Archive of Our Own

Misako's hands are shaking. Her legs were bouncing nervously the past few minutes, but now every part of her that isn't holding something is now still.
She's been staring at the item in her hand for a good minute or two now, still unable to process it.
Her eyes keep darting to the two possibilities on the left and the little screen on its immediate right that's showcasing the answer she had been considering. Dreading, really.

Maybe she's just tired and she isn't seeing it right. Maybe her eyes are finally giving out and she needs to find a prescription.

But she's been awake for over an hour, and her vision isn't blurry. If anything, she hopes she's really just seeing double. Hopes that her eyes are deceiving her.

But they aren't.

As hard as it is to admit, she knows there's no explanation for what's in her hands other than the most obvious one.

Pregnant.

She's pregnant.

Her lips part and a squeak escapes. She can't muster anything more. She stands up off the closed toilet, stick still clutched in her fingers, and her knees feel weak.

She throws the pregnancy test into the trashcan beside the porcelain and reaches for some toilet paper to help bury it.

Watching the weightless tissue float into the bin, Misako feels shocked. Her heart flutters in her chest before it continues its irregular beating. Tears prick the edges of her eyes.

This is really happening.

She's going to have a baby.

Her hands gently touch her chest, feeling her startled heartbeat, and she tries to calm herself.
She still has to go to work. She can't spend her entire morning in her bathroom, either holding back tears or letting them fall.

She has a job to worry about. She has a husband sleeping in the joined room, she can't lose her composure over something that could very well be false.

She's not even fully sure how this is making her feel. The only word coming to her head is 'uncertainty'.

With a vision blurry and full of confused tears, Misako rinses her hands in the sink and dries them on her pants.

She leaves the bathroom and shudders, seeing Garmadon's shape in the bed. He's still sleeping peacefully, the slow-rising sun peeking through the blinds and casting a shade on his form.

He doesn't know.

She can't tell him.

Misako swallows her fear and leaves the room. All that's left is a quick breakfast and a lacing up of her boots and she can stuff this down until the evening.

———

Misako usually loved her job. She was almost never bored, never stuck, never longing for the day to be over when she was in the museum.
Before today, when she didn't have a massive life change weighing on her mind, she had often been trying to drag her work out as long as she could.

But today, it's actually making her nauseous. The alternative isn't any better, however, so Misako tries to finish her quota and head home without an unnecessary thought. Sitting with her feelings just sounds like a nightmare.

And frankly, she's putting in less effort to make things take longer than she'd like.

She'd been tasked with writing down any meaningful information about newly discovered ancient clay figures, anything to help the museum pin them to a timeline or culture, but the artifacts in front of her are bringing her to a dead end.

Her mind can't focus on writing down anything significant she'd find carved into the little figures on her table.

Her fingers crunch the blank paper before letting it settle on the table.

They then instead move to her head, pulling her hair at the roots. She shuts her eyes and rests her elbows on the table, hanging her head.

The only non-fleeting thought she's having is regarding the news from that morning.

Misako doesn't know what she's going to do, or who she's going to tell—if anyone.

A despaired sigh comes from the woman. It starts as just a sharp huff, but quickly turns into a whimper of remembrance and guilt.

The date she and her husband had last week. She drank so much wine.

She raises her hand to pinch her nose bridge. Her eyes mist again and she looks up in an attempt to keep herself from crying.

She can't do this by herself. This shows her as much. Even if it's selfish, Misako wants somebody to tell her that things will be alright. That she didn't mess anything up. That she didn't just ruin this child's life without even knowing.

Misako never really cared to know much about pregnancy or what not to do. She never even planned to have kids, and as she got older, her knowledge didn't expand much. She still only knew the basics, like not to drink. That was a rule that everyone knew, and whether or not she had planned or even expected this, she would never want to risk this baby's wellbeing.

But drinking something that she's sure she had done enough of in the past week or two.

Now, she just wants her husband.

———

Getting home is bittersweet. Misako just wants to get somewhere comfortable, somewhere familiar. But at the same time, Garmadon would be home soon. She doesn't know if she could manage to be around him for very long without completely breaking down.

And for why, she's not quite sure. Guilt, perhaps, but she also doesn't know what to do next. She feels lonely, too, and of course taken aback.

When she opens the front door, the house is quiet. She unties the laces on her boots and sets them, lined up with the other pairs, against the wall.

Misako tries to think about making some tea instead. She decides, as she walks into the kitchen, that she'll make something to drink and figure out what she'll do next.

Well, what she'll say next. She knows what she has to do.

Loneliness crushes her as she waits for the kettle to heat up above the flame. She crosses her arms and stares out the window over the sink, watching the movement outside for a distraction.

