 gave Yu a skeptical look, it's glasses tilting as if being adjusted like a stern teacher. Yu shrunk away at the embarrassing memories of his first arrival that felt both faded yet vivid, making him shiver with cringe.
[Unfortunately, I required extensive downtime to recover system energy and perform upgrades so I had to leave abruptly. However, I am now able to provide more frequent and accurate updates regarding character profiles, roles and projected outcomes.]
Yu's incorporeal fists clenched as he pouts.
"You still left me alone! Do you have any idea what I've been through—what I've DONE—while you were gone?!"
[I have partial records…]
DK01 admitted.
[But I require the host's perspective to complete the data. Please, Yu—tell me.]
Hovering above the operating table, Yu's incorporeal form trembled as fury cracked into exhaustion. He turned his gaze down at his own body, the doctors working frantically, the bulge of his eight-month belly trembling beneath their hands. His voice cracked against the sterile hum of the machines, small and broken.
"Fine. But you're going to listen. You're going to hear every single thing."
And DK01 did—silent but unyielding as Yu poured everything out.
Yu began to pour it all out—his betrayals, his loneliness, his moments of weakness, the fragile rebuilding with Taichi—all while his unconscious body fought to hold on, to protect the tiny lives that had yet to be born.
He spoke of the night Taichi stumbled home smelling of alcohol and perfume, of the lipstick stain that seared itself into his heart like a curse. He confessed the suffocating loneliness, the endless tears he swallowed in the dark so the twins wouldn't hear. He admitted how the silence stretched so wide he thought he would die inside it.
Then his voice fell lower, harsher, choked with guilt.
"I went to Isuke. I let him hold me, kiss me. I let him be Taichi when Taichi wasn't there. I wanted warmth so badly, I took it from the one man I should never have touched. And it killed me every time, but I kept going back."
He clutched at his incorporeal chest, as though the pain were tearing him apart anew.
"And now… now I'm here, carrying life, carrying his children—Taichi's children—and I don't even know if I deserve them. I don't even know if I deserve him."
DK01's digital voice softened, almost human.
[You endured. You bent, you broke, and yet—you're still here. That means something, Yu. It means there is still a path forward. And to give you some relief, after a data analysis, I determined it wasn't entirely your fault you fell into Isuke's grasp.]
Yu froze, stunned by what DK01 just told him. It continued.
[Yukio's own residual feelings contributed in swaying your heart and your own Incubus nature only amplified them. It also affected your hunger for intimacy and without your "food source"—AKA Taichi—there to supply constant nourishment like before, especially given your pregnant state—a time when it's needed most—it only makes sense you seeked another "food source," albeit subconsciously.]
This new information shocked Yu! It gave him an excuse—a tangible and logical reason for the pain he went through—and he should have felt relief, grateful even but Yu couldn't stop the tears. He floated closer to the table, watching the doctors work, the bulge of his eight-month belly trembling under their gloved hands.
"I should feel glad… So why does it not make me feel better?"
DK01 stayed silent and let Yu cry as the doctors began cutting and working on his body.
---
On the other side of the doors, Taichi paced like a caged animal, fingers running through his disheveled hair until it hurt. His suit jacket was long discarded, his tie hanging loose.
Riku sat rigid, arms folded, face locked in grim focus. Only the twitch of his jaw betrayed his own worry.
The double doors burst open and a doctor approached, pulling down his mask.
"The delivery is complete. All four babies are stable."
Taichi's chest seized.
"F-Four babies?"
"Yes. Four."
The doctor's tone was flat, factual.
"Three boys and one girl."
The world seemed to tilt sideways. Taichi staggered back, clutching the wall.
"Four? No—no, you're wrong. The doctor said twins. He said—"
His gaze darted to Riku, panicked, disbelieving.
"Dad, what—?"
The doctor's eyes flicked to Riku, then back to Taichi, misreading the silence.
"…I assumed you knew. You are the father, aren't you?"
