Chapter Text
I
The Routine of Nakahara Family
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Chuuya woke up to silence. No chirps of birds, no buzz of the traffic, nor the laugh of his children. The only noise accompanying him was his rushed breathing. Glancing at the digital clock on his bed-side table, it was three in the morning. No wonder the children hadn’t roused yet. Usually, they would always wake up earlier than Chuuya—or Chuuya later than them, to be exact—making racket and noises to wake their papa up.
Today was not quite the usual. Chuuya had been stirred by a dream of the past, about one man who had given him his most precious—the father of his children. It was not a dream, less a nightmare. One could name it nostalgia. One that Chuuya didn’t entertain often.
Nothing would come out of reminiscing the past, not while he still had the present and a future.
Chuuya got up from his bed. Since he had gotten up so early, he better started the day earlier too. He walked through the dark hallway toward the kitchen. As he entered the destination, he flipped the switch near the door and instantly artificial light flooded the small room.
It was Chuuya’s favorite room in the house since he could see sunrise from its window, although it had become a rarity for him due to his habit of waking up late. Thus he planned to use this opportunity thoroughly—facing the opened window, looking beyond the glasses, and waiting for the sun to rise.
Describing the room in clockwork, though, started from his right were a fridge and a shelf of plates and cutleries. Pinned to the refrigerator were colorful doodles in pastel, obviously crafted by over imaginative mind of kids. Right on the opposite of the door was a counter to prepare ingredients under the east window where the rising sun could be seen. Then on his left was a set of cooking equipments. Finally, in the center of the room was a dining table big enough for four people.
Chuuya gathered all the equipments and ingredients he needed, put them on the counter. Usually he would only make simple toast and bacon with salad due to the limited time, but since he woke up earlier today, he decided to put a little bit of effort and make more elaborated dish. After finishing all of the meal preparation with the only thing left was processing them, there were still a good ten minutes before sunrise. Chuuya switched off the light and opened the curtain draped over the window. There was a tint of red on the east horizon already.
The pitter-patter of footsteps came to Chuuya’s ear before it stopped near. He turned around and found his children in the doorway, looking at him in surprise.
“Good morning, Atsushi, Ryuunosuke,” Chuuya greeted them with a smile. “Want to enjoy the morning sun with me?”
The surprised looks morphed into delight before both came barreling to hug Chuuya. While quality time with their papa was not anything scarce, it was a rarity for them to enjoy a morning without being rushed.
“Good morning, Papa!!” Atsushi greeted excitedly, followed consecutively by a calmer one from Ryuunosuke.
Atsushi and Ryuunosuke were the twins Chuuya had birthed seven years ago. His older one, Atsushi, was white-haired, easily excited yet also easily frightened, and as stubborn as his parents combined. On the other hand, the younger by minutes Ryuunosuke had a black hair which turned into white at certain length, and while calmer than his older brother, he was definitely no less stubborn.
Their white hair always made Chuuya wonder where they got it from, because as fas as he knew--which was not much considering both the twins biological parents were orphans without clear background—they didn’t have such genetic inheritance. Chuuya had tried to get them examined and fortunately the doctor said that it was no more than harmless quirk.
Seven years, Chuuya contemplated. It meant eight years had passed since Chuuya left his hometown at the age of twenty.
A ray of sunlight distracted Chuuya from his musing, reminding him of the present. The sun had risen enough to light the small kitchen, giving color to the previously dull room. The twins had moved from his lap to the window—peering at the sunrise, or the morning birds that had arrived and started to chirp.
“Atsushi, Ryuu, how about you two take a bath while Papa prepares breakfast?” Chuuya got up from his seat. “So that we won’t be late today?”
Atsushi and Ryuunosuke looked back at Chuuya with skeptical and judgmental looks. Couldn’t blame them because Chuuya was the reason they were near late most of the days, refusing to be roused from his slumber at most morning—one of the reason why they were quite surprised to see Chuuya at the kitchen at the hour.
“Well, I woke up earlier than you two today,” Chuuya huffed at the look he got.
Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes.
“Papa’s so childish!!” pointed Atsushi with a giggle.
“I am not!”
“You are!” Atsushi refused to back down.
“Not!” and the childish papa also refused to.
