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Prologue – Kanroji Obanai & The Ultrasound Photos
“Awe, look at you! Do you remember that day?”
The very moment Obanai forgot anything about Mitsuri, he’d visit his doctor suspecting amnesia.
But there wasn’t a need to be so dramatic in casual conversation. He left that adoring trait to Mitsuri.
“I fell in love with you that day.”
“Really?” Mitsuri beamed. She shifted so she was leaning into Obanai. The few photos piled in her lap slipped, nearly falling onto Obanai’s thighs and mixing up what they’d managed to sort of their middle and high school years. Obanai caught a photo that threatened to tumble off of Mitsuri’s knee. It was, chronologically, the next photo after the one Mitsuri still had in her hand—Obanai handing Mitsuri a flower, photographed by her teacher, and Mitsuri putting the flower in her hair, also photographed by her teacher.
“Really.” Back then, when he was still getting to know the girl he’d grown to love more than life itself, he loved Mitsuri because of her smile, her big reactions to little things, her adoration for people, the space she carved out of her full heart specifically for Obanai to fit into. He loved that she loved Kaburamaru, his pet snake that he just couldn’t let leave his side, no matter how much he aged. He loved that she never asked him what was under his mask, or why he wore it in the first place. He loved that she let him choose when he wanted to be quiet and when he wanted to speak up.
People often treated Obanai like some mystery they needed to figure out. He was “cool” but he was “weird,” and everyone wanted to know why he hid his face, why he didn’t speak, why his snake followed him everywhere, why his eyes were different colors. Only Mitsuri wanted to know who he spoke to outside of school, what he liked to do when he was at home, what his favorite subject was, what he was going to prepare for the science fair. And she didn’t just want to know, she wanted to remember—so she could ask him how Sanemi was doing, what songs he’d learned on guitar recently, what his grade in math was, if he needed help on his project and if he wouldn’t mind helping with her project. She picked him apart delicately, like he was a flower and she was chanting he loves me, he loves me not. She kept all his components safe in her palm—seven little petals that confirmed, then and there and forevermore, he loves me.
“Obanai,” Mitsuri said in that sing-song way, a gentle tone of voice that releaved how flattered she was. If not for that, the kiss she pressed against Obanai’s cheek was ample evidence. She held his face as she kissed him, and Obanai was encapsulated by her warmth. She was a stark contrast to the chill that had settled over their living room, his very own taste of summer in the winter.
“I fell in love with you,” Mitsuri drew her words out as she shuffled through the photos on Obanai’s lap. It didn’t take long for her to pluck a particular photo from the pile. Obanai vividly remembered Mitsuri’s mother taking it. Proudly, Mitsuri concluded, “That day.”
It was Mitsuri’s first day of high school. She was beaming at the camera, and Obanai was hiding behind his mask again. Mitsuri was clutching his hand, nervous but excited to start the next four years of her life.
“I was so touched when you told me you wouldn’t leave my side until I knew my way around,” Mitsuri said. She absentmindedly traced Obanai’s face in the photo, then lifted her hand to massage the back of Obanai’s neck. “I’ve always had people in my life who cared about me, but the way you did it was different. You’ve always been so special.”
Obanai kissed the section of her arm that his mouth could reach. She touched their foreheads together, her breath fanning his already-flushed cheeks as she laughed.
“I can’t believe you fell in love before me,” Mitsuri said. She pulled away suddenly, with a gasp—an idea. “I bet I had a crush on you first!”
Mitsuri looked through the photos on her own lap, then reached into the box containing the majority of their shared memories and began shuffling through more of their childhood moments—way back when they first met, nearly 20 years earlier. Obanai was new in town, having just been dumped on the Rengoku family after a terribly tragic occurrence in his childhood home. Shinjuro and Ruka took him in willingly despite having two kids of their own. Obanai would always be grateful to them—not just for taking care of him, but for having a home next to the Kanrojis and allowing him to find love at such a young age.
Mitsuri picked up a few photos of Obanai with the Rengoku children, Kyoujurou and Senjuro. Kyoujurou was in Obanai’s age bracket, just a year younger, but Senjuro was a baby at the time. In one photo, the tiny boy was holding both Kyoujurou’s and Obanai’s hands, as thrilled to have another older brother as Kyoujurou had been to finally have one of his own.
“Right when we met!” She said proudly, presenting the photo to Obanai. “Kyoujurou told me you were shy but kind, and you were gentle with him and Senjurou even though you were nervous in a new environment. And when you spoke, your voice was soft. I also really liked your eyes. I had a crush on you right away.”
Technically, Obanai had Mitsuri beat in that regard, too. He had spotted her out of the window one morning, just over a week after he moved in with the Rengoku family and still a few days short of meeting any of the neighbors. He was watching the sun rise because he’d never been allowed outside before. Mitsuri came bounding out of her front door with her dad hot on her heels, visibly worried about her tripping down the stairs of their porch or otherwise darting into the street. As Obanai would soon find out was the standard, Mitsuri was smiling, and her loud shouts about whatever she was excited about reached Obanai through the window he’d cracked for fresh air. Her beauty was striking, like love itself, and her voice sounded the way warm sunlight felt on a winter morning—soothing relief through a painful bite.
But Mitsuri was so proud of herself, and Obanai refused to shatter her excitement.
“You got me,” he said. It was technically true. Obanai wasn’t sure he’d ever had a crush on Mitsuri, after all; he’d always felt for her the most love he could possess, at every age he’d reached since he saw her that day. She made him grateful for the human heart’s and body’s and soul’s shared ability to love more and more with each year that passed, so he had more of himself to give to Mitsuri on every anniversary.
Mitsuri kissed him again, an act finally made simple by the level of comfort he’d reached to keep his mask—now bandages—off when it was just the two of them. He still had growing to do, in terms of his confidence, but Mitsuri reminded him every single day that he was just 24, young enough to make mistakes and not have it all figured out yet, even if it was himself.
