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[ladyshrike]

Giving Into The Love

Kenji Sato X Best Friend

A story I'm working on over on AO3.

(Word Count: 2504)

One | Two | Three | Four

Chapter 2:

It’s the sounds of waves crashing distantly in the background that wake her. The cool texture of something against her back causing a shiver to go down her spine. The moment her eyes open, it's like everything rushes back to her. Sound, memories of falling, the fast beating of her heart and the sudden panicked gasp that leaves her feeling breathless. It's like she’s still falling, the sensation of it alone ripping a screaming cry from her lips. It's like her senses are on high alert then, every ache, or sore spot, the cool air against her skin, everything, she feels it like her senses are dialed up to a million. The feeling so horrible that the moment something wraps around her arms tightly, she jumps, startled into sobs as the feeling tightens around her.

Until it begins to ease away.

There’s soft reassurances whispered in her ear, what could be a hand gently smoothing her hair down, a soothing action as the hold starts to feel protective. As if on some baser level instinct, some primal need for comfort, she clings to the form that holds her, sobs racking her body as she slowly realizes she’s safe. The person holding her is Kenji, and she’s in his living room, still half dressed and on his couch. Nothing else crosses her mind, just the need to get closer to him, to not leave his comfort, or this spot on his couch for anything. It's like a fear that has rooted her to that spot now.

“H-hey it's ok! You’re safe now!” His voice becomes a little clearer to her now, but everything still leaves her jumpy. “Mina! Get her a sedative! Something to calm her, anything!”

The prick she feels on her arm is startlingly not something she really registers until she starts to feel her heart rate slow, her breathing evening out a little and her brain stops racing the way it had been. It still takes a while, she's not sure how long really, but she feels like it's hours from how used to his hold on her she's grown used to. Or rather, aware of.

She moved first, hesitant as she slightly inched away. She feels her heart rate spike a little, but he eases her into it, keeping his hands on her arms, to keep at least some contact with her, afraid if he lets go…well, who knows what he might be thinking would happen if he lets her go. She only knows it feels like she'll continue to fall, like she'll slip through this version of events and go right back to falling from her complex.

“k-kenji?”

“Y-yeah-, it's me, Warryn.” He affirms, hand moving to her cheek to keep her looking at him, more of a way to reassure himself that she isn't gravely hurt. “I…what…do you remember what happened? You showed up at my door, injured and…you were rambling about Gigantron, and Ultraman, and…you brought up Hoshi…”

He trails off after that, looking at her expression for anything that seems like a glimmer of recognition. Her eyes water at the thought and he seems to regret that, moving to tell her something, until she blurts out what she remembers.

“i-I was watching the game, and saw that Gigantron attacked the stadium, so I called you, but you didn't answer. I watched Ultraman and Gigantron fight over the stadium, and then her beam hit the floor above my apartment, and my window shattered, and the building tipped and I was hanging from something, and I fell and…I don't remember what happened after..I…fell and I…am I dead? Did we die? Is this just…a version of heaven for us? For me?”

She continues to ramble on, about the beach, and how she doesn't know how she got there. About Hoshi and how she followed her here. He stops her midway through it all, noting the panic in her voice.

“Hold on, you fell?! You were hanging from something out your window, and you fell?”

She furrowed her brows, remembering the window as it shattered all too clearly. She remembered having moved towards it, it’s a direct overlook to the stadium a two blocks or so away, watching the cracks form as it shattered, as if in slowmo. She recalls tripping over herself as the building was rocked by the force of an explosion above her apartment. She remembers frantically reaching for something, anything. The next thing she remembered after that was hanging there, struggling to hold on before she fell.

“Y…yes…I…was trying to call you, but…you wouldn’t answer and I thought…” Her words die off then. She doesn’t want to say it, she’s still on the fence about whether or not she was still alive. “And then Ultraman showed up to deflect Gigantron’s ray, and I guess…that’s what hit above my apartment…”

There’s a mix of emotions that pass over his face, none she had seen before in…well, such a long time really. She’s gotten so used to his expression being cocky, bored, prideful and sometimes angry. There is something, an emotion she does immediately know on his face, always used around her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Worry.

And that morphs to something she can only think is…guilt?

“Why…didn’t you answer? I was so worried…”

His hands fall to hers now, no words coming to mind. Like he’s trying to find the right ones, but can’t come up with a single one. He holds her hands gently, thumbing over the bandages he wrapped them in, the idea of her being hurt enough to need them seeming to cause him hurt.

