Chapter Text
Being the younger brother, Ritsuka never thought about having someone younger than him in his family. He has no close cousin and his main figure has always been his sister, of four years older, if not his admired bandmates. The first person Ritsuka really wanted to take care of was his lover, first man of his life and probably the last, after these years spent together in music and happiness. Apart from Mafuyu, Ritsuka isn’t confident that he can take care of anyone, especially not someone as fragile as… The baby that just got shoved in his arms.
“Also, I put a second bib in her bag in case she throws up after eating,” Yayoi adds to the very long list of things not to forget.
“Uh… Okay,” he says.
“Don’t be so stiff, you’re gonna get even more wrinkles than me,” she chuckles. “You’ll be fine, it’s only for a few hours.”
“Yeah…”
“And Mafuyu will help you. Koji and I will be back around seven, but you can call us anytime if you have some trouble. Hey, are you okay?”
Ritsuka stands like a tree in the entrance, his arms around the tiny human being so stiff he could never let her drop. Yayoi leans a little closer, shakes her hand in front of his face, making sure he’s fully awake. He is. It requires a lot of focus to remember every single indication Yayoi just gave while having the subject of the lecture in his arms.
“I’m alright,” Ritsuka answers, his throat a little stuck. “I can handle this. It’s just a baby.”
“Great.” Yayoi caresses the face of her baby with the back of her hand and kisses her forehead lightly. “Have fun with Uncle Ritsuka, Mucchan. See you!”
She turns around, leaves the apartment, and shuts the door on a pale Ritsuka. Information spin in his mind; the diapers, the baby bottle, the changing clothes, the mashed vegetables, the bibs in the bag. Only the gabbling he hears can pull him out of his thoughts. Against him, Mutsuki is trying to catch one of the buttons of his shirts, whining because she can’t quite put it between her fingers. Her round, shiny eyes are squinted on one particular button. Ritsuka’s shoulders relax as she keeps playing in her own world.
It cannot be this bad to have a baby at home. Babies do nothing more than eat and sleep all the time. As long as you give them what they want and change them on time, they won’t cry. Ritsuka has handled lots of stressful situations in his life. A seventy centimetre mass shouldn’t be troublesome. The place is quiet and peaceful, the tension of every commission he has to finish long forgotten. His day off can now be brightened by the baby in his arms, who will never ask him for more than what he can give. Her weight is exactly what he needed to feel grounded, just as much as her cute face sends him in the clouds.
He almost gives Mutsuki a smile, the appeasement on her face contagious. She radiates, her eyes stuck on the button and her voice inconsistent in her whining. The moment Ritsuka finally manages to comfort himself, the front door opens abruptly and a dog barks.
The sudden noise alerts Mutsuki. She freezes, gasps, eyes widening in one second. And starts crying.
“Wha—What are you doing just in front of the door?” He’s called out.
Ritsuka can’t answer his partner right away. Panic surges in him, and he should know that Mutsuki can also feel it, but hearing the distress prevents him from thinking twice. He stretches his arms, moves them up and down, in any way possible to find a more comfortable position for Mutsuki, spilling her tears and spreading her cry around the room. Her voice doesn't calm down even as he tries to grab her under the arms, make her fly, drum on her back, give her gentle words, and he has no idea how to calm a baby. Because she wasn’t supposed to cry at all today. The twisted expression, drowning in tears, is disturbing Ritsuka. He’s been holding her for three minutes and is already loses all his means, in front of a confused Mafuyu.
Kedama barks at Ritsuka’s feet again, as if the first hit wasn't enough to startle the entire building. The white dog looks as smug as usual, tail shaking in contentment after his walk.
“Dammit, she won’t calm down if you keep Kedama here!” Ritsuka complains, still swaying Mutsuki on his side.
“Uh? He didn’t do anything…”
“Mafuyu, get him somewhere else! He’s scaring her!”
The moment Ritsuka spits these words, sees Mafuyu’s frown, the slight offence showing between his brows, he regrets them. But through Mutsuki’s incessant crying and the new interruption of the dog, he doesn’t find the words to correct himself. Mafuyu bends down to take Kedama in his arms and walks past Ritsuka, disappearing in his bedroom. His steps sound dry on the parquet floor and Ritsuka knows this cadence by heart. He sighs.
Right when the entrance falls silent again, Mutsuki follows, and stops crying. Ritsuka glares at the baby, going innocent again, the post-tears hiccups replacing her complaints.
