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"Why are you here?"
Mary's voice was as cold as the December 1st morning air.
"Good morning to you too, mom."
Shuichi stared at his mother who was standing by the door. At mid-fifties, she still looked gorgeous. And cute. Especially with her white Ghibli sweater on.
He took one step forward and squinted at his mom's sweater. "Who's that one on Totoro's left?"
"It's Baron."
"Ah... the cat. I remember." His eyes lit up. "Jodie was laughing the whole time she was watching the film."
"How is she?" Mary asked, still blocking the doorway.
He didn't fail to see the very faint way how the corner of her lips curled upward. His mother's eyes may be bigger, but his are sharper.
Shuichi shivered as the wind blew. "I will tell you if you let me in first."
Mary stepped aside, giving room for him to set foot into the Akai's Japan family home. His mom and sister, Masumi, were still living in a hotel when his father, the same father of his two siblings, the husband of his mother, and the son-in-law of his grandparents resurrected from... whatever people wanted to call it—death or sleep or a two-decade holiday—didn't matter. Their long lost dad, Tsutomu, was back again.
They bought a house after a very intimate family dinner at a newly-opened British restaurant at Tokyo Tower as a welcome gift for him.
Shuichi looked around the house. It was huge and looked cozy and warm. At the corner of the living room stood a seven-foot tall Christmas tree and a ten-inch glittery star on top of it. Below were big boxes of gifts he wasn't sure if loaded or not.
"How's Jodie?" Mary asked again, sliding a plate of cinnamon rolls and a cup of coffee toward him.
"She's doing fine. And still in love with me," he answered proudly.
"You're lucky, then. Or maybe the girl's glasses need replacement," she deadpanned, sitting opposite him and lifting the cup of tea to her mouth. "So, why are you here, son? And why didn't you bring her with you?"
"My trip here is work-related. I'm not here for the holidays. And she's got a load of work in New York too."
Mary's expression darkened. "What did you infiltrate this time?"
"Nothing. Just an ordinary investigation."
"Good to hear that."
Shuichi took a bite of the soft bread, the sweet and spice washing away the bitter aftertaste of his coffee. He looked around. "Your house design looks a lot like our old England home, mom. And you're gonna be a grandma in six months."
Mary didn't answer, didn't blink, didn't move. It took her approximately fifty-five seconds before she sipped her tea again in a measured amount. The tree lights switched from red to gold, then gold to green. The song on the radio ended and another played. When the instrumental intro finished, she found her voice again.
"In June?"
"Yes. In June."
"It will... interfere with my birthday plans."
"Then I apologize in advance."
Mary nodded, accepting the apology the same way she had when Masumi broke her favorite tea cup a week ago.
Shuichi reached for another cinnamon roll. His mom squinted her eyes, and it seemed to him it wasn't because it was his fifth piece, but because she realized something. "You... are not wearing a wedding ring," she said.
He sniffed, not because of the cold. But because of the delightful aroma of the food that he needed to skip so he could answer his mother. "We're not married yet."
"You son of ...!" The Akai matriarch's voice rang inside the living room, so sharp that the dancing Santa Claus figurines became statues. "You knocked Jodie up without marrying her first?"
Shuichi stopped midway into biting the bread. Yeah... the food can wait. "Life happens, mom. Maybe it is time. And you wouldn't believe how much it changed our lives."
It had.
Three months ago, Shuichi had woken up one fine morning with Jodie staring at him with her big blue eyes. She was holding his hand against her chest under the sheets.
"Shu..." she whispered.
"Hmm?" he replied sleepily.
She squeezed his hand. "I... I might have to stop buying sanitary pads by next month."
He blinked. Once, twice, then smiled. "That's good. Saves us money. You kept buying every month even though you have two drawers full."
"And you kept buying black shirts even though you already own fifty-one pieces in total. Your shirts are more expensive than my sanitary pads," Jodie shot back.
Which, of course, didn't annoy him at all. He smiled again, one in between a smirk and a grin. He got the feeling she would release his hand and turn her back on him. So he reacted quickly, reaching for her waist and pulling her closer.
