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The clock was still ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. It felt wrong that it hadn’t stopped. It felt like it should have. The room kept moving, lively. People talked, laughed, uttered congratulations when she herself couldn’t bring herself to. Her fingers were locked around nothing, knuckles buzzing as her mind spun. The words repeated themselves in her mind like a mistake that couldn’t be erased.
“I’m pregnant” Hioki had said, a smile glistening on her sun-kissed face as the room went up in cheers.
She should have been happy for Hioki. They had been best friends since they were teenagers. Instead all she could feel was something bitter and ugly crawling up her throat and she hated that she knew what it was. Envy. That was supposed to be her. Not standing here, watching. Not smiling, acting like it didn’t hurt. Not clapping while someone else was getting the life she wanted. Sachiyo had always dreamed of having children, of being a mother and having a family. She could still vividly remember when she had received the news that ensured she was never going to see those dreams come true. Sachiyo was infertile. The pain and grief had burned in her heart for months, causing her to cry for nights. Now here she stood, nothing but discontent. But she also felt great shame. She lowered her gaze to the floor, as if maybe the feeling could be visible to her, beneath her. Sachiyo searched deep for pride, for the happiness everyone else surrounding her displayed. But she found nothing. Just boiling spite remoulding to indignity. Ah, she clicked her teeth, adjusting her glasses. What a wicked feeling.
-
Sachiyo sat on the edge of her couch, staring at the recently-sent ultrasound Hioki just messaged her. Her phone shook in her hand as if more than just an inanimate object. She took in the photo, the curve of the small head, the flicker of a hand- tiny and delicate but most importantly real. She wanted to look away, wanted to throw her phone at the wall and pretend she’d never seen the thing. But she just couldn’t. She imagined Hioki smiling, the feel of what a kick could feel like, what a craving would feel like. It created a knot of longing and sharpness choked her. It wasn’t hatred, she could never let it be. It was more like a shadow haunting her, like a bad day refusing to turn good. Her glasses were slightly dirty. I should clean them. Questions clouded her mind, questions that kept her up at night and gripped her like a vice. What if things had been different? What if instead of Hioki, it was her holding such a treasure? How it pained her to admit to herself that she wished it was.
-
She found herself imagining mornings she herself would never know. The weight of a child against her chest, the tiny fingers wrapping around her extended finger, the light laughter that would envelope the atmosphere. Hioki’s voice drifted into her head, thoughts of names and nursery plans, it was like a sting she couldn’t shake, a sharp reminder of what couldn’t be hers. Yet the thought couldn’t leave her, what if it could be hers? What if that dream could be her reality one day? The thoughts lingers as a silent, constant tug, daring her to imagine what could be. Sachiyo told herself it was just curiosity and longing, nothing serious or wrong. It was harmless.
-
Sachiyo had found herself in the baby section of her local clothing store. Her eye catches on a blanket neatly folded on a shelf. It’s soft, cream- no real pattern. Practical. Sensible. The type of thing that anyone would appreciate being gifted even if they didn’t ask for it. Hioki’s baby would benefit from a blanket when they come. It now sat on the cabinet of her bedroom, still wrapped, still innocent. The apartment felt different with it sitting there. Quiet and expectant. Later into the night, she finds herself browsing a website she’s visited many times before, usually with a hollow aching feeling and a quick leave. This time she lingers, noticing things. Noticing measures, safety ratings, placements. Sachiyo imagines rearranging furniture- not much to impact but enough to create space. Her phone lights at her side. It’s Hioki: Doctor says everything is perfect.
She sets the phone face-down. Her gaze drifts back to the blanket. For a moment, she imagines it washed, worn soft with use. Imagines knowing exactly how to fold it without thinking. Someone should be prepared, she thinks. The thought felt responsible. Almost kind.
-
Hioki’s bump had grown larger since the last time they’d met. Sachiyo unconsciously touched her own stomach, imagining the feel of a bump. She cradled her tea cup like it was fragile enough to spill her nerves.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” she said, trying to act casual.
“I still can’t believe it,” Hioki said, eyes bright. “I keep imagining holding her, just knowing she’s mine…” But Hioki’s eyes flickered with something uncertain.
“But…I’m worried. I’m scared that I won’t be good enough for my daughter…” Hioki was no longer smiling but had a face clouded by doubt. “What if I mess them up? What if I don’t bond right away, or I resent how everything changes?”
Sachiyo smiled, though it was tight and didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’ll be a great mother Hio’, she’ll be amazing…just like you. You’re already worrying. That…means you care.” Sachiyo could hear the practice in her own voice.
Hioki smiled with relief, eyes shining.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” She reaches across the table, squeezing her hand.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
-
The click clack of Sachiyo’s keyboard rang out in her office. Click clack click clack. She’s nervous. Her glasses caught the line of her laptop screen in the dark room. I wouldn’t be. She stopped her scrolling at the picture of a stuffed teddy bear. A child would like a plushie to grow up with. Sachiyo ordered one to be delivered in a few days. She leaned back, away from the laptop. Hioki isn’t fit to be a mother. She said so herself. Sachiyo switched to the tab, filled with baby names. The baby deserves someone who will never fail it. Someone who knows what they want. Someone prepared. I could be that prepared. Her scrolling ceased. She stared at the name that caught her eyes. Kyo. She smiled, What a beautiful name.
-
“I brought prenatal vitamins,” she said, setting the bottle down on the kitchen counter. “You should take one with lunch.”
