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Springtime in London, while maybe not as impressive as in Japan with its pink rain, is a lovely sight nonetheless. Even on the busy streets where you wouldn't be able to tell any season without snow, the people walking along in their lighter clothes speak where greenery does not.
That is not the case in the van Zieks estate. Here, the area is lacking in people and rich with plant life. Naruhodou is filled with a strange joy while looking out the window, sharp eyes able to pick out individual flowers in a beautiful bush. He dresses in a white shirt and a nice pair of trousers, forgoing the jacket for the surprisingly warm day.
Away from the window and near the closet stands Barok van Zieks. There is a foreign impatience to the way he moves as he also gets dressed, and Naruhodou is glad to know he's not the only one who can't wait.
A carriage waits for them outside, one Barok will man himself. They don't take much with them, but the most important thing is a glass container. The container, which was a petri dish they had a lid molded for, sits in Naruhodou's lap cradled in cloth. They could've done this anywhere, he knows, it's not like they would release their own into the wild. But even with the more scientific methods of the time, they decided they'd like to be near water, because it just felt right.
They shortly arrive at an empty shore. Barok gets out the carriage first and helps Naruhodou down. Their hands are still entwined even after he's out. Naruhodou turns to Barok, a shy smile on his face.
"I suppose we should begin."
After getting a gentle nod in return, Naruhodou leans down to fill the petri dish with a bit of water. The eggs have no shell and would dry out in the air. He sets it on the ground, and with a supportive hand on his shoulder he crouches to lay a few eggs in the dish. He quickly straightens and fixes his clothes.
Naruhodou holds Barok's hand as the latter releases his own gametes onto the eggs and fixes his clothes as well. All that is left to do is to gingerly pick the container up and lid it. Petri dish in hand, Naruhodou lays his head on Barok's shoulder.
"I must say.. I am looking forward to some noise around the house."
The taller man sounds so content as he says it, Naruhodou can't fight the smile off his face.
"Some noise indeed.. I am told I was not a quiet child."
Barok puts his arm around Naruhodou fondly.
"We shall see who they take after, then."
The carriage ride back goes at a snail's pace, careful not to jostle anything. At home, Barok carefully lowers the unlidded petri dish into a special enclosure designed by one Mr. Dobinbough, built by a Miss Iris. It holds all the needs of a growing larvae.
The new parents embrace, happy and the most impatient they've ever been.