He stared down at the small body, wrapped in blankets. Shigure still wasn’t used to the feelings that swirled through him at the mere sight of this being in Ren’s arms. As sweet as knives plunged into his breast. He fights the tears and prays that someday this tiny bundle of blankets will no longer affect him so harshly, and yet . . . and yet he never wants that feeling to leave, that magical mixture of honey and his pulsating blood. His heart does beat faster, making him dizzy, and something presses close to his chest that makes breathing difficult. That’s ok. Mental clarity, mere air is nothing compared to the baby before him. He could not go near Akito without remembering the first time he’d felt this, when he’d awoken and knew — beyond all reason knew — that God had arrived and his cheeks were sticky with tears and his eyes were red and swollen and there were knives in his chest and the taste of honey in his mouth, salty with the tears and bitter