Notes: Hey, look, I'm still around! I wanted to put this up before I reply to reviews, but I will try to reply to everyone. Replying to older reviews makes me nervous for some reason, so a general thank you to all you lovely readers. Your support and enthusiasm helps keep me motivated. Also, I've noticed that 's line breaks (that is, the ones between scenes) don't show up on Readability or the reader in Safari on my iPod. I'm not quite sure how I'll deal with that, yet, but if I start adding weird scene breaks… that's why.

This chapter changed a lot over the course of the time I've been working on it, at least. I changed some stuff from my what I was originally planning, and added some stuff; hopefully it all worked out for the better. I decided to post the first half now, because there are still some characterization things I have to comb over in the second half.

This chapter is Egoist, the next chapter (eighteen, will be twenty-seven in the dropdown menu) is Egoist with Romantica visiting (second scene), and then the chapter after that (nineteen; will be either twenty-eight or twenty-nine on the dropdown menu, most likely the former) will have all couples, including Mistake, in an individual section devoted to each pairing, as will chapter twenty.

Title taken this time from Semisonic's "Closing Time".

Chapter 17: Every New Beginning is Some Other Beginning's End

The minute hand seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. It would probably be helpful if Hiroki stopped watching it, but he couldn't bring himself to, instead trying to will the minutes to pass by faster to the scheduled appointment time. Just five more minutes, and these nearly forty weeks of waiting, dreading, and suffering things he'd never thought he'd have to go through would be over.

Well, the pregnancy would be over, anyway. Then he had another, what, eighteen years, at least?

…Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps he'd been temporarily devoid of all reason for the past nine or so months.

"You're getting cold feet," Nowaki told him when he voiced those concerns. The man was sitting to his left, a perfect picture of tranquility highlighted by an unoffensive beige backdrop. "It won't be much longer, Hiro-san, and then we'll have a beautiful baby girl to hold. Focus on that, instead."

"I can't wait to see my granddaughter!" his mother opined upon hearing Nowaki, and Hiroki tried not to glower too hard at her. Of course she'd finagled her way into being at the birth, so to speak. That was just what she did. The opposite of the composed Nowaki, his mother was fidgeting despite her age, like she was barely able to clamp down on her anticipation. On her lap was the book she declared herself "too excited" to read, her reading glasses tucked under her hands as she kept a firm grip on the novel. "I don't think I told you, Hiroki, but you'll appreciate this: I already bought Yuzumi her first book."

It took Hiroki a moment to process what his mother had said. Even though they'd finally decided on the name Yuzumi two weeks ago, he still wasn't use to hearing it, or thinking about the unborn baby by that term. It didn't help, either, that he'd held out on choosing a name for so long because he was still gunning for the name Murasaki (Nowaki pointed out that it wouldn't be such a good idea to set their daughter up for a complex from the start). His mother had been rather unimpressed with the name they'd chosen when they first told her, but then Nowaki had pointed out that her name contained a fruit, too. From then, she'd fawned over the perfection of the name until Hiroki had sent her a sharp enough glare to make her quiet down about it.

He thought back to what she'd just said. "Wait, what? Her first book? Do you mean the plush you bought on Nowaki's birthday?"

His mother laughed. "No, of course not. That wasn't an actual book, just a fake one."

"What?" Hiroki said loudly, with, he grudgingly admitted, a slight whine, and his mother nearly jumped in surprise at his tone of voice. "But I was going to do that."

"Well, if you want, I could always return it," his mother said.

"No, no, it's alright," he replied. He hadn't meant to sound like a petulant child, really.

"If it makes you feel better, Hiro-san, baby books have a tendency to contain nouns and pictures and not much else," Nowaki said, rubbing Hiroki's arm; Hiroki held back a scowl. "You can always get Yuzumi her first book that has more substance."

Hiroki considered this for a moment. "True. They have classical literature books for children, don't they?"

"Uh, yes, I think so," Nowaki said slowly. Then he turned to Hiroki's mother, meeting her gaze over Hiroki's shoulder. "So what kind of picture book did you get, Mother?"

"Oh, one on fruits."

"Fruits and vegetables?"

Her face formed into a delicate scowl much like her son's. "No, just fruits. Like peaches and yuzus!"

