Disclaimer: I think it's obvious that I don't own Gravitation. I'm
borrowing characters from Maki Murakami. My stories are for fun, not
profit.
I appreciate all criticism, so please read, enjoy, and review. To those who do review: THANK YOU!!
~ Don't Eat the Dasies! ~
Part 3: Research [Still Tuesday]
I should be working on my book, Eiri thought. In all honesty, he was waiting for Mizuki's feedback on the outline he'd sent to her, before he went ahead with the writing. He was also toying with the idea of re-writing his books in English. Instead of working, however, he found himself researching adoption. It was a whole new world to him.
First, he looked up adoption qualifications. In a 'regular adoption', the process was reletively simple, but there were no guarantees of permanancy. The child kept any ties to birth parents while living with adoptive parents. As a result, the adoption could be revoked on the whim of the natural parents. He read an article with a quote from Masahide Terazaki, of Tokyo's government Child Welfare Center, who said; "We don't encourage adoption. Only about 10 percent of the children are adopted . . .We try to get the children back to their birth families by the time they turn 16.'' [3] That was not the way Eiri wanted to go. Taking a child into their lives was not something he would do lightly— if they did. The chance of having that child taken away at any time was not an acceptable risk, in his opinion.
In a 'special adoption', the adopted child came under the custody and responsibility of the adopting parents and was marked on the koseki [2] as having ties only to them. He read the requirements for special adoption. First, the child had to be under the age of six. Second, both of them had to consent— obviously. Third, he and Shu just qualified for the age minimums for a special adoption; one person had to be 25 and the other had to be at least 20. Shu had just turned 21. Fourth, the adoption had to be approved by the birth parents (if known). There was a whole group of qualifications and special cases to that one. Lastly, the child must live with the potential parents for six months before the Family Court would render final judgement.
Eiri thought about that last part. Maybe it was wise, but a child shouldn't be something you could just return if things didn't work out. He frowned at his computer screen. He and Shu would both have to look at this very seriously. For his part, the obstacles weren't insurmountable, but . . . if they were abyssmal parents, the Family Court could just deny adoption. What if Shuichi became attached to the child and they were rejected as suitable parents? That would be bad.
He leaned one elbow against the desk, scrolling through documents and surfing through adoption information on the internet. Children who required protection [1] were born out of wedlock, abandoned, or abused, or had parents who were unable to support them. There seemed to be plenty of them in Japan. In particular, chidren of mixed nationalities were often given up by birth parents. They became subjects of the Ward Office. They were either given to private child care facilities or to state-run orphanages. Eiri noted that as a group, such children had sorry futures and often turned toward crime once they were released as adults.
Although he'd heard the term sutego, or "throwaway child", it had never occurred to him to consider the reasoning behind it. Japan harbored hundreds of these throwaway children each year. They were unclaimed or unwanted babies, whose paternal (and sometimes maternal) lineage was unknown. The children were considered 'stateless'. They had no identity and no country. Without any pedigree, or proof of parental identity, the government would not even issue a birth certificate! They were easy to take in, because no one wanted them, but difficult to adopt, since they had no status and no paperwork.
Japanese, in general, did not readily adopt other people's children. Lineage was too important. They were doubly unwilling to accept sutego. The concept bothered Eiri, but he didn't feel that it was his job to save the world one kid at a time, and discarded the option coldly. Although he wasn't patriotic, by any means, he still felt cold at the thought of a person who had no registered place of origin, no roots, and no parents.
A logical, calculating portion of his brain thought he might make use this information in another book plot. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and made some notes. He made a new bookmark file on his internet browser and started saving 'web sites as he explored the adoption process.
If he decided to go through with this . . . He sat back in his chair and had a drink of tea, asking himself, "Am I ready for this?" The idea of having a heir was appealing to him, in a vague, distant sort of way. If they adopted, he would never get an heir that looked like him or Shuichi, which was a shame. A combonation of his genes and Shu's would be something! Also impossible. Eiri sighed. Even modern bio-chemical engineering needed a woman for the process to work. He set his teacup back on the desk with a soft click.