“Ken?”

He seems to break off of a trance of some sorts, looking back up at her with that same look. Distantly, she recalls his younger self, that expression being there when he did something he shouldn’t have, or snuck her a cookie when her mom said not to. Maybe…it was guilt? Maybe it was something new she just couldn’t clock?

“I…”

She doesn’t realize she’s holding a breath until he speaks, a soft questioning sound leaving her lips with a quiet hum. “Hm?”

“I didn’t have my phone on me…and I guess when the stadium shook, it broke in my locker…” He sounds off, like he’s trying to sound sure that that was the case, or maybe trying to convince himself that was true? “I just…rode straight here before it got too bad, I guess…I didn’t even think that you’d be in danger…I thought…but the fight didn’t hit anywhere near your apartment? Aren’t you still living near To-oh University?”

She shakes her head. “No…I moved closer to the Stadium, remember? …Get to watch the games for free now…”

In truth, it was so that she was closer to him in some way. Yeah, they talked everyday, yeah, they went out on random little adventures when they each had the time, or when they both had something they wanted to see. They were thick as thieves, but she’d planned to stop by while he was practicing on the field, maybe get some inspiration for her work, both of them seeming to have hit a bit of a slump, though her more so as she was thinking of taking a hiatus.

“Free ga…Ryn…I can get you into any game you want, you just have to ask…you don't need to move that close to the Stadium, especially with the sudden influx of Kaiju, it's dangerous right now…”

“Ken, it’s always dangerous, anywhere here. The fights between the KDF and the Kaiju, and throwing Ultraman in the mix, it’s just, something is always bound to happen.” She attempts to point out, not wanting to admit the reality of what she wanted. She didn’t want to ruin a friendship this old after all. “And it was closer to my studio…” She offers.

“I get it, I really do, but…”

He doesn’t even finish what he’s saying, likely unable to come up with anything after the studio part of her answer. He simply sighs, brushing back the stray dusty hair from her face, something he catches himself doing as he pulls his hand away, clearing his throat.

“I…I left some spare clothes on the counter of my bathroom…why don’t you get cleaned up? I’m not a medical professional and we should get you checked out…ok?”

She’s still holding onto his free hand, trying to let go, but finding herself unable to. Seeing this, he whispers something reassuring to her, she can’t really hear what he said, trying to figure out why she can’t let go of his hand.

“I…um…could you…help me get there?”

She doesn’t really need the help, but she needs the time to let his hand go. Her only guess so far is that it is a fear response, or a response to something like…her need to find something real to hold onto. He nods and, while she’s a bit shaky on her feet, she manages to walk with him to his bedroom, to the door of his bathroom inside. Taking a shaky breath, she feels her fingers slowly unclasp from his. It’s only then she’s realized just how tight she was holding onto him, her hand pulling away to hold onto the frame of his door.

“Sorry I…I got it from here, thanks…”

His hand seems to chase after hers, like even he is afraid to let go, but he catches himself again, unsure of what to do with his hands now that he isn’t holding onto hers.

“O-oh…ok…I…Mina! Start the shower for her please! Warm please!”

It takes her a moment to recall the name belongs to his ai assistant that he’s built into the house. Sure enough, the water starts on its own, already falling warm, the perfect temperature. She takes a step in and finds he did in fact leave spare clothes out for her. She looks back at him, hand on the knob and he’s staring at her, assessing, as if still making sure she is actually alright, something he genuinely hopes the doctors at the emergency room would confirm.

“I…Is it ok if I leave the door open a little?”

His face turns a little red in hue, not a lot, she doesn’t expect it to or hope it really does, but it is something she notices. He nods quickly, flustered as he motions to the bed. “I was actually gonna…I was gonna keep an ear out from the bed…” He says sheepishly.

She doesn't know where she musters the courage for it, only having done so once or twice in her lifetime of knowing him, but she gets on her tiptoes, lips hesitantly pressing against his cheek, her own cheeks matching the hue of red his turn.

“Thank you for caring about me…”

She leaves the door slightly open, glad the mirrors are fogged over. She wipes the adjacent ones on the other wall to get a look at the state of herself, and her breath catches. The bruises are darker, the scrapes angry and inflamed. Her hair is a mess, tangled and feeling like there was still sand in it. There’s gauze bandaged to her cheek, a little clumsily might she add, but covering something beneath it. She pulls it off gently and feels her eyes water at the sight of a dark purple bruise along her jaw. It’s almost the size of her fist, and she faintly recalls her head hitting something while she tumbled out the window.