"I know what you're implying, Jodie. Yes... last night was the first time in a long time that we slept together without protection. But I think the chances are too low, considering you're—"
"I haven't been on contraceptives for half a year now."
He sighed, just inwardly, afraid she might take it negatively if he did otherwise. "Then... the chances are high."
"What do we do?"
"I don't know."
Indeed, he hadn't. But not a month later, when he found himself staring at five tiny, rectangular white objects with two red lines shown on each. And a day after that, when he stood holding a medical report, his eyes fixed on the words four weeks.
The first thing he did was grab his laptop and type into the search bar how a pregnancy looked at four weeks. He was amazed at how tiny it looked and caught himself wondering: Did all humans really start out like this?
Since then, he spent more time on his laptop, researching a healthy diet for expecting mothers, exercises they could do to help make birthing easier but without harming the unborn child, what questions to avoid asking so as not to trigger their drama queen mode, and how a partner could fake sleep when awakened by a 2:00 a.m. strawberry ice cream craving.
Shuichi had told himself to take everything easy. Yet, he didn't expect that the thought of becoming a father was far more adrenaline-pumping than pulling the trigger of his sniper rifle to take an enemy down.
By the second month of Jodie's pregnancy, he had already done a lot. The guest room had been turned into a nursery, with Shuichi painting the walls himself. He had bought a crib and a rocker, which he meticulously checked every detail with sniper-like precision and even researched about the manufacturing companies. He switched from polishing his rifle to reading pregnancy books and magazines in his free time.
He had been told—warned, rather—by fellow agents that he must prepare for a war, one that didn't require his predatory or sniping skills at all. One agent said his wife had him sleep in the living room for three nights for eating her leftover sandwich. Another one said his partner didn't speak to him for a week after he commented about her weight. And one said his fiancée threatened to call off the engagement if he didn't return her coffee mug that he had hidden.
Well... it turned out that not all expecting mothers were the same. Contrary to his colleagues' hormonal war tales, Jodie had grown surprisingly sweeter, often seeking cuddles from him. She also negotiated when he banned her from certain things. When he said she had to avoid coffee throughout the pregnancy, she asked him to allow her one cup in the morning. When he told her she had to refrain from playing video games because she got annoyed (and fell into depression) when she lost, she asked him to let her play at least one hour on weekends, and to stay beside her so she'd have someone to avenge her in the second round.
Mary looked at him, smiling. Just a little. "So, she's not a whirlwind? That's good if she behaves very nicely toward you, son. But I wonder if you deserve that kind of treatment at all."
"Mom..." Shuichi wanted to counterattack and say he did, but instead, he reached for another piece of cinnamon roll. It was his twentieth. "How... how does giving birth feel like?"
There was no lemon slice on Mary's tea, but her face turned sour. She looked at her son and remembered one of the most fulfilling yet agonizing episodes of her life from three and a half decades ago. "Shuichi," she began. "It's... unimaginably painful. If you'd ask me, the laboring part is the worst, precisely the period where the baby is only a few minutes away from coming out. I remember how your father trembled when he caressed your hair, not because he was overwhelmed, but because I twisted and broke some of his fingers. He was thoughtful enough not to let go of me all the way."
Shuichi looked at his hands, dreadfully imagining how he could hold a weapon with disfigured fingers. He swallowed, a huge lump of bread sliding through his throat. He tried to smile. "Don't scare me, mom."
"Oh? Since when has such a word been in your vocabulary?"
"Just now."
"I'm just trying to be helpful by telling you what could possibly be there in store for you, so you could be prepared," Mary said, sounding every bit motherly to him. "You know... pushing a human being is not just like flushing poop out of your body. Expelling feces only needs little use of the abdominal muscles, while giving birth requires a whole symphony of muscles. It's far more enduring and forceful."
"You sound like a doctor lecturing," Shuichi said.
