Author's note: Apologies for my speed (or lack thereof). I've been sick this week, and it's a little harder to sit down and focus on writing. I really appreciate your continued interest and your patience! And I always enjoy reading your reviews :)

Kyo had been trying so hard to be productive, walking straight from the hospital to the bus stop, then straight back to their house after getting off the bus. He'd found Tohru's hospital bag, sitting in the entryway just inside the front door. Just like they'd left it. Just where it could be easily found and grabbed when needed.

He'd wordlessly tossed it over his shoulder as he slipped off his shoes, then headed upstairs to their bedroom and tossed the bag onto the bed. She'd still need her phone charger, he knew. That book she was reading. Maybe another nightgown, since she had to stay for a couple of extra nights? It had to be hard on her, wearing the same clothes day in and day out for so long. And that was assuming simple body odor.

Did her incision...ooze?

Kyo's hands had involuntarily clenched into fists, along with his jaw. But he kept working, adding the things to Tohru's bag. They'd already packed clothes for Hajime, so he was set. Then that left Kyo himself.

He'd never packed anything for himself. He hadn't thought he'd need anything, since they'd only be in the hospital for a day. It wouldn't kill him to wear the same outfit overnight. So it hadn't been his plan.

He hadn't planned for any of this.

Kyo could feel the tears welling up as he rummaged through his dresser, and he angrily fought to suppress them. Anger had always been his friend when he needed to hide anything; you could disguise nearly any emotion with anger, if you tried hard enough. Fear, sadness, guilt. Any or all, buried under the crushing weight of rage.

But he couldn't do it. Anger only worked when he had a focal point, something to be angry at. Something he could use to channel all his negativity, to ignore whatever it was he was truly feeling.

And it didn't work if he was already angry with himself.

Abandoning his packing, Kyo sat heavily down on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. And in that moment, he gave up his fighting and let the tears flow.

Tohru had told him she didn't blame him. That everything was ok. But would she ever say otherwise, especially knowing how much it bothered him? She was always so damn selfless; it was only because he knew her so well that he could tell if she lied about being ok. But he didn't trust himself now; all he could feel was his own crushing guilt and shame.

He didn't know if it would be better if she was mad at him or not. If she was mad, it wouldn't be more than he deserved, and perhaps her anger would feel like a penance. But was it more likely that she'd be angry with him, or that she'd be sad?

Anger would be infinitely easier to handle than disappointment.

His phone had pinged steadily ever since he left the hospital, and he'd glanced at it a couple times. Tohru was in his corner, naturally, trying to soothe any concerns about him or his behavior. She'd already assured Uotani that Kyo had made it in time for Hajime's birth, which was technically true, but he noticed she didn't mention the part where he was late.

Almost too late.

His relationships with Rin and Uotani had changed very little in the years he'd been with Tohru. Uotani was still far too protective where Tohru was concerned; never mind that Tohru was a grown, married woman, Uotani still treated her as a fragile girl. As if Tohru had ever been as delicate as Uotani treated her. And Uotani still had the habit of reflexively lashing out at Kyo when she was worried about Tohru, which he could understand, but still didn't like.

Rin and Kyo...still didn't like each other all that much. They were mostly cordial, when they had to interact. If they didn't have to interact, they didn't. But sometimes Rin would randomly try to bait him, and she was always making comments about how Tohru was too good for Kyo and she didn't understand what Tohru saw in him.

He felt very similarly about Rin and Haru.

Kyo's interactions with both Uotani and Rin typically fell into a predictable pattern. They'd harass him, he'd snap back, they'd snark at each other for a bit, a truce would be called, they'd all move on. Sometimes Tohru would end up playing mediator, sometimes they'd stop on their own. It was annoying, but it was expected.

But today was different.

He was sure he'd surprised them both with his silence. He knew he'd surprised Tohru, at least at first. But there was nothing he could say, not when he had no defense.

Not when he agreed with them.

Logically, he knew they were accusing him because they were worried about Tohru. It was easy to go after him; he had always been their target. But this time, they were right.

He was supposed to take care of Tohru. He was supposed to protect her. He was supposed to be there for her.

And he hadn't.

He hadn't, because he hadn't fully considered the possibilities. He'd been cocky, thinking that just because things were going 'well' that they'd continue to go well.

