Naoto Kisaragi's POV:

The happiness she gave me was a gift I'd treasure forever.

"You don't smile much, do you?"

It started with those words—on the day I found her huddled between trash cans, tears streaking her cheeks from a recent breakup. It was completely out of pocket. I'd stepped outside of the sushi shop I was working part-time at at the time and had heard whimpers muffled by the torrential rainfall. The small voice in my head tried to convince me it was another stray that had wandered into the alleyway but my curiosity had won. And there she was, the prettiest girl I'd ever laid eyes on—all dolled up, mascara running, and shivering in the cold.

I said the first thing that came to mind, stupid as it sounded: "You're the one not smiling."

"What are you talking about? There's no way I wouldn't smile because my jerk of a boyfriend stood me up then dumped me through text. I'm overjoyed, believe me. See?"

She taped up her wobbling lips for emphasis between fits of snivels. It was the saddest excuse of a 'grin,' if I had anything to say about it, but it was clear she was doing it to cheer herself up. My sympathy was the last thing she needed at this moment. She didn't need consoling or somebody to get angry on her behalf. That much was clear.

Her college boyfriend had invited her to the cafe across the street for a date, and she waited and waited for him to show up. When the sun had set, she finally received a message: him signalling the end of their relationship. How she'd ended up at this back alley was a mystery, but I wagered she was crying so hard she hardly paid attention to her surroundings and lost track of the time.

I invited her inside the shop. Since my boss had left me in charge of closing up, it was empty, but a far better alternative than continuing our conversation out in the storm.

"I can't believe I spent all weekend getting ready. Spent a fortune on this outfit and earrings. Even put off eating so I could fit into this dress." She'd joined me in the kitchen after freshening herself up in the washroom. She balled her fists tight enough to cut off her circulation. "When the rain lets up, I'm going over to his apartment to murder him in his sleep. Can I borrow this kitchen knife?"

She'd snagged the biggest dagger in the kitchen.

I recoiled.

"Hey!"

"I'll return it. Won't even know I did the deed."

"You—"

"Sachiko."

When I finally snagged it back from her tiny hands and repositioned my glasses that had fallen down my nose, I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Huh?"

"Not "hey" or "you." Sachiko." Her wholehearted belly laugh brought a sparkle to her baby blue eyes. "Now that you've met me you'll have amazing luck. Not to toot my own horn or anything but everyone who meets me never fails to tell me that. Even that ex who shall not be named."

It was a play of the meaning of her name, obviously, but it left me at a loss in spite of that.

"What's got you so sour?" Sachiko added petulantly. "Haven't you heard that smiling is the first step to happiness? Regardless of if you're having the crummiest day, by forcing yourself to wear one, it'll raise your spirits."

I discarded the knife on the counter and manoeuvred to the opposite end of the room. "Clearly, you're all right, so I'll give you my umbrella so you can go home."

Fluttering her lengthy eyelashes, she knocked her head back up at me. "But. . ."

"I have to close up and head home. Run off to your parents if you want to complain."

"Can't. They're dead."

She uttered it so calmly, and without missing a beat, I forgot how to breathe. Her gaze locked with mine for the second time, her mouth quirked upwards. Even without explanation, the air chilled and poked my skin. She didn't need consoling or pity, that much was clear.

Child of bliss. Great fortune. Happiness.

The meanings of her name were a very contradiction.

When the usual things were gone, when you lost the people closest to you, you were faced with your weaknesses. I certainly was. Sachiko was the opposite. She embraced her frailty as strength.

"I've overstayed my welcome." With a wave, she twirled on her heels. "Thanks for today, sushi boy. See you later."

Her shoulder-length brown hair whirled after her. She left as quickly as she'd arrived, disappeared from my ray of sight even sooner than that, and my heart sunk to an unexpected low in my chest. I dropped my attention to the counter.

"Bring back the knife!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, seconds from the exit. Huffing, she clicked her tongue. I yanked the hilt of the dagger the moment she offered it, puffing all the same.

