synergetic | Sometime in the future...

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Sometime in the future...

Himawari's crying was usually enough to make her doting father fly, an anxiety-inducing siren call that hit something primal in a part of his soul so deep he hadn't even known it was there--

But there on the stairs, directly in his way, was a different little damsel in distress, and she was not an obstacle he needed to overcome, she was not a problem he needed to solve, and if he kept saying this to himself he might believe it.

"Yukiko-chan, what's the matter?" Yukimura glanced up at the exact part of the ceiling that happened to be underneath his infant's crib and wondered why humans hadn't evolved X-ray vision.

"My tummy hurts."

"Still?" He was concerned. It'd been a couple of hours since she'd gone to lay down over it. He hadn't wanted to jump right to medicine, especially since it would have been somewhere in Bunta's boxes and crates, and he didn't trust himself to recognize the right one anyway.

"It's because I didn't have Hanabi to stay with me," she said, with the roughly the same conviction he'd had when he said he was going to go undefeated across all three years of middle school.

No, when he ordered his teammates to go undefeated.

She was going to be formidable if she took up sports.

"Did Daddy pack Hanabi up?" He'd seen pictures of the stuffed mouse Jackal gave her the day she was born, but no sign of it (her?) since he'd welcomed the Maruis into his home late last night. (Or was it early this morning? The commencement of Himawari's control over his life seemed to have negated his awareness of the passage of time.)

"When did you last see her, and where? Do you remember what box Daddy might have put her in? Or where he put the boxes?"

Yukiko just started up at him with a slowly crumpling face, and Yukimura might have said a few things Yukiko shouldn't repeat, but he knew damn well she'd immediately repeat them, probably to her brother, and he needed to calm her down after his barrage of questions clearly overstimulated her.

And he should have gotten Atobe to move in, because that bastard did have X-ray vision, he thought, as Himawari wailed again.

"Let's go look upstairs together," he said quickly, hoping against hope that Marui managed to get some of the kids' belongings upstairs by now. "I'll carry you," he added, assuming it would be faster and leave less risk of him trampling her in his need to get to Himawari, now.

He opened his arms and luckily she cooperated, and he forced himself not to groan because he'd had no idea she was this heavy and what if he needed to check Himawari's temperature, he was going to need a free arm, could he hold her with just one? At least he didn't have to choose which one... his athleticism was getting him up the stairs under the weight of an eight year old girl and he'd developed Mirage Mirror so he could use either hand for anything, right? Right.

There were crates between Himawari's and Yukiko's room, luckily, and Yukimura somehow, with Herculean strength, kicked it into Himawari's room so he split his attention between both girls.

"Now my ears hurt," said Yukiko, and Yukimura gave her a little squeeze.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"She needs a Hanabi too."

"Soon, soon," he murmured, shifting Yukiko, who, with the patience of a saint and not an elementary schooler, waited for him to look over Himawari frantically.

"What's the matter, darling?" he wondered out loud, unable to stop himself from hoping for an eloquent and detailed answer.

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"No, no, no!" Yukiko yelped, rolling over the side of the couch and tearing after her father. "That's mine!"

Saved, Yukimura thought, by the blatant emotional manipulation. Mm, maybe this would get easier? He buried his face in Himawari's onesie trying not to obviously laugh.

Somehow, Yukiko doesn't ruin her appetite with candy, Keita comes down with pants on, and Marui manages to get food both cooked and into their bellies. He joins in their chatter where he can, but he feels, to his surprise, a bit out of his depth. He really hasn't spent much time around kids since he was one, at least not in a home setting. He's always a visitor to his friends' children, a reason to be on their best behavior or to be quiet and let the grown-ups talk for the short time he has before the next tournament. Yukimura really doesn't have any idea how to relate to them yet.

But it's fun listening to Marui work, at any rate. And his own little goddess still had her demands from time to time.

Once Marui starts making overtures about bedtime, the kids find a second wind... and a third... but Marui has heard this song before, and dances accordingly.

Given how up and down she is, Yukimura deems it not worth it to settle Himawari in her crib upstairs. Anyway, if she goes off, she might wake the Maruis. Instead he settles her in a cradle he keeps ready when he's too tired for the stairs.

On second thought, he raids the liquor cabinet, too.