But he should have known better; he had seen all too clearly in the past how things could change in an instant.

He should have been checking on her constantly. Should have double and triple checked the volume on his phone. Should have checked it at every break. Should have done something other than blithely assumed that everything would be ok.

She was ok, he knew. And Hajime was ok. More than ok, perfect. Kyo felt so much relief and so much joy in their vitality that he almost couldn't handle it, at least at first. But things could have so easily gone another direction, and he wouldn't have been there. Tohru could have closed her eyes for the last time without even seeing his face.

Kyo's hands dropped to his lap, and he slowly turned the golden wedding band on his left hand. It had been nearly three years now that he'd been wearing it, since they'd stood before their family, friends, and gods and promised to take care of each other. To be there for each other. To love each other. Almost five years since they'd graduated high school and she'd taken his hand, stepping onto the train and into the unknown at his side.

Almost six since...

He lifted his head and glanced across the room, to the alcove on the wall opposite the bed. Then he stood up and walked over, stopping in front of the low cabinet standing in the middle of the alcove. There were several things arranged on top of the cabinet: a photo of young Tohru with her parents, a picture of Tohru and Kyo with Uotani, Hanajima, and Yuki at their high school graduation. A photo of Tohru and Kyo on their wedding day. A picture taken during their final winter in high school with both of them wearing Tohru's scarf. That blue hat. The set of Zodiac figurines from Kyoto.

His beads.

It had been some time since Kyo acknowledged their presence, even though they hadn't moved in all the time he and Tohru had lived here. He knew why Tohru had collected them, knew why she'd kept them. Knew why they sat, silently in that bowl. But even now that he was free of them, now that the tan lines had long since faded from his wrist and their constant weight was nothing more than a memory, he still hated the sight of them.

But he looked at them now, seeing them not as a pile of loose beads in a bowl but a bracelet. A bracelet that wiped away his wedding band, dragging down his left hand and the entire rest of his being into dark, black despair.

Or one that had, until Tohru.

With one last look at the beads, he turned to pick up the photo of the two of them with the scarf. He remembered that day; it had been cold and snowy, and he'd been grumbling on their walk home from school about the weather. Tohru had been teasing him about not dressing warmly enough, and jokingly asked if he'd ever considered a scarf. He'd pointed out that he might no longer be cursed, but he still hated things around his neck and he doubted he'd ever find a scarf he could tolerate.

"Not even mine?"

And she'd giggled as she wrapped the end of her bobble scarf around his neck, the other still wound around hers. She'd been so cute that he hadn't been able to say no, and the smile he'd given her in return had been filled with resignation and love. Momiji had snapped a photo of the two of them, and it had become one of Tohru's favorites. They'd been together only five months at that point.

Each picture was precious. Each moment was precious.

She had been there to save him when he most needed her. It was all thanks to her that his beads now stayed in their room, that his left hand was free to wear jewelry of his choice. And he kept repaying her by failing her.

She had never failed to turn up for him; why was it so hard for him to do the same?

Kyo walked back to the bed and sat down on Tohru's side, resting his hand on her pillow. How was it possible that only a day ago they'd both been here in this room, still waiting? Neither of them knew what was coming, not yesterday morning. Except...

He clenched his hand again. Yesterday evening in her hospital bed, Tohru had explained the symptoms that had made her doctor nervous on top of her high blood pressure. Her headache, her oppressive fatigue. Her pain. All things she'd had that morning before he'd left, none of which they'd thought were serious.

If he had, would he have at least tried to do better?

Kyo had felt emotionally torn since Hajime was born. His joy and amazement with his son were boundless, and he still couldn't believe how lucky they were. When he held Hajime, or was even just with Hajime, he could only be happy, only marvel at this small human he and Tohru had made.

But then there was the rest of it. He wanted to make things up to Tohru, to prove once again that he was capable, that he was responsible. But it was so hard right now, when he felt consumed by guilt whenever he looked at her.

He wished he could talk to someone. But Tohru wasn't ready to talk, and there was no way he was going to push her on this. He wasn't going to make her upset just to try to ease his own conscience, especially not after what she'd been through. And unfortunately, this wasn't something he could talk to his father about either. Kazuma was usually a fountain of good advice and help, but on this subject he just...didn't have the experience.

There was no one.