She’s acutely aware of just how sore she is as she removes the bandages on her hands, and thighs, the one a little more tender to the touch being on her stomach.

Clean up.

She wipes the tears from her eyes gingerly, trying to avoid the aching bruise. She takes the dirty clothes off, and steps in, flinching slightly when the water runs over her injuries. The weight of everything that happened finally crashing down on her. The reality of her situation makes it a thousand times worse. All her things, personal papers, important ones, her computer, her guitars, her clothes…all of it, it’s gone, burned or trapped in a building she knows too well won’t be cleared to get into until the structural integrity is assured to be safe enough to do so. The tears mix with the water as she stays under it for what feels like hours, but is likely only a few minutes. Her hair clings to her face and shoulders, still tangled, probably tangling further. She takes a moment to compose herself, trying to control her breathing. She doesn’t want to worry Kenji further after all. She was an adult, she could deal with things like this herself. Not necessarily alone, but herself.

By the time she steps out of the shower, her eyes feel dry, but she at least feels cleaner. The sand out of her hair, the dust and soot cleared off her skin, though still in her nose and throat when she finds her nose is running with a watery mucus speckled with soot. She looks at the clothes he’s left her, a black t-shirt that's entirely too big for her, his sweatpants, and almost embarrassingly enough, a pair of unused boxers, still rolled up and kept that way by a tiny strip of tape. Carefully, she throws the clothes on, noting her dirty clothes aren’t on the ground in a corner anymore. Had he come in to collect it to wash? Had Mina done so? She steps out, half expecting to find Kenji staring the door down with worry, but finding him missing, and…something making a screeching noise very close by.

Was it another Kaiju? It doesn’t sound like one she knows personally, but it's loud, and close. Panic fills her mind then. Where was he? Was he ok?

“K-Ken?”

Her voice squeaks out, her throat suddenly dry as she quickly leaves his room. Maybe…maybe the basement? He has the cars downstairs, maybe he doesn’t even hear how close the kaiju is? Maybe he’s getting a car to take her to the hospital?

Without thinking of even asking Mina about where he is, she’s already in the elevator, her thumb allowing her access as she had come to find out months before. It starts its way down, and she would gladly admit that the moment she realized the sound of the kaiju screeching and chirping was actually getting louder, and sounding closer, freaked her out more. But not as much as the sight of Ultraman dropping a half ton of fish down into a large glass…containment unit…in Kenji’s basement. The scream she lets out is involuntary, the sight of a massive pink…baby kaiju in the glass unit startling her.

Ultraman’s head whips around, the color timer on his chest flickering almost aggressively as he suddenly shrunk and transformed, leaving her head spinning.

It was Kenji standing there. Not just a human sized Ultraman or something. Just… a frazzled and panicked Kenji, on his ass, looking at her likely equally startled.

“I-I can explain!”

[ladyshrike]

Giving Into The Love

Kenji Sato X Best Friend

A story I'm working on over on AO3, thought I'd share it here too.

(Word Count: 1351)

Chapter 1:

One | Two | Three | Four |

Hold on.

It's the only thing she can tell herself as she tries her hardest to tighten her grip on the support beam…or rusted pipe or whatever she was hanging off of. Her ears are ringing. Her hands burn with the effort to hold herself there. Her body feels sore, her head is still spinning and her vision is blurred with the settling debris and smoke of the fire below. Her lungs burn as she looks around, panic setting in.

Hold on.

She feels her hold slip in the slightest and she is quick to tighten it again, a sharp gasp leaving her lips.Any other noise dies off before she can make it. Distantly, and muffled to her ears, she hears what sounds like helicopters hovering nearby, the breeze is harsh but too warm to discern whether they are close by or not. There’s screaming from below and for the slightest moment, she wonders why of all days she thought it would be a great idea to just walk around her apartment wearing Kenji's jersey, a spare he had given her when he played for the Dodgers. And her underwear. Nothing else, save a sports bra below the jersey.

Gods…hold on.