“Are you serious? You cried because of a dog?”
“Da-da.”
“I’m not surviving today…”
As the situation is in control again, Ritsuka starts remembering Yayoi’s list and that among all the advices, figured leaving Mutsuki wander through the house. Yayoi is careful to the point that she went through the apartment to make sure nothing dangerous hauled on the floor. For a moment, Ritsuka felt like he was still a sixteen year-old boy scared that his sister would find anything compromising under his bed. Not that Yayoi would have found. Ritsuka never had anything to hide. Not under his bed, at least.
Carefully, he lays Mutsuki on her belly on the floor, hesitant at first, but reassured when he notices how excited she looks about it. She is already aiming for the little toy among the others that her mom left. She uses her arms, forces her muscles to pull forward, and crawls until she can reach it. She ends up grabbing the rattle with her strongest grip, her eyes squinting on it as if she discovered it for the first time. Mutsuki analyses the toy, bang it on the floor, meanwhile Ritsuka wants to bang his head on the wall for accepting this mission. No, for having offered this mission for his sister, without asking for anything in return.
He finds himself sat on the floor next to his niece, already overwhelmed by the minuscule presence testing the rattle’s capacities. Mutsuki has dark hair and her mom’s eyes, full of a determination shared with Ritsuka. Growing older, he lost some of his delicate features that got people to compare him to his sister, but Haruki-san keeps saying that they’re alike in many ways. He doesn’t understand what it means. It has been a long time since he doesn’t live with Yayoi anymore—she left the house a year after his graduation, moving in with Take-san. No one would have imagined that their relationship would have lasted this long, if not forever, and lead to a marriage and a baby at thirty-two years old. When they attended the wedding, Ritsuka thought for a moment how nice it must have been to slide a ring on the finger of the person you love.
“Uenoyama-kun? Are you calmed down, now?”
As if he heard his thoughts, Mafuyu appeared in front of him, crouched down carefully. When he smiles, it has the power to erase all the concerns and questioning in Ritsuka’s head. He observes him, probably waiting for a better reaction than just opening his mouth with no sound out.
“Yeah”, he finally breathes out, the guilt in his lungs disappearing as soon as he talks to his boyfriend. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”
“It’s okay,” Mafuyu says. “Mucchan can be unsettling.”
“That’s the word,” Ritsuka chuckles, more desperate than amused.
Indeed, he is unsettled either by her sudden crying, or by her secret smiles, able to fill one’s heart with a pure joy. The innocence of his niece is something he would like to protect at all costs, even though it’s not a feeling he could verbalise. It’s like by simply existing, Mutsuki gives all her surroundings a mission that can’t be failed. The reward is an achievement, but the scary counterpart, no one really wants to think about it.
“Why did you offer to babysit Mucchan? You care about your days off.”
“I know, but… Since she gave birth, Yayoi barely had any time with Take-san, or even for herself. I thought it was only fair that she could get some rest after six months with no break.”
Instead of answering, Mafuyu chuckles lightly, his smile widening. The mystery in his reactions remains the same since high school, and after all this time, the telepathy between these two is still lagging.
“What?”
“You’re a really nice guy, Uenoyama-kun.”
Ritsuka never knows what to say after this compliment or rather, after any compliment from Mafuyu. Does he have to thank him? To deny? No, that would be rude. He always cares about how Mafuyu will receive his words and worries about the message not coming out right. Sometimes his voice sounds rougher than intended, his words are sharper than how he thought them, and his face shows nothing but annoyance. And yet, at the end, Mafuyu smiles the same, as if he had a filter covering his eyes.
Ritsuka pats Mutsuki’s back still focused on her toy, to divert attention.
“I don’t think I’m suitable to take care of a baby like that, at the end…”
He is convinced by his own words, as he watches the baby’s cluelessness on the floor. He doesn’t notice Mafuyu’s beginning of answer, even though it sounds offended. His attention shifts to the dangerous – little, adorable, and innocent – dog coming back from the bedroom with hasty steps.
“Shit, he’s going to scare her again!”
Ritsuka is about to grab Mutsuki to get her far from Kedama’s reach, but a hand on his arm stops him.
“Shh, don’t panic. Just watch.”