The peace after the kids are in bed is the best and easiest part of the day, which is a good thing because the task of getting them to bed is the hardest and most time-consuming. Yukimura gets some quiet time with Himawari while Marui yanks Keita upstairs for supervision while he helps Yukiko search for and eventually find Hanabi. Bath and bedtime story for Keita. Bath and bedtime conversation about indirect communication and how asking about someone's mom could be an uncomfortable subject for Yukiko. Delivery on the promise of ear plugs for Yukiko and Hanabi. Finally the lights are out and Bunta slips back downstairs, finding Yukimura on the couch with all the fixings for the two of them to have a hard-earned drink. Fucking legend.

He flops down next to him looking five years older than he did that morning. "Thanks. Is it strong?" Please be strong.

"I'm not wasting my time with mixers," is his answer.

Yukimura hands Bunta the nearest bottle.

"Mind you, I haven't had time to stock up for myself since I quit the circuit, so most of these are housewarming gifts. You can judge which is the strongest by who gave it to me."

Pointing at the bottle in Bunta's hands.

"That one came in its own airlifted cooler direct from France. Atobe's name is on the card, so I think it'll be good, but not so good that it'll kill a horse."

Next, he indicates a classic sake.

"This is from a distillery in the mountains that Sanada and Yanagi like. The distillery was probably founded before things like measuring the proof, so it might be insane, or it might be designed to put old men to sleep."

Then, a dark whiskey with an avante-garde label.

"This one is from Niou."

Good answer, Yukimura. Even if makes Bunta a bit uneasy to spring for the one Yukimura handed him.

"This really okay?" He means that. From Atobe had to mean it was ridiculously pricy and high-quality. Didn't Yukimura deserve to keep that for himself? This wasn't some random store-bought cake here!

"He'll send another the next time he's on a magazine cover and wants me to know," Yukimura reassured him. "Or the next I open my mailbox without help, he'd think that's an achievement. He sent one when the baby was born, too, and I asked him, 'What? She can't use that!' And he laughed."

To emphasize his point, Yukimura takes the bottle from Marui and pours it into both glasses with ice, then hands Bunta's back to him.

"Taste it and tell me if it helps."

Bunta can't help it: he laughs too when Yukimura shares his story about getting booze when the baby was born, and probably for the same reason as Atobe. Well, far be it from him to turn down a drink already poured, that would just be rude!

"You know it does! One more day conquered-- cheers~!" He lifts his glass briefly in toast and downs two big mouthfuls without so much as a pause.

WOOF. Yeah, that's better already.

"It makes for a hectic home, doesn't it?"

"But there's nothing to do about it. You're not going to change it, are you?"

Without even trying, his eyes find Himawari settling into her rest.

"This is why Sanada is grayer and grayer every time I see him, isn't it? I might as well get used to it now."

Bunta scoffs good-naturedly.

"Even if I wanted to, there's no going back."

The question was meant as a gentle probe for how Yukimura is feeling about the new arrangement. What Bunta hears is that Yukimura may be privately questioning the wisdom of this arrangement but is looking to make the best of it now that it's done. That was fair. There was really no way to prepare for the reality of living with kids.

"At least Sanada has a teammate. Four kids with two parents is still easier than one kid and one parent, that's what I think... Doing it all yourself just isn't possible."

The fog of sleep deprivation kept most of that nuance firmly out of Yukimura's grasp.

"I was slowly coming to that conclusion, too," he said, referring to doing it alone.

"I didn't want to admit it, though. I still don't. As miserable as I am, I'm happy. I know it doesn't make sense."

Marui allows a moment of silence for that admission, and uses the time to cast a fond look over at the rocker where Himawari's eyes are losing the battle against the pull of sleep. He relaxes back against the couch.

"No... it makes perfect sense."

Yukimura laughs a little.

"I spend so many hours cultivating my flowers, but they don't smile at you or reach back for you or anything like that."

His eyes were closing, too, but he could still hear Himawari breathing.

"Is that selfish?"

Bunta feels himself smiling. He's honestly just so happy for Yukimura and the fulfillment that he's found in taking care of his child. He's always excelled at providing structure and plans that help others grow their potential, but nurturing isn't really a word Bunta would have ascribed to him growing up. Parenthood does such funny things to you.

"Not at all." He savors a more modest sip of his drink, dangerously comfortable. "If it wasn't rewarding, no one would have more than one..." Is that a self-tell? It sure as hell is.

Yukimura's fingers relax around his glass, letting it start to slip-- then he jerks back awake and catches it.

"Please tell me Yukiko-chan was sleeping by the time you decided you wanted Keita-kun."

He drinks again.

"Who are we recruiting into this club next, I wonder?"