"I speak from experience, kid. I'd given birth three times," Mary replied, her inborn serious expression turning even more serious as she continued. "Make sure you'll be there for her. It will help a lot."
Shuichi hesitated for a moment, picking another cinnamon roll. "I once had to borrow her laptop because mine broke. And..."
Mary blinked. "And?"
"I saw something from her search history: How not to murder your partner while experiencing labor pain," he said, his chest now pounding in terror.
"Then you're... in grave danger. Be careful," Mary answered, unfazed, her eyes narrowing at the plate of cinnamon roll instead. "You... you almost ate all of it. Oh Gods, I haven't eaten a single piece."
Shuichi licked his fingers. "There are two pieces remaining, mom. You can eat them. I'm not taking another bite because, to be honest, it's not that tasty. The bread is coarse, I can't taste the cinnamon, it's too sweet, and..."
Mary stood up, her fists clenching on her sides. "The nerve! How dare you criticize my baked goods when you've eaten twenty-eight out of thirty pieces of it?!"
Before his mother gave him a taste of her MI6 moves, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and flew toward the door, leaving an echoing "Bye, mom. See you again soon."
Back in New York, he was welcomed by Jodie at the apartment door. She was wearing a thick robe, and under it was one of his shirts again, too large for her but not large enough to hide her slightly protruding belly.
"Welcome home, Daddy!" Jodie greeted, her bright voice warming the cold winter atmosphere.
He walked toward her and bent down to kiss her belly, then her cheek, then her head. "How are you two? Everything's fine?"
"Yes..."
Later that night, Shuichi fell asleep on Jodie's lap, his cheek pressed against the warmth of her belly. When he woke up, he was not in their bedroom. His nose wrinkled at the strong smell of antiseptics. Everyone around him wore surgical gowns, masks, and scrub caps. He winced, hearing a muffled wail accompanied by a strong pressure around his fingers.
He looked down and saw his girlfriend in a star-printed light blue gown, lying on the delivery bed, head reclined and legs outstretched. Her belly was fully round.
Shuichi blinked. He remembered falling asleep on her lap just last night. But then he remembered as well that within that short amount of time, he had prepared everything for the birth of his first child. The baby stuff was complete and in enormous amounts; onesies alone almost filled half of the cabinet. The apartment was cleaned and disinfected thoroughly, Jodie's maternity clothes were kept and replaced with comfy shirts and pajamas, and the kitchen was loaded with food, including lactation cookies.
He smiled. Perhaps he had been so excited to hold a tiny human being in his arms that six months had gone by in a blink of an eye.
He bent down. With his free hand he tucked the strands of hair behind her ear and wiped the sweat from her forehead. He kissed her brow gently and whispered, "You can do it."
Jodie shut her eyes, squeezed his hand like it was an enemy she wanted to crush, and let out another muffled wail. When she opened her eyes again, she shot him a glare deadlier than his. "I hate you."
He chuckled. "I'm sorry. Go on, you can break my fingers, but please, don't kill me."
"I hate you..."
"I love you too."
The doctor then positioned herself in front of Jodie, with some nurses assisting her. One of them put a chair behind him and said, "Sir, you can sit here if you feel like fainting." He looked at the nurse and just nodded.
He didn't remember how many times the doctor said the word push, but he was sure Jodie had cursed him at least five times, blaming him for impregnating her and threatening never to let him lay with her again. And she continued to speak, ignoring the chuckles and suppressed laughter around her.
"If the baby comes out looking like you, Shuichi Akai, I swear I will never forgive you and your genes. He must look like me."
"Jodie..."
"I carried him for nine months. I have been suffering excruciating labor pain for twelve hours now."
"Jodie..."
"It's unfair if he looks like you. That can't be. I swear..."
Jodie took a deep breath, and with a final squeeze on his hand that sealed the fate of his skillful fingers, a new life began. Her wailing had stopped, replaced by a tinier, sharper one.
The doctor looked at the new parents and smiled behind her surgical mask. "Congratulations. You have a bouncing baby boy. Black hair. Small, Asian-looking eyes."
