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Kyojuro held the little bundle in his arms and rocked it gently, humming a song he remembered his mother used to sing. In a nearby chair, Akaza was curled up not really sleeping, as demons didn’t sleep. He was just snoozing. He was not tired at all from having to look after the child while Kyojuro himself slept and recovered from the very difficult birth.
He couldn’t stop looking at the little baby. Her cute little scrunched face while she slept looked like Akaza’s, and she had a few tufts of dark pink hair that splashed around the blonde ones. She was perfect and Kyojuro would kill for her and die for her as many times as necessary and protect her no matter what.
Having her in his arms made him a little restless so he stood from the bed and paced around the room a little. The baby’s little frown softened and she continued sleeping peacefully. He wasn’t even thinking about what they’d do now. There was no way they could show up at the Rengoku estate, not with everything that happened when Kyojuro told his father of everything, not when his father did not understand or care for his very alive son and preferred to mourn the death of a daughter he never really had. Not when he didn't even want to say his name, instead choosing to use a name Kyojuro never wanted to have. They’d have to figure something out, but that was a thought for another day.
Today he wanted to continue looking at his daughter. Whatever happened, he’d shelter her, he’d be better, he wouldn’t judge her if eventually she didn’t want to be who she was right now. For now, she was their Yukiko, if she wanted to have another name in the future, he would be there to help every step of the way.
He felt arms around his waist and a chin resting on his shoulder. He didn’t even realize when Akaza had moved from the chair to hold him from behind.
“You scared me!” He turned slightly, receiving a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Wasn’t sleeping.” He mumbled, chin still on his shoulder. “You were pacing, I thought you were worried about something.”
“I was! It’s just… I don’t think it’s worth it to think about it right now. I’ll just enjoy looking at our baby for a little longer.”
“Kocho-san said we could stay for as long as we needed.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be burden to her and the other girls. And we should think about where we’re going next.”
“Let me worry about that. You should only worry about our little snowflake.” Akaza looked down at the sleeping baby and smiled. “You were humming something.”
“It’s a song my mother used to sing for me and for Senjuro. I’m not as good at singing as her, so maybe she didn’t like it, she was making angry faces in her sleep. She kind of looked like you.”
“She’s prettier.”
Akaza buried his nose on the crook of Kyojuro’s neck and held him tightly, they both swayed in the middle of the room. The rest of the Butterfly manor slept, but they couldn’t, not when they had Yukiko to look after. They’d be her guards, her heroes, her laughter and her songs, and heal their own hearts while healing hers. But later, right now, they just wanted to stay like this, fleeting as it may be.