Maybe, she thought Ultraman would spot her, would help her before she fell to her death. Maybe, a rescue copter would appear with someone repelling down to get her to safety. Maybe…it would be fast-

She re-tightens her hold, breath heavy and uneven, eyes burning with tears from the smoke and from the idea that this is how she would spend her last moments, if these were her last moments. Not knowing if Kenji was safe. Not knowing if she would be saved. Not knowing if…perhaps the last time he’ll see her is at a funeral, possibly uneven able to do that. Would she still look enough like herself-

“H…he…” The word dies off in her throat, a sob ripping free from her lips. “H…Help!”

She wasn’t sure if over all the noise, all the commotion, anyone heard her. She wouldn’t fault them if they didn’t. Too noisy. Too much to do. Too many to save on time. She was sure of one thing, she wouldn’t fault anyone for not being able to save her.

“Help!”

That one is a little louder, her voice a little more winded as she struggles to breathe. She makes the mistake of looking down for the briefest moment, seeing people peppered below, barricades already up and emergency services surrounding the area, spread thin by the collateral destruction of the battle. Her heart drops because, my gods…if she slipped, all those people would…

There’s a strong gust, a light clears the way towards her and for the briefest moment, she swears she sees her parents in the faces of the rescue crew. She swears they are there, the world around her muffling further. A pass of the helicopter blade, and its panicked gazes, growing higher and…oh…

She blinks, the wind is rushing around her over the sounds of screams below. The pipe she had been holding onto is growing tiny, eventually hidden by the smoke that blows around it. She closes her eyes, expects everything to just go dark around her. She expects…she doesn’t know what she expects, really. Maybe nothing at all, maybe to just…cease?

But instead, she feels the cool rush of air in her face. She feels the soft spray of an ocean breeze. She feels…still warm sand along her exposed skin.

Opening her eyes, she finds herself looking up at the night sky, clearer than the one she had been keeping her eyes trained on the moment she caught…whatever she had been holding onto. The stars are out in full effect, the moon bright and low in the sky, a perfect crescent. Waves crash to her right, and she’s almost scared to look that way. Was this…a memory in the last moments of brain activity? A way for her brain to cope with dying? A way to keep her calm as her heart slows and her lungs collapse?

She hesitantly turns, and to her surprise…the coast is just…there. A familiar one. A memory invades her mind then.

“Kenji! Don’t be mean!” Warryn pouts, her sand castle laying destroyed by a rather massive water balloon.

“Not being mean! I told you I was playing with water balloons in this spot!” He argues.

“Easy there, you two. Why don’t you two go play together instead. That way you’re both happy?” His mother tries to appease both, sitting beneath an umbrella as she watches them play on the hot summer day.

“No! He ruined my castle! How will Princess Ultraman become queen now?” Warryn huffs, plopping down on the warm wet sand, holding the poseable action figure she had put a Barbie dress on. She’s quiet, sniffling and genuinely just wanting to go home at this point. She’s only four, two years younger than Kenji, and rightfully so, still childish. Until, that is, she hears a splash near her. She thinks, for a moment, that Kenji is still being mean. That he’s tried throwing a water balloon at her and missed, but when she looks up, ready to unleash a torrent of tantrum-y exasperation, she stops. Her eyes are a little wider, what she’d thought he was doing not meeting the reality of what he was doing.

He sits ahead of her, on the other side of the wet sand, sitting atop his legs as he pushes wet sand into the castle shaped mold bucket. He flips it, concentration creasing his slightly sweaty brow. He removes it slowly, a bit clumsily really, and gives an awkward laugh when the splotchy wet sand castle crumbles slightly despite his effort to be careful.

“It’s not perfect…but I think Princess Ultraman can fix it…don’t you?”

Warryn blinks slowly, still numb. She was…on the beach they visited every summer. A full half hour from her apartment near the stadium…and close by.

She isn’t sure how she manages, but she’s standing, arms and legs covered in dry sand that slowly but surely blows off of her skin with the soft breeze. Beneath that sand is soot, scrapes that she is sure burn with the sand on her, and bruises that are beginning to mottle her skin in hues of blues, purples and yellows. But it's not what's on her mind, it's the familiar figure that has caused her so much grief standing yards away. Small, barely 40 inches in height. Soft yellow sundress and straw hat atop her head, shielding the soft black locks that she had curled for her the day they left LA. She starts to walk away and she follows, not even sure if she’s breathing, or if this was the hallucinating effects of hypoxia playing tricks on her mind.

But she follows.

Her steps are staggered, she likely looks like a crazy person on the streets, but she can’t find a way to care. Image be damned.

