It's under the light of a crimson moon that your son is born, as the world turns into a sea of hellfire and brimstone outside.
Your baby's father returns to your side just as you're crouched on all fours and overcome by the urge to push; he brings with him the smell of sweat and soot and ash, and you've never seen him looked so panicked before as he runs into the room, with Konro and the midwife.
But he's here and he's alive, and it's all the sign you need.
Asakusa is safe.
Beni is here.
On your lips, you taste salt.
Your baby is as quiet as his father; his arrival is marked with only the barest snuffle, the quietest hiccup, impossibly high-pitched and small. There will be time enough for celebrations later, after the town has been rebuilt and has returned to its old normalcy; the people of Asakusa are all too happy to throw parties for just about any occasion, and they've been looking forward to meeting your baby too.
Your baby is all red legs and arms, hands splayed, downy dark hair and an unfurled mouth. Swaddled in a white blanket, the baby gazes up into his father's face; his eyes are shaped exactly like Beni's, right down to the unique irises, which mark him as both a Second and Third Generation.
You sit propped up on a mound of pillows in your shared futon, the sheets pooled around your waist. You're fine. A little sore, and very tired, but the midwife has checked you over thoroughly and you've been given a clean bill of health, you and the baby both.
The baby's eyes are closed, his hands in fists near his face. He squirms in his sleep, heaving in a deep breath and then letting it out. Your eyelids are growing heavy as you nestle your head into the crook of Beni's neck.
"Are you crying?"
"It's just the heat."
Your smile is a stamp against the side of his neck. "Of course."
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"In a minute."
But first –
"I love you."
A feather-light kiss to your temple.
"Love you too."