“We are going to be late again if we keep this pointless argument,” Ryuunosuke broke the said pointless argument. “Come on, Atsushi. Let Papa cook.”
Ryuunosuke caught Atsushi’s hand and guided them forcefully to the bathroom.
Most of the time, the youngest was indeed the voice of reason in the house—the more level-headed individual compared to his papa and brother. Most of the time. Because while he looked all calm and detached, thus resulting on the image of being more mature and wise than his actual age, a trigger could change him for a hundred and eighty degree. This phenomenon also applied on Atsushi, as sweet and pacifist as he usually was, never got him angry or someone would be punched or bitten—Chuuya had personally experienced it.
With a sigh, Chuuya went back to prepare the breakfast. Any strange quirk his children had, from the mysterious white hair inheritance to the tendency of being annoying, he blamed the other father. The genetic quirk might an unreasonable accusation, but the other father indeed had personality disorder himself. Even if Chuuya loved him so much, Chuuya had no qualms calling him a creep. Hopefully the tendency didn’t manifest too strongly on his children—one was handful enough in his experience, he didn’t have a confidence to handle two.
The food had been ready even before the children finished their bath. As planned, today’s delicacy was fairly simple—fried rice with sunny-side egg and octopus wiener as side-dishes—he didn’t prepare any lunchbox as it was provided by school. By any means Chuuya was not a bad cook, in contrast, Chuuya was proud with his culinary skill. He had learned to cook since the age of seven polishing his culinary skill to acceptable level, which now he could be proud of since it enabled him to feed his babies healthy food—while he admitted he wasn’t overly-concerned with nutritional balance, at least it was not junk food filled with monosodium glutamate either. All because a certain someone had complained and whined about wanting a pudding, and since then Chuuya would always complied to his request—yes, Chuuya was talking about the other father, who else?
After cleaning the kitchen and arranging the dining table, Chuuya checked on them.
“Atsushi? Ryuu? Everything’s alright?” Chuuya knocked on the closed bathroom’s door. “Have you brushed your teeth?” he inquired further. “Do you need any help?”
“We are fine, Papa!” said the exasperated Ryuunosuke. “Just take a bath yourself or we will be late, again.”
Chuuya frowned. His youngest child sure was mouthy. Chuuya was just worried!
“Yes, Papa should take a bath already,” added Atsushi. “You take longer than both of us in the bath.”
Scratch his previous statement, both his children were mouthy. Chuuya was pretty lenient in his parenting style, but maybe it was time to be a little stricter? Then he grimaced remembering his own childhood. He had already experienced worse. Okay, Chuuya admitted he had been a troublemaker. His children’s level of deviance was tamer.
“Okay, okay! No need to be so snarky!”
At least, there, Chuuya reminded them that their developing personality was foul.
Chuuya went to his own bedroom that had an adjoining bathroom. Finished with the bath, he just took whatever clothes his hands got. The contents of Chuuya’s closet were all fashionable, so whatever clothes he randomly took out would look good on him—his random picking today resulted on grey turtleneck cashmere and jeans, draped by teal coat. In complement, he wore a pair of black heeled boots.
By the time Chuuya came back to the kitchen, the children had been waiting in their pristine school attires, patiently waiting for their father to start breakfast. Chuuya internally felt relief that he actually managed to teach them some manners, and how to wear their clothes nicely. As they finally started their breakfast, even though the food was not piping hot anymore, it was still warm.
# # #
“Oh my god,” Chuuya groaned, thumping his head to the steer. “Why?”
Nakahara Chuuya, a twenty-eight years old single father, was sitting impatiently on driver-seat, waiting for the traffic to move—to think that it would be jammed when he had such important meeting with a client. Not to mention he needed to deliver his children to the school first. Like always, he wondered whether or not he had enough time.
Said children were casually playing with Chuuya’s phone without a care in the backseat. They had been in the similar predicament so many times to be bothered.
Chuuya whimpered in envy.
In the middle of internal berating, his earphone informed him of incoming call.
“Papa, you got a call from Lucy,” Atsushi clarified for him.
“Okay, thank you, Atsushi.”
Chuuya tapped his earphone and his assistant’s voice immediately greeted him.