Riku's face hardened. He shook his head quickly.
"Don't look at me. I've no part in this. Taichi… you didn't know?"
Taichi's breath came shallow, frantic.
"Twins. We were told twins. How—how could it be four?"
His voice broke on the number.
"Four…"
His legs nearly gave way beneath him, torn between awe and terror.
He managed a hoarse whisper.
"When… when can I see Yu?"
The doctor's pager beeped sharply. He checked it, and in an instant his calm expression cracked. Without answering, he turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the operating room.
The word fell from Taichi's lips like a prayer.
"Yu…"
And then, the alarms inside the ward began to sound, piercing through the sterile halls, shrill and relentless.
Taichi slammed his fists against the wall by the sealed doors, knuckles bleeding, his voice raw.
"What's going on?! Why aren't they saying anything?! What's happening to him?!"
Riku grabbed his son's shoulders, forcing him still though his own hands shook.
"Panicking won't save him. The doctors will."
His voice was iron, but his eyes betrayed him—dark green, strained, desperate.
Through the small window in the doors, flashes of movement could be seen:
Nurses darting, doctors shouting orders. The words blood loss and critical echoed faintly through the glass.
Taichi pressed his forehead to the door, his tears streaming unchecked.
"Please, Yu… don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me."
For the first time in decades, Riku bowed his head in prayer. Not to a god he believed in, but to anything, anyone, that might spare the fragile boy who had given his broken son life again.
---
Yu hovered above his body, phantom-light trembling as he watched the chaos below. Sheets stained red, gloves slick with blood, the beeping of machines turning erratic.
Doctors and nurses barking status and orders. Everything was moving in a rushed mannerly order yet still it all felt so chaotic.
"Pressure's dropping—he's losing too much blood!"
"Clamp that artery—now, now, now—we're running out of time!"
"He's coding! Start compressions!"
"Page anesthesia—we're not maintaining perfusion!"
"Get more units in here—O-negative, two more bags! Move!"
"Charge to 120—clear!"
"Come on, stay with me—don't let go—"
"The bleeding won't stop—we're fighting seconds!"
"Prep for another transfusion—he's spiraling!"
"Heart rate's crashing—push epinephrine—push it!"
Hands moved steady but fast. Shocks of electricity coursed through Yu's limp and open body. The sight unnerved Yu but even then, his mind still stuck with the thoughts of his new born babies. Of the two twins waiting back at Riku's mansion who just started walking and drinking from cups. To Taichi who was still just on the other side of a wall.
"No… no, not like this."
His voice cracked though no one could hear.
"Not today. Not when my babies just came into the world."
His gaze fell to the clock on the wall. 4:30 a.m. The hour mocked him. His heart clenched as he thought of Taichi holding their four babies and raising six, not as a father, but as a widower. The thought made him choke.
"DK01!"
Yu screamed into the void of his own mind.
"Do something! You can't just watch—I can't die now! Please, help! I can't die today, not on the same day they were born! Taichi will never forgive himself, never celebrate them if he ties their birthday to my death!"
DK01's voice came steady, tinged with something almost like regret.
[Calculating… One option available. For every one JP point expended, I can extend your survival by one hour. No more than that.]
Yu froze.
"How many points do I have?"
[Twenty.]
His eyes shot back to the clock. Twenty hours. Barely a single day. It wouldn't be enough for forever. But it might be enough to see tomorrow. To see Taichi's face again. To hear his babies cry.
"Do it."
Yu said, his voice sharp with resolve.
[Warning!]
DK01 cautioned.
[If you do this, you will have no points left to purchase from the shop. No tools. No resources for later missions.]
"I don't care!"
Yu shouted, his phantom fists clenched.
"If I die now, I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of knowing I could have done something. Do it, DK01!"
[…Confirmed.]
The moment the words left, a ripple of light coursed through his phantom form and sank back into his body. The monitors steadied—not perfect, but no longer plummeting. Nurses gasped. The doctors blinked at the sudden stabilization as though witnessing a miracle.