Kyo sighed and sat up, pulling out his still-chiming phone to double check that Tohru hadn't been trying to reach him. She hadn't, but he could see that the group chat was still moving along. Hopefully that wasn't proving too stressful for her, he thought with a sigh.

Then he paused and straightened up. He wasn't about to open the group chat right now, but it might have provided the answer he needed. Maybe there was one person who he could actually talk to.

Opening a new text window, he rapidly fired off a message.

'Hey. Are you free to talk at all?'

After a minute, he got a response.

'Not right now, but I'll be available in about fifteen minutes.'

'That works. Can you call me when you're free?'

'Of course.'

Closing his phone, Kyo sighed, then stood up. He might as well finish getting his things together.

It was almost exactly fifteen minutes to the second when Kyo's phone rang, and he practically pounced on it. "Hey, thanks for calling."

"Not at all."

Hatori's voice was as smooth and calm as ever, and in that moment it was exactly what Kyo needed to hear. He and Hatori had never been close; while the doctor and Tohru had a pretty good relationship, Kyo's interactions with Hatori since they'd left Tokyo had been limited entirely to seeing each other at family gatherings.

But right now, there was almost no one he'd rather talk to. Hatori was a doctor, a husband, and a father. He and Mayuko had welcomed Kinu not much more than two years ago; if there was anyone who could maybe make him feel better, it was Hatori.

And Hatori wasn't wasting time. "Is everything alright, Kyo?"

Kyo had spent the fifteen minutes waiting for Hatori to call trying to figure out what he wanted to say, and how. But at Hatori's blunt, straightforward question, he found himself just letting everything out.

It was like a cascade of words, probably the most he'd ever said to Hatori in one sitting. He poured out everything; the lead-up to yesterday, yesterday morning. Tohru's appointment, her attempts to call him. His failure to answer.

Kyo's voice was shaking as he detailed everything that had happened at the hospital and those terrible, excruciating minutes when Tohru had been lying on the operating table while he wondered if she was going to live or die. Hajime's birth. The relief in hearing Tohru should be fine, but then the guilt...

"And I just don't know what to do, Hatori. She says she doesn't want to talk about it, and I'm not gonna make her. She says it's fine. But it's not fine, Hatori, how can it be fine when I...when I left her to deal with that alone? She shouldn't have been alone. I should have been there, the whole time. She never should have had to do this by herself!"

The entire time Kyo had been talking, Hatori had been listening quietly. And for a moment after Kyo was done, he was still silent. But then his voice returned, quiet and steady.

"I'm not sure if you knew this, Kyo, but when Mayuko was pregnant, she was actually hospitalized. Three times, in fact."

Kyo actually did not know that, though it did ring a small bell. Hadn't Tohru mentioned at a couple points during her own pregnancy how glad she was not to have to deal with what Mayuko had? He wasn't quite sure where Hatori was going with this, though.

"She had extremely severe morning sickness that lasted for more than half of her pregnancy. It was so bad she couldn't keep any food down at all, could barely stand, and lost a significant amount of weight. Even so, she was resistant to taking a leave of absence from work, and it was a fight to finally get her to go to the hospital the first time."

Knowing Sensei Shiraki, he could believe that.

"Even though I'm a doctor, and I knew what was happening, the whole experience was terrifying. Her second time before going to the hospital, she actually fainted. And I had no idea; it was a maid who found her passed out on the floor, and called the ambulance to take her there. I was on duty at the hospital at the time, so my first time learning anything was the matter was when I was called and told her was enroute."

Hatori's voice had a rare tremor of emotion now, something Kyo didn't think he'd ever heard before from the normally unruffled doctor.

"And even though the third hospitalization was...expected, in the end, it wasn't any easier. The whole time, I found myself worrying what else I could be doing for her. If there was some way I could make it easier on her. Something I could be doing, so that she didn't have to feel miserable alone. But in the end, there was nothing. All I could do was step back, trust her care team, and let the necessary treatments play out."

Hatori took a deep breath, then continued with a steadier voice.

"I can only imagine how terrifying yesterday must have been for you, Kyo, especially if, as you say, neither of you was expecting that outcome. But I want to try to reassure you that, from the sound of it, there isn't much you could have done differently. At this stage of pregnancy, I'm guessing that Tohru was being seen weekly by her doctor, correct?"