“Good morning, Mr. Nakahara.”
“Good morning, Lucy.”
“I bet you are trapped in traffic again?”
Chuuya could imagine Lucy’s brand of mocking clearly from the woman’s tone of voice. “Yeah. So?” he answered, irritated.
“Just to remind you the appointment with Mr. Mori is in twenty minutes.”
“I know!!”
“I am not finished, Sir,” his assistant chided. “Because I know you, I took the liberty of calling Mr. Hirotsu here today. And here he is,” there was a voice of Hirotsu-san saying hello in the background noise. “So, you don’t need to worry and just be careful on driving.”
Chuuya sagged in relief. “Thank you, Lucy. And pass my thanks to Hirotsu-san too, will you?”
“Understood, Sir,” Lucy ended the call.
Even if Lucy’s tone was full of smug, and rude, Chuuya couldn’t be careless. His capable assistant had saved his business more time than Chuuya could count. That was important for Chuuya, and he was truly grateful to Lucy.
Chuuya worked in a boutique, or he owned it to be precise. Rain in June, its name, was built around four years ago. Rain in June was an associate of Hirotsu-san’s Black Camellia. Unlike Black Camellia that was intended for male customer, Rain in June was dedicated for women’s wear, especially dresses and wedding gowns.
It was such a long story toward this success from being Hirotsu-san’s low-employee in Black Camellia.
Everything started eight years ago, yes, around the time Chuuya left his hometown, secretly kidnapping his best friend’s twins that he carried in his womb. Wandering in an unknown town with decreasing finance and deteriorating health—only willpower keeping him together—Chuuya passed Black Camellia. The vacancy posted on the display window was Chuuya’s light of hope.
Hirotsu-san accepted him as an assistant—cleaning the shop, receiving call, managing appointment with customers, stocking equipment and material, or being delivery boy, and sometimes even helping with the accounting. Chuuya became anything the store needed at the day. Once Hirotsu-san realized his condition though, he was completely relocated to deskjob. No labor works allowed, and working hours restriction was applied. Even though at that time Chuuya thought those were not necessary, he appreciated it nonetheless, as it gave him extra time to rest.
Anyway, that job vacancy on Black Camellia’s window was his salvation and he was grateful to the kind Hirotsu-san who had given him the key towards better life. He had a shelter—an apartment he was able to rent only after he got the job at Black Camellia; a job that helped him pay for his shelter and food nourishing his body, and health support—namely Doctor Yosano Akiko, who was introduced by Hirotsu-san and the one who delivered his babies.
Even after the twins were born, Hirotsu-san kept helping him. The old man leniently allowed him to work at the shop for three days out of a week—the maximum days Chuuya allowed himself to send the twins to child daycare—without cutting Chuuya’s wage. In the opposite, Hirotsu-san increased it. Whereas the rest of workdays in which Chuuya used for rearing the twins at home, Hirotsu-san gave him some workload that could be done at home—from sewing ornaments to managing account book—that way, Chuuya kept his worth of job without feeling like feeding off of a charity.
Sometimes, when his workload was done and the twins slept soundly after getting their fill, Chuuya would use the time to sketch some clothes design, making use of his experience as a dropout fashion designer student. Two years after being hired by Black Camellia, Chuuya nervously proposed his designs to Hirotsu-san and suggested to open a branch orienting at women’s wear.
“Isn’t it your dream to have a boutique of yours truly? You should open it yourself, Chuuya-kun,” was Hirotsu-san’s answer at that time. “I will help you gathering funds. When you have saved enough, you should make it reality.”
Chuuya worked extra hard after that. Of course he never neglected his children. He would rather neglect his dream instead of neglecting his children. Sometimes, Hirotsu-san would recommend his work to his acquaintances and customers, and Chuuya did his best for those who trusted him enough to ask him to make their clothes. Two years later, Rain in June was opened—one of his prides aside from the twins, but no one could beat the twins in his priority, of course—and his first customers from his time at Black Camellia were now his loyal customers.
The underline, anyway, the vacancy job he saw that day brought Chuuya to where he was now. He had larger house—a good apartment where the family of three could live comfortably—and he could be with his children and cook for them every day and not three days out of a week, and his dream was realized. Chuuya was content.
