Children
---
noun, plural: a person between birth and full growth; a son or daughter; a baby or infant; a human fetus
---
Sachiko Yagami learnt early on that children were not things that lasted. That, given the slightest chance, fate would snatch them away, leaving behind a pair of bewildered parents and a too-small coffin.
She was twenty-four when Baby 1 died, and had been a Yagami for less than a year. Wedded life could not have been more perfect- her husband was devoted, even if his job meant he was away so often. Said job was well-paid, and when they'd learnt Sachiko was pregnant, words could not have expressed their delight.
It had never occurred to her that she hadn't deserved it, that something had to go because no-one's life was ever this good, not in the real world.
Reality came knocking in the form of a stabbing pain in the abdomen one September afternoon, in the form of an ambulance rushing her to hospital, in the form of doctors crowding around and saying how very sorry they were, but they couldn't do anything for her baby.
She and Soichiro had gone home without it- it had been too small to have a proper burial. Baby 2 joined it in the hospital waste disposal a year and a half later.
Baby 3 made it to birth and they'd finally allowed themselves a little hope, a name, a nursery. But when the midwives finally dragged him out of Sachiko, little Takeshi was quiet. No cry, no first wail to lead to a first breath. The doctors had rushed the purplish body out, leaving the bewildered Yagami adults behind with only a nurse to offer empty words of comfort and a cleanup.
Takeshi was returned to them within the hour. Not dead yet, said the doctors, give it five years or so. Their son, their beautiful, precious baby boy had Ohtahara syndrome. His brain had been starved of blood when he hadn't cried and now it was irreparably, horrifically damaged. When he was finally cleared to go, it was with the warning that he would never talk, never walk, never even know who they were.
Light was born three years later so that Sachiko would have something to busy herself with, to take her mind off the pain when it inevitably arrived. He wailed, he breathed, and finally the doctors looked at her and congratulated her on a successful birth.
That night, looking down at her sons (Takeshi still had to sleep in their room for fear of his dying in the night), Sachiko stared at the newer one and found that she felt nothing. Takeshi may have been wholly unresponsive, but Light was, and could only ever be, a replacement, a distraction. Nothing more. When the boys were woken by each others' crying, it was the two-day-old Light who was put into his own room, and when Takeshi finally died a few years later, the distraction was ignored in favour of his mother's grief for a son who never knew her.
Never mind the confused look on the three-year-old's face, the hurt in his eyes as she failed to explain where his big brother had gone, or even to give him a hug (those tasks were eventually allocated to Soichiro, who cared, but there was a funeral to plan and relatives to see and endless paperwork to sort through, so he was almost never around).
Two babies later, Sayu was born. Unconnected to Takeshi, she was beautiful, perfect, the apple of her mother's eye. Light sat in a corner whilst the relatives crammed into the house, unnoticed, just as he had been when his brother died.
No more babies, the adults later said, though there was still one clump of cells left to be dumped in the hospital waste system before it was actually over.
After all that, Sachiko was hardly surprised when Light swanned off to live with Misa (it was always going to happen), although she did get a little suspicious when Soichiro also vanished for nearly two months. She fretted when Sayu was kidnapped though. The girl was returned a few days later, and then both her children reminded her of Takeshi- Light the replacement, with his hurt, confused eyes and Sayu the lookalike with her blank ones.
When Light was finally claimed by Kira, Sachiko acted out the part of staunch, grieving mother to perfection. She'd had plenty of practice, so it was relatively easy, especially since any emotion that came with the act was lost with (Takeshi) Sayu.
---
Author's Note: I'm aware that this Sachiko contrasts with the one in the first ficlet in this series, who loves Light and Sayu. My excuse? The first one was filmverse, this isn't (I treat the films as something of an AU). I've also probably not been a hundred percent accurate with the issues involved, but I've tried to be as tactful as I can.
Dedicated to my mother, who has been pregnant seven times. Three of those children made it to birth, and we count ourselves lucky there were no defects.