I.

Whale Island is its own little world, it has everything it needs.

Scenic (and dangerous for those who don't know where to tread) forests, friendly (and dangerous) fauna, glorious, sunset-basked oceans (with sizeable fish) and an idyllic (if small) peaceful village. People came and people went, there were very few humans who lived constantly on its shores but the island valued them all the same. Their happiness was its happiness. Just as the peaceful living of the animals brought it joy, so too did the daily lives of these two-legged peoples.

Those rare few who started gardens never lacked in their harvest, bread in the oven swelled but did not burn and the fishermen always brought in a good haul. Yes, Whale Island was a, well, island unto itself. Even if these little two-legs came and went on their wood-carved floats they always left it with lovely memories, and it was all too content to return the favor. It had everything. Really, it did.

Except…

It had no children.

It had cubs, kids, kits and chicks but it did not have two leg children. Not since the lovely boy with the golden eyes had left and the girl had become woman and stayed. For on the fishing outpost (that was what they called the island) where people came and went, there were very few who stayed and grew. But that did not mean that the people had forgotten. There was a heaviness around Whale Island's two legs that had not been there before. The laughter was gone. The two legs went on their merry way to and fro to the other lands but those who stayed lacked something that was no longer there. It was a necessary part of the cycle of life. The two legs needed the laughter- and the island knew just how to do it.

Laura sat up.

There was nothing special about that moment when she sat up, after all one tended to sit up after waking up in the morning. There were, of course, those who rolled out of bed instead but that was neither here nor there and Laura was not one of these people to begin with. No, it was quite normal for her to sit up, yawn, stretch, give her slumbering husband a chaste kiss and then leap up to get ready for the day. And so Rolf, of course, expected these things to happen. They were the norm, why should they not? Except they didn't, because Laura sat up… and then did not move.

"Laura?" he propped himself up on an elbow, brown hair tussled by sleep "Is something the matter?"

Light peeked through the windows as the sun began to rise. Soon, the island would be bustling with life; the fishermen heading out to retrieve the day's haul and later meet the ships from the mainland docking in for this month's supplies. It would be a cloudless, sunny day, fair weather all around and smiles just the same. A normal day and yet she felt as though something special had begun.

"Nothing at all" she turned to her husband and smiled, a hand absently pressed against her stomach "Just a wonderful dream."

"Who are you?"

…

"Oh… really?"

…

"Can you blame me? Something like that is a little hard to believe you know."

…

"I guess it's a matter of faith. So, do you have a name?"

Whale Island was her home.

Laura knew and understood that in the way that one knew and understood that the sky was blue and the grass was green. She knew it in her mother's smile and cookies and how her father would nuzzle her with his beard or pick her up and spin her around. They were already showing grey hairs by the time she was in her late teens, but they filled her up with love enough to last her forever. Rolf, with his bright smiles and warm eyes, filled her up with even more. Whale Island was her home and she would never want to leave it, so he decided he would stay, too and that made her love him all the more.

She was eighteen years old when Ging left the island at eleven-going-on-twelve. It's enough to make anyone wonder what he has that no one else does.

But taking one look at his eyes as he left, she understood. He wants 'something' and it is not in blue oceans, green forests or the belly of the whale. Whale Island is his home, but he can always come back to it.

Gently holding Mito's hand, she waved him goodbye with a smile.

"That's a long name, you know. I can't even remember the first part of it."

…

"I guess I believe you. I mean… I'm here right? There's no going back."

…

"…what?"

The ocean was his home.

Rolf knew and understood that in the way that one knew and understood that the sky was blue and the grass was green. He knew it in the salt of the waves, the firm clap of the captain's hand on his shoulder and the broad smiles of the men he has spent his whole life with. They were old and burly men who know love but have their own families to go to- far away from him. They filled him with warmth and love enough to last him forever. Laura, with her gentle laughter and warm smiles, filled him up with even more. The ocean is his home and Whale Island is right next to it, so he doesn't mind staying and loved the love in her eyes when he decided to stay.

He was nineteen years old when little Mito stood on the shore at four-going-on-five. It's enough to make him wonder how anyone can leave a child behind.

But taking one look at that near tears little girl, he understood. There is 'something' that Ging wants that is not here, and she knows it too. Whale Island is her home and his but she will stay and watch it until he returns.

Slinging an arm around Mito's shoulders, he nodded a quiet farewell.

…

"I've been thinking about what you said. And I guess… I…"

…

"All right all right! I- I do! Yes! I accept!"

…

"Oh be quiet."

One month passes before she is kneeling over the toilet bowl. Sickness, the doctor says somberly. Bed rest will do you well, here are some herbs. Laura lies at home and Rolf comes home fretting to her every day. She says she feels fine and when she's had enough of it she gets back on her feet and works regardless of the reprimands, waving them all off in a careless way that gets the older women talking about her father. She rolls her eyes at their good-natured teasing and life goes on.

Three months pass before she realizes her stomach has grown.

She does not dare to hope where she has hoped too many times before. Standing poised before the mirror, she clasps Rolf's hand tightly. Something stirs in the subtle undertones of daily life, something special, and she cannot help but think of her dream.

Five months pass and she knows it's real even though it feels too good to be true.

Whale Island is alive in a way that it hasn't been in years. The women living on the island all scurry to check on her. They bring herbs and gifts and laughter. The men take Rolf, tell him he's in for a hell of a ride and celebrate with booze. More than one man (and woman) wake with a headache the next morning but everyone is still bright with cheer. Laura and Rolf glow with joy all the while.

Eight months and they are nearly there.

She's tense and excited and the women are taking up watch. Even little Mito is a constant by her side, face drawn and ready with every motion. The girl's grandmother is there as well, all knowing smiles and wise eyes. Rolf works harder than ever, elated and frightened all at once. The village is buzzing.

The ninth month arrives.

…

"Ah so it's time? Good, I was kind of getting bored here."

…

"You're good company! Just… a little out there."

…

"Yeah yeah. …hey. Thank you. Really. Thank you."

…

She is a wailing baby girl with carrot-colored hair and dark, dark eyes. Rolf says she looks like her mother, Laura says she'll have her father's eyes. Neither of them can stop the swell of emotions and tears of joy. They name her Noko.

Mito has helped with the delivery, her eyes are wide and she seems caught between the trauma of bearing witness and enthusiasm at the bouncing baby girl. She cradles her in her arms, all laughter and smiles with her grandmother peering over her shoulder. The old woman's eyes bear a knowing twinkle as she stares down at the white-clothed bundle.

Noko smiles.