"With all that noise, you're not worried about waking Lucianne?" Stella came over and asked softly.
White Ghost glanced up at the sky. It was already afternoon.
"A bit less sleep won't hurt," he said. "Her mind just came back—she's been drifting in a haze for years. That's worn down both her body and spirit.
"It's better if she eats something and moves around a bit before resting again. Recovering's easier that way."
The little squirrel mink nodded.
"Right. It's best if she eats, walks a little, then lies down. That'll be much better for her body… Uh, Pedro, want me to patch you up?"
Seeing him climb out of the crater with blood still at the corner of his mouth, she hurried over.
Pedro waved his paw.
"Cough… I'm alright. With a Zoan's recovery and mink healing on top of that, I'll be fine. Just need to catch my breath."
White Ghost caught the envy in Hiyori's eyes.
"You can't eat one yet," he told her. "Your body's not ready. Build your foundation first. After some more training, I'll give you one that suits you."
"Eh—me?" Hiyori stared at him, stunned.
Put politely, she was the Kozuki family's hidden sprout. Less politely, she was the "spare" her grandfather had tucked away in case everything went wrong.
White Ghost simply smiled and ruffled her hair.
Thanks to training and regular meals, the little girl had filled out a bit, cheeks nicely rounded, eyes bright.
Her face reddened. She lowered her head but didn't dodge, letting him mess up her hair as he pleased.
Stella watched the scene with a small, knowing smile. As long as White-bro's heart still had room for her, she didn't mind the others.
Ain just smiled as well, saying nothing.
"Alright," White Ghost said, clapping his hands, "I'll trouble you ladies for dinner. She should be awake upstairs by now."
"Got it."
"I'll go prep her medicine soup," the squirrel mink said, tail twitching as she hopped toward the kitchen.
Upstairs, in the room that used to belong to Uta and Hiyori, Lucianne slowly opened her eyes.
It felt like she'd been trapped in a long, heavy dream.
In the dream, she'd learned that her husband wasn't a bank clerk.
He'd lied.
He was the thing she hated most—
A pirate. A cruel, blood-stained pirate.
She hadn't known at first.
Then one night, their child burned with a terrible fever.
Señor wasn't home.
She had carried the baby to the doctor herself. He'd simply prescribed some common medicine, saying it wasn't serious.
The child took the pills, fell asleep… but the fever wouldn't break.
Lucianne was terrified.
Her husband still didn't come home.
She stayed awake the whole night, clutching the baby and praying dawn would come faster so she could take the child to the bank to find Señor.
But fate can be vicious.
In the deep of the night, the baby went quiet.
Completely quiet.
Lucianne felt her world end.
She didn't dare face her husband. She blamed herself for not protecting their child. For not noticing sooner. For not doing more.
After spending half the night drowning in guilt, she finally forced herself up. She would tell Señor. However much it hurt, she couldn't hide this from him.
She went to the bank.
And learned there was no "Señor Pink" there.
No such clerk. No such employee.
She asked again. And again. The answer never changed.
At that moment, the last piece of her sky collapsed.
She remembered all the times he'd left for "work" and stayed away for days. All the times he'd come home with a faint scent of blood.
She'd ignored it back then.
Now… she understood.
The child was gone. Her husband had lied. The man she loved was not the simple clerk she'd believed in, but a pirate she'd always despised.
Lucianne's world turned to ash.
When Señor finally came back and she confronted him, he could not answer.
He could only stay silent.
That silence told her everything.
She ran out into the storm, unable to bear it all—
And the accident came.
After that… there had only been muddled shadows, a half-broken awareness.
Even deep in that hospital haze, she'd dimly sensed some things.
The man who lied to her came to see her every day. Day after day. Year after year.
She'd wanted to drive him away, but her body wouldn't obey.
Until one day he started coming in baby clothes—
Their child's clothes.
He looked utterly ridiculous.
She remembered laughing despite herself.
He had cried then. Cried long and hard.
From that day on, he came dressed like that, no matter how people stared or jeered.
He grew fatter with time, but he still squeezed into the same outfit, the same bonnet, the same pacifier.
Every day, without fail.
Lucianne had wanted to tell him she forgave him.
To tell him not to torment himself like this.
But the words never made it out of her throat.
And then… today.
The fog lifted.
The dream ended.
She opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was that same ridiculous baby outfit, that same man—sunglasses and pacifier and all—kneeling at her bedside.
"…Señor," she whispered, voice weak.
"I'm here, Lucianne," Señor Pink said, dropping fully to one knee. He reached for her hand and gently pressed it against his cheek. "I'm right here."
Lucianne's fingers trembled. She gave his face a light slap.
"I forgive you," she said. "But you're not allowed to be a pirate anymore. I lost my child already. I don't want to lose my husband too."
"…Alright."
His voice cracked.
"Lucianne… I'm not a pirate anymore. I've already quit. I swear."
Tears slid down his face, leaving wet trails beneath the sunglasses.
She smiled.
"Good…"
Her smile was bright, tired, and utterly content.
Señor finally broke.
He clung to the bedside and bawled—
Not from shame this time, but from relief so sharp it hurt.
Downstairs, everyone heard the man's ragged sobs.
"Take the medicine soup up, Squirrel," White Ghost said quietly.
"On it, White-bro," the little mink answered with a sunny smile. She lifted the tray carefully and bounded upstairs.
She knocked lightly.
"Excuse me, I'm coming in."
She pushed the door open without waiting and peeked inside.
"Lucianne, I brought something warm for you."
"Thank you," Lucianne said. "I can—"
Señor started to get up, but the mink shot him a look.
"You big men are all clumsy with your hands," she scolded lightly. "Leave the delicate work to someone who won't spill it all over the sheets."
She eased Lucianne up, letting the woman lean against her.
Then she opened the porcelain jar. A rich, savory fragrance filled the room.
Lucianne's stomach growled quietly. Her cheeks flushed. It felt like ages since she'd properly tasted food.
"Let's start with the broth," the squirrel mink said. "Warm your stomach first. You've gone too long without eating—no stuffing yourself all at once."
"Thank you," Lucianne said, taking small sips from the spoon the mink held to her lips.
When she was about half full, the mink stopped.
"That's enough for now. Your body's not ready for a full meal. Eat a little, rest a little, walk a little. Then we can do a second round."
Lucianne nodded.
"Thank you," she repeated. "For taking care of me."
She studied the little mink curiously. A squirrel, walking and talking like a human… and yet somehow, it all felt natural.
Noticing the look, the mink smiled.
"I'm Dor Squirrelton—just call me 'Squirrel'," she said. "I'm from the Mokomo Dukedom, a Mink Tribe squirrel. Aside from the fur and tail, we're not so different from humans."
Then she leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice.
"Though, between us… a lot of minks think humans are just hairless monkeys."
Lucianne couldn't help it—she laughed.
Señor dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
For the first time in years…
They felt like husband and wife again.
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