“Can you start taping them?” Mitsuri asked, handing Obanai the little clump of photos in her hand. Right, they weren’t just taking a trip down memory lane; they were putting together a photo book, something they’d always promised they would do but had never gotten around to. It turned into an anniversary gift for each other, per Mitsuri’s suggestion. Sure, they’d buy each other actual presents or otherwise treat the other to a nice dinner, but they could spend part of their anniversary weekend sorting through all the photos they had and creating a scrapbook out of it. Mitsuri had gone out to buy supplies, and Obanai had carefully arranged their photos in chronological order—to the best of his ability. The past couple hours had been dedicated to flipping through the photos together and making sure they were in the order they desired. He’d messed up middle and high school, hence the re-organized photos in their lap, but he’d done a good job through the remainder of their years together.
Mitsuri bought a scrapbook, not a photobook, because her idea was to tape the photos to the pages and doodle little captions or sketches to bring their memories to life. She’d bought a beast of a book that took up most of the real estate in front of their laps, but they did have nearly 300 photos to organize, tape, and decorate. Plus, they had an entire life ahead of them; they would certainly need the extra space.
“I forgot to grab the washi tape,” Mitsuri complained. Obanai pressed his hand against her thigh when she tried to stand up.
“Stay,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
“No, it’s okay! You stay, I know exactly where it is,” Mitsuri insisted. She jumped to her feet and left the room with a kiss pressed to Obanai’s forehead.
In the meantime, Obanai shuffled through a few more photos from their youth. He loved the one of Mitsuri pressing a kiss to his cheek the day they went to prom together. She’d looked so gorgeous in her pink dress, a darker shade that wonderfully complemented the navy blue suit Obanai opted to wear. He also loved the one of her holding Senjuro on her bicep as the boy laughed and flexed with her. Mitsuri had always been incredibly strong, a byproduct of looking up to her father and even training with him on a daily basis. It was one of the many things Obanai adored about her.
“I forgot a few of our photos,” Mitsuri said. Her arms were overflowing with washi tape—pink, green, black, and white, representative of Mitsuri’s hair and Obanai’s rather muted fashion sense. Obanai immediately reached out to help her with the tape, though his gaze was focused on the square photos in her hand. They were stacked together, and Obanai could only see the white back of one of them. They were bigger than the others, and Obanai couldn’t even begin to imagine where they had come from.
“What’s that, love?” Obanai asked. Mitsuri sat down next to him, suddenly looking nervous or sick, perhaps both. Her hands were trembling as she handed the photos to Obanai.
“I was thinking,” she said, and her voice wavered, like she was going to cry. “I was thinking these could be the newest addition to our photobook.”
“Are you okay?” Obanai asked. He set the photos aside, no longer thinking of his own curiosity, and tried to wrap his arm around her, but Mitsuri pressed the photos right back into his hand.
“Just look at them,” she urged.
Obanai kept his arm around her waist, hoping to bring her some comfort until she told him what was going on. But, she’d asked him to do something, so he obediently folded open the photos—and promptly dropped them again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away,” Mitsuri said as Obanai was scooping her into his arms, cognizant of her stomach but desperate to hold her. She laughed, a beautifully happy and excited sound, still twinged with nerves. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Oh, Obanai was certainly surprised. Without letting Mitsuri go, he picked up the ultrasound photos again, and he studied the outline of their baby. Their baby. They hadn’t planned for a baby—not so soon, anyway—but Obanai couldn’t be happier. He was sure Mitsuri could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her chest; he could feel hers.
“We’re having a baby,” he whispered. He hugged Mitsuri tighter, and he dropped his forehead against her shoulder with a small laugh, full of joy and disbelief. “We’re gonna be parents.”
“You’re going to be such a great dad,” Mitsuri said, softly combing her fingers through Obanai’s hair.
The two of them sat together for a while, holding each other in silence, in pure bliss. Obanai was thinking of their future—and he wondered if they would have a boy or a girl, if their child would get more attached to one of them, as children often do, what they would be interested in when they could start to form their own thoughts and opinions.
“Do you know if we’re having a boy or girl?” Obanai asked. He finally let go of Mitsuri so he could look at her. She was teary-eyed, but she was smiling so much he almost didn’t even notice.
She nodded. “Do you want to know?”
“Yes.” Obanai gently touched his fingers to Mitsuri’s stomach, where their baby was growing. Their baby.
“It’s a boy,” she said. The thought of a little boy running around their home, clutching his mother’s skirt and asking Obanai for advice, pulled at his heartstrings. He, too, teared up, wetting his cheeks when Mitsuri kissed him and said, “I hope he looks like you.”
Perhaps he would have Mitsuri’s hair and Obanai’s eyes, her mouth and his nose—a perfect, beautiful mix of both of them.
“And now we have to tell everyone else,” Mitsuri said as she combed her fingers through Obanai’s hair, a touch of comfort as they cried together. Obanai hadn’t been thinking of anyone else at all, too caught up in his ecstasy of finding out he was going to have a son in less than a year. But, she was right; they had over a dozen people to deliver the news to, all of whom would want to know immediately.
“I already called my parents,” she confessed. “When I found out, I couldn’t help myself, I called my mom right away. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first.”
“It’s okay.” Obanai sealed his promise with a kiss against her palm. Mitsuri and her mother had such a close relationship, Obanai always expected her to be the first person in the world Mitsuri shared big news with, good or bad. If anything, it made him happy that she was so close to her parents. He knew what it was like to hate his family, and for them to hate him. He lived vicariously through Mitsuri’s familial relationships, and he couldn’t be happier that she had them for herself.
“I was thinking we should tell Kyoujurou first,” Mitsuri said. She smiled, like she was up to something. “And I have ideas for how we can tell everyone.”
“I’m guessing it’s not just phone calls?” Obanai asked. That’s the route he would choose, on account of not valuing face-to-face time as much as Mitsuri did—with their friends, at least. Quality time with Mitsuri was an entirely different story.
“I want to tell everyone in person,” Mitsuri confirmed. “And I want to tell everyone differently. I think it’ll be fun. Is that okay?”
Obanai would do anything for Mitsuri.