Hioki waved her off with a small laugh. “I got it, really. You don’t have to-”
“No, no,” she interrupted, leaning closer, hand brushing the curve of Hioki’s pregnant stomach. She felt Hioki tense under her fingertips. “It’s important. We need to be careful. This stage is-...well, delicate.”
Hioki’s smile faltered, “We? You mean me.”
Sachiyo froze for a moment, the words tasting wrong in her mouth. She forced a casual shrug. “Right. Slip of the word, I mean you” she added, “I just want to make sure we do everything right. You can’t be careless. Not now” Not while you’re carrying little Kyo.
-
Hioki was in the bathroom. Sachiyo found herself lingering over ultrasound photos, neatly folded clothes, and appointment schedules. At first, it was just a pang- envy twisting her heart- but it didn’t dwindle. It swelled, a dark thought creeping in: The child should be mine. I deserve her more. I could love her more, protect her better, give her everything Hioki could never. Every smile she and Hioki shared, every gleeful post on her pregnancy journey, grated against her. The warmth she used to feel towards Hioki was curdling into dark, sharp hatred and she caught herself imagining the baby in her own arms, Hioki’s face, irrelevant in her ideal future. Hioki was a problem, standing in the way of Sachiyo and her baby. And she hated problems.
-
I’m going into labor. The text lit up her bedroom. She read the text message again. A second time. And a third. Still she couldn’t quite process it fully. It’s happening. Little Kyo is coming. Sachiyo grabbed her coat, her keys and her phone. She reached her car, slamming the door and gearing the acceleration. Late night traffic was little, almost nonexistent, barely anyone awake to be out at this hour. She got to the hospital surprisingly fast, barely any delay. Sachiyo stepped out of her car. The night air was cold on her skin but that didn’t bother her much. Breaking into a run, abandoning all hesitation, she longed. Longed to be there, longed to hold the child that was hers, longed in ways she couldn’t describe. As the reception walls, nurses and formalities past her, thoughts seeped into her head. She’s coming. I’m going to be a mother. Just wait a little longer, little one, mama will be there soon.
-
The infant was solid and warm against her chest, heavier than she imagined, but real none the less. Tiny fingers wound around Sachiyo’s own finger. She traced her finger over the downy hair, memorizing the curve of little Kyo’s cheeks, the soft sighs between breaths. See, she thought, nothing else matters at this moment, you’re calm with me baby. The world narrowed to this moment, just the two of them, mother and daughter, the room fading to a gentle blur.
“‘Chiyo,” Hioki said from beside her, reaching out, “I need to feed her”. She felt a flare of irritation spark spark and unbidden. She pushed the feeling down, putting on a tight smile.
“Of course.” she replied, passing the child over. Hioki laughed lightly, cooing, bringing the baby closer to her uncovered chest. The sound scraped at Sachiyo’s ears, mocking her. Why was she interrupting? Why did she always hover, always intrude, as if this moment didn’t belong here, as if the baby wasn’t perfectly content already? Sachiyo’s eye lingered on the baby’s form, drinking milk, snuggling into Hioki’s warmth. Her eyes lifted to Hioki’s own smiling face. What a pest.
-
Sachiyo stood behind Hioki, who was looking for the baby’s formula bottle. Sachiyo’s eyes were locked on her back, listening to her breathing. It had been a week since Hioki and little Kyo were discharged from the hospital. Hioki had grown to be an annoyance, constantly interrupting Sachiyo’s time with her baby. A cold feeling travelled up her spine, a spine-chilling grin overtaking her features.
“Hioki,” she said, “I think I remember you left the bottle in the kitchen.” Hioki turned to face her. She noticed how Hioki’s body seemed to tense once locking eyes with her before relaxing again.
“Yeah, I think you're right, ‘Chiyo.”
She followed Hioki into the kitchen, footsteps quiet but still audible. Sachiyo wrapped her hand around one of the kitchen knives, once forgotten in a mess, now remembered and wielded.
“Hmm I can’t find it…Are you sure you saw it here?” her once friend, questioned. Sachiyo grinned like the Cheshire Cat, picturing the red that would paint these smooth walls in just a few moments. She brought her thumb over the edge of the blade, Hm, should be sharp enough.
“I’m sure, keep looking.” She stepped closer before leaping toward Hioki. The noise must have drawn Hioki’s attention, for she turned around to Sachiyo. Too late. The blade pierced Hioki’s side, passing fabric and skin into flesh. Sachiyo ripped the knife back out, liquid red pouring out. Hioki let out a choked sound that might’ve been a scream if louder. She didn’t care. She stabbed again, this time at the heart. It was surprising how easily blade cut through flesh and bone, exhilarating even. Hioki’s body fell to the floor, still in its movements, expression frozen in permanent fear. Dark red soaked Sachiyo’s clothing and hands, she didn’t mind though. A timely end to this nuisance.
The house was quiet in a way that it hadn’t been before, the kind of silence that pressed against her ears. Sachiyo stood in the nursery doorway, no longer hearing the heavy breathing of an adult in the other room. She listened, counting the breaths of her baby. One… two… three… The baby cried, a soft small sound but instinct pulled her closer. She lifted the baby into her arms, cooing, rocking the small child. Somewhere behind her, the door remained closed, untouched, the weight of it settling into permanence. She didn’t look back. There was no need. The air felt lighter now, unburdened, an obstacle finally removed from her path.
“Shhhhh. Don’t worry, my Kyo,” She murmured. “Mama’s here.”