He would like to relax under Mafuyu’s touch and to trust him, but seeing Kedama coming so close to the baby after he startled her earlier doesn’t comfort him. He stills anyway, watching the scene carefully. Kedama’s steps slow down when he is closer, Mutsuki lifts her head to stare at him. She’s got the same curiosity as when she meets someone new, blinking on the animal, her mouth forever open and drooling, staring endlessly. Ritsuka is ready to act as a shield at any dubious movement, his hand hovering over her back, the good uncle always to her rescue.
Kedama shakes his tail again, and leans down to smell Mutsuki’s hair. Ritsuka’s heart jumps out of his throat.
“He’s gonna—”
“Uenoyama-kun, calm down. You’re the only one getting anxious now. Just look at them…”
Mafuyu’s soothing voice has a positive effect on his body, like a medicine no one else has access to, that no one else could be healed with. A few words coming from him are enough for Ritsuka to focus more on the interaction between the two little people. This time, when Kedama barks, Mutsuki gets startled, but doesn’t cry. Instead, she tries to answer with her own language.
“Da-da?”
“Waf!”
“Da-da daa!”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Mafuyu laughs. “They probably introduced themselves.”
When Mutsuki lifts her hand to touch Kedama’s nose, it confirms Mafuyu’s assumption. This must be the little version of a handshake, between a dog and a baby who just met. Ritsuka releases a sigh he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders slumping down after all the fear he had when seeing these two interacting. He’s even surprised by himself to be happy about them getting along; but if Kedama is like his son, it’s only natural that he wants them to be friends.
“See? I told you it was okay.”
“I can’t believe I’m the one who caused troubles earlier…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Mafuyu assures, his hand now firmer on Ritsuka’s arm. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm.”
“Since when are you so good at this, by the way?”
Mafuyu’s brows lift, his eyes losing focus for a second, as he hums in reflection. Then he smiles at his lover again, innocent, with a laugh as sweet as annoying.
“I spend more time with Yayoi-san than you, lately!”
Ritsuka rolls his eyes with a small grunt. He can’t admit that he has been so busy the past weeks – months – that Mafuyu has been more help to Yayoi than himself. He was glad that they become friends until Mafuyu replaced him as a brother for her. At least, one of them here knows how to handle a baby, and that comforts Ritsuka.
As his worries dismissed, he pats Mafuyu’s head, tousling his red hair to a mess. Usually, it tames Mafuyu’s smugness a little.
“Alright, professional babysitter,” he says, getting up from the floor. “It’s time for her snack. I’m going to prepare her milk.”
“Do you know how to do it?”
“Yayoi told me everything. It can’t be that hard.”
When Ritsuka finds himself in front of the billion explanations on the box of milk powder, he regrets the confident words he threw without thinking. He opens the box and grabs the spoon inside, the baby bottle in his other hand. He stares at the instructions, because Yayoi told him earlier how everything was explained on the box. The steps are supposed to be clear but again, he loses all his means.
What if he messes up the dose? Is it like failing the dose of a medicine? Is she going to be poisoned if there is too much powder? Is she going to choke and need an ambulance? What if she throws up because it’s tasteless? Does this thing taste good? Does this thing even taste like anything? He hates himself for acting so arrogant about this.
“How is it?”
He was so stuck into his spiral that he didn’t hear Mafuyu coming in the kitchen behind him. When he looks back, his heartbeat hitches immediately. The sight of his partner holding the baby on his side, like a man who has done this all his life, is hard to handle. And if Mutsuki looks like her mom, that means she also looks a little like Ritsuka, and he can’t help thinking that it’s almost as if he and Mafuyu were both Mutsuki’s…
“Uenoyama-kun? You’re all red,” Mafuyu notices.
“What?! No! I’m… Trying to figure this shit out”, he complains, his voice a bit cracked.
Mafuyu frowns a little, and covers Mutsuki’s ear, holding her tighter. Mutsuki laughs against his chest, as if she could see through Ritsuka’s body and mock how he is melting from the inside.
“Don’t swear.”
The scolding tone never erases his softness. The way Mafuyu cuddles her, his hand delicate on the side of her head, shielding her like it’s his own daughter—it pierces Ritsuka’s heart at least a hundred times.
“Sh—Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m sure Yayoi said I have to pour water in first, then put the milk and heat it in the microwave.”
“She showed me once,” Mafuyu indicates, walking closer to the table to see the box too. “Ah, it looks like the label is messed up, we can’t see the doses right…”
“That’s the problem. But I’m sure she told me it was two hundred millilitres of water for seven cups of milk powder.”
“You’re sure? You don’t want me to Google it?”