“Of course.” He kissed her palm. “We’ll tell them however you want.”
1 – Rengouko Kyoujurou & The “Best Godfather Ever” Shirt
Starting with Kyoujurou was smart on multiple levels, the primary one being he lived a two-hour drive away from Obanai and Mitsuri; they were getting the most inconvenient trip out of the way first.
It hadn’t always been that way. In fact, it had only been around three months since Kyoujurou moved out of their town. Whereas Obanai and Mitsuri decided to stay—granted, on the opposite side of the town they’d grown up in—Kyoujurou made an executive decision to get himself and Senjuro far away from their father.
Up until Kyoujurou turned 21, he lived at home. Even when he did move out, it was to an apartment just 15 minutes away from his father’s house. He wanted to start his own life, but he didn’t want to leave Senjuro behind.
The boys’ relationship with Shinjuro had grown complicated, though. Ruka died just before Kyoujurou turned 20, succumbing to the breast cancer she’d been battling for years. Whereas the boys had grieved and tried their best to move forward, Shinjuro had taken the brutal path of alcoholism to deal with the death of his wife. It got to the point that Senjuro staying with him was dangerous, on account of him being neglectful and meaner day by day. When he found out how bad things had gotten, Kyoujurou didn’t waste one second getting his brother away from the man they no longer recognized. He didn’t even want to stay in the same town as his father, so he packed up, didn’t tell anyone but their friends where they were going, and moved a few towns away.
Despite everything the Rengoku children had been through, though, they were no less excitable—and they were thrilled to see Obanai and Mitsuri.
“I missed you both very much!” Kyoujurou declared. He gathered both of them into his arms for a tight hug. Senjuro came flying into the room, and he hugged Mitsuri as soon as he found an opening to do so.
“Hi, Mrs. Kanroji!” Senjuro said. Looking at them, Obanai couldn’t help but picture their own child at his age. He was certain, a gut feeling, that their son would grow up to be a mama’s boy, with big, bright eyes that looked up at Mitsuri with just as much adoration as Senjuro did.
“Please, come in!” Kyoujurou said, stepping aside and inviting Obanai and Mitsuri into his new home.
“How are you liking the new place?” Mitsuri asked. It was hers and Obanai’s first time visiting since Kyoujurou and Senjuro had moved, a little too busy with work and life to commit to the drive. The two of them had taken the time to purchase a few housewarming gifts that they sent straight to Kyoujurou’s new address, but that was the most involved they’d been in the whirlwind move.
“It’s wonderful!” Kyoujurou said. He led them to the living room, which was impressively festive. Along the wall, bearing two large windows and a fireplace beneath their TV, was their Christmas tree—tall, white, and beautifully decorated with red, gold, and silver bulbs. Their stockings were pinned above the other window, lined with yellow lights and a wreath. They already had mounds of presents stacked around the tree and a plate of cookies on the table. There were also red bows pinned to the wall and what looked like a comprehensive set of Christmas characters—Santa, his reindeer, his elves, and various snowmen—intentionally arranged along the base of the wall, circling the room.
“Did you two decorate all by yourself?” Mitsuri asked with wide eyes. Her and Obanai had done some decorating a few days prior, but Obanai wouldn’t actually let her climb onto or carry anything; she just directed Obanai while he did all of the heavy lifting. She was only six weeks pregnant, but Obanai couldn’t help being cautious. He was going to fret over her for the duration of her pregnancy and her healing period.
“Senjuro is responsible for our festivities!” Kyoujurou said, dropping his arm over his brother’s shoulder. “He has a good eye for home decor!”
“I like to decorate,” Senjuro said happily. He had gained a considerable amount of his brightness back since he and Kyoujurou left town. Last Obanai saw him, he was clinging to his brother’s shirt, and he had a red handprint on his cheek. He couldn’t look anyone in the eye. It was a terrible night, but Mitsuri’s coddling and their spare bedroom eased some of the pain.
“Maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me decorate the spare room next year,” Mitsuri said, her cadence making it clear she was asking, not telling. Senjuro was quick and excited to agree.
“Why are you renovating it?” Kyoujurou asked. The four of them sat together in the living room—Obanai and Mitsuri on the couch, Senjuro and Kyoujurou on the recliners. He held up a hand when Mitsuri started to answer. “Let me get you some water first. Just a moment!”
Funnily enough, Kyoujurou either hadn’t noticed the gifts Mitsuri was carrying or didn’t want to bring them up. They were both packaged in leftover bags from Christmas, so he likely thought Mitsuri brought them simply to drop them off for the upcoming holiday.
Mitsuri extended her arm to Senjuro, who nearly fell over in his haste to grab the present from her. He loved gifts, and he was more than ready to tear it open right away, but Mitsuri frantically told him to wait for Kyoujurou’s return. Senjuro rushed his brother back to his seat, desperately curious about what Mitsuri and Obanai could have bought for the two of them ahead of Christmas.
“Thank you very much!” Kyoujurou said before he sat back down. Senjuro tore into his bag as soon as Kyoujurou touched the tissue paper on his gift.
Obanai and Mitsuri had gone a simple route for the two of them, having purchased white shirts with custom black lettering for each of them. For Kyoujorou, in particular, the gift was a little more than a pregnancy announcement—because his shirt read “Best Godfather Ever,” adding another stake to the situation that had Mitsuri squeezing one of Obanai’s hands between both of hers.
“This is really soft,” Senjuro mumbled, nervously glancing at Kyoujurou. He clearly didn’t understand why he was receiving a shirt with the words “Best Uncle Ever” on it, but he was too polite to come across as ungrateful or outwardly confused. Kyoujurou also needed a minute to make sense of the gift, staring at his shirt with furrowed brows.
“Godfather?” Kyoujurou mumbled to himself. He blinked slowly; the gears visibly turned in his head. Mitsuri snickered, pressing her hands to her mouth. Finally, Kyoujurou gasped, shooting to his feet at the same time as Senjuro, who seemed to realize what their gifts meant at the exact moment his brother did.