"Oh Gods..." the new mother cried.
Shuichi looked at his son in awe. He was so small and fragile and crying, he wanted to ask if they were holding his baby the right way.
He turned to Jodie before he couldn't help but interrogate the doctor and nurses on the spot. "Hey. You did it. I'm proud of you."
"The pain is gone. I don't hate you now..." she smiled, exhausted but eyes beaming with joy.
He inched closer and kissed her forehead. "I know."
They watched as the nurses took care of their baby, but his continuous crying made him worried. "Why won't he stop crying?" he asked, unable to hold himself.
"Because he's alive. It's a good sign," one nurse answered.
"It's alright," another one chimed in. "He just needs a little cleaning, and he's ready to be fed. Then he will stop crying."
He looked at Jodie, who nodded at her reassuringly.
***
"Hey, buddy. You know, I think I'm starting to hate you. You're taking too much of Mommy's attention and time that I'm barely left with any. That's just so unfair. She was mine first before she became yours," Shuichi said to the little man lying on the bed beside him, his lips pouting dramatically.
Their baby, now three months old and continued to grow as Shuichi's carbon copy, stared back at his father, uttering his own language in response. He flapped his tiny hands, feet kicking in the air. He was so adorable. Except that his dad was right. Ever since he was born, Shuichi felt that Jodie had forgotten she had a partner wanting some cuddles too.
Jodie spent most of the time taking care of their little bundle of joy, though sometimes Shuichi took turns. After he had put him to sleep in the nursery, he would trot toward their bed excitedly, only to find Jodie already drifting to slumber wonderland. He would try waking her up sometimes, only to resign himself to his fate of sleeping again with unfulfilled dreams.
A month after giving birth, Jodie had told him she had meant it when she said she'd never allow him to lay with her again. She had said the agonizing labor pain she'd been through still haunted her even in her dreams and that she never wanted to feel that again. He brushed her off, thinking she was just kidding, that it was all some byproduct of lingering hormones which would vanish sooner or later.
Then, two months had passed, and she still stood firm by her words. Or maybe she was just really dedicated to being a mother that most of the time it consumed her energy. She'd rather sleep than enjoy some quality time with him, that was what Shuichi had realized.
And... he couldn't stand it. Not any longer.
So when their baby fell asleep and he found Jodie lying in bed, still awake with her eyes half-closed, he took the chance.
He hopped into the bed, deliberately as close to her as he could.
"Jodie..."
"Hmm?"
"It has been three months," he said, pointing each word out.
"Yeah..." she replied sleepily. "Time flies fast. He's getting bigger and a lot like you every day. I never imagined he could bring such happiness to us."
"Jodie..."
"What?"
He studied her. Her eyelids were drooping, though she was clearly trying to keep them open as she waited for his answer. Shuichi didn't waste any more time hesitating. "I want to kiss you right now."
"Just kiss?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
He turned and propped himself on top of her. "Jodie!"
"Don't... shout at me. I can... hear you."
"Okay. I'm sorry."
She nodded. "Fine. You can kiss me."
And of course, it wasn't just a kiss he wanted.
Later, Shuichi lay back, resting his head against the pillow, sweaty hair sticking on his forehead. He pulled Jodie toward him, caging her in. He remembered raining kisses on her head before sleep claimed him.
He had only been asleep for a few hours when Jodie woke him. She was staring at him with her big blue eyes, a familiar scene from a year ago.
"Shu... did you... Last night, did you..." she stammered.
Shuichi blinked. "Haven't you been taking pills? You know... that thing that helps with hormonal treatment and heavy periods?"
Jodie sighed. "No. I had experienced side effects so I stopped completely after just one week. That was two months ago."
"Oh man," he said. He realized she may have been exhausted and lacking sleep that she had actually fallen asleep last night before he finished.
Jodie glared at him. He didn't know what else to say. And the familiar look in her eyes three months ago didn't help at all.
"Well... don't you think it's your fault? For falling in love with a... sharpshooter?"
"Shuichi Akai!"