The silence between them was filled with quiet understanding.
But then—
A sharp knock shattered the stillness.
Lisa stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. Yatami's expression darkened, his body tensing as his sharp blue eyes flickered to the door, then back to her.
Lisa met his gaze, uncertainty flickering on her own.
Yatami gave her a subtle nod. Stay calm.
The air thickened with tension, the once-warm sunlight now casting elongated shadows across the room, distorting its familiar comfort into something more uncertain, edged with unease. The walls felt closer, the space smaller.
Yatami rose from the bed in a slow, deliberate motion, his movements fluid, controlled. His gaze swept the room, assessing, calculating. He wasn't just looking—he was preparing.
His eyes landed on the wooden bat leaning against the bookshelf.
Without hesitation, he grabbed it and returned to Lisa, pressing it into her hands.
"Take this," he whispered, his voice steady, but carrying an urgency that sent a chill down her spine.
Lisa swallowed hard, wrapping her fingers around the handle. Her knuckles turned white, but she forced herself to steady her breathing. If something was about to happen, she wouldn't just sit back and watch.
Then—
The doorknob turned. Slowly.
A faint creak filled the air, the sound slicing through the silence like nails on glass.
Yatami moved on instinct, stepping in front of Lisa, his frame shielding her completely. His hands rose slightly, fingers twitching. And then—
Crackling.
A spark flickered at his fingertips, a whisper of blue light that danced like restless spirits. Then another. The sparks grew, igniting into arcs of electricity, weaving between his fingers, growing brighter, more volatile. The air buzzed with power, an unnatural hum vibrating through the walls.
The sharp scent of ozone filled Lisa's nose.
Her breath hitched. She wasn't imagining it.
That's lightning. That's real.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stared, wide-eyed, at the raw energy pulsing from her brother's hands.
Ali's different.
She had always known—deep down—that he wasn't normal. He wasn't just fast, or strong, or impossibly perceptive. He was something else. Not just not human—but an android, built like a machine, yet carrying a heart bigger than any human she had ever known.
And yet—
He cared. Not just in the way people say they do, but in the way only a true brother would. He would fight, he would burn the world down if it meant keeping her safe.
The realization sent a shiver down her spine.
It was terrifying.
It was awe-inspiring.
It was him.
And yet, despite the surge of fear twisting inside her, a warmth blossomed in her chest—chasing the fear away.
He'd go through any length to protect me.
The door swung open.
Lisa tensed, her grip tightening around the bat. Yatami's hands burned with electric light, his body coiled like a predator ready to strike.
And then—
"Whoa, whoa! What's going on here?"
The weight of the moment lingered, thick and unspoken.
Lisa could still feel the residual tension buzzing in the air, like static before a storm. But standing in the doorway, framed by the golden glow of the hallway, was not dangerous—it was Jeremy Daizen Souta.
Her father.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding his usual air of quiet authority, he surveyed the room with sharp, perceptive eyes. His gaze flickered between Lisa, still gripping the wooden bat, and Yatami, whose fingertips pulsed with the fading remnants of crackling electricity.
For a fleeting second, silence stretched between them—taut, expectant.
Then—
"Dad!"
The bat slipped from Lisa's grasp, clattering to the floor as she rushed forward. The instant she collided with her father, she buried her face into his chest, inhaling the familiar, grounding scent of leather and cologne. Relief crashed over her like a tidal wave.
"We thought you were an intruder," she mumbled against his jacket, her voice muffled, trembling with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
Jeremy let out a deep chuckle, the rich timbre of it vibrating in his chest. His large, calloused hands ruffled her hair in that comforting, familiar way. "An intruder?" he echoed, amusement lacing his tone.
Then, his gaze drifted to Yatami. One eyebrow arched.
"With a bat and…" He gestured to the fading sparks still dancing between Yatami's fingers. "Lightning powers?"
Yatami's expression remained composed—calm as ever—but Lisa didn't miss the way his fingers curled slightly, an unconscious twitch of hesitation.