Was Shuichi capable of handling the responsibility of a child? It was a highly debatable subject. Why did Shu want a child in the first place? Was it a matter of pining for normalcy? Appeasing his parents? Eiri shook his head. He would have to do more digging in Shu's mind before he could assure himself that his husband would be doing this for the right reasons.
A child would mean big changes. They might need a bigger apartment. Finances were not a problem, Eiri thought practically. However, Shu probably had no idea how to take care of a baby. When Tatsuha was born, Eiri had paid scant attention to baby things, although his sister, Mika, had taken an interest. Of course, they didn't have to adopt an infant— just a child under the age of six.
They *could* do it . . . Noriko, of Nittle Grasper had more than one kid and she seemed fully capable of putting in the required hours for concerts and studio time as well as balancing family. He wondered how old her kids were? Eiri knew of plenty of writers with kids at home. They seemed to manage just fine. Families were natural occurances, after all. He couldn't imagine taking a child on concert tours or book signings, however. Maybe Mika would be willing to play nanny?
Hmmm. Some adoption agencies would not work with same-sex couples. When only 10% of the children were being adopted, one would think they'd be more willing to find good homes for children, no matter what the parents' gender was, Eiri thought. Institutional policies did not necessitate logic, unfortunately.
Another thing to consider was that agencies typically interviewed not only the prospective parents, but also the extended families, including grandparents. It seemed everyone would be on trial. Would Shu's parents get excited about grandchildren who were not blood related? He supposed they should find out those answers, too, before persuing adoption.
And then there was the complication of the media . . . Eiri rubbed his forehead. When they had come home, the answering machine had been full of interview requests from tv and radio. Mizuki said she'd had several calls at work, too.
There were still too many questions and not enough answers. He filled out a couple of online offers from local adoption agencies for 'more information by mail'. There was still no e-mail response from Mizuki, he noted.
Since 2002, the koseki records were kept on computer and he needed to make the change of his own newly-married status. He printed the alteration request form directly from the government 'web page. He had to look up the address of the the office in Kyoto, since he'd never bothered to transfer the koseki to Tokyo. He wasn't sure why, but a part of him still considered Kyoto 'home'. He glanced at the clock. He had time to get it in the mail today before the mail carrier came. Eiri shut down the computer and filled out the form. He sealed it in an envelope, along with an official copy of their marriage certificate and went out to the mailbox.
***
"I'm hooooommme!" Shuichi called. There was no response, but that hardly stopped him. "Eiri?" He set the grocery bags on the floor and slipped his shoes off. Eiri wasn't in the study, but the computer screen was still crackley and his chair was still warm. There were some notes next to the keyboard and the word 'adoption' caught his eye. A warm feeling spilled through him. Was Eiri actually considering having kids with him??
"Eiri??" Shuichi called again. He walked back into the foyer, noting that Eiri's shoes were gone. He checked the closet-- his coat was still there. It was a little too cold to go out without a coat, in Shu's opinion. Still, if Eiri was having trouble with his writing, or thinking hard, he might leave without a coat. Shu shrugged, thinking he shouldn't be gone long.
He picked up the grocery bags, swinging them and letting them spin by their handles on his way to the kitchen. He started singing, just to fill the house with sound. Eiri always kept it so quiet, he thought. Since he was alone, he tried some variations on the lyrics for the song he was working on for his husband. Shu felt his face curl up in a silly grin. It felt good saying that— a little strange, maybe— but really good. He tossed the cold stuff in the 'fridge. I just wish everybody else could be happy for us, he thought. Even Hiro had been looking at him listlessly over lunch when he'd tried explaining how joyously happy he was and how much making this song for Eiri meant to him.
He hoped Eiri would understand it. Well, Eiri usually understood it, he just didn't like to say it. So instead, he said stuff like, "it's worse than the last one," or "I don't know why Bad Luck's music is still so popular." Shu smirked. It was Eiri's expression that gave away his true feelings. It was the slight quirk to the corner of his lips, or the lightness in his golden eyes. Sometimes, when he really liked the song, Eiri kissed him and said something like, "you could work on that trash for weeks and it wouldn't come out any better." Shuichi was hoping for that kind of reaction this time. He chuckled to himself, shelving the new box of rice and the pocky.