As the water boils, Misako's stomach churns nervously and she hopes she can even drink this tea. She knows there are some non-alcoholic drinks and certain foods people still need to avoid, she just doesn't know what they are.

She looks at the teabag's box and reads it through for any warnings. After skimming it quickly, she finds nothing saying pregnant people can't have it.

She breathes out in relief.
"Thank goodness," placing a hand on her forehead, Misako leans back on the sink edge. She can't imagine cutting out her favorite tea, the only chance in this moment for some calm.

She pours the hot water into a cup and sets the teabag inside.

Then, she turns to the sound of the door opening.

Guilt rattles her nerves again. Her hands set the cup on the counter before she drops it. She holds her breath and turns fully to see her husband whenever he walks out of the genkan.

"Misako?" Garmadon calls gently, peering into the kitchen doorway before his eyes land on her.

"There you are."

He smiles and walks over to her, delivering a kiss onto her forehead and rubbing her forearms.

"Welcome home," Misako murmurs half-heartedly. Her mind is preoccupied and she holds on telling him everything out of nowhere. "How was your day?"

"I spent most of it speaking with Wu." He sighs deeply. "We wanted to make sure tensions weren't rising between, well, everything."

Misako hums. It's easier for her to just listen to him than have to come up with something else to tell him. Though, of course, fears of the Serpentine and how the war is still affecting Ninjago isn't something she enjoys hearing.

"But..things are okay between you two, right?" She wants to know before she says something new that changes both of their worlds. In her head, she's almost hoping something happened that would help her put off telling him. Selfishly hoping. It's hope that's a little self-sabotaging, too.

Garmadon rests his chin on her head with a sigh. "Nothing we can't fix." He scoffs. "Well, I hope."

She bites her tongue, resisting saying anything more. She doesn't even know how she's going to mention this, let alone anything else.

"Eh, enough about me," he says with a self-dismissive tone, shrugging off his day. "How was the museum?"

Misako shuts her eyes. "It was fine." Her voice is reserved.

"'Fine'?" Garmadon pulls his head up and backs up to look at her. His palms rest over the backs of her hands and he holds them in place. "Your job is never just fine. What happened?"

"I guess just...nothing. Nothing eventful." She mutters. "No breakthroughs or new information at all. Just reviewing some things. It was a slow day."

Garmadon looks sympathetically at his wife. A frown creases his lips. He knows how she normally is, and it's not this.

And, on the other side, Misako is feeling her heart being squeezed with guilt. She hates keeping things from her husband. She just wants to be honest with him—their entire relationship is built on honesty. They both know this.

"Koko," Garmadon whispers. "What's wrong?"

Her heart swells at the nickname. She, luckily, keeps herself from crying then, but things are beginning to weigh on her mind again.

"Have..." She shivers.

She runs through the possible reactions he'll have to her next question. She knows him well enough, she figures she can imagine what Garmadon would think of the idea of her having a baby.

He's staring intently at her now, waiting for her to finish.

It makes her head swim, but she takes a deep breath—probably the hundredth of that day.

"Have you ever thought about us becoming parents?"

Her voice is light, almost pleading for a good response, as she looks deeply at her husband. She watches as his eyebrows raise, his entire face softening.

The gears are turning in his head, she can see, before he narrows his eyes ever so slightly.
"Do you think you're—" He licks his lips and steps back.

Staring down at his feet before meeting her gaze again, Garmadon fixes his answer. "I never really considered it. But why?"

As if her tongue is a net, Misako's words catch in her throat. When she swallows, the words are swept back down into the growing pit in her stomach.

"It's just..." She croaks out softly. "I'm a little late this month. I was getting suspicious." She prays her wavering, tiny voice isn't as noticeable as it sounds.
"I wanted to know what you think about it."

Garmadon pauses. Misako struggles meeting his eyes any more, but she does anyway. Her skin is crawling and she's desperate for a solid reaction.

"What I think about it?" He repeats. "What am I going to do about it?"

She blinks. "I..." A huff. "I don't know. I just don't want to decide to do anything without you."

"Well." He says bluntly. His hands pull away from her and rest on his hips. "I think we should find out. Are you going to...check?"

She's slightly taken aback. He's surprisingly forward about it; Misako had expected maybe a bombardment of questions or a small panic around the kitchen first.

She gives him a puzzled stare. "That's it?"

He watches her wring her hands together, silent.

Misako squints. "Aren't you more worried about this?"

"Should I be?" He returns.

She chews the inside of her cheek. Her eyes drift down to the floor before she steps to the side, ready to leave the kitchen. She doesn't care about telling him anymore, she just needs to find something else to focus on.

