Takanashi Toka's mind was boiling over, like tiny bubbles gurgling in a pot of water.
The weight of what Minamoto Senya had just murmured in his sleep was far too much for her heart to handle—it was about to burst!
What did he mean by… "for our child"?!
Putting it together with what he'd mumbled before, there was no question that the "our" referred to her and him, right?
Their child… wasn't that the same as saying… saying…
That in his dream, she and he… had gotten… m-married?!
Ugh!!!
If she had a mirror now, she'd see her face as red as a boiled crab.
And just then, still asleep, Senya let out a quiet laugh—probably from being too happy.
It wasn't loud, but in the silent night, it was more than enough for Toka to hear.
She glanced down at him.
Not only was he smiling, but that expression—so content, so blissful—was the kind of happiness that could only come from a dream that warmed him to the core.
Toka instinctively covered her mouth with her hand.
She could more or less guess what he was dreaming about. The thought made her eyes tremble violently.
For a while now, she'd been putting distance between herself and her stepbrother. Not because she didn't want to be close, but because she'd noticed unsettling changes in her own feelings toward him—changes that scared her.
She felt uneasy about them. Even though there was no blood relation, they were family now. She couldn't ignore how people would see it.
Their household, though patched together, was peaceful and happy. She didn't want to be the cause of cracks forming in that harmony.
But now, discovering that Senya's feelings toward her were just as strong—going far beyond the bond of siblings—shook her even more.
He wanted to be more than step-siblings. He wanted to be real family with her—closer, deeper, unshakable.
That smile on his sleeping face said it all. He was genuinely satisfied with the dream-version of their relationship.
What should she do?
Toka dug her nails into her thigh, trying to anchor herself with the pain, hoping it would calm the wild storm of emotions inside her.
There was no denying it now. It wasn't just her harboring these feelings. He did too.
And what's more… in his dreams, he'd already carried it far into the future.
"No, no, no…"
She shook her head hard, muttering aloud in protest, desperate to reject her own thoughts.
Realizing her slip, she quickly glanced at Senya.
Thankfully, he didn't stir. Maybe it was the fever medicine, maybe just his exhaustion, but his sleep remained deep and undisturbed.
Toka let out a small sigh of relief.
Still, her heart was far too restless. She couldn't stay here any longer.
Carefully, she slid off the bed, tucked the blanket up around him, and slipped out of the room without making a sound.
The dim bedroom fell silent—until Senya suddenly opened his eyes.
Not that he'd been asleep anyway. With Toka so close, there was no way he could have actually rested.
"'No'…?"
He whispered the word she'd blurted out, rolling it over thoughtfully.
What did she mean by that?
Hadn't his so-called "dream talk," which was actually a confession in disguise, gotten the point across clearly enough?
But if he'd gone into any more detail, it would've lost credibility as dream talk. She might have seen through it.
Senya sat up and activated his "God's Perspective."
Lately, he'd found it ridiculously useful.
From above, he saw Toka head not back to her own room, but to Rikka's.
Rikka was sound asleep, but little Chiyo was awake, babbling softly in her cradle, playing with her fingers.
Toka hurried downstairs, mixed formula, and came back to cradle Chiyo, feeding her patiently.
Watching her, Senya felt something stir inside him. She really would make a wonderful mother someday.
Once Chiyo was full and fast asleep again, Toka didn't return to her room. She tucked Rikka in more securely, then leaned against the headboard herself—just as she'd done in Senya's room earlier.
But here, with her little sister, she was more at ease. She even pulled Rikka's blanket over herself without hesitation.
Clearly, she wasn't planning on sleeping properly tonight—just resting lightly at best.
Even so, she intended to check in on Senya again later.
And besides… those words he'd murmured in his dream still echoed in her ears.
"Ugh…"
Now that both sisters were soundly asleep, Toka pressed her palm to her forehead, letting her embarrassment finally spill out in a whisper.
Staring at the ceiling, her heart tangled in a storm, sleep was the last thing on her mind.
And she wasn't alone in that.
Senya, too, remained wide awake.
He studied her reaction quietly from his God's-eye view, thinking.
He had planned his approach to breaking the ice with Toka carefully. Drop hints. Let her "accidentally" catch signs of his affection. See how she responded.
And her reaction tonight? More than encouraging.
Her blush spoke volumes. There was no rejection, no fear—only confusion, hesitation, maybe even a buried acceptance she didn't dare admit.
If anything, it was clear she'd already realized the truth, but kept pushing it down.
Either way, the outcome thrilled him.
Love was a battlefield, after all, and battlefields change in an instant.
Her reactions were too cute, too stirring. He wanted to be close to her again, to feel her warmth right beside him.
So why stop now? Tonight's results gave him enough confidence to take things further.
Whether she was unsure or simply forcing herself not to believe, he would turn that doubt into certainty.
He wanted her to know plainly: he liked her. He wanted to be with her. Not just as companions under one roof, but as a family who built a future—and children—together.