Kyo took a shaky breath and nodded, then realized Hatori couldn't see him. "Yeah, that's right."

"And they'd never mentioned anything about her blood pressure or any other concerns?"

"Not that I know, no. She never said."

"So in that case, it's quite probable that it was a very sudden onset, which is not uncommon in pregnancy. Especially late term pregnancy." Hatori paused, then continued. "And unfortunately, a severe blood pressure spike can be extremely dangerous, for both mother and child. It can be a sign of other complications, but even if high blood pressure is the only actual problem, if it's high enough it can be deadly all on its own."

At the word 'deadly' Kyo's fingers clenched involuntarily around the phone. How close had it been?

"I don't say that to add to your worries, Kyo. Especially if what Tohru said this morning about her blood pressure being down at a much safer level is true. But I want you to understand that with that being the case, her being sent to the hospital made complete sense. And if she passed out and Hajime went into distress, there wouldn't have been many options available to the doctors. Had I been treating her, I would have made the same recommendation in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, but that's the thing. She had to deal with all of that alone, Hatori. Her going to the hospital, her arriving and passing out and them deciding to just...cut him out of her! She must have been so scared, and because I didn't pay attention to my damn phone when my pregnant wife was trying to call me, I couldn't be there for her!" Kyo's voice was shaking again, this time with anger. And he heard Hatori sigh.

"You said it was how long after Tohru first called you your friend reached you?"

"About thirty-five, forty minutes. We were on the road maybe five minutes later, and got to the hospital about an hour, hour and five minutes after she first called me."

"And she was already in surgery? Under general anesthesia?"

"She was already...on the table asleep, yeah." His voice was still shaking, but no longer with anger.

Hatori sighed quietly again, and his voice was gentle. "Kyo...I don't know if this helps you at all, but from what you're saying, I genuinely don't know if you'd have made it in time, even if you'd answered Tohru on the very first ring. From the sound of things, everything escalated very quickly from the moment they sent Tohru to the hospital. Even though emergency cesareans always move quickly, they still would have had to get her in and ready. If you weren't already in Nigeyashi when she went to the hospital, I'm unsure if you would have had the time."

Kyo genuinely didn't know how to respond to that. Tohru might have been doomed to face everything alone either way?

"Furthermore, in the case of emergency cesareans under general anesthesia, it's highly unlikely for non-medical personnel to be allowed in the room. There's just too much going on in a very short period. So even if you'd arrived before Tohru went in, you most likely wouldn't have been able to be with her during surgery."

"But I could have been there before, Hatori! I should have been there before! I should have just gone with her to the appointment! I shouldn't have left her alone!"

His mind was reeling at what Hatori was saying. It had been so easy to blame himself for being late, but was he really screwed either way? Had he been too far away, either way? Would it not have mattered, in the end?

"Kyo, from what you've said there was no reason for you to have gone with her. Didn't you say both of you and her doctor felt everything was going smoothly? That she might have had easily had weeks left?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Were you planning to babysit her the entire time? To just stay home with her for however long it took?"

"No, but-"

"Did Tohru want you to go with her to the appointment that day, ask you to stay with her, tell her she was concerned, or make any other indication that anything truly out of the ordinary was happening?"

"No, but-"

"Kyo." Hatori's voice was firm. Gentle, but extremely firm, with that no-nonsense 'listen to me' tone he'd always had. And Kyo shut his mouth, exactly as he always did when he heard that tone.

"I know this is hard on you. Believe me, I know. Seeing your wife struggle, seeing her in pain, and knowing there's nothing you can do to take on any of that pain for her...it's one of the worst feelings in the world. And the guilt is real." Hatori sighed, and for a moment Kyo was staggered. Hatori had felt guilt, too?

"But at the end of the day, no matter how good our intentions, no matter how strong our wishes, there are limits to what we can do as fathers. We have to trust to fate, and the knowledge and skill of our wives' medical teams. From the sound of it, Tohru had an excellent one who wasted no time in doing what needed to be done. That might very well have saved both of them."

"Yeah..." Kyo's voice was shaky again, and he could feel the tears return to his eyes.

"You've done what you could, Kyo. You were there when it mattered. You've done what you could. Tohru is safe, and Hajime is safe. Yesterday is over, and today is happening now. I know it's not easy, letting things go, but please believe me when I say there's nothing you could have done better to handle the situation. Don't let needless guilt cheat you out of cherishing what you have now."