It was just about 4:30 and Eiri wouldn't be expecting him for another two hours. Shu wondered where he went. Eiri always called him nosy when he asked, but he was just curious. Well, that, and concerned. He thought Eiri enjoyed hiding stuff from him, especially important stuff like doctor visits. Shu frowned and grabbed some pocky, munching it as he walked into the living room and clicked on his computer. He would watch his beloved carefully for signs of ill health when he returned.
Shu picked up the tv remote and popped it on. Some band he didn't recognize was playing on the music video channel. After about four seconds, he decided he didn't like the song. He browsed his favorite channels with the attention span of a gerbil. Thirty seconds later, he decided there was nothing good on tv.
"Hi, Shuichi!" Sakuma Ryuichi's voice greeted him from his computer's speakers.
"Hi, Ryu-kun!" He answered jauntily, waving to his computer. "Ooo, laundry!" he reminded himself out loud. He ran through the hallway into the small laundry room and put a waiting load of clothes in the washer with a carefully measured amount of soap and turned it on. Just because he had once put waaaaay too much soap in the washer, Eiri had become really picky about him measuring the soap instead of just pouring it into the machine. Shu pouted, remembering the mess that had resulted from that.
Coming back to the living room, he turned the tv off and called up his music program. Even though his husband— 'husband!' he chuckled to himself— wasn't home yet, he put on the earphones and plugged them in. Tuning his focus, he started putting together the sounds that would best convey his love. This song will be the best yet, he thought determinedly!
***
[1] "Children who require protection" is how Japanese law labels what English-speakers would call an orphan. It's really just a polite euphemism.
[2] koseki is the family registry. It is kept by the family's local Ward Office and holds all familial records of birth, adoption, marriage, divorce, or death. Most Japanese leave koseki data in the Ward Office of their birthplace home.
[3] actual quote: Cited on "Adoptionnews" website in an article by Booyean Lee.
***
Author's Notes: If you've read my other fics, you will have guessed that the adoption info. and qualifications are all true, and you'd be right! I try to base fiction in reality and get the details right. I'm glad it shows through. :-)
That's it for fanfiction, folks. Again, I urge adults to read the rest at gurabiteshiyon.net.
I appreciate all criticism, so please read, enjoy, and review. To those who do review: THANK YOU!!
~ Don't Eat the Dasies! ~
Part 3: Research [Still Tuesday]
I should be working on my book, Eiri thought. In all honesty, he was waiting for Mizuki's feedback on the outline he'd sent to her, before he went ahead with the writing. He was also toying with the idea of re-writing his books in English. Instead of working, however, he found himself researching adoption. It was a whole new world to him.
First, he looked up adoption qualifications. In a 'regular adoption', the process was reletively simple, but there were no guarantees of permanancy. The child kept any ties to birth parents while living with adoptive parents. As a result, the adoption could be revoked on the whim of the natural parents. He read an article with a quote from Masahide Terazaki, of Tokyo's government Child Welfare Center, who said; "We don't encourage adoption. Only about 10 percent of the children are adopted . . .We try to get the children back to their birth families by the time they turn 16.'' [3] That was not the way Eiri wanted to go. Taking a child into their lives was not something he would do lightly— if they did. The chance of having that child taken away at any time was not an acceptable risk, in his opinion.
In a 'special adoption', the adopted child came under the custody and responsibility of the adopting parents and was marked on the koseki [2] as having ties only to them. He read the requirements for special adoption. First, the child had to be under the age of six. Second, both of them had to consent— obviously. Third, he and Shu just qualified for the age minimums for a special adoption; one person had to be 25 and the other had to be at least 20. Shu had just turned 21. Fourth, the adoption had to be approved by the birth parents (if known). There was a whole group of qualifications and special cases to that one. Lastly, the child must live with the potential parents for six months before the Family Court would render final judgement.
Eiri thought about that last part. Maybe it was wise, but a child shouldn't be something you could just return if things didn't work out. He frowned at his computer screen. He and Shu would both have to look at this very seriously. For his part, the obstacles weren't insurmountable, but . . . if they were abyssmal parents, the Family Court could just deny adoption. What if Shuichi became attached to the child and they were rejected as suitable parents? That would be bad.
