The Yakuza's flower

The question

Ume's pov

After Hanayama took me to his grandfather's estate—

After he threw my ultrasound photos on the floor

After declaring we were getting married

After carrying me out like I was already his wife—

...I was still trying to breathe normally.

Everything felt unreal, like my body was a few steps behind my brain.

When we got back to my house...

I needed to let Prince's babysitter go home.
Luckily, Prince was already fast asleep, curled up in his crib with his little blanket.

The babysitter left after a quiet thank-you, and the door clicked shut behind her.

Silence filled the house.

A heavy, thick silence that wrapped around us.

Hanayama stood in the middle of my living room, huge and calm, his hands in his pockets.

I swallowed hard.

Then I turned to him.

"We need to talk."

I gestured toward the couch. "Sit. Please."

He didn't argue — just moved quietly and lowered himself onto the couch, the cushion sinking under his weight.

I sat beside him, turning slightly to face him.

My heart was pounding so loud.

"What happened back there?" I asked softly. "You didn't even... give me time to react."

He didn't look away.

"We're getting married." He said

"Marriage? Hanayama really? You didn't even ask me."

"you're carrying my kids," he said quietly.

I shook my head, "yeah but it's not all simple"

"Then what?"

"I'm overwhelmed," I whispered truthfully. "I'm pregnant, Kaoru. With twins. My hormones are everywhere. And today has been... a lot. Not only that but I'm not a single person. What about prince?"

"What about him?"he replied

I blinked, startled by how quickly he answered — by how sure he sounded.

"Kaoru..." I murmured, shaking my head. "He's my son too."

"Don't."
The word wasn't sharp — just firm enough to stop me.

Hanayama leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eye locked on mine with that heavy, unblinking focus that always made my chest tighten.

"He's not my blood," he said quietly,
"but that doesn't matter to me."

My breath hitched.

"He's yours. That's enough."
His jaw tightened, like the next part was instinct — not thought.

"I won't let nothin' happen to him."

The simplicity of it, the certainty, hit harder than anything. His voice didn't shake. His gaze didn't move.

As if what he said wasn't a promise.

But a fact.

I shook my head

"you still didn't ask me," I whispered through a shaky breath. "You didn't ask if I wanted to get married."

He stared at me a long moment — then, slowly, he reached for my hand.

His fingers curled around mine, gentle but unbreakable.

Something shifted in his expression — tiny, but unmistakable.

He let go of my hand only long enough to reach into his jacket pocket.

My breath froze.

When he pulled his hand back out...

...I felt my heart stop.

A ring.

Simple. Heavy. Beautiful.

The kind of ring a man like him would choose — nothing too flashy, nothing delicate either, Just strong, solid, permanent.

He held it in his palm for a moment, staring at it like he was deciding how much to say.

Then he lifted his gaze to mine.

"I got this weeks ago."
His jaw flexed once.
"Just... waitin' for the right time."

He didn't drop to one knee — that wasn't him.
He didn't give a speech — that wasn't him either.

My throat tightened.

He just got closer, the ring glinting in his massive hand, his voice rough and low.

"Im not askin' 'cause of the babies."
He held the ring out toward me, eye steady and dead serious.
"I'm askin' 'cause it's you."

"Ume," he murmured,
"marry me."

No hesitation.
No doubt.

I was literally lost for words..

when did he actually decide he wanted me... and forever. My mind was racing too much...

......

"I.... I think we should wait... please."
My voice cracked as the words left me, my eyes burning again.

"I love you," I whispered, "I love you so much. But I'm just... so overwhelmed right now."

He just stood there, ring heavy in his hand, staring at me like he was making sure he heard every single word properly.

But he didn't look angry.
He didn't look disappointed.
He didn't even look hurt.

He looked focused.
Locked onto me like I was telling him how to save my life.

Slowly — very slowly — he lowered his hand with the ring.

"Okay."

He scooted closer, closing the distance between us without touching me yet.

"You're overwhelmed," he said, repeating my words back to me like they mattered.
"You're scared."

I swallowed hard. "Yeah."

He nodded once — slow, understanding, grounded.

Then he lifted his hand and cupped the side of my face with a gentleness no one his size should be capable of.

"You aren't saying no," he murmured.
"You're saying wait. I can wait."

My throat tightened. "Thank you..." I whispered.

I sniffed once, wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and felt the exhaustion hit me all at once. The nausea, the crying, the stress — it all finally crashed over me in one heavy wave.

"I'm...very tired now," I murmured. "So can we go to bed, please?"

He didn't hesitate.

Hanayama slipped an arm under my legs and another behind my back, lifting me into his chest as he stood up.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Come on."

He carried me down the hall, his footsteps slow and steady, careful not to jostle me. My head rested against his shoulder without me thinking about it, my body sank into his warmth.

When we reached my bedroom, he set me down gently on the bed — careful.

I curled onto my side as he pulled the blankets over me, tucking them around my waist.

Then he climbed in behind me, one large arm sliding around my middle, pulling me into his chest.

The weight of him at my back — solid, warm, safe, made the last of my tension slip away.

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