“You’re having a baby?” Senjuro cried out. Mitsuri nodded, smiling, “I’m six weeks. And you’re the first people we’ve told, so it’s a secret until further notice.”
Whether or not Senjuro and Kyoujurou actually heard her was debatable, as Kyoujurou scooped her into a hug before she even finished speaking, and Senjuro buried himself between the two of them. They didn’t completely forget about Obanai, pulling him into their own separate hugs for a few seconds at a time, but they spent much of their energy congratulating Mitsuri, crying, and babbling out questions about the baby’s gender, name, due date, and so forth.
Obanai watched them fondly, and he felt a sense of calm knowing that Kyoujurou would take good care of their child, if anything happened to the two of them. He was also equal parts amused and relieved that Senjuro was so quick to offer himself up as a babysitter, “I’ll even take the train over, so you can relax and not worry about anything!”
Their son would be well-loved.
2 – Himejima Gyoumei, Tokito Muichirou, & Clairvoyance
Telling Gyoumei didn’t require any travel, nor did the occasion call for the same type of set-up the couple planned for the rest of their friend group. In fact, Gyoumei took the first step in reaching out to them, as he happened to invite Mitsuri and Obanai over to catch up one afternoon. It was a common occurrence; they were neighbors, after all, with just a few houses separating their properties.
Upon moving in, Mitsuri brought all of the neighbors baked goods. Their relationships with most of their neighbors remained friendly, lending each other sugar and bringing the mail inside when they were away on vacation, but they hadn’t actually gotten close to any of them except for Gyoumei.
It was thanks to his son, Tokito Muichirou. He was a quiet boy, seven years Obanai’s junior, who Gyoumei had adopted around the same time Obanai and Mitsuri settled into their house. Muichirou, despite being quiet, was not shy. He showed up on Obanai’s and Mitsuri’s doorstep two days after Mitsuri brought them cookies, boldly wondering if he could have more sweets; he even brought them half a loaf of bread Gyoumei had baked to barter. (The couple would find out a few days later that Muichirou hadn’t even received permission to take it.)
Muichirou stuck around after that, a frequent guest in the Kanroji home. He liked their spacious living room, Mitsuri’s stories, Kaburamru, and Night Owl, the kitten the couple had adopted shortly after moving in. Mitsuri and Obanai liked that Muichirou felt comfortable enough to visit whenever he felt like leaving home; Mitsuri, in particular, loved when she could welcome someone else into their space, the extrovert and the wonderful host that she was.
Gyoumei was more than happy to also invite them into his home once he realized how much Muichirou liked them and how much they took care of him. It also just so happened that Gyoumei had kind-of, sort-of taken in the stray cat that constantly pawed at their windows to see Night Owl. The stray—simply named “Kitty” by Muichirou—was still an outdoor cat, but he more often than not slipped through the cat door Gyoumei had built into his back door to be fed, to play with Muichirou, and to take shelter when it was cold or rainy.
As such, the cat was the first to greet Obanai and Mitsuri when they arrived at Gyoumei’s place, sporting thick coats and hats to combat the cold. Kitty meowed behind the door, and he nearly jumped onto Obanai, who was holding Night Owl, when Muichirou opened it.
“Behave,” Muichirou scolded, scruffing the cat. Kitty didn’t complain. He darted back into the house when Obanai put Night Owl down, both playful cats zooming around the living room, happy to be together.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Kanroji,” Muichirou greeted. He left the door open for the two of them to come inside, and he ran off to fetch Gyoumei, who was in the backyard clearing some of the heavy snow out of his walkway. He had lived on his own for years and years, and though he was plenty capable of taking care of himself, Muichirou was committed to helping the blind man as much as he could. He held Gyoumei’s hand as the two of them walked, leading Gyoumei right to Mitsuri and Obanai so he could greet them properly.
“Mei-Mei,” Muichirou said. “Mr. and Mrs. Kanroji brought Night Owl to play with Kitty.”
“Lovely,” Gyoumei said. “I bought treats the other day, can you give them some?”
“Okay,” Muichirou agreed. But, he didn’t exit the room until he led Gyoumei to the couch, sitting with Obanai and Mitsuri.
“I’ll get everyone something to drink,” he said. He left, and Night Owl and Kitty came zooming back into the room. Night Owl initially jumped into Gyoumei’s lap, and Kitty followed. Both the cats made their way to Mitsuri, though, sniffing at her stomach before settling on her lap. Mitsuri tried not to laugh. Night Owl had been very attached to Mitsuri lately, constantly sleeping next to or on top of her stomach. She even bit Obanai when he tried to rest his hand on her stomach one night.
“How are both of you doing?” Gyoumei asked. He listened to their life updates—a major one being their seventh anniversary as a couple and the completion of their scrapbook, with what photos they had—and their plans for Christmas. They skirted around the topic of the baby, wanting to wait for Muichirou to return before they broke the news.
“Muichirou and I are going to stay in and bake. I’ll rent a few movies he’s been wanting to see,” Gyoumei said, when Mitsuri returned the question about his Christmas plans. “You’re more than welcome to come over, if you wish.”
“Please come over,” Muichirou said, choosing that moment to walk into the room. He gave Muichirou and Obanai each a glass of water. He’d made tea for Gyoumei, which he carefully placed into the man’s hands with a warning, “It’s hot. Is it too warm? Okay.”
He also had treats for the cats, who jumped down from Mitsuri’s lap to follow Muichirou and whine at him. Muichirou didn’t feed them until he was sitting on the floor. They crowded his lap and stretched their paws up against his chest and shoulders, whining right into his face like the spoiled pets they were.
Gyoumei was smiling, head pointed in Muichirou’s direction as if he was watching him. He’d once told Mitsuri and Obanai that it was his dream to take care of children, whether he was a teacher or he had the privilege of becoming a father himself. He called Muichirou his miracle child, though he wished the boy hadn’t gone through the tragedy of losing his loving family to end up in Gyoumei’s home.
His love for children, though, is what led to Mitsuri wanting to tell him as soon as possible—even before some of the friends they’d had for much longer. Muichirou had also confessed that he wished there were other children around for him to watch over, since he’d never gotten to be a big brother, only a little one—and he wasn’t even that, anymore.