An image crept into Kyo's mind, the memory of the first time Tohru held Hajime. Her expression of wonder and love, the way her lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears when she turned to look from Hajime to Kyo. The way she'd been so overwhelmed that she couldn't speak, but let her eyes shine out every drop of love she felt...for both of them.

Hatori was right.

Kyo let out another shuddery breath, then took in another. And his voice was steadier and much stronger when he could finally talk.

"I guess you're right. Even if it's not easy...you're right."

"None of this is easy, Kyo. And it's not going to get a lot easier with time, unfortunately."

At that, Kyo actually laughed. "I thought you were supposed to reassure me."

He could hear the smile in Hatori's voice then. "It gets better. And it is wonderful; a true gift. But it starts out hard, and it's a sad reality that it stays hard, for some time. You and Tohru are both going to have to work, Kyo, but I can promise you it's worth it. Just do your best, to be there for Tohru and Hajime. Pay attention. Don't make her ask for help, just do it. Be there. Be a part of everything. Up until now, everything has been on Tohru, but now that he's here, now is the time for you to shine. There's a lot you can do, to be an active and involved father."

Wasn't that the truth.

"You don't have to worry on that score, Hatori, I'm gonna step up. I'm already stepping up. He's my son, too, and I'm gonna take care of him!" The pride and passion in Kyo's voice were obvious, and on the other end of the line Hatori smiled. He'd never doubted for a second that Tohru and Kyo would make great parents, and if anything, Kyo's anxieties had only reinforced that thought.

"Are you at the hospital now?"

"Nah, I'm at home for the moment. Since everything happened so fast and unexpectedly, we never had a chance to grab Tohru's things. And she's gotta stay at the hospital for at least two more days, so I came home to get us some stuff."

"That's perfectly normal, after a caesarian. How is she doing?"

Kyo considered the question thoughtfully. "Ok, I think? She says she'd fine, of course, but she's really tired. They wouldn't let her sleep at all last night, kept coming in and waking her up all the time. And she's sore."

Hatori's tone was sympathetic now. "Yes, that's sadly normal. Especially after surgery, they'll need to be checking her constantly to make sure she's improving. Delivering the baby typically brings blood pressure down rapidly, but sometimes there are other complications and it's best to stay ahead of them. And the soreness will last for some time, sadly. Make sure that you're stepping in as much as you can to help her so she doesn't try to overexert herself."

"Easier said than done with Tohru." They both chuckled at that; if there was one thing Tohru was terrible at, it was stepping back and letting someone else take care of her! "But don't worry, I'm on it."

"I'm sure you are." There was a pause for a moment. "He's a beautiful, strong-looking baby, Kyo. You and Tohru should both be very proud."

And Kyo's pride was evident in his own voice, along with his love. "Yeah...he really is. And we are. Both of us."

"I suppose this rather definitively answers the question of the hair, too. I had wondered. But I'm sorry I mentioned it in the group chat, it should have occurred to me that there would be non-Sohmas included."

"Nah, it's all good. And yeah," Kyo said with a chuckle, "I'd say there's no question anymore on whether any of this stuff can pass on."

"He's most certainly your son. No one will ever be able to look at him and doubt it."

And Kyo couldn't be happier.

"Hey...I should probably get going back to the hospital. But I really, really appreciate you talking to me, really." Kyo paused awkwardly. "I needed to hear some of this."

"Of course, Kyo. I am truly happy to have helped. And please feel free to reach out if you do ever want to talk. I do have a little bit of experience, now, and I'd be happy to help as I can."

Kyo smiled at the phone. "I will. Thanks again, Hatori."

"Say hello to Tohru for me, and I hope she has a swift recovery and can go home soon."

"I will, thanks."

Kyo hung up the phone and looked around the room again. The pictures of the two of them, and their clothes. The nightgown she'd worn the night before last, neatly folded and sitting at the foot of the bed. The bed itself, neatly made aside of the wrinkles he'd left by sitting on it, with their pillows. Her side and his.

And at the foot of the bed, right in the middle, Hajime's bassinet, all ready and waiting for when he came home.

Kyo took a deep breath, and smiled.

It was time to go back to the hospital. His family was waiting.