The figure looks back, a soft giggle echoes in her ears before she takes off, Warryn following close after, but never getting any closer. Even when she comes upon a familiar street. When the child stops just before a driveway she knows all too well. The figure never gets close enough to discern other features, just a smile.

“Hoshi…”

Her eyes burn and she blinks. When she opens her eyes again, she’s alone in the driveway. Heart beating wildly. Her eyes fall on the door. She wasn’t well. She could feel it. Something was wrong, something was…different. And if she were met with silence upon knocking…then she would rest assured the security system would call for help, as it had when she had passed out from dehydration months back at the beginning of his move here. She knocks twice. It’s all she finds herself able to do.

What happens after, she isn’t sure. She swears she see’s Kenji. Or maybe it's still hypoxia playing tricks on her, she could have the wrong house after all, but just the thought of it possibly being him…it eases her mind.

[ladyshrike]

The Four Times You Say His Full Name

Am I any good at writing? Not really. It's all over the place in my opinion, but I had to get this thought out one way or another.

The four times you called him by his full name.

This first time you called him "Kenji" instead of a nickname, was back in LA. You were working a wedding up in Griffith Park, a beautiful little affair under the strawberry moon. It's all the witchy vibes you adore, a little wedding mixed with a baby shower, good vibes, blessings and tides. They'd offered you some food, which you wouldn't turn down as a known foodie, and that was when you got the call.

Ken had been riding home from the party in the hills and crashed his bike. He wasn't too far from Griffith, that had been the good part of taking this job, and he's been taken to Silver lake, a quick drive from the park. The couple is understanding, eventually becoming good friends with her later on, but that's a story for another time. She's racing through the streets, down the hills and to the hospital. They hadn't given you much information, just that he'd crashed and where he was. And when you get there, you ask the charge nurse for him, only to feel his arms throw themselves around your shoulders, a slightly pointed chin resting atop your head. You immediately smell the alcohol, and it's almost instant that a rage fills your chest.

"Babe! Baby! Sweetcakes~"

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to implode then and there. You look at the nurse in front of you and take small controlled breaths.

"Is he free to go home?"

He was, having been checked over and kept under observation for two hours before they called her. According to her it's just some bad scrapes and bruises, no contusions or anything super bad, he had actually been wearing his helmet at least, just not his jacket. His bike is totaled, helmet cracked, it really is surprising that he didn't have a concussion at the very least, but through even your anger and worry, you're glad he's ok.

You drive him home, and the way there is silent. He'd sensed something was up the way you were being so cold with him, pushing his hand off your thigh, turning your head when he tried to kiss your lips, avoiding eye contact with you. And when you guys get to your shared home, and you help him in, is it the only time since the hospital that you look him in the eyes.

He sees it immediately. That rage that's practically sobering for him. The hurt. Disappointment.

It's not the only time he's ever done this, and he's not particularly tempted to tell you those two words he just knows would just set you off even if it were true.

"Mina, emergency vital check."

The floating AI robot scans him as she stands there for a moment, looking over him herself. The tension so palpable, if she chose to raise a hand at him in her frustration, she could very well slap him with it. But that wasn't her. She was the sweetest thing, practically a Disney princess, so the anger in her eyes is surprising, and new.

"He has two deep road rash injuries, and a large scrape down his side that isn't as bad as the other two. No fractures and no concussion. I suggest monitoring for any latent signs."

"Get him hooked up to a banana bag, then look up flights to Japan."

He shouldn't try to joke, or anything, but the soft scoff leaves his lips before he could stop it.

"Japan? We goin-"

"We, are not going anywhere. I'm going home to see my dad. Maybe we'll talk. Maybe we won't."

His small smile falls, a slight wince given when the IV is put in.

"Is something...is he ok?"

You shoot him a look because you know he's smart enough to understand what you were saying. You didn't want to say it, but you were done. With the empty promises, the lies, the hospital visits. You were done with it.

"Sabine-"

"Kenji, I'm done, ok? I've had it."

And there it is. He thought his parents splitting up was the worst pain, but seeing you stand at the doorway, teary eyed in anger and barely breathing steady, it shatters his heart because he can see it. You are done.

"I only ever asked you for two things. Two. And I am grateful you can at least follow one. I'll give you that, you have never cheated on me and I thank you for that. But if you constantly break this one? Constantly do this shit? How do I know that'll last?"