“Actually, we wanted to tell you something,” Mitsuri said.
Muichirou lifted his head, looked right into Mitsuri’s eyes, and said one of the most unsettling things he could say at that moment. “You’re pregnant, right?”
“What?” Mitsuri spluttered. Obanai stared at the boy, his eyes wide—how the hell did he know? He looked at Mitsuri, who had placed her hand over her stomach. She laughed incredulously. “How did you know?”
“Mei-Mei has dreams when someone’s pregnant,” Muichirou said.
“I only dream when a new life is due near me,” Gyoumei confirmed. Muichirou took his tea so he could open his arms for Mitsuri and Obanai. The couple easily went to him, even as they eyed each other wondering how on earth Gyoumei and Muichirou could know already.
Gyoumei had begun to cry; the gentle giant would sob over spilled milk, as sensitive as he was. “I am so happy for both of you. I pray you’ll have a healthy baby boy.”
Mitsuri gasped in shock, saying what Obanai was thinking: “You know it’s a boy, too?!”
She leaned back to look wildly around at all of the men in the room. Muichirou was unphased. Obanai’s eyes were wide.
“No, that was a guess,” Gyoumei said, which led Obanai to snicker.
“Well, you’re right,” Obanai said. Gyoumei cried even harder, “A beautiful baby boy! I will pray for his health. I am sure he will prosper.”
Gyoumei had always been somewhat clairvoyant—even his inviting Obanai and Mitsuri over that day had been a huge coincidence—but this was reaching new heights. Regardless, it made Obanai feel good to know that Gyoumei saw a bright future for them and their baby. Clearly, he had a good gut about the future.
Like Senjuro, Muichirou offered to babysit and look over the boy once he was born. He also demanded to see the baby right away, and to be able to hold him when Obanai and Mitsuri brought him home.
Their baby was going to garner so much attention from their friends; he’d be the most loved boy in the world.
3 – Kochou Shinobu & The Pregnancy Test
Thinking of ways to tell Shinobu she was pregnant had been the catalyst for Mitsuri coming up with a unique way to tell each of their friends. Mitsuri had taken multiple pregnancy tests just to make sure she wasn’t receiving a false positive, and she’d decided to keep all three of them. Her initial thought was to bring one to her parents, but she ruined her own plans by calling her mother immediately. But, that didn’t mean she couldn’t give Shinobu one.
Just like Kyoujurou, Mitsuri hid the surprise in a small gift bag, full of tissue paper, and brought it to the cafe they’d picked out to grab coffee and catch up. Shinobu brought Kanao, her younger sister who was soon to go off to college to study engineering. The girl barely spoke, but she apparently enjoyed Mitsuri’s and Obanai’s company.
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Shinobu said, hugging Mitsuri gently. She nodded at Obanai. The two of them weren’t necessarily close, and they hardly shared any conversation unless Mitsuri was involved, but they got along well enough. They’d been in each other’s lives for years, with Mitsuri being their common denominator.
“I know! How was Christmas? And how is the move going?” Mitsuri gestured to Kanao as she asked. The two of them chatted as Obanai helped Mitsuri slide into the booth. He also took initiative to begin ordering, since the table had a QR code to place their orders online. He knew what Mitsuri would want—a tea, this time, because she was carefully watching her caffeine intake and never drank coffee after 12:00 anyway. He also ordered her a slice of cheesecake, and got himself a black coffee. He handed his phone to Kanao, who just gave him a smile before adding her order to the cart. She gently got her sister’s attention in the midst of Shinobu telling Mitsuri how excited she was about her new position at work, and the things she wanted to buy now that she’d gotten a raise.
Shinobu tried to pay Obanai for her and Kanao’s portion of the bill once their order was placed, but Obanai brushed her off. “We invited you out.”
“Well, thank you,” Shinobu said. Kanao nodded in agreement, polite even without words.
Shinobu and Mitsuri continued to converse at a mile a minute. Obanai and Kanao were similar, in that they preferred to be quiet as they listened to others speak around them. He did decide to open the “two-player games” app he’d specifically downloaded for the times he was hanging out with one of the quieter kids in their lives. Kanao was eager to battle him in various games on his phone for a while, from darts to checkers to connect four. Kanao crushed him in everything but snakes—and he was genuinely trying after their first round of tic tac toe!
“Good job, kid,” Obanai said, admitting defeat. Kanao just smiled, cocky, triumphant, and happy. Obanai put his phone away now that all of their drinks and Mitsuri’s cheesecake had arrived. She tried to share it with everyone at the table, but they all refused—Shinobu and Kanao because they weren’t hungry, and Obanai because he knew Mitsuri was eating for two.
She was nearing 10 weeks; it was only a matter of time before she would start to show. It had been killing her these past weeks not to just call Shinobu up to tell her, but she was committed to telling Shinobu in person, and work had been increasingly busy for each of them—not to mention Kanao needing Shinobu’s help to choose what to pack for the dorm room she’d be living in on campus.
Now that they were all settled with their drinks, though, with a lull in the conversation serving her mission, Mitsuri didn’t waste one more second. She produced the small gift bag from her purse and handed it to Shinobu. “Surprise! Open it.”
Shinobu frowned, but she took the gift. She glanced at Obanai, then Kanao. It wasn’t unlike Mitsuri to give Shinobu gifts, but there was usually an occasion for it, especially these days. Hence her confusion, “I didn’t tell you I got promoted until right now.”
“I know,” Mitsuri said, trying to control the intensity of her smile. “I just wanted to surprise you.”
Shinobu plucked the tissue paper out of the bag. She frowned, reached in, and produced the pregnancy test—which Mitsuri had, of course, washed, and even secured in a clear ziplock bag. It only took Shinobu a second to process what she was holding, with her jaw wide open as she scanned the “positive” reading on the test.
“Shut the hell up,” Shinobu whispered. She jumped out of her seat to hug Mitsuri, leaving the pregnancy test on the table. She also didn’t forget about Obanai, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, but she focused her energy on hugging Mitsuri and spilling all of her congratulations into her shoulder.