“One hundred percent sure,” Ritsuka affirms, finding his pride back as soon as he has to brag in front of his lover. “I’m good with numbers.”
“I’m better than you.”
“You studied art.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mafuyu gasps. “I was in the science track in high school too.”
“Yeah, but I pursued in this field while you changed of paths.”
“I was better than you,” Mafuyu insists. “You had summer cram every ye—”
Mutsuki’s hand lands on Mafuyu’s cheek. She slaps him gently, as if wanting to stop the silly argument. She succeds, as they both go silent, startled by the timing of her movement. This time, Ritsuka’s smile gets smugger if that’s even possible.
“Two hundred millilitres and seven cups of milk powder.”
Mafuyu pouts a little, glaring at the baby for her unashamed violence. No matter how childish their interactions look, Ritsuka is enjoying the show, so much that his act drops just as quick as it started. It’s impossible to pretend being superior or better, when the slight cheek puffing from Mafuyu is all it takes for Ritsuka to soften. Without thinking, he leans closer, kisses Mafuyu’s cheek, then goes back to his dosage.
“I’ve got this.”
He may have missed Mafuyu’s reaction after that kiss, as his focus goes to the baby bottle again. If he trusts his intuition, he has to pour water until the right step indicated on the glass bottle. Yayoi’s carefulness isn’t surprising, she said she doesn’t trust the brand of water they use. Ritsuka didn’t get it—he uses a very regular water. Then he fills the cup with milk powder and scrapes it under the rim of the box, before he throws it in the water, creating a fascinating smoke inside. Under Mafuyu’s gaze—and Mutsuki’s, he gives his best to make the baby’s food a treat. He repeats the same gesture seven times, slow, precise, focused to please Mutsuki.
Ritsuka lists his sister’s instructions again in his mind, since he already forgot the next step.
“You have to—”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you know,” Mafuyu notices, and as if confirming his words, Mutsuki on his side shakes her noisy rattle.
“I have to shake the bottle.”
It’s inspiring to look at the baby while making her milk. He executes right after, rolling the bottle between his palms like he remembers he saw Yayoi do once. But as he thinks he is deep in the success, Mutsuki is whining again. Her ability to shed tears so quickly is amazing, and whenever she does, it’s like all what they’re doing is wrong.
“What—Why is she crying?! Is it not like that?”
“It is,” Mafuyu answers. Even he is a bit confused for once. “I think… She is crying because she wants it right away. It’s okay, Mucchan, you’ll have it very soon.”
“Ah, uh, yeah! I’m heating it and it’s all yours, Mutsuki!”
Even though it’s only a few meters to the microwave, Ritsuka has to run towards it. He has never slapped its door so hard, when he is the one telling Mafuyu not to be too rough with it. It’s an expensive microwave that he wants to take care of, but Mutsuki’s needs overcome any material. She is the princess of this place as long as she is here, in their arms, on the floor, sleeping or eating, and she becomes the goddess at the first tears she shows.
Mafuyu’s hands around her look comfortable, natural, and her complaining voice seems familiar to him. When he starts humming for her, Ritsuka wishes he had his phone in his pocket, just to record a snippet of Mafuyu with a baby in his arms. Ritsuka never thought, never imagined how endearing this sight could ever be, and now he finds himself frozen by the simple dream of owning a kid with the man of his life.
“Uenoyama-kun, hurry up, it’s done!” Mafuyu calls out.
The beep of the microwave jolts him off his thoughts. In one second, he turns back, grabs the hot bottle, and shakes it more to make sure the mix is great. Mutsuki cries louder at the sight of her tempting meal waiting for her.
“I think it’s too hot.”
“I’ll try to distract her with Kedama,” Mafuyu nods.
“Watch them closely!”
“You hear this, Mucchan? Uncle Ritsuka worries a lot for you,” he laughs.
Uncle Ritsuka cannot get grumpy at the joke and Uncle Ritsuka cannot hold Mafuyu’s gaze anymore because this nickname stirred something in his stomach that forbid him to pronounce a single word. His hands get burn with the baby bottle just as his cheeks flare up after Mafuyu’s sweet appellation. Haruki-san, Yayoi and even Take-san love teasing him with this, but from Mafuyu?
It sounds like the loveliest name he could have been given.
He can’t believe that at twenty-eight, his heart still skips a beat whenever he hears his first name from his lover, or whenever he simply says the most random comment about him. Mafuyu could insult his whole family tree and it would still sound right, with the melodious voice and the innocent smile.