Hiroki groaned and resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

Nowaki just smiled at her politely. "That's nice, " he said placidly. His gaze fell towards the clock on the wall. "Ah, they should be —"

"Kamijou Hiroki?" The young nurse had a clipboard in his hand and was peering into the waiting room. Hiroki thought the man hadn't need to bother with calling him in, since they were the only ones here (a guarantee that came with being a pregnant man, as no one else was supposed to see).

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled as he got up, Nowaki and his mother both trying to help him. He scowled at them, feeling a sudden flash of relief at the thought that soon enough he wouldn't have to deal with a constantly worried mother and Nowaki.

…Well, over him, anyway.

The nursery held about twenty-five babies in various states of consciousness. The most recent arrival, Kamijou Yuzumi, occupied the bassinet furthest from the viewing glass Nowaki was currently looking through.

He'd visited Hiroki first, but Hiroki had been so groggy and dazed from surgery and pain meds that Nowaki had decided it would be best to visit him after at least an hour had passed. The elder Kamijou had left not long after the surgery, saying something about having people to call and promising to be back when they started to allow Yuzumi out of the nursery.

So now here he was, starring at his newborn daughter, so awestruck he almost didn't hear his name being called.

"Kusama-san," a familiar voice reverberated down the hall and Nowaki swallowed down a lump in his throat as he turned to the see the Chief of Medicine, Miyake Yutaka.

"Did you call my name, Miyake-Sensei?" Nowaki said, bowing slightly. "I'm sorry, but I'm off the clock right now —"

"I know," the man said as he reached where Nowaki was standing, briefly glancing into the nursery before meeting Nowaki's eyes. "I'd like to discuss something with you regarding… Kamijou Yuzumi."

Nowaki stiffened as a chill slithered down his spine and an unpleasant sensation settled in his gut. He tried to say something — anything — but his mouth did not want to form words. Finally he managed an, "excuse me…?"

The older man patted Nowaki on the shoulder. "Come on, let's walk to my office." Nowaki figured he must have looked something awful, because Miyake-Sensei sighed and said, "It's not as bad as you think. Just come with me, please, Kusama-san."

Nowaki's heartbeat seemed to get faster and faster with every step down the hall to Miyake-Sensei's office. The man didn't normally call people down to his office like this. Nowaki knew him quite well, as Miyake-Sensei had examined the children at Kusama Orphanage gratis ever since Nowaki could remember. Back then, the doctor had been a younger man with kind hazel eyes and bright red hair, and while his hair had gone salt-and-pepper grey and his face had taken on years of wrinkles, the man was just as kind as Nowaki remembered him being. Miyake-Sensei had been delighted to welcome Nowaki as an intern, and while the man certainly didn't play favorites, Nowaki found him to be a more than suitable boss, far more lenient than most other men in his position would be when it came to the male pregnancy cases.

Still, Nowaki knew the hospital he worked at was an outlier in their treatment of the male pregnancy cases, and this had cost them quite a bit of money from donors "in the know", so to speak. From what he'd heard through the grapevine, new donors had slowly started appearing to make up the difference, but it was still affecting the hospital. A number of very good doctors had quit for better paying jobs, and while the hospital's lenient policy towards employees who were affected by male pregnancy had attracted equally good replacements, the transition hadn't exactly been easy.

He thought about this as he walked next to Miyake-Sensei, at a slightly slower pace, partially because he didn't want to overtake his boss on the way to the man's office, but also as a way to delay whatever news he was to be told, as if in some vain hope that if they took long enough to get to there, the problem would just resolve itself on it's on own.

By the time they arrived at Miyake-Sensei's office, Nowaki's hands were covered in sweat and his neck wasn't doing much better. Somewhere in his mind he was thinking that this was the sympathetic system in action, but that didn't do much to calm his jumpy nerves.

"Take a seat, Kusama-san," Miyake-Sensei said, gesturing to the leather chair in front of his desk. Nowaki did his best not to fidget, trying his hardest to appear composed in front of his boss, but despite his best efforts his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Miyake-sensei opened up one of the many manilla file folders on his desk and took out a sheet of paper. "I'd like you to look at this sheet of Kamijou Yuzumi's vitals," he said, and Nowaki's heart nearly stopped beating as he took the paper and glanced over it.

Then he was just confused.

"They're normal," he said, eyes kept to the page, as if something peculiar would jump out at him.