Kanao picked up the left-behind pregnancy test and studied it for a second. She looked up, meeting Obanai’s gaze, and nodded shortly. She did speak this time, after putting the test to the side, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, kid,” Obanai said. Shinobu and Mitsuri were both crying and frantically trying to control the volume of their voices as Shinobu asked run-of-the-mill questions — How far along are you? Is it a boy or a girl? What are you going to name him? Do you need anything? How can I help? — and Mitsuri excitedly answered them.
“I’ll come see him as soon as he’s born,” Kanao said, surprising Obanai—but just for a second.
“He’ll be excited to meet you,” Obanai said. The two of them smiled at each other for a moment. Kanao looked up at Shinobu, assessed that the two of them weren’t going to be done talking, or probably even sit down anytime soon, and she turned back to Obanai. “Can we play more games?”
4 – Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyuu, & The Surprise Cards
Getting ahold of Sanemi and Giyuu was nearly impossible. It wasn’t usually difficult to get ahold of the couple; Sanemi, at least, answered his phone most of the time, whereas Giyuu barely looked at his on a daily basis. But, Sanemi had proposed to Giyuu about a year prior, and the two of them were in intense wedding planning mode (read: Sanemi was being the textbook definition of a “Bride-zilla,” and Giyuu was trying his best to keep his fiancé’s arteries from exploding).
Obanai and Mitsuri made the executive decision to just drop by Sanemi’s and Giyuu’s place one day, when they were both fairly certain the couple would be home. It could be a quick trip— Mitsuri hands them each their cards, they celebrate for a few minutes, and then Obanai and Mitsuri leave the couple to finish their wedding planning.
Giyuu answered the door, with Sanemi calling out behind him, “If it’s Uzui, tell him to go die in a hole!”
Obanai snickered. Mitsuri was concerned, “Is he okay?”
“Uzui keeps offering to be our wedding planner because he thinks Sanemi is doing a bad job,” Giyuu said.
“And if it’s Genya, he better be sprinting into this room, he’s fucking late!”
“He’s a little stressed,” Giyuu added. He stepped aside to let Obanai and Mitsuri in anyway.
Sanemi was pacing around the kitchen, with his phone pressed to his ear, clearly on hold. He had an angry expression on his face, and all he said to Mitsuri and Obanai was, “Hey,” before he reached into the fridge and pulled out an energy drink. He popped it open with one hand and chugged half of it in one go.
“So, not doing well,” Mitsuri whispered to Obanai.
“What brings you by?” Giyuu asked. He sat at the island in the kitchen, and he reached out to squeeze Sanemi’s hand, now free of his energy drink. Sanemi leaned his forehead against the top of Giyuu’s head and mumbled, “I’m going to blow up the building.”
“We ordered a bunch of wedding invitations and they’re lost,” Giyuu explained. Sanemi groaned. Giyuu reached back to pet his hair. He looked between Obanai and Mitsuri, waiting for an explanation.
“This might be a bad time,” Mitsuri said aloud. Obanai couldn’t agree more. Sanemi was jittery, stressed out. Obanai always figured he would be, when it came time for his wedding. He was a bit of a control freak, and he wanted everything to be perfect—if not for his own sake, then certainly for Giyuu’s. He probably wouldn’t tell anyone else in the world, but Sanemi viewed the wedding as a trial for himself, to prove that he could handle difficult tasks and provide for his partner.
“It’s fine.” Sanemi hung up the phone and slammed it on the table. Mitsuri and Obanai both flinched, but Giyuu remained completely still, likely used to Sanemi’s stress levels. Sanemi looked between the couple, a fraction calmer. “What’s up?”
Wordlessly, Mitsuri handed over the cards. There was a blue one for Giyuu and a green one for Sanemi, both appropriately labelled—not that it mattered. They both said the same thing:
We have a little surprise for you . . .
You’re going to be uncles!
Kanroji Yutaka
Due September 2026
Sanemi and Giyuu both opened their cards with muted expressions. Sanemi didn’t even stand up straight, leaning most of his weight on Giyuu’s back, until he flipped open the card and saw the ultrasound picture taped to the inside.
“Holy shit!” Sanemi said. He abandoned the card and zipped around the counter to hug Mitsuri and Obanai. Giyuu was much calmer, as was typical of his character. He waited until Sanemi had let go of the couple to say, “Congratulations.”
“Dude, what the fuck?” Sanemi hugged Obanai again, clapping him on the back a few times. He looked at Mitsuri next. “How long have you been pregnant?”
“Almost three months,” Mitsuri said. She opened her jacket to show off her little baby bump. Giyuu finally stood up and peered over the counter to see it.
“No shit. Has he started kicking?” Sanemi asked, staring at the baby bump in wonder.
“Not yet,” Mitsuri said. She placed her hand over the bump and rubbed it softly. Obanai was obsessed with the bump; he kissed it every night, slept with his hand over it, felt so protective and so attached. He couldn’t wait to meet his son. Yutaka, his baby boy, soon to be the light of his life alongside his mother.
“I think I have a few more weeks before he starts kicking,” Mitsuri said. She couldn’t wait for the time to come for her to actually feel their baby boy. Obanai was equally as excited; he was certain both of them would cry.
“Fuck, man congratulations,” Sanemi said. Giyuu had come to stand by his side. He was looking at Mitsuri’s baby bump.
“You’ll make a great mother,” Giyuu said. He looked at Obanai next. The two of them had never been close, but he still paid Obanai a compliment, “And you’ll make a great father.”
“Wonder who he’s gonna look like,” Sanemi said.
“It would be cool if he had your eyes and your hair,” Giyuu said, looking at Obanai first, and Mitsuri next. Obanai had imagined the same thing—their baby boy with two different eyes and ombre hair, taking on his parents’ most striking features.
“Just hope he doesn’t get my lousy sight,” Obanai said, pointing to his yellow eye. He’d never been able to see much out of it, and it only got worse as the years passed.