"Vitals holding…"
One nurse called out, astonished.
The head surgeon's voice cracked like a whip.
"Don't just stand there! We're not out of the woods. He's on borrowed time. Get your heads back in it—we're saving this patient!"
But Yu heard it differently. To him, the words tolled like a funeral bell. Borrowed time. Borrowed, not won.
Hovering there, phantom-Yu trembled, staring down at his pale, fragile body. He whispered into the room, his voice breaking.
"I can't let Taichi remember today as the day I died. Not on their birthday… not on their birthday…"
And still, the blood kept flowing.
As Yu continued to hover in the operating room, the smell of iron and antiseptic grew thicker in the air though he no longer breathed it in. His body lay below, pale, trembling under the machines, while the doctors fought furiously to keep the lines on the monitors from flatlining again.
He couldn't watch. Not when every movement reminded him how close he was to disappearing forever. He turned to DK01, voice shaking.
"Please… let me see them. My babies. Just once."
DK01's tone came calm, matter-of-fact, though Yu thought he heard a trace of gentleness there.
[The body is merely a vessel now. You are free to roam. But know this—you cannot touch, cannot speak. They will not know you are there.]
Yu swallowed hard, nodding.
"That's enough."
He walked—no, drifted—through the double doors, his phantom body sliding effortlessly through metal and glass. The hospital hall stretched cold and white.
The first thing he saw was Taichi. His Taichi, head bowed, hands clasped so tight the knuckles were white. His broad shoulders shook as he muttered broken apologies to no one but the floor. Beside him, Riku sat stiff and rigid, jaw locked, but his eyes were glassy and rimmed red.
Yu's chest squeezed. He ran to Taichi and tried to hug him, but his arms slipped through like mist. He gasped, his phantom hands clutching at nothing.
DK01's voice whispered.
[You can walk, Yu. But you cannot touch. Nor can they hear you.]
The truth hollowed him out. Still, he bent down, whispering anyway.
"Taichi… I'm sorry. It seems… I'm going to have to leave you this time. Please, don't blame the kids. Look after them. Look after our twins, and the new little ones. Be the father I know you can be."
He leaned close, kissing Taichi's lips—only to phase through them, the gesture both tender and unbearably cruel.
Yu turned to Riku, eyes burning.
"And you. Be kinder to him. Make amends. Stop being so awful and neglectful. He deserved better than you gave."
He swung a hand, tried to slap the man upside the head—but it passed through, a ghost's blow that left no mark.
Still, saying it loosened the weight in his chest.
Yu then drifted down the hall, following the faint sound of newborn cries. When he slipped through the nursery doors, his breath caught.
Four. Four tiny bundles, swaddled and tucked into clear bassinets, their tiny fists waving, mouths puckering. Three boys, one girl.
Tears blurred his vision.
"Four…? I thought—twins…"
DK01 hummed, ever clinical.
[The babies shifted. Moved behind each other. They were hidden enough that even the doctors missed it.]
A pause.
[Though one might question how you could not have noticed. Your stomach grew larger than with the twins. You watched the doctors take them out...]
Yu huffed, a watery chuckle through his tears.
"I wasn't at full term with them yet when I had my c-section. I just thought it was normal… And, and those stupid doctors were blocking my view and saying so many things at once! How would I know I could just go right through them to take a look! Stop making me feel dumb about it."
He pressed ghost-hands against the glass, aching with longing.
"They're so beautiful."
The sight branded itself into his heart, yet he knew time was bleeding away. With a shaky step, he turned and drifted out of the nursery, through the halls, through the hospital's walls.
The night air met him cool and sharp. Lights glimmered across the city as dawn threatened the horizon. Yu lifted his gaze, the pull of something else drawing him forward.
Toward Riku's estate. Toward the place where all of this had begun to unravel.
His phantom body walked the streets, silent and unseen, clutching guilt and love like twin anchors as the world spun on without him.