Honk! Honk!
Except for the fact that he was still stuck on traffic jam.
With a suffering sigh, Chuuya swiped the gear and pushed the gas-pedal. The car moved slowly and carefully forward only for several meters. Meanwhile, the twins were already bored of the phone and started talking about revenge plot against their certain classmate.
# # #
It was a miracle that Chuuya could safely deliver the children to their school on time, even though his arrival at the school’s gate was immediately greeted by the glare of the twins’ strict teacher, Mr. Hawthorne.
His meeting was a lost cause though.
Once he arrived at Rain in June, greeted by Lucy and Hirotsu-san, his client Mr. Mori Ogai had left already. Mr. Mori was one of Chuuya’s earliest customers after Rain in June’s grand opening and most profiting one at that—due to his habit of spoiling his daughter Ms. Elise with high quality frilly dresses. If not for Chuuya’s ability to deliver the taste to the detail, Chuuya was convinced Mr. Mori would have left his patronage in consequence of Chuuya’s breaking record of tardiness.
Chuuya had not always been like this. He swore he loved waking up early in his younger days. However, lately life had been quite demanding. How many times already had Lucy needed to call Hirotsu-san in emergency of his stead? Chuuya was certain he had owed the old man quitea lot of favor even without counting his time in Black Camellia.
“I am sorry to call you here, Hirotsu-san,” said Chuuya to the elderly man apologetically.
Hirotsu-san sipped his tea calmly before answered, “It’s fine, Chuuya-kun. Higuchi could manage Black Camellia alone for just a few hours. I have considered you family, and family’s duty is to help each other. Don’t mind it.”
“Still, I am very grateful. I need to repay you.”
“Anyway!” Lucy interjected, entering the room with Chuuya’s book of design and kind of threw the book to Chuuya’s face before moving on to her own desk and sitting down—rude as always, why did Chuuya keep her again? “Mr. Nakahara, I think you should review Mr. Mori’s new order instead of uselessly arguing about repayment. Mr. Hirotsu will be fine with your cooking, today is your weekly family dinner, right? Oh, don’t forget you still need to finish Lady Fitzgerald’s ball gown,” she said while typing on her computer. Yeah, right, because she was capable.
“Lucy’s right,” quipped Hirotsu-san. “I will be waiting for you and the twins tonight with Higuchi, then. Just bring delicious food and good wine and all is good. Oh, will you join us tonight, Lucy?”
Lucy said no. She always said no.
The elderly man gotten up from his seat and reaching for his coat, hat, and cane. “Now, since you are here, I will be back to Black Camellia.” Then, Hirotsu-san left with a ‘good luck, Chuuya-kun’.
# # #
As per his routine, Chuuya would leave the store after three in the afternoon so that he could pick up the twins, leaving the store in Lucy’s capable hand. Before he went to the school though, Chuuya pulled over to a nearby supermarket for a quick grocery shopping—both for the dinner with Hirotsu-san tonight and to stock his own refrigerator. He decided to shop alone because who knew how long it would take if he took the kids and got distracted with their begging for candies and snacks.
Finished with the grocery shopping, Chuuya picked the kids up. They greeted him with a hug.
“How was school?” Chuuya asked behind steer-wheel.
“We got back at Steinback!” Atsushi informed proudly.
Ryuunosuke nodded approvingly to his brother in a rare agreement. Usually he would disapprove for the sake of being disapproving to his brother. It meant Steinback must have ticked them a lot.
Chuuya could only grimace. Hopefully it wouldn’t call for parent-teacher meeting. Chuuya knew as a parent he should not encourage antagonistic behavior, but Chuuya was Chuuya, and his children were his children. Chuuya was not the type who backed down—and the other father was no better—of course the children would grow up as the type who pay injustice ten times they got. Maybe it was time for Chuuya to resign himself to his fate to be stuck with two carbon copies of a trouble incarnation.
“Well, good job on defending yourself,” Chuuya praised. “But never abuse your power over other, okay! Bullying weaker people is not good.”
“Of course!” Atsushi puffed his cheeks in offense. “I will never!”
“Good.”
On the other hand …
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuunosuke said half-heartedly simply to humor Chuuya.