“I’m sure he’ll get really strong genes from both of you,” Giyuu said kindly. Sanemi’s phone rang, then, and he rushed around the counter to answer it. His voice was firm and annoyed as he spoke to whoever was on the other line, but he left the room before any of them could hear what he was actually saying.
“I should probably make sure he keeps his blood pressure low,” Giyuu said. “Also, Genya will be here soon, and I’m sure Sanemi’s going to yell at him a bunch. Yutaka shouldn’t hear that.”
Giyuu walked Mitsuri and Obanai out, apologizing for the short-lived visit and congratulating them again.
“That means I’ll be pregnant at a wedding,” Mitsuri said in the car. She tilted her head back against the passenger seat and groaned. “That sucks.”
Sanemi and Giyuu were set to get married at around the seven-month mark of Mitsuri’s pregnancy.
“I’ll take care of you,” Obanai promised, massaging her neck to comfort her. She smiled, and she kissed his hand softly, “I know you will.”
5 – Uzui Tengen & The Baby Shower
Telling Tengen and his family of five—three wives and two little girls running around—also didn’t require any gimmicks or gifts. Mitsuri was already nearly four months along, and she felt terrible for not being able to meet Tengen in person to tell him until that point. Kyoujurou had even mentioned how hard it was not to slip up and tell Tengen accidentally; the two of them talked about everything, and almost every day, at that.
As soon as Suma opened the door, her eyes dropped to Mitsuri’s stomach, and she gasped so hard she alerted one of her wives, Makio.
“Oh my God!” Suma squealed. She pulled Mitsuri in a hug just in time for Makio to poke her head around the corner, a concerned frown on her face. She looked at Obanai, “What’s going on?”
Obanai just nodded at Mitsuri. He placed his hand on her back and prompted her to step around Suma so Makio could see her pregnant belly, as well. Makio dropped her book and rushed forward to give Mitsuri a hug, as well. The four of them were still standing in the doorway.
Of course, the heavy drop of Makio’s book caught the attention of Tengen and Hinatsuru. Tengen had both of his little girls in his arms. They weren’t twins, but they were very close in age because Suma and Hinatsuru got pregnant days apart. (Makio openly did not envy them and never wanted to actually be pregnant herself, though she was very happy to have children with her family.) Rukia, the younger of the two (by just a few weeks), was half-asleep and clutching her father’s shirt, while Yuna was babbling away about who-knows-what.
Suma couldn’t possibly contain herself enough to let Tengen and Hinatsuru figure out what was going on independently. She gestured frantically to the couple standing mostly-outside and cried, “Mitsuri is pregnant!”
“What?” Tengen yelled. Hinatsuru scolded him gently, taking the sleepy girl from Tengen’s arms—though she was smiling at the news. Suma took Yuna so Tengen was free to hug Mitsuri. Obanai pinched his wrist; “Be gentle” was his excuse, but they all knew how often he got on Tengen’s case for touching Mitsuri. It meant nothing; Tengen was simply the type to freely share his affection. He did that to everyone (Obanai himself was a frequent victim of Tengen’s shoulder massages), but Obanai couldn’t shake his jealousy, his possessiveness. And he didn’t need to, per Mitsuri’s enablement—the little blush on her cheeks when Obanai defended her, her late-in-the-night comments about how good she felt when Obanai protected her.
Besides, Tengen was wholly unphased. He finally invited both of them inside, ushering Mitsuri, as Obanai often did, to get off of her feet.
When the five of them were settled in the living room, Yuna squirmed out of Suma’s arms and made a beeline for Mitsuri. The little girl adored Mitsuri, reaching up to make grabby hands at her to be picked up. Obanai carefully supported the girl’s legs so Mitsuri wasn’t lifting her full weight, and he kept a watchful eye on Mitsuri’s stomach as the girl bounced on her lap. He knew Mitsuri was capable of taking care of herself and protecting their son, but he couldn’t help but worry.
As parents themselves, the Uzui family had the most questions—even more than the typical ‘Boy or girl? What’s his name? How far along are you?’
“How are you feeling?” Hinatsuru asked kindly.
“It’s not been too terrible,” Mitsuri said. She was downplaying her symptoms; she had been in quite a bit of pain the past few weeks, and she often got sick in the mornings. She felt terrible because she was eating way more than normal, and she had snapped at Obanai a few times for things as small and as simple as breathing too loud. But, these were all typical pregnancy symptoms that Obanai didn’t blame or reprimand her for. She always apologized right away, and it was more common than not for her to burst into tears after yelling at Obanai.
“My hormones are definitely acting up,” Mitsuri admitted. She leaned her head against Obanai’s shoulder. “But Obanai has been so sweet to me. He’s taking good care of me.”
“Awe,” Suma swooned. She smiled even harder when Mitsuri hugged Yuna, who was still babbling away and looking for affection from the woman. “You two are going to be such wonderful parents!”
Obanai wasn’t holding up well, seeing Mitsuri interact with the baby in her lap. He turned his head against her shoulder and faked like he was saying something to her, but he was wiping away his tears, overwhelmed by the thought and adjacent image of her with their son. He still had months to wait, and his impatience was quickly catching up to him.
“Do you need any help baby-proofing the place?” Suma asked next. “Or building anything in the baby room? Tengen built pretty much everything in our girls’ room, I’m sure he’d love to help!”
Tengen was very used to his wives volunteering him for various tasks, so he agreed without an ounce of protest. “I’m very handy.”
“That’s okay, that’s what Obanai’s up to these days!” Mitsuri said. “The room is turning out so beautiful. Obanai painted the walls purple and built this gorgeous little crib, it’s perfect!”
Obanai had also bought a large, comfortable chair for the room in case one or both of them wanted to sit in there with the baby. He had yet to build any shelves or other furniture; the two of them were still deciding what they wanted in the room and what would be safe for the baby. At the very least, they didn’t have to buy or build a dresser because the room had a walk-in closet already—one less thing they had to worry about being too sharp or heavy to be near Yutaka.
“How long is your maternity leave?” Makio asked.