He leaned one elbow against the desk, scrolling through documents and surfing through adoption information on the internet. Children who required protection [1] were born out of wedlock, abandoned, or abused, or had parents who were unable to support them. There seemed to be plenty of them in Japan. In particular, chidren of mixed nationalities were often given up by birth parents. They became subjects of the Ward Office. They were either given to private child care facilities or to state-run orphanages. Eiri noted that as a group, such children had sorry futures and often turned toward crime once they were released as adults.
Although he'd heard the term sutego, or "throwaway child", it had never occurred to him to consider the reasoning behind it. Japan harbored hundreds of these throwaway children each year. They were unclaimed or unwanted babies, whose paternal (and sometimes maternal) lineage was unknown. The children were considered 'stateless'. They had no identity and no country. Without any pedigree, or proof of parental identity, the government would not even issue a birth certificate! They were easy to take in, because no one wanted them, but difficult to adopt, since they had no status and no paperwork.
Japanese, in general, did not readily adopt other people's children. Lineage was too important. They were doubly unwilling to accept sutego. The concept bothered Eiri, but he didn't feel that it was his job to save the world one kid at a time, and discarded the option coldly. Although he wasn't patriotic, by any means, he still felt cold at the thought of a person who had no registered place of origin, no roots, and no parents.
A logical, calculating portion of his brain thought he might make use this information in another book plot. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and made some notes. He made a new bookmark file on his internet browser and started saving 'web sites as he explored the adoption process.
If he decided to go through with this . . . He sat back in his chair and had a drink of tea, asking himself, "Am I ready for this?" The idea of having a heir was appealing to him, in a vague, distant sort of way. If they adopted, he would never get an heir that looked like him or Shuichi, which was a shame. A combonation of his genes and Shu's would be something! Also impossible. Eiri sighed. Even modern bio-chemical engineering needed a woman for the process to work. He set his teacup back on the desk with a soft click.
Was Shuichi capable of handling the responsibility of a child? It was a highly debatable subject. Why did Shu want a child in the first place? Was it a matter of pining for normalcy? Appeasing his parents? Eiri shook his head. He would have to do more digging in Shu's mind before he could assure himself that his husband would be doing this for the right reasons.
A child would mean big changes. They might need a bigger apartment. Finances were not a problem, Eiri thought practically. However, Shu probably had no idea how to take care of a baby. When Tatsuha was born, Eiri had paid scant attention to baby things, although his sister, Mika, had taken an interest. Of course, they didn't have to adopt an infant— just a child under the age of six.
They *could* do it . . . Noriko, of Nittle Grasper had more than one kid and she seemed fully capable of putting in the required hours for concerts and studio time as well as balancing family. He wondered how old her kids were? Eiri knew of plenty of writers with kids at home. They seemed to manage just fine. Families were natural occurances, after all. He couldn't imagine taking a child on concert tours or book signings, however. Maybe Mika would be willing to play nanny?
Hmmm. Some adoption agencies would not work with same-sex couples. When only 10% of the children were being adopted, one would think they'd be more willing to find good homes for children, no matter what the parents' gender was, Eiri thought. Institutional policies did not necessitate logic, unfortunately.
Another thing to consider was that agencies typically interviewed not only the prospective parents, but also the extended families, including grandparents. It seemed everyone would be on trial. Would Shu's parents get excited about grandchildren who were not blood related? He supposed they should find out those answers, too, before persuing adoption.
And then there was the complication of the media . . . Eiri rubbed his forehead. When they had come home, the answering machine had been full of interview requests from tv and radio. Mizuki said she'd had several calls at work, too.
There were still too many questions and not enough answers. He filled out a couple of online offers from local adoption agencies for 'more information by mail'. There was still no e-mail response from Mizuki, he noted.
Since 2002, the koseki records were kept on computer and he needed to make the change of his own newly-married status. He printed the alteration request form directly from the government 'web page. He had to look up the address of the the office in Kyoto, since he'd never bothered to transfer the koseki to Tokyo. He wasn't sure why, but a part of him still considered Kyoto 'home'. He glanced at the clock. He had time to get it in the mail today before the mail carrier came. Eiri shut down the computer and filled out the form. He sealed it in an envelope, along with an official copy of their marriage certificate and went out to the mailbox.