"H-hey, hold on-"

"No, I am done. I love you. I love your mom. You two are...the only people I consider myself close to here, but I cannot deal with this anymore. I can't deal with thinking one day I'm gonna get a call and have to identify your corpse instead of picking you up from an ER."

"It's just a couple scratches, I'm fine-"

He's done it now. He's said it.

"Forget it."

She grabs her wallet, and just her wallet. It's the only thing in her bag that she's bought herself as her bag had been a gift from him. She heads out and he tries to follow her, not able to get to her before she's speeding out of the driveway. She feels like a hypocrite, because while she isn't drunk, she is speeding like she's a NASCAR driver, and in a residential no less. She doesn't care to look at the time when she arrives at the airport, hoping to find at least one flight outbound to Japan soon. The car can stay in the parking structure for all she cares at this point, he would get a call to pick it up at the end of the month, if she decides not to come back. Her phone vibrates incessantly in her pocket for a bit, even as she's paying for the ticket she's managed to snag so last minute. Her passport is always in her wallet, so she doesn't particularly worry about how she'd get there without it. She turns her phone off, and soon enough, she's on the plane, watching LAX turn into a massive black splotch with dozens of tiny lights speckled across it in almost neat lines, as the plane departs. She's glad for the little privacy her seat offers her in first class. It's a long flight, the seats recline into a bed and everyone has their headphones on, so she isn't particularly worried that they'll hear her already quiet broken sobs.

By the end of the month, your mind is made up. You'd started accepting his calls sometime in the middle of his season. You know you shouldn't have been watching the games, it would only make the hurt worse, but it was better than ignoring him completely. And that wasn't really possible when you get notifications about him on all your social media, all which say he's in a slump and you are nowhere to be seen at his games. Everyday since you'd left, there had been a voicemail. Apologies, checking in messages, more apologies, declarations of love, and to your utmost surprise, a recording of his introduction at an AA meeting. That one particularly stuck with her. Everyday, roughly at 8 pm, a call and a voicemail with his introduction.

Maybe that was why you started taking his calls. Maybe that was why his game was getting better, back to what he usually is at. His averages get better and you, for the most part, find your anger having dissipated. By the end of the month, you're hesitantly standing in his living room as he tries to clean up the bit of clutter he had around. His shirt rides up a little and you see it. The slight scarring from the massive scrape down his side. Your lips quivers and he stops completely, dead in his tracks. He's startled by the sight of those huge wet tears that build in your eyes and his arms are around you instantly, tightly wound to prove he was ok. That he was still there. He was safe.

You cry again that night, held in his arms. He misses the game the next day. He has his thirty day chip to show you after all, and he doesn't want to leave your side to make up for lost time. He swears a promise not to do it ever again. Drink and ride he means. He isn't an alcoholic, and the AA meetings were necessary to get his license back, but he wanted her to see he regretted his decisions wholeheartedly.

The second time you said his full name was at your wedding. A year from the date he proposed to you, rather clichely you'd admit, at your monthly trip to Disneyland. The team had won a game, they were given a PR trip to Disneyland and she was an annual pass holder. She met them there, and during the cavalcade with them, he stepped off as they got to the castle, where she stood watching, and he popped the question, on one knee with a simple little ring she had spotted in a jewelry store. The team, having been in on it, cheering them on when she tearfully said yes.

Now she stands at the alter, in a gorgeous dress that fits her like a glove, his mother as her maid of Honor, and her dad as his best man because let's be honest, he thought of him as a son at this point, the way his mom thought of her as her own daughter in the time they'd all known each other, and the ceremony is relatively small, less than fifty guests, very intimate.

It's during her vows, her promises to him and vice versa that she says it. Beautifully charming smile on those lovely glossy lips of hers.

"I, Sabine Baji, take you, Kenji Sato, as my husband. Through sickness and in health, through the good times and the bad, till death do us part."

It's the sweet and short of her vows, tearfully said as her emotions run rampant. The rest of the night spent energetically celebrating.

The third time is a little more...non PG.

It's off season, he's been training here and there, enjoying some time off in their big house up in the hills. She's spending the weekend babysitting between gigs and she's been...quiet. Maybe it was the fact that she was around them so often. Maybe, it was the fact that her friends just had a little one she was watching currently, that clung to her so jealously when Kenji came around for a cuddle too. Maybe she was ovulating. The exact cause of this scenario was a blur to her really. She just recalled, well, he recalled and told her it was how it went down. Swears by it that she, as the family was driving away with the baby, fast asleep curled up in a hoodie it wouldn't let go or give back, that she looked up at him and said it.