“Actually, I’m going to stop working for a couple years.” Mitsuri had been hesitant to do so, not wanting the entire pressure of their financial situation on Obanai. The two of them had a long conversation about it, though, and ultimately decided they could easily pull through two, up to three, years of Mitsuri staying home with the baby. “We were thinking until he’s in school, I’d stay at home with him. I could probably find a job working from home, too, when he gets old enough to walk and eat by himself.”
“That’s a great idea!” Suma said. She’d done nearly the same, though she chose to stay at home indefinitely while all three of her partners went to work. “The first years are always the most important.”
“We almost made Tengen our house-husband,” Makio said. She tapped his shoulders a few times, teasing—her favorite thing to do to her husband. “But he makes the most money, so we let him keep working.”
“They treat me well,” Tengen said, laughing in time with his wives.
“Honey, can you put the girls down for a nap?” Hinatsuru asked, carefully transferring her sleeping daughter into Tengen’s arms. Yuna was a little more hyperactive, but she obediently climbed into her father’s arms when Suma told her it was time to take a nap with her sister.
“Bye-bye, Mrs. Mitsuri!” Yuna said, waving at Mitsuri over Tengen’s shoulder. “Bye-bye, Mr. Mitsuri!”
Yuna had yet to learn Obanai’s name, but he never corrected her. He just waved gently, mirroring Mitsuri’s farewell to the girl as Tengen walked out of the room with them.
“Do you need anything at all?” Hinatsuru asked. Mitsuri hadn’t taken anyone but Obanai up on their offers to help out—yet—but she did have an idea in mind for Tengen, one she was going to bring up at some point during their visit.
“Actually,” she started, glancing at Obanai. They both knew Tengen would love the idea, when it was presented to him. “We were hoping Tengen wouldn’t mind helping us host our baby shower.”
“Oh, he’s gonna die,” Makio said. Suma and Hinatsuru laughed with her, “He’ll be so happy!”
“We’ll control how many presents he brings,” Hinatsuru promised. “The girls’ room is overflowing with toys.”
“I’m sure Yutaka’s room is going to look the same. Obanai is going to spoil that little boy,” Mitsuri said. He couldn’t even deny it; he’d already begun researching the types of things he should be buying for their son to enhance his development. He couldn’t help it; he wanted to give Yutaka the childhood he’d never gotten.
“Alright!” Tengen loudly announced his presence, though he quickly softened his voice when Hinatsuru pressed her finger to her lips, a reminder that their daughters were sleeping or trying to sleep. “The girls are down. Anyone want some wine?”
“Tengen, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon,” Makio said. Suma gestured to Mitsuri, “And Mitsuri is pregnant.”
“Oh.” Tengen’s shoulders dropped. Obanai muttered to himself, “Airhead.”
“Come here, love,” Hinatsuru said, gesturing for Tengen to sit next to her again. “Mitsuri and Obanai have a favor to ask you.”
“Need my help building after all?” Tengen wrongly assumed, overflowing confidence in his voice.
“Actually, we’d really love your help with something else,” Mitsuri said. She sat up a little bit, running her hand over her stomach. “We want to host a baby shower for this little guy. And we were hoping you’d help us organize it.”
One thing about Tengen, he loved to be involved in the planning of anything—hence why he was so hellbent on getting Sanemi and Giyuu to let him help with their wedding. He always said he got addicted to the process because he got married three times, but Obanai (and, well, everyone) knew it was because he used to throw insane parties back in his college days. It was a part of his history that he tried (and failed) to bury.
“Oh my God.” Tengen was emotional immediately. Obanai briefly wondered to himself how he and Mitsuri had ended up with a group of such melodramatic friends.
“I’m so honored,” Tengen sobbed. Obanai glanced at Mitsuri, on the verge of saying something to embarrass Tengen, but Mitsuri gave him a strict look and shook her head, even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. So Obanai kept his mouth shut, and he turned his face against her shoulder again—this time, to stifle his laugh.
“I would love to help you!”
Obanai didn’t look up in time to duck out of the way of Tengen’s oncoming hug, so he was effectively crushed against his wife between Tengen’s strong arms. Obanai groaned; Mitsuri laughed; Tengen babbled about how he was going to organize a baby shower so incredible, it would be on the news.
“Doubtful,” Obanai mumbled. Mitsuri pinched his thigh.
“I have to make a few phone calls,” Tengen declared. He left the room abruptly. Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma had all been snickering, but they allowed their laughter to fill the room once Tengen had left.
“He might be the most dramatic person I know,” Obanai said, rubbing his arm. “Maybe second to Kyoujurou.”
“Explains why they’re such great friends,” Makio said. “Speaking of—you had to have told Kyoujurou already, right?”
“Months ago,” Mitsuri admitted.
“I can’t believe he kept it from Tengen this long,” Suma said. Obanai had been just as surprised; every day, he was expecting Kyoujurou to call begging for forgiveness because he let it slip, or for Tengen to call and complain about having to find out from Kyoujurou instead of the couple.
For the remainder of the couple’s visit to the Uzui home, they chatted with Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma—because Tengen was tearing through the house, much like Sanemi, making various phone calls and writing things down in a little notebook. Obanai couldn’t even begin to imagine who he was calling or what arrangements he was making. He started to worry Tengen was going to plan some elaborate party in another country—but, he had resigned to keep his hands off, a promise to Mitsuri. He had a wife and an unborn baby to worry about, anyway.
On their way out, Hinatsuru made the couple promise, “Seriously, if you two need anything else, anytime, please call us.”
“Yeah, one of us will come over to help,” Suma agreed. “We can send Tengen!”
“Please,” Obanai begged. “Do not send Tengen.”
All three women laughed. Mitsuri gave Obanai a fond look. She was emotional these days, more than usual, and her eyes teared up beneath Obanai’s gaze. Obanai kissed her cheek softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just so happy,” Mitsuri mumbled. “Yutaka will be so loved.”
“And you’ll be well taken care of,” Obanai said. He brushed her bangs away from her forehead for a moment to kiss her there. “I promise.”