What would her face look like when she realized it for real? He could hardly wait.
This wasn't reckless. It wasn't a desperate all-or-nothing confession.
It was simply letting his feelings be "discovered," like the dream talk tonight.
As long as he left himself room to retreat, there was nothing to fear.
All that mattered was watching Toka's reactions, step by step.
Lying back down, he closed his eyes just as Toka slipped back into his room.
Silently, carefully, she laid her hand against his forehead again.
Through his God's-eye view, he saw her sigh in relief.
She really was worried sick about him.
For a moment, guilt pricked him.
She'd spend the whole night anxious because of his little scheme.
But then he thought back to all those nights he'd lost sleep because of her—sneaking off to the bathroom, worn out in both body and spirit.
Yes, his body was strong. Yes, he could endure it. But it had still been draining.
So, if tonight she lost some sleep because of him, didn't that make them even?
After all, no one in the world would ever love Toka more than he did. No one else could ever match her to him.
No, there was nothing wrong with this.
A small deception for the sake of a happier future—that was all.
Toka lingered by his side for a long while, ten full minutes, freely admiring his pale, weakened face as if it were something more real than usual.
That night, the youngest—Rikka and Chiyo—slept soundly.
Senya lay with his eyes shut, plotting his next move, pretending to sleep soundly.
And Toka, tangled in her emotions, barely closed her eyes at all.
———
Saturday morning, a little after eight, Rikka gently shook Toka's shoulder.
"Come on, sis, wake up. Eat breakfast before you go back to sleep."
Toka rubbed her forehead, dazed, until the memories of last night came rushing back. She bolted upright.
She'd been checking on Senya over and over, and sometime after returning to Rikka's room, exhaustion finally overcame her. She'd only meant to doze a bit against the headboard—but ended up falling asleep properly.
"Where's Chiyo?"
"Downstairs."
"Alone?"
"Nope, Senya's with her. He's cooking too."
"What? He's still sick—how could you let him cook? You should've woken me!"
"I told him the same thing, but he insisted he was fine…" Rikka pouted helplessly.
Toka didn't waste another word. She leapt from bed, hair a mess, and rushed straight downstairs.
"Morning, Toka," Senya called from the kitchen, turning toward her with a smile.
He looked better than yesterday, though his voice was noticeably hoarser.
She hurried over. "How are you feeling now?"
"Much better. My head doesn't hurt anymore. Thanks to you. You really saved me last night."
"Alright, that's enough. From here on, I'll take care of it. You just rest."
Before he could protest, she snatched the spatula from his hand, stripped the apron off him, and pushed him toward the sofa.
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"No excuses. Be good."
Then she ordered Rikka to fetch the thermometer.
Even if he claimed he was fine, she wanted proof.
With practiced hands, she finished up the breakfast and soon had it on the table.
When the thermometer beeped, she snatched it from him—36.5°C. Normal. She finally breathed out.
"Told you I'm fine."
"You're only just recovering! Listen to your voice—it's not normal at all. You're staying home to rest, got it? Now eat. I'll wash up after."
"Uh… actually, Toka, I need to head out for a bit."
She froze mid-step, staring at him sharply.
"Work again?"
Senya gave a sheepish smile.
"You just got over a fever, and you're already thinking of work? What if you relapse?"
"It won't happen. My body's not that weak. And if I cancel, it'll mess up everyone else's schedule. I'd just be making trouble for people."
Toka bit her lip. She couldn't argue with that.
But her expression said it all—she wasn't happy.
"…Do as you like."
Her voice was soft, but her displeasure was clear as she turned away toward the bathroom.
Rikka tugged on Senya's sleeve, whispering, "She's mad. I know that look—I've made her mad enough times. This is red-level… no, deep crimson-level angry. Senya, can't you just skip today? Ever since your novel got that award, you've barely been home. Take this chance to rest. If you feel bad, I'll even apologize to the staff for you."
Her words made Senya smile warmly. He patted her head.
"It's not about apologies. It's about keeping promises. I'll handle Toka later. In the meantime, help me smooth things over, okay?"
"…Fine." Rikka sighed, nodding. Then added cheekily, "But Senya… your voice sounds awful. Like a duck being strangled."
"…That's because I'm still recovering," he replied.
And because he had to keep up the act.
The maid's [Voice Change] skill came in handy here. Raising it to level two during their last outing together had been worth it.
After breakfast, even though she was clearly upset, Toka still saw him off at the door, nagging him to call if he felt even slightly unwell.
Senya nodded to each reminder.
Then, after saying goodbye to the three sisters, he stepped outside.
He wasn't heading to work.
But he did have something to prepare.
Toka's reactions last night had been too valuable to waste.
He needed to strike while the iron was hot.
At the stationery shop, he bought a pen and a small notebook.
Then he found a quiet internet café, booked a private booth, and sat down.
Sliding the keyboard aside, he opened the notebook.
His memory stirred.
And there, he began writing—an "unrequited love confession diary," crafted for Toka alone.
...…..