***
"I'm hooooommme!" Shuichi called. There was no response, but that hardly stopped him. "Eiri?" He set the grocery bags on the floor and slipped his shoes off. Eiri wasn't in the study, but the computer screen was still crackley and his chair was still warm. There were some notes next to the keyboard and the word 'adoption' caught his eye. A warm feeling spilled through him. Was Eiri actually considering having kids with him??
"Eiri??" Shuichi called again. He walked back into the foyer, noting that Eiri's shoes were gone. He checked the closet-- his coat was still there. It was a little too cold to go out without a coat, in Shu's opinion. Still, if Eiri was having trouble with his writing, or thinking hard, he might leave without a coat. Shu shrugged, thinking he shouldn't be gone long.
He picked up the grocery bags, swinging them and letting them spin by their handles on his way to the kitchen. He started singing, just to fill the house with sound. Eiri always kept it so quiet, he thought. Since he was alone, he tried some variations on the lyrics for the song he was working on for his husband. Shu felt his face curl up in a silly grin. It felt good saying that— a little strange, maybe— but really good. He tossed the cold stuff in the 'fridge. I just wish everybody else could be happy for us, he thought. Even Hiro had been looking at him listlessly over lunch when he'd tried explaining how joyously happy he was and how much making this song for Eiri meant to him.
He hoped Eiri would understand it. Well, Eiri usually understood it, he just didn't like to say it. So instead, he said stuff like, "it's worse than the last one," or "I don't know why Bad Luck's music is still so popular." Shu smirked. It was Eiri's expression that gave away his true feelings. It was the slight quirk to the corner of his lips, or the lightness in his golden eyes. Sometimes, when he really liked the song, Eiri kissed him and said something like, "you could work on that trash for weeks and it wouldn't come out any better." Shuichi was hoping for that kind of reaction this time. He chuckled to himself, shelving the new box of rice and the pocky.
It was just about 4:30 and Eiri wouldn't be expecting him for another two hours. Shu wondered where he went. Eiri always called him nosy when he asked, but he was just curious. Well, that, and concerned. He thought Eiri enjoyed hiding stuff from him, especially important stuff like doctor visits. Shu frowned and grabbed some pocky, munching it as he walked into the living room and clicked on his computer. He would watch his beloved carefully for signs of ill health when he returned.
Shu picked up the tv remote and popped it on. Some band he didn't recognize was playing on the music video channel. After about four seconds, he decided he didn't like the song. He browsed his favorite channels with the attention span of a gerbil. Thirty seconds later, he decided there was nothing good on tv.
"Hi, Shuichi!" Sakuma Ryuichi's voice greeted him from his computer's speakers.
"Hi, Ryu-kun!" He answered jauntily, waving to his computer. "Ooo, laundry!" he reminded himself out loud. He ran through the hallway into the small laundry room and put a waiting load of clothes in the washer with a carefully measured amount of soap and turned it on. Just because he had once put waaaaay too much soap in the washer, Eiri had become really picky about him measuring the soap instead of just pouring it into the machine. Shu pouted, remembering the mess that had resulted from that.
Coming back to the living room, he turned the tv off and called up his music program. Even though his husband— 'husband!' he chuckled to himself— wasn't home yet, he put on the earphones and plugged them in. Tuning his focus, he started putting together the sounds that would best convey his love. This song will be the best yet, he thought determinedly!
***
[1] "Children who require protection" is how Japanese law labels what English-speakers would call an orphan. It's really just a polite euphemism.
[2] koseki is the family registry. It is kept by the family's local Ward Office and holds all familial records of birth, adoption, marriage, divorce, or death. Most Japanese leave koseki data in the Ward Office of their birthplace home.
[3] actual quote: Cited on "Adoptionnews" website in an article by Booyean Lee.
***
Author's Notes: If you've read my other fics, you will have guessed that the adoption info. and qualifications are all true, and you'd be right! I try to base fiction in reality and get the details right. I'm glad it shows through. :-)
That's it for fanfiction, folks. Again, I urge adults to read the rest at gurabiteshiyon.net.