Garmadon grabs her arm before she leaves. His grip is gentle, and so is his voice.

"..Are you?"

"I..." Misako's throat is dry as the words become stuck. She bites her lip and shakes her head. "I don't know what I feel."

Garmadon's grip on her arm loosens. It's enough that she's able to step away, so she turns around and crosses her arms.

"Misako.." Garmadon keeps his distance now, but looks at her.

In that moment, he's considering what to say. He doesn't know how much she's thought about this—or how much it upsets her. He doesn't mention the way her face looks, how her lip quivers when she isn't talking and how her voice quivers when she is.
He gives a soft huff and his shoulders relax as he watches how she's waiting for his next words. Depending on them, maybe.

It makes his heart ache with how desperate she is.

"You know this isn't going to change how I feel about you, right?"

She only stares at him, waiting for more. Some kind of condition along with that statement.

"Okay..." He shakes his head softly, trying a different approach.

"Why don't we look together?"

———

The trip to buy a pregnancy test—it ended up being multiple, Garmadon had wanted to be sure—was easy enough.

Misako had managed to spend almost the entire trip to the store and back home in silence, mulling over the situation she'd put herself in and what she'd do next.

When they get home, Garmadon hands her the small plastic bag and walks her to the bathroom.

"I'll just be waiting for you," he sighs, tapping the doorframe as she walks inside.

Misako holds her breath as she shuts the door and promptly locks it.

After unboxing and using the first one—really her second one—she sets it down on the counter and opens the door.

Her eyebrows are furrowed, narrowing her vision, and she stares at Garmadon, who just looks a little startled.

"Is everything okay?" He cautiously asks, taking his arm off the doorframe.

"We just have to wait." She mumbles. It's barely an answer, definitely not one that fits his question.
When her head leans forward and falls onto his chest, Garmadon wraps his arms around her.

Hot tears fill her irritated eyes. She's already been crying on and off all day whenever she had a chance alone. She hugs her husband tightly and takes a deep breath.
"I can't look."

She has to applaud herself for her performance of being unsure—it helps that it's rooted in truth somewhere.

She really can't look.

Maybe the first test was wrong, by some chance. Misako doesn't necessarily know if it would be a miracle or not, but either way, checking a second one with her own eyes would be hard to believe. She's fine with living in a bubble, at least for now. It's enough solace to keep her grounded.

"You can't?" Garmadon rubs her back. "That–that's okay, too. You don't have to. I can."

Misako's lips tighten into a frown and she shudders against his embrace.
"I..." She stops.

Altering her question, Misako continues. "What do you want it to be?"

A long silence.

She hears how Garmadon's breathing changes. How it goes from regular to slow, silent, almost nervous.

It sounds like he tries to say more before stopping himself, right before any words are made out.

"I don't know." He admits.

That doesn't help.

Misako feels lost. She doesn't typically look for her husband's opinion on things to form her own, but on something like this, she desperately needs another view. She can't sensibly make a decision on how she feels without taking in his side, too.

"Not to say it would be a bad thing," Garmadon clarifies. "Just––as we both get older, I figured that was an opportunity we lost. We wouldn't really get the option to have kids anymore."

"We aren't that old." Misako gives a tiny smile as her head is still pressed against Garmadon's shoulder.

"I know, I know, but we'll be getting there. Having a baby..." He exhales through pursed lips.

Misako's gaze lowers. Her smile fades into the tightened, worried frown she's growing used to.

She clears her throat.
"I'm going back in." Her voice is more firm now. She releases her arms from her husband and backs up into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Her eyes pass the test on the counter before she can make out the result. It's probably not even done yet, she just has to wait.

She has to wait alone.

In her heart, she already knows what the answer will be.

"Is it done?" His voice calls from behind the door.

"It needs another minute or two," she responds.
Against her better judgment, Misako reaches to grab the test.
She holds it in front of her, and a wave of déjà vu crashes onto her as she stares at the result.

Pregnant.

Again.

She really is pregnant.

Déjà vu can be explained. Debunked, even. But this is true. This is solid evidence in her hand, evidence that proves she messed up somewhere.
Her heart swells. She almost drops the test, almost throws it against the wall. But she only stares, silent and open-mouthed, as tears flood into her eyes.

It's really happening now.

Her blurry gaze shifts to the bag on the floor. The other boxes, unopened, untouched, unused. They won't need to be.

She covers her mouth with one hand and her shoulders shake.

A sob escapes her mouth before she can stifle it. She sniffles loudly, and her lungs almost collapse with the way her cries come out. She sets the test back on the sink and wipes her tears with the lower palms of her hands.

