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“I’m home!” Karma exclaimed as he closed the heavy entrance door, not as loudly as he would have an year prior, out of fear he would wake either of the members of his family up. He let out a small, resigned sigh when no one answered and took his shoes off reluctantly.
He missed the days when Manami’s cheerful voice would welcome him back, but he knew those times would arrive once again, if only he was patient. Mio was eight months old already and he already blabbered in his baby language. He should start talking soon, and then he’d also welcome his dad home.
Karma dropped down his bag in the living room and loosened his tie. Ever since Mio’s birth, he had moved his headquarters in this limited space, where all of his documents were piled around the table and on the shelves, next to the TV and sometimes on it. It was quite cramped, considering it was Manami’s study, too, and that the map of Japan he used as a strategizing plan occupied almost the whole coffee table. They’d need to move soon, now with their child learning how to walk and having easier access to all these materials.
Karma tip-toed into their bedroom, wanting to change into more casual clothes quietly and to then return to his study without bothering a soul. However, the corners of his eyes picked up a movement as he unbuttoned his shirt, and he turned around to confirm it:
His wife was sleeping peacefully, obviously passed out from exhaustion, as the glasses resting atop of her nose and the absence of a blanket to cover her could prove. Next to her, though, a small, red-headed child was attempting to sit up properly, using his mother’s arm as a help. She turned slightly and mumbled something, dragging her hand over her chest in her sleep. Having lost his only place to lean on, the child felt back on the covers. For a moment, Karma feared he would start crying and made a step closer to him, only to see Mio stubbornly frown at the hand and lean on it again to get up.
Only when Karma couldn’t stifle a giggle did Mio finally notice him. The baby looked up at him with stubborn, purple orbits, letting his father know that he was determined to achieve his goal. Maybe Manami was right after all: he did take a bit after Karma.
After having pulled his sweater on and having changed into more comfortable pants, Karma approached his son, who had not yet fulfilled his wish of managing to stand on the soft mattress that wavered under his nimble feet. He picked him up from behind, turning Mio to face him. His son looked pissed, matching his annoyance with sways of his legs that threatened to hit Karma heavily in his chest.
Trying to avoid a loud cry that would certainly wake Manami up, the father dragged Mio out of the room and closed the door behind them. Just as he had anticipated, the child starting screaming as soon as they left the chamber, his face matching the shade of his hair.
“Shh.” Karma patted his back, securing Mio’s position into his arms and rocking him up and down. “Come on, buddy, you don’t have to get so angry at me!” He defended himself when Mio’s cries didn’t cease. On the contrary: they seemed to have amplified.
“Look, you can try down here.” He kneeled to let his son on the floor, but he yelled at the simple sight of it and hid his face in his dad’s sweater. At least that muffled the sound. Frankly, Karma wasn’t sure his ears could take this any longer.
He sat down on the couch, rocking his son in his arms and whispering: “shhh” and “it’s alright” in his ear. Only when the child removed his head from the crook of Karma’s now-damp neck, the cries already quieter, did he notice that they were sitting on the couch and stopped crying altogether. He made an attempt to sit on the couch and frowned at his father to let him go.
Karma watched curiously as his son settled on the sofa and then used his knee as a pivot point to sit up.
“Really? Is that all you wanted?” The man sighed as he watched the happiness on Mio’s face when he finally managed to stand, both hands pushing on his dad’s thighs. He looked up at the adult, excitement written all over his face and a giggle escaping his mouth.
In the back of Karmațs min, Manami’s voice explained how children had much faster mood swings because of the limited synapses their neurons created. Even so, Karma still wondered at how quickly they got over their anger or sadness, if only given the right toy.
Despite himself, the father couldn’t help but smile back. “You did it!” he praised the baby, who somehow understood he was being appreciated. Slowly, he raised a hand from his pivot point, and then the other. For a second, he actually managed to stand alone, but he landed with a loud “thud!” on the couch only seconds later.
Karma scooped him protectively into his arms, expecting the child to cry again. Instead, Mio laughed and resumed his experiment, now attempting to stand without needing something to lean on. Unpredictable as usual.
‘He takes more after Manami than she thinks.’ Karma realised, fishing for his laptop in the bag and opening it to check the latest news while Mio kept going on with his trials like a real scientist.
“Ooh!” the child suddenly exclaimed. Karma whipped his head around in time to see his son victoriously raising his arms above him, a gesture that cost him his equilibrium and he fell yet again. Karma chuckled, offering him a helping hand. The child readily accepted it.
“You really are something else.” the man admitted, feeling his son’s small fist curl around his much bigger hand. As he got up, the child murmured something. “What was that?” Karma asked gently, nearing his ears to his mouth.
“Da,” the kid spoke slowly, “dia."
Karma’s eyes widened as the child repeated, this time linking the syllables: “dadia. Dadia!” he beamed as he spoke the words.
Karma kept staring as he repeated it a few times, each time prouder of himself. Eventually, he spoke: “That’s right. I’m your dad.”
It was strange how realisation suddenly dawned on him. Of course he was his father, but to have his own child call him that… it was special, to say the least. He felt his heart getting bigger, and unless he knew it was physically impossible, he would have described the feeling as his chest being too small to contain his joy.
“Dadia!” the kid repeated, encouraged by his father’s excited nods. His word was followed by a laugh. Oh, how Karma loved the sound of his laughter! It wasn’t like an adult’s one: it was genuine, and it came out like a cough or like he choked on it. It came with exposing the place where his teeth should have been and with a wheezed breath.
Unable to keep his delight to himself anymore, Karma caught Mio in his arms and placed a kiss on the kid’s forehead. His nose wrinkled with the laughter the adult loved so much, and his lips moved onto the tip of his nose to kiss him again.
He loved how each of his affectionate gestures woke up happiness in the baby, and how he kept repeating “Dadia!” over and over again. That made him continue with his “pecking-attack” to his cheeks. He noticed how his breath tickled Mio’s face and he laughed even harder, his chortles music to Karma’s ears.
Karma felt his son’s tiny fingers curl around his read hair, tugging at his “work” style. He let his forehead rest against the child’s, his breath still amusing the little one.
“You know, I really love you.” Karma admitted, holding Mio’s gaze. “Your mother, too. You are both amazing.” He felt his heart growing even bigger with this confession, a feeling of ease and comfort enveloping him as he hugged Mio.
Besides him, the screen of the laptop went black and lifeless.
Manami looked at the two from the doorframe, where the shadows still hid her. She had been up ever since she had heard her child cry, but decided it would be better to let Karma handle it. It was endearing to watch her husband and her son: she had known he would be great at dealing with a boy! The confession she had overheard still made a smile tug at the corners of her lips.
She passed by the living room door without attracting attention and moved towards the kitchen to fix dinner for her and Karma.