"I was merely ensuring Lily's safety," Yatami said coolly, straightening his posture. Though his voice carried its usual mechanical edge, there was a weight behind it—something heavier, more human. "Had there been a threat, I would have neutralized it before it reached her."
Jeremy studied him for a long moment, unreadable. Then, to Lisa's utter shock, his expression softened.
"You've come a long way, son."
Yatami froze.
Lisa's breath caught.
The word—son—hit Yatami like a system reboot, sending a ripple of static through the room.
Not a machine.
Not an experiment.
Not a project.
Son.
For all the years Yatami had spent by Jeremy's side—training, learning, evolving—it was the first time his creator had ever called him that. The weight of it hung in the air, tangible, rewriting something deep in Yatami's core.
Lisa saw it. The slight widening of his eyes. The minute shift in his expression—so small, yet so loud.
Jeremy smirked, clearly aware of the turmoil unfolding inside Yatami's synthetic mind. He reached out, gripping the boy's shoulder with a firm, steadying hand. "From now on, you will call me Dad, and I will call you my son."
A beat of silence.
Yatami's processors lagged—hesitation flickering across his features. His entire existence had been defined by logic, precision, efficiency. But this—this was something else entirely.
Something he had never been programmed to understand.
"…Thank you…" His voice was slow, deliberate. Then, softer—more human than Lisa had ever heard it before— "Dad."
Jeremy's expression warmed, his grip on Yatami's shoulder tightening in a reassuring squeeze. "Good to hear."
Then, as if sensing the moment was growing too heavy, he turned back to Lisa, his usual commanding presence slipping effortlessly back into place.
"Now, princess, you're coming with me."
Lisa blinked, caught off guard. "Where?"
Jeremy gave her a knowing look.
Realization struck like a lightning bolt.
"Oh no." Lisa's hands flew to her forehead. "I completely forgot! It's you and Mom's fifth anniversary today!" She groaned, guilt crashing over her like a tidal wave. "How could I forget something so important? I'm so—so stupid—"
"Sweetheart."
Jeremy's voice was warm, grounding, as he knelt before her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. His eyes, so much like her own, locked onto hers with unwavering sincerity.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not stupid. You're incredible, and your mother and I are lucky to have you."
Lisa's heart clenched. The lump in her throat melted into something softer, something lighter.
She exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Dad."
Behind them, Yatami—who had been watching silently—finally spoke.
"He's right, Lily." His voice carried that same quiet, unwavering certainty. "You shouldn't diminish yourself. You shine like a star… even in the darkest sky."
Lisa turned to him, and a mischievous giggle escaped her lips. "Why do you look so serious, big brother? You'll scare someone with that face of yours."
Yatami blinked. A flicker of confusion crossed his usually unreadable face. Then, after a moment, he sighed, shaking his head in that ever-composed, exasperated way. "If you're happy," he said, "then that's all that matters."
Jeremy chuckled, watching the two of them. Their bond was undeniable—genuine, unbreakable. It was something deeper than blood, something forged through battle, through trust, through choice.
Then, with an easy grin, Jeremy clapped his hands together. "Here's an idea," he said. "Let's go home, pick up Mom, and spend the day celebrating together. What do you say?"
Lisa's face lit up, her earlier guilt melting away like mist under the sun.
"I love that idea, Dad! Let's make it the best day ever!"
She turned to Yatami, tugging on his sleeve. "You always say you want to be with me no matter what, right?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "So, how about you come with us? You are family, after all."
Yatami hesitated, his gaze flickering toward Jeremy, as if seeking approval.
Jeremy simply nodded.
A rare smile—small, but undeniably real—touched Yatami's lips.
Then, without warning, he scooped Lisa into his arms and spun her effortlessly through the air.
She yelped, startled, before dissolving into laughter—bright, unrestrained, free. The sound filled the room, chasing away the lingering tension, wrapping it in warmth instead.
"You truly are one of a kind, Lily," Yatami murmured as he set her back down gently. Then, with quiet finality— "I'd be honored to come."
Lisa beamed, grabbing both his and her father's hands, squeezing them tightly.
"Then let's go make some memories!"