Mary smiled at Hikari as she was wheeled into the labor room. She gripped his hand, her voice soft but full of warmth. "I'll see you soon, love. Don't worry," she said, her eyes glistening with hope. Hikari smiled back, though his heart raced with worry. He had never been this scared, not even when they first discovered the truth about the meteorite.
As the doors closed, Hikari stood in the hallway, pacing back and forth. The walls seemed to close in on him with every minute that passed. Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl, and all he could do was wait. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to shake the fear building in his chest.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, the doors opened. The doctor stepped out, his face grim. Hikari's heart sank.
"Mr. Hikari... I'm sorry," the doctor said, lowering his gaze. "Your wife didn't make it."
Hikari froze. The world around him blurred as the words hit him like a hammer to the chest. "What...?" he managed to whisper, his voice breaking.
"She... she lost too much blood. We did everything we could," the doctor explained, his voice distant as if coming from far away. "But the babies survived. Twins. Two healthy boys."
Hikari's legs felt weak as he stumbled back against the wall. The weight of the news crushed him. Mary, the love of his life, the woman he had shared so many dreams with, was gone. His breath caught in his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes.
He wanted to scream, to shout, to ask why this had to happen. Why her? They had been so close to a new life, so close to building a future for their children. And now she was gone.
But then, through the haze of his grief, he remembered something. Mary's voice echoed in his mind—the day before she went into labor. She had placed her hand gently on her belly and looked at him with that same warm smile. "Let's try our best to raise them well," she had said. It was a promise.
Hikari's chest tightened as he wiped away his tears. She had known. Somehow, deep down, she had known that she might not survive, and yet she had asked him to be strong. For them. For the children.
The doctor gently guided him into the room where the twins lay. Hikari approached them with trembling hands. The babies were so small, so fragile, but as he reached out to touch them, a flicker of light sparked between his fingers. One child had a faint, soft glow of blue, while the other seemed to pulse with a dark, electric aura.
"They have her strength," Hikari whispered to himself. He could feel it—the power coursing through their tiny bodies, the legacy of the meteorite. He knew, in that moment, that they had inherited powers far beyond his understanding. Powers that could change the world.
He knelt beside them, tears still streaming down his face, but now those tears were a mixture of sorrow and hope. "Kurata... Aoiro..." he whispered, naming them after the colors of their power. "I'll raise you. I'll make sure you live for the dream your mother and I had... to change this world. To end the suffering."
As he looked at his sons, he made a silent vow. He would be strong for them, as Mary had been. No matter the pain, no matter the loss, he would raise them to stop the evil that had taken hold of their world.
And even though Mary was gone, her spirit would live on in their children. In Kurata and Aoiro, her strength, her love, and her dreams would never die.