So, it seems this is the last fic party. It’s very bittersweet. For this month, I decided to revisit “Spring is a time for new beginnings,” since while a year ago it certainly wasn’t spring, something wonderful began.
Also, because I’m baby trash right now, and wanted to write something like this anyway.
The Night It Started
~1000 words
AO3 Link
Technically, it’s a continuation of this mini-fic, but it stands on its own just fine I think.
Michiru smiled and tucked a blanket around Haruka. She’d only managed to make it halfway through changing into pajamas before passing out sprawled on top of the bed covers. For a week straight she’d been running herself ragged. More than once Michiru had woken up in the middle of the night, either to find Haruka in the nursery fussing over Himeka or scrambling to find and react to new information. “Spring babies are more likely to develop skin cancer, we need to keep her out of the sun!” “I think we didn’t get the best brand of formula, one website says another has more nutrients…” She couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours’ rest since they brought the baby home. Now, finally, it had caught up to her.
And of course, now that Haruka had fallen asleep, Himeka started to cry.
Michiru slipped into the hall and shut the door. Hopefully that would mute the noise enough for Haruka to stay asleep. Part of Michiru wondered if Haruka had run herself so ragged over baby care out of the same fears Michiru had over how she’d handle the baby without Haruka there, but the rest of her knew Haruka believed too highly of her to even entertain the idea. She’d doubt herself to the point of terror before considering that Michiru might not be cut out for this. Michiru had never thought about having kids, barely felt like she had ever truly been a kid, much less had any idea how to love one. She entered the nursery with her own fear heavy on her shoulders.
Himeka lay in the crib Haruka had so carefully put together. Her small face was scrunched and red as she cried. Michiru couldn’t see what inspired such big, instinctual love in Haruka. She was just a small, loud, inarticulate person, and not one Michiru would call cute at the moment. But Haruka loved her, so Michiru had to try. “What is it?”
Himeka kept crying as Michiru lifted her up. She always quieted at least a little when Haruka held her. Now, it seemed, she only got louder. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
Himeka’s diaper was dry. Michiru tried to remember when Haruka had last fed her. “Are you hungry?”
Himeka did not answer. Michiru took her out to the kitchen anyway.
Haruka made preparing the formula while holding the baby look easy. It was not. Himeka kept squirming as she cried. The image of dropping her into the boiling water kept haunting Michiru’s mind, too clear to be a genuine vision but all the more frightening for it. She put Himeka back in her crib. Something akin to guilt tugged at Michiru’s heart for leaving her crying alone. The water took forever to boil, and even longer to cool. At long last she mixed it and tested the temperature on her wrist. It was a small miracle that Haruka had not woken up.
In the nursery, Himeka took the bottle greedily as Michiru held her. “You’re going to take after your Papa, I see. She’s also a bear when she’s hungry.” It was, perhaps, absurd to think Himeka resembled Haruka, but she was starting to see similarities in her face. Their eyes had the same shine. Maybe it was just because they spent so much time together. “Just so long as you wait a long time to share your Papa’s love of motor sports. That’s too dangerous for baby bears.” Michiru caught herself smiling. Himeka was looking at her now, still gulping, but focused on her. “Do you like being my baby bear?” Did she even know what a bear was? Haruka had bought her several teddy bears, but had she told her what they were? “Well, you can be Papa’s little girl, but Mama’s baby bear. How does that sound?”
Himeka gurgled.
Michiru took the bottle away and burped her, but she didn’t put her back in the crib. “I don’t know much about bears,” she told the now very attentive Himeka. “I might mess up with you a lot. My parents raised me to be just a dancing bear in their circus. But I want you to be a happy bear. I’m going to try, but I can’t make promises.” She tickled the baby’s tummy. “Will you forgive me?”
Himeka wrapped one tiny fist around Michiru’s thumb. Her pudgy fingers were soft and warm. Michiru felt something in her chest dissolve into the same warmth.
“We’ll shake on it, baby bear.” She lifted Himeka up to her shoulder and rocked in her chair.The light fuzz on top of her head brushed Michiru’s cheek. She was so tiny and vulnerable, all her support came from Michiru. Her little body clung on, but with trust instead of fear. Michiru felt words form in her mouth she’d only ever used sincerely on Haruka.
“I love you.”
——-
Haruka woke that morning disorientated, both by her state of dress and by being alone in their bed. She couldn’t remember falling asleep. The bedside clock told her she had been down all night. Her first thought was to wonder where Michiru was; the second was to worry about Himeka. She stumbled out of bed, shirt still on backwards and jeans still unzipped, and ran into the hall.
Her breath caught when she made it to the nursery. Himeka lay happily asleep in her crib. Michiru slept as well, the rocking chair pulled close enough that she could lean on the crib rail. One arm cushioned her head. The other squeezed through the bars to hold Himeka’s hand.
Haruka snuck out quietly and returned with their camera. After taking pictures from every angle she could conceive of without waking either of them, she sat down on the opposite side of the crib. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever. A few tears rolled down her cheek. She reached in to take Himeka’s other hand. These were her girls, the beautiful start of her little family.
SittingOverHereDreaming 