The Yakuza's flower

My baby

Ume's pov

Weeks went by and I haven't seen or heard from Rey since the funeral.

I was doing so many things alone....

Fixing the house Rey destroyed
Mothering a new born that wasn't mine.
Still Handling paperwork and legal documents.

It was tough but I pushed through as best as I could.

One night I woke up because I heard a loud noise downstairs .

I quickly ran downstairs with a bat in my hand.

It was Rey, he looked at me.

"Rey" I called his name

"You're still here...Thanks for cleaning up..." he said as he reached for a picture of him and Maribel that was hanging on the wall.

"No problem..." I said to him as I got closer.

We looked at each other for a moment before

I pulled him into a strong hug.

At first he was fighting it but eventually stopped pulling away.

He was tense but eventually relaxed.

"It's okay.. hermano (brother) it's okay to cry." I told him and he hugged me back. We stay like this for a good moment until He finally pulled away from me, his eyes glassy but dry. I could see it in his face—he wanted to cry, needed to, but something in him just wouldn't let go. Like if he did, he'd never stop.

Rey looked around the room, taking in everything. The cleaned floors, the repaired furniture, the quiet hum of a home trying to heal. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, tired, ragged, a man unraveling slowly.

"I have something for you." He said as he grabbed folded papers from his pocket

"He's yours" he said to me as I look at the papers.

They were guardianship papers and adoption documents. I looked at Rey

"I think you should leave... leave with him. Go back to Japan." he said to me

I stared at the papers in my hands, my chest tightening. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until I finally let it out, shaky and sharp.

"Rey..." I whispered, my fingers trembling over the edges of the forms.

"He deserves someone who actually wants him," Rey said. His voice was hollow again, drained of everything except the grief still poisoning him from the inside out. "You already love him. You've been there. Not me."

My heart cracked, splintered under the weight of his words. I looked at him—at the brother I grew up with, who used to be so full of fire and stubbornness and love. He was barely standing now, like his soul had gone somewhere far away and only this shell was left behind.

"You're his father," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "She wanted you. Not me. You think just signing a piece of paper makes it okay to walk away?"

Rey didn't respond. He wouldn't look at me.

"I get it," I whispered, stepping closer. "You're hurting. You lost her. You think pushing him away makes it easier. But it doesn't. You'll regret this. Every single day."

He looked up, eyes glassy. "I already regret everything."

I felt something deep in my chest cave in. Still, I held the papers tight against my chest like they might burn through me.

"You don't have to do this alone," I said.

He laughed under his breath—bitter, tired. "That's the difference between you and me, Ume.... You can do it alone. You're stronger than me. You always have been."

I shook my head slowly. "That's not true."

"Flor...I think you should leave," he repeated, but this time his voice was cold.

I stood there for another long moment, waiting—hoping he'd change his mind. That he'd reach for something, anything, before it was too late.

But he didn't.
He just left again

———

The papers sat on the kitchen table for hours after Rey left.

I stared at them like they might change, like maybe if I cried hard enough, rewrote enough of this pain in my head, they'd say something else.

But they didn't.

They said he's yours in cold, clean ink.
They said you're doing this alone.

So I did.

I fed Prince, changed him, held him when he cried through the nights. I rocked him on the couch when I was too tired to move, humming lullabies. I took him to check-ups, filled out forms, made bottle after bottle while running on caffeine and grief.

He smiled for the first time during one of those endless nights—just a little curve of his lips in his sleep

And I whispered, "my baby, my baby, you're my baby."

⸻

Weeks passed. The silence in the house was louder than any noise. There was no Maribel, no Rey. Just me and this tiny boy who needed everything I could give.

But I was tired.
Not the kind of tired sleep could fix.

I kept thinking about Japan. About home. The tatami floors. My grandmother's gentle scolding. The quiet streets and the scent of plum blossoms on certain days.

I needed to go back

So while Prince napped in his little basket by the window, I picked up my phone and dialed her number.

"Hello?" She answered softly.

"Hola grandma."

"Ume?!" She said my name happily. "It's been so long."

"I know. I... I've been through a lot."

"Are you alright!?"

I hesitated. "I will be. I'm just... I'm just ready to come home."

A pause "Ume, You know you're always welcome here. When will you come?" She asked

"I'll figure out the flight soon," I said quietly. "I just... wanted you to know."

"Alright, my little flower . Come home when you're ready. I'll be waiting."

I hung up before I said too much.
Before the weight in my chest spilled over.

I didn't mention the baby.
Not yet.
I didn't know how to.
Didn't know what she'd say, or what kind of life we'd be walking into.

But I knew I had to go.
Not to run.... I'm not running anymore.
But to start again.
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