Kids slept an amazing amount. If only that meant you as a parent could, too. Bunta misses feeling rested in the morning.

A sleepy grin spreads across his face.

"In with a bang...! Is Jackal."

"He's been in since middle school," Yukimura protested. "Or younger. You're the only ones who knows when it started."

Yukimura sets his empty glass down before any more mishaps can form, and reclines back on the couch.

"But Yukiko-chan wants him to move in... the excuse is there, if we can find it."

Nah.

"Of course she does," he acknowledged, like it should be the most natural and understandable feeling in the world. "He'd probably listen, too, if you let him." Jackal was soft that way. But he deserved his own life, and the chance to build his own family with Makoto.

"I'm not going to let him," Yukimura said. He knew his opinions carried weight with his friends. If asked, he would tell Jackal-- live for yourself at some point! Yukimura thoroughly enjoyed the life he'd built around his own whims.

Himawari, too, resulted from a particular whim. He'd expected to miss his pre-child life more than he did. It wasn't that he never found himself thinking about it wistfully, but it passed as easily as a change of subject.

He was looking forward to working again, though... even if it was with the boy.

It was odd, to look over the choices he was making and realizing he was subsuming his whim to someone else. He'd always had friends who didn't mind him being decisive, for himself and them both. And he was still making the decisions, but soon enough, baby would want her own say...

His eyes were slipping closed again.

"How are you holding up, though?" Might as well get it out of the way while Yukimura was too tired to look at Marui.

"I didn't steamroll you into this, did I? It must be hard, my baby is louder than both of yours," and he tries not to sound like he's bragging, he really is, but that kind of lung capacity! What if it means she'll be a great singer...?

Not that the decibels have actually been measured, of course. He could be wrong about this, and Yukiko and Keita could be very ready to prove him so. But it's a fun thought for him anyway, and a little deprecation doesn't hurt.

Edited 2024-08-22 08:52 (UTC)

Steamroll?. Damn. Well, that puts one potential read of his earlier statements to rest.

"No, I think it was a smart solution for all three of us. As expected from Yukimura-kun!" Jackal got his house back for moving forward with his relationship. Yukimura got house help. Marui got a replacement place to live. He's grateful, frankly. Everyone just needed a little time; it was always an adjustment to bring someone new into a living arrangement.

He leans over slightly for a better look at Himawari, and feels a smile spreading across his face. She looks so content.

"She has your hands."

Yukimura's eyes snap back open in curiosity-- and examine his angel baby carefully. He feels a little silly doing it, because he's already spent an inordinate amount of time marveling over how she manages to have such tiny little fingers and still be a real person.

"Where are you getting that from?" he asks, amused. It's not the resemblance people usually comment on.

"Look," he says with an indicative gesture towards her tiny hands, still grinning. "The shape of the palms and fingers." There was some baby fat there for her to shed first, of course, but he could see their more elongated form underneath. "And here, along the knuckle lines. Just like here--"

Bunta shifts his finger to the top of Yukimura's knuckle, hovering just above the skin as he traces the visible ridges that run from the base of his fingers down into the top of the palm, like spindles.

"Mm-hmm."

Practically cross-eyed from only sleeping in two-to-three hour intervals since Himawari came to dominate his life, Yukimura gives Marui a good look at his elbow before burying it in his friend's upper arm.

"Hands are all the same. Difficult to draw."

"Hands are easy to draw!" Bunta protested, now truly venturing into full-of-shit territory. "It's just a circle with five lines coming out of it."

"You've officially spent too much time with the babies and not enough with fellow adults," Yukimura proclaimed teasingly. "You're picking up their bad habits. Next you're going to want me to scare the monsters out of your closet."

But he had a dreamy look slowly glazing over his face. He wondered if Himawari would be the type to scare herself with her imagination? He didn't remember ever believing in things like that, though he did think Sanada had taken some of his games too seriously back then... but Sanada took everything too seriously.

"I want to know already if she'll like art, and tennis, and gardening," he murmured.

Bunta gets the anticipation. The eagerness to share all of the things you like and the hope that your child will similarly latch on for an easy thing to bond over. He sips his drink. The couch is getting dangerously comfortable, his eyelids just a little heavy.

"Exciting, isn't it? Watching them grow into their own person is the best."

With his empty glass safe on the table, Yukimura props his chin in his hand on the back of the couch. Otherwise, his head starts to slump.

"I would be okay if she was a singer," he said, remembering his earlier contemplation. "Or something elegant like dressage or gymnastics. But maybe she'll surprise me and be a wrestler."

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