If Chuuya had not been driving, he would have pinched Ryuunosuke’s cheek for that. Well, at least Chuuya had made sure that they would not hurt someone intentionally without reasons. Valid reasons.
“Anyway, we are going to Grandpa Hirotsu’s place for dinner tonight,” informed Chuuya. “Behave!”
In no time, they arrived at Black Camellia. Unlike Chuuya who had separate living place from Rain in June—in order to protect the store from his children’s grabby hands—Hirotsu-san lived in the second floor of his boutique. Convenience was Hirotsu-san’s reason.
“Don’t touch any clothes, or any material,” Chuuya warned the children once more when the three of them stepped out of the car. Even though they had been doing this family dinner thing for years, Chuuya would remind his children every times. “Or I will leave you two with Lucy for the next Sunday.”
Atsushi and Ryuunosuke’s face immediately paled in horrors. It’s not only their papa that cowered under Lucy’s ruthless stare, the children had already tasted how miserable it was if they made Lucy angry. There was that one time when Chuuya brought the children on Sunday to Rain in June and they ripped a custom ordered clothes, Lucy sat them down (made them kneel to be exact) in the office and stared at them dead on with judging eyes, and if the children dare to move even an inch, the ruler would smack the wooden desk in threatening manner. No physical punishment, of course, or Chuuya would come down like a god of war. Anyway, the children went home with numbing legs. And since then using Lucy as a threat would always work on the twins.
Chuuya knocked on Black Camellia’s door and a blonde woman opened it.
Chuuya smiled. “Good evening, Higuchi.”
Higuchi Ichiyou was Hirotsu-san’s assistant who joined after Chuuya left Black Camellia to handle Rain in June. Actually, Higuchi was Hirotsu-san’s niece whom the old man recruited to be his caretaker, then forced to help at the store. Hirotsu-san dodged the accusation of coercion within reason that he paid Higuchi for the work she did at the store.
“Good evening, Chuuya-san,” Higuchi smiled back, as polite as ever. “Good evening, Ryuu-chan and Atsushi-chan.”
Oh, Higuchi also adored his children very much. Atsushi adored her back as much for every time she gave him candy—Chuuya thought he needed to reprimand Atsushi to be cautious, that it was okay to accept candies from Higuchi who was practically family, but it was another story if it was from stranger and he should refuse. Ryuunosuke didn’t like Higuchi very much, maybe because Chuuya’s youngest hated to be pampered, or maybe he just being extra-cautious in the behalf of Atsushi—everyone knew Atsushi needed a protector and it seemed Ryuunosuke had taken that role for himself.
And for Chuuya, well, Chuuya was neutral. The woman was hardworking and diligent, not to mention less strict and harsh compared to Chuuya’s own assistant. Aside from that, Chuuya only saw Higuchi as Hirotsu-san’s niece. That meant Chuuya’s attitude toward Higuchi was no more than familiar politeness.
“Come in,” invited Higuchi, opening the door wider. “What do you bring today, Chuuya-san?”
Without being ushered by Chuuya, the twins entered the building and immediately went to the second floor. Chuuya kept an eye on them in case they were being clumsy and knocked something—or themselves, it was not impossible—out.
“Hamburger and wine,” answered Chuuya to Higuchi.
The wine was for Hirotsu-san and Higuchi. Chuuya, the designated driver he was, and the children would only drink juice.
“That sounds wonderful!” Higuchi closed the door.
Together, Chuuya and Higuchi walked upstairs to join Hirotsu-san and the twins who were already comfortable with each other—in front of the children, Hirotsu-san took a persona of funny grandpa, so different from the elderly gentleman he always donned in front of his associate. As Hirotsu-san entertained the twins, Higuchi and Chuuya went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, working together in silence with the voice of the twins and Hirotsu-san as background. The meal was done in thirty minutes or so, right on time for dinner.
“Mori-san told me this morning that Elise-chan is coming down with flu,” Hirotsu-san opened a conversation in the middle of dinner, sipping his glass of wine. “It’s this kind of season again. I hope Ryuu-chan and Atsushi-chan won’t catch it. I know it will affect you badly too, right, Chuuya-kun?”