"Misako?"

Garmadon's voice comes shaky through the door.
His voice holds a certain tremble in each syllable that she barely picks up on, but it's there. He sounds more than just concerned. He sounds as if every cry she lets out is a personal mar on his skin.

"Are you okay?"

The doorknob creaks. Misako turns her head to watch it rotate before the door is pushed open, and Garmadon rushes in to see her.

She's standing, leaning against the wall for support, hands covering her teary face.

He bypasses the test on the sink, immediately coming to her side.
"Misako," he coos, hugging her tight.

Her hands break away from her face and she throws them over his shoulders again, interlocking her fingers on his back. Her body bends to fit the curve of his, she's on the tips of her toes and her chin is sitting on his shoulder.

"Don't cry," Garmadon whispers. "What did it say?"

She clears her throat and whimpers. "Look."
She points one finger to the sink, and Garmadon relaxes his arms around her to turn around and see it.

He lets go and reaches for it, handling it carefully.

Misako watches—stares intently, really—as his eyes narrow before they widen. She sees his pupils do the same thing before his eyes flick up at her.

"It's..." He swallows. "You're..?" He can barely make out the words, but he sounds hopeful.

She can't meet his eyes again. She can't even see him through her haze.

"It could be a false positive." He tries, putting aside his own feelings as he notices her face.

"It isn't. I'm sure of that."

Garmadon's gaze softens. "Why does that make you upset?"

"Because, I..." Misako's breath catches. She coughs—it's more like a huff than anything else—before she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I really messed up." She whimpers.

Her voice cracks as she finally says it out loud. To herself, to somebody else. She made a mistake. An oversight.

"Woah, woah, woah," Garmadon discards the test and wraps her in a big hug. His hand clutches the back of her head, tangling in her loose braid, and holds her close. "What do you mean?"

She cries into his shoulder. She doesn't feel as hopeless as she thought she would, it feels cathartic in a way. But any therapy she gets from finally letting this off her chest is overshadowed by the monster of guilt, still sitting on her back.
"I should have known earlier. It's my fault if anything happens. This..." She swallows. "I always know everything. And now I didn't."

Garmadon's thumb brushes against her smooth hair and she squeezes her eyes shut. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, rocking her body with his. With a shiver, she realizes he's listening, waiting for her, and she continues.

"I feel so guilty."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I drank alcohol." She returns sharply, but her voice cracks into a whisper as she admits it. "I haven't been seeing a doctor, or eating the right things. If there's a complication, it will be my fault."

Being enveloped in her husband's arms usually makes her feel better; it grounds her most times.
Even now, as she's almost watching herself outside of her body, she has to admit his touch helps bring her back. His smell, his voice, the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair.

"Misako," he begins firmly. She keeps her eyes closed, steadying her breathing. "Give me an answer to this... are you standing here with me now?"

She swallows. "Yes?"

"And how do you feel?" He returns.

Misako doesn't question where he's going with this. He's a smart man, even if she isn't sure what he's trying to say.
"I feel upset." She returns bluntly. Her throat hurts from its still-tight muscles.

Garmadon hums and his other hand rubs her back. She's still pressed close to him. "Do you see how we're both still here? Despite anything you drank, ate, or didn't eat before? Despite how you feel?"
He continues, "You're still standing right here, I'm still holding you, and you're still supporting a little person. Whether or not you think you did something wrong. Doing something unknowingly doesn't mean anything bad is going to happen to that. To any of us."

Her breathing slows as she thinks about it.

"My dear," he murmurs, lowering his head so his lips graze her temple. "Nothing you can do or say will convince me you're at fault for anything. We're all still here. I'm still here with you; everything will still be okay."

His voice makes her shudder. The words are simple enough, but they touch something in her heart that makes her head spin. She rests on the man's shoulder and closes her eyes.

The two stand in silence. Garmadon's hand is still moving through Misako's hair. She wants to just hold him there forever. Being close to him is all she really wants.

"Are you happy?" She finally whispers.

His arm continues to wrap around her. The embrace is a little tight, but it comforts her. "Does it matter what I think?"

"I want to know this at least." She sniffs and reaches up to dry her cheeks again. "Please tell me."

She feels Garmadon's fingers sweep against her scalp, his nails trailing through the roots of her dark hair. "I can only be happy if you're happy." He says.

A pause. Misako adjusts the way she's standing, leaned against him, before she lets out a sigh. It sounds different. It sounds less heavy, less weighed down by heavy emotions.

"I think I am."

She feels him hug her closer. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, shutting his eyes. A kiss is then planted on the side of her head.

"Then I am, too."