However, the chuckle that spilled out of me wasn't planned. Straightaway, I played it off by pursing my lips. But she'd heard it.

"Wow," she cooed, beaming. "Got you to smile."

My skin warmed considerably. "You did not."

"You should do it more often. It's charming, on a relatively speaking scale."

"If you won't leave, I'll kindly ask for my umbrella back."

"So I can go out there and put myself at risk for hypothermia? Being mugged?"

"With that annoying personality, you should be fine."

"Rude! I'm taking back my compliment, jerk!"

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Supposedly, she was taking writing courses at a nearby college. But with how often she stopped by, I had to wonder if she was taking them seriously. At first, she'd order food and sit around for hours, excusing she couldn't be bothered to go all the way home because of her deadlines. Her terrible lies convinced nobody, but I played along. Pretended her coming to see me didn't fill me with delight. I had an inkling she didn't like sushi all that much but that didn't stop her from finding elaborate ways to get my attention and taste-test everything I recommended. In return, she had me sit through her favourite horror movies. She mocked me for being a wimp. Whenever she had to dispose of insects I was too afraid to approach or whenever she'd drag me around on spontaneous, childlike outings, she'd revoke my 'man' status. By then, I was deeply in love with her, so I went along with any and all of her outlandish requests.

Ever since my mother had unexpectedly passed away in high school and my dad skipped town, I had a difficult time opening up to others again, but Sachiko made it effortless. We were wandering through life alone but suddenly, we had each other.

Eventually, I'd started smiling more. Most days, I laughed so hard I cried. Because I met the person I wanted to be with. Because with her, I found more and more things I wanted to protect.

I asked her out before I could provide my brain a chance to come to terms with my emotions. Proposed, palms soaked in sweat, heart stuttering against my ribcage, lungs pleading for air. Exchanged our vows. Married young.

"Pa!"

"Did you get it on video? Did you?"

"Doesn't count, doesn't count! It's supposed to be "ma-ma." Come on, Shiina. Again, for mommy."

Propped on her bum, our infant daughter gazed up at us with big eyes. Giggling, she clapped her miniature hands and repeated her first words.

"Pa—pa!"

Heart melting, I lifted and cradled her in my arms. "Aw, my precious little girl."

On her hands and knees, Sachiko ended the recording and tossed the camera.

"Not fair," she whined. "I'm supposed to be her first words! The audacity!"

Oblivious to her surroundings, Shiina giddily squished my nose with her fingers.

"Listen, you," Sachiko reprimanded her. "I brought you into this world and I can take you right out. Ugh, but you're too cute."

"P. . . apa! Pa—pa!"

The positive reinforcement we'd previously given had gotten to Shiina's head, as that was all she'd echo. Over and over, like in an abandoned cave. She clung to my chest in a hug. Sachiko puffed her cheeks from the sidelines.

"I met Naoto first."

I peeked at her and snorted. "Are you seriously sulking right now?"

She wormed her way under my other arm and pouted. "Our next child better favour me as they should. Otherwise, I'll leave you to raise them on your own."

"You're already watching horror movies with Shiina. Arguably, I'd be better off for her mental and social well-being and development."

"I'm teaching her early. We'll get into the habit of having marathons every weekend. Then, when she grows up, she'll pass it on to her kids. If not, I'll gratefully step in and do it for her."

"This is why she prefers me."

Her side-eye intensified.

"Your questionable parenting aside," I continued, "your her mother. She loves you and will love you more than she'll ever love me."

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"You'll stay in love with me, right? Even when we get older and the wrinkles and grey hairs come, you'll continue to spoil me, right? You'll never get tired of me, will you?"

It was a redundant and rhetorical question, yet mirrored the insecurities in my own heart.

The corners of my lips gently upturned. I caressed the top of her head and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"You'll forever have me, Sachi. Until the end of time—always—I'll love you."

"As you should."

"Pa-pa," Shiina prodded.

I squeezed her tighter. "Sorry, my baby girl. You and your future sibling are an extremely close second, I promise."