"Kenji." It's the first time in a long time that she says his name, so he worries maybe he did something wrong again without noticing, but the look in your eyes in determined, is heated...pleading. "I want a baby."

The night didn't end for you two there. You both lost count somewhere after three, overstimulated and yet continuing like bunnies in heat. You blame the baby fever, and maybe the wine during lunch, but the venture is fruitful two months later, when four pink lines, two on each stick, and the word 'Pregnant' in bold on the digital test are laid before you two on the bathroom counter.

The same counter he would quickly have you laying against as he spread your thighs open wider, held you closer, got a little rougher with his thrusts, aiming to make the baby in you twins, according to him. Something not fruitful, unfortunately for him, but enjoyable at least.

And that takes us to the fourth and perhaps not final time you ever say his name.

Seven months later, you feel like a ship. The little peanut, you two so kindly nicknamed the baby while looking for a name, kicking around, shifting about, giving you some of the most ravenous cravings you'd ever had. Braxton Hicks, you came to be brutally informed of when waking in the middle of the night in a labor scare, had finally died off.

Or so you had thought.

When the first stab of pain shot through your side, you'd simply grimaced and sighed, shifting on the couch during the somewhat humid autumn day. You had decided to stay the Halloween weekend in, instead of going to a party while you felt like a boat. Kenji immediately notes the discomfort and tries to help.

"You want your little heart ice pack?"

You shake your head, yawning softly because yeah, it hurt, but you were too tired. You just wanted to go to sleep already.

"Ngh...no...just wanna go sleep already...come with me?"

How could he say no? He takes your hand when you ask for help getting up, and you both feel it. The sudden rush of water on your legs, his slippers. Your face is beet red and he's confused for all of two seconds before he's scrambling for the "go" bag. A Dodger duffle bag that the team's wives/significant others had decorated for them. He'd filled it with extra clothes for them, babies first outfits, washed in baby detergent, and a picture of his mom and her dad, both who couldn't be there today. You groan in annoyance because that was your favorite rug now covered in amniotic fluid, and now you would probably stain the carseats because you were not about to try and change your pants in active labor.

(Kenji had that covered, gingerly pulling your panties and pants off and helping you out new ones on, after cleaning you up with a damp towel after all. Kiss to your belly and all.)

You say it, however, sixteen hours into active labor. Minutes before midnight, almost Halloween day, like your baby wanted to share a birthday with you, which you would never mind as long as you get to hold her. It's when a particularly sharp labor pain hits that you yell it, gripping his hand so tightly you swear you hear his hand crack.

It's angry, and pained, and you swear, just after saying his full government name, that you would make him feel how this felt. No amount of epidural helped this pain, no amount of Lamaze Breathing or doulas helped prepare her or take this pain any better. She'd find a way for him to carry and birth the next one even if she'd have to become a mad scientist. She isn't good with pain already and this isn't helping.

"Kenji Sato! You are having the next one, got I-ngh!!!GOT IT?!"

He just about passed out when they announce you're crowning, because for some gods forsaken reason, he decides to look beyond the blue sheet. It's a horror he will never forget, and he swears he won't put you through another round of whatever your anatomy was doing to push yours and his little princess out of you.

And then she's there.

She's in your arms first, he's busy gathering his emotions as they cut the umbilical cord for him, and you need the first few minutes of skin to skin with her before she has to get cleaned up and given her first dose of vaccines. He holds her after, eyes bleary with tears as he does so so gingerly. He doesn't want to hurt her, doesn't want to accidentally harm her tiny little fragile body. She's a perfect amalgamation of you two. His eyes, a grayish blue, but the rest, he will happily and readily proudly admit, is all your looks. Tousled full head of soft pinky fuschia hair, eyebrows to match, rosy cheeks and little pouty lips. He swears, on everything he loves, she smiles when he is told to do skin to skin with her as well. When she curls into his warmth while you are cleaned up by the nurses. And when you two are able to take her home, when you are given the all clear and she passes her car seat test, and you three are finally back in your house, settling her down in her side sleeper by your bed, it's clear that the few times you use his full name can be bad, but most of them?

They're worth it.

[ladyshrike]

FINISHED PART 2!

After making the first one I have so many ideas for these two =v=)💦