Miyake-Sensei nodded. "Yes, they are, as has been with all the children from the male pregnancy cases we've delivered so far. No abnormalities whatsoever." At this, he paused. "However, in the case of Kamijou Yuzumi, there is one thing — not unheard of, but not common." Nowaki looked up from the paper. Miyake-Sensei was watching Nowaki from behind his desk, hands folded in front of him. His face remained stoic. "She has total heterochromia."

Nowaki furrowed his brow, still baffled as to why he'd been called into his boss's office. "That's all…?" Having two differently colored eyes were rare, but unless there were other symptoms, it wasn't anything to be worried about.

Miyake-Sensei still remained oddly solemn. "Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but since she is the result of a male pregnancy…"

Nowaki shifted. "I don't understand."

The older man sighed. "You wouldn't," he mumbled, then continued more clearly, "my colleagues — heads of other hospitals, certain politicians, and so forth — have been amazed that I have been so willing to let pregnant males deliver in my hospital. They've been even more amazed that these newborns don't have abnormalities — like, say, horns, tentacles, or two heads."

Nowaki's eyes widened incredulously. "Seriously…?"

Miyake-Sensei nodded. "Prejudices often misguide even the most intelligent of people." He sighed and shifted some papers in front of him, looking at them as if they held all the answers before putting down them down and returning his gaze to Nowaki. "Now getting back to the task at hand…"

"Yuzumi."

"Right. So, before now, as I've said, all children have been born without any known abnormalities, until Kamijou Yuzumi's heterochromia."

Nowaki tried not to stare. At least his hands had stopped shaking. "But that's certainly not unheard of. I mean, it's rare, but it definitely has been seen many times before."

"I know," Miyake-Sensei said, "but it's still an abnormality — the first reported one in a male pregnancy case. So… we'd like to run a few blood tests on her."

Nowaki swallowed, his hands starting to shake again. He remembered the four square breathing exercises they taught children with high anxiety, and wondered if it would be appropriate to noticeably slowdown his breathing in front of his boss. "Hiro — my partner had a CVS test done a while ago. Not that there's anything in his family to really test for — he just wanted to be extra-certain."

"They usually don't test for the odd ones, though, like Waardenburg syndrome."

Nowaki considered this for a moment. The truth was, as anxious as this whole ordeal was making him, he'd very much like to know the cause of Yuzumi's heterochromia, partially, he'd admit, because of the doctor in him, but mostly because he'd rather know now than spend her first few years nervously waiting for any sign that something was really wrong. "I'm fine with the blood tests, but I'll have to check with my partner first."

"Very well." Miyake-Sensei stood up and shook his hand. "Kusama-san, I really do appreciate your willingness to deal with all of this —" the elder doctor paused for a moment, gazing upward and frowning before finishing with, "inanity."

Nowaki nodded but said nothing until he nearly exited the room. Pausing before he opened the door, he turned to his boss and asked, "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what two colors are her eyes?"

Miyake-Sensei smiled at him, and Nowaki felt slightly relieved. The man wouldn't be asking about the tests if he didn't have to, he realized. "The left is brown, the right is the familiar newborn grey-blue."

Nowaki bowed. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he said, before opening the door and making his way back to Hiroki's room to wait for him to become more coherent.

Yuzumi: I actually had a different named planned, then realized it doesn't seem to be used as a first name anywhere except (rarely) in the U.S., and then I found out the main kanji in it is considered old-fashioned name-wise. Anyway. A yuzu is a tart citrus fruit that looks kind of like a small orange and which, among other things, is used in a winter bath in Japan which is supposed to, according to Wikipedia," guard against colds, warm the body, and relax the mind." The fruit is also known for growing in especially cold climates, and is not eaten whole but used more as a garnish or spice.

As for the "mi" part... well, the most common kanji is for "beautiful". I actually was able to find out how the whole Seimei Handen thing works (well, sort of - I found out how the arithmetic is done and which numbers are bad and which is good, via the always helpful use of Google), though, and the stroke count isn't right for that. So... as it is, I'm leaving that open for now.

Murasaki: Writer of The Tale of the Genji. As far as I can tell, giving a kid the name Murasaki would be equivalent to naming a kid Shakespheare in Western culture.

Heterochromia: A reviewer quite a while ago requested/asked if the Romantica kid could have one eye green and one eye purple. I said I would do that with the Egoist kid instead, since at the time the only way I knew of to get heterochromia from birth is something involved with the x chromosome that made me think the only way to get heterochromia was to have two x chromosomes. Anyway, the point is I'm not too sure what the point is, actually. Possibly that I babble to much.