Chuuya put down his cutlery. “Thank you for worrying about us, Hirotsu-san,” he smiled at the elderly, then turned to look at the twins fondly. “I will take precaution of keeping them from flu.”
Hirotsu-san nodded in satisfaction knowing his concern had been heard.
“I hope you take care of yourself too, Uncle Hirotsu,” Higuchi joined the conversation. “If you catch flu, it will be bad for me too.”
Hirotsu-san blinked and pretended to not listen at Higuchi’s nagging.
“Listen to her, Hirotsu-san,” Chuuya joined the teasing. Well, he also wanted Hirotsu-san to live healthily too.
All in all, the dinner was going nicely. It was not only their stomach that was full of food, Chuuya personally felt full of laugh, warmth, and happiness. At the end of the dinner season, Chuuya didn’t stay longer since Higuchi refused his help to tidy up. As he was saying his goodbye to the hosts, the drowsy twins were barely standing straight so their papa needed to carry them both—even though Chuuya was small, he was quite strong, at least strong enough to carry both seven years old kids in his arms. And since Chuuya’s arms were full, Higuchi sent him to the car—to help open the door of the car’s back seat.
Chuuya drove home after saying his thanks for their hospitality and a goodbye to Higuchi.
As Chuuya drove, the street’s neon lights passing in blur, he absentmindedly thought of what if. What if he had never left his hometown? What if he had decided to tell the other father about the twins? A lot more what if. Would the man he loved be sitting next to him right now? Would he be there holding his hands when Chuuya delivered the twins to this world? Chuuya would never know as it was something that had passed and his decision that had led him here could never be retracted.
Chuuya was sure of one thing though. There were some scenarios he would never entertain as what if. The moment he met the other father at their tender age, the moment he felt the first and only embrace in his life, the moment he realized there were two other pulses in his body. No matter what happened, those moments he never regretted, never wished to be treated as non-existent.
Chuuya’s thought ended as the car pulled into the apartment’s basement parking lot.
Years of driving experience enabled Chuuya to park smoothly, mindful of the still sleeping children on his backseat. Glancing at them from the rear-view mirror, Chuuya knew he needed to wake them up. It was impossible for him to carry both of them to the apartment from the basement, especially since Chuuya also needed to bring up the groceries from this afternoon shopping trip. So, Chuuya forced himself to wake the twins.
The twins blinked blearily.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Chuuya whispered at them.
They protested for being woken up, but still obediently climbed down the car. Atsushi took Chuuya’s hand and Ryuunosuke took Atsushi’s hand—Chuuya told the twins to hold each other’s hand tightly—while Chuuya’s other hand gripped the groceries bag. After taking the elevator, they arrived at their apartment’s floor. Chuuya didn’t switch the lamp on as they entered the threshold, knowing the light would wake the twins further and being woken up would make them grumpy.
It was not visible in the dark, but along the hallway was a row of framed photographs. Starting from the one nearest to the door was a photo of the twins’ admittance to elementary school—Chuuya kneeling between the two of them—taken by another parent who was passing by. Next to that was the photo of the twins as babies—bundled up in their blue blanket with face all scrunched up—sleeping on their cot, taken by Chuuyahimself. There were also several individual photographs of Atsushi or Ryuunosuke, and the rest were photos of the twins and Chuuya together. However, there was an exception—a photo of two children around the age of eight, one with curly red hair, another with messy brown hair, both were wearing carefully crafted polite expression—put on a decorative table, side by side with the most recent photo of the smiling twins.
Chuuya didn’t take any mind or special attention to the photographs as he put the shopping bag on the threshold—leaving it for later after he tended to the twins—and used both hands to guide his children through the hallway toward their bedroom. The row of photographs was such everyday view in their home and already a part of their life. Even the twins didn’t question much about the divergent photograph, only because they already knew who were in the photo—Chuuya never kept a secret from his children, at least a secret that mattered.
In the bedroom, Chuuya immediately changed the twins’ clothes into pajamas--he didn’t need to make them brush their teeth since it had been done at Hirotsu-san’s place. Chuuya then tucked them in their respective bed—righting their blanket’s position and giving each of them a kiss on the forehead—before heading out of the room, closing the door as quietly as possible.
To Be Continued