Eleven years ago today, on this day, Suzuki Sho had been born.

For some strange reason, reasons that Suzuki had never been able to understand no matter how many times they had been explained to him, his son had this idea in his head that his own father could have forgotten the day that he had been born. Suzuki hadn't forgotten last year. He hadn't forgotten...he'd just had a lot on his mind. It had been a very eventful year. His...sabbatical…the shift in his relationship with Shigeko….his own poor decision making….it had been a very eventful year. This year had been decidedly less eventful. This year had been…well not a good year. No. He didn't think that he would ever have any of those now that Masami was gone…well and truly gone from his life…but this year had been…well a decent year….not very eventful…

Which was why December first would not slip by again.

He knew what day his son had been born on. He had never forgotten. The passing of the date had slipped his notice but he did remember what day it had been. December first. On December first eleven years ago Masami had shaken him awake and told him that she needed to go to the hospital. That she'd thought that her body had been doing this thing called….well he forgot the exact name but they were practice contractions and had been happening for a while….but then she had passed her mucus plug in the night….and then her water had broken at some point in the car…and then the next thing he had known his wife had been walked into a hospital and then wheeled away…

And then he'd had nothing to do but wait.

The waiting….he had been worried. Low level worried. The sort of worried that buzzed in the back of his skull. He had read everything he could get his hands on about childbirth. He had no idea, before his wife had gotten pregnant…before she had even been his wife…before he'd vastly overestimated his ability to time his own orgasm…everything that went into having a baby. How could he have? He had no siblings, no cousins, and his parents had been lost to him when he had been eighteen. There had been nobody there to warn him of what was coming…and the books….had been very dry and intellectual. He had no idea that the bloody show would have been so…bloody….or how much water there was when the water broke….

So. Much. Water.

Water and blood and…and Masami had assured him that she had been fine. Hence why his worry had been so low level. He would have felt better if she'd given birth at home with Fukuda there to heal her if something went wrong. Suzuki had read everything he could get his hands on when it came to childbirth…and to this day he was confident that he could deliver a baby if he needed to….but Masami had wanted to go to a hospital. She had wanted to have their Son in a hospital with doctors and modern interventions and pain drugs…and not him helping the baby along with telekinesis and Fukuda there to put her back together…with his eyes closed of course because Masami was not his wife…not that he didn't trust Fukuda. He knew that Fukuda would never have done anything with Masami even though she was the most beautiful and intelligent woman on Earth….

And also…well there was the fact that there was nothing sexually attractive about childbirth.

Terrifying. Terrifying and gut wrenching and stomach turning….so much blood and water….and also vomit…and other things too…things that he books had warned him about in the most intellectual capacities. Things that he would never forget. There was no way that he could ever forget everything that he had seen and heard and smelled on that particular December first eleven years ago…

He could never forget what he had seen that day.

Masami…laying on her back…asking for him even though fathers weren't usually in the room with the mothers….and then her hand had been in his and she had assured him that she couldn't feel a thing…and then he had been told by no less than four different people plus his wife not to look over the curtain….but he had looked over the curtain…and then her entire body had been opened up...like a fish…like when his mother had asked him to help her filet fish for dinner…and then….he couldn't remember anything else…just the sight of his wife…his reason and his life…laying there on her back with her organs on the outside and a person being pulled out of her…

The reason she had been like that.

'Touichirou, look, there's someone here who wants to meet you.' Was what Masami had told him as she was being put back together. She had laid there on her back…and their son had been placed on her chest…and he had been screaming. He had been red and screaming…and what in the hell had he been screaming about? He hadn't been the one who had almost died. He had been the one who couldn't be bothered to face the correct way when he'd been born….he had been the one who had come out breach….he had been the one who had tangled the umbilical cord around his neck…he had been the one who hadn't even been able to be born correctly…who hadn't even bothered to have faced the right way…so that his mother…who had done the work of carrying him and birthing him could have been spared….all of it….

All of that had happened eleven years ago.

How could his son have expected him to forget that? To forget the day that he'd almost lost his wife? The day where two had almost stayed two, not become three, the day in which….a day which he did not want to think about. It was six in the morning. He did not want to think about this at six in the morning or at any time in the morning. He wanted to get this day over and done with. The children preferred morning birthday parties and he needed to get this over with so he could just…start his own day…and such.

He had to get this over with.

The Boy had better have appreciated this. That Boy…his Son…had better have woken up that morning a year older and a year wiser and a year more mature. His Son….he did this for his Son. Well his Son and Shigeko. She had told him, before, not to forget Son's birthday…even she thought that he was capable of forgetting that day. She didn't know. She just…she didn't know. Nobody really knew…what it had been like…not even Tadashi and he had been there. Suzuki….should have been more insistent with Masami…but he couldn't have been. He was a man. He knew nothing about child birth and he had deferred to her judgement….just as he would defer to Shigeko's judgement when she had her children.

He would not be looking over the curtain.

One day she would be on her back and….and there would be medical people…doctors and nurses…and everyone else…and they would be pulling her child and his grandchild out of her body. There would be blood and vomit and sweat and urine and mucus…so much mucus….and so much blood…and water. There was so much water….he would deal with all of it. He would deal with all of it and he would spend the entire time in the room with her even if it wasn't done. He would hold her hand and he would tell her that she would be safe…and Tadashi would be there too even though she had stopped liking them…he would be blindfolded so that he couldn't see anything….even though he couldn't think of a less sexual process than childbirth…Shigeko still would probably not have wanted anyone looking at her vagina that didn't absolutely have to look at it…and he would be there and he would hold her hand and keep her safe….

He would help her through it.

And he would never forget the day that she brought his grandchild into the world. That day would come and…and he would be there. Son…he would be there for his wife. He had already expressed that he wanted to have ten to twenty children with this girl…he didn't even want to think about how complicated future lines of succession would be….his Son could make his own choices with his wife…and he could help her through the process of childbirth….Suzuki had to be there for Shigeko. She would have had nobody…well whatever man had gotten her pregnant…if Suzuki let him stick around….she didn't need anyone but him.

He could care for his Daughter.

And his Son, too, even though the Boy required considerably less care. He mostly took care of himself as he should have, he was half of Suzuki after all, and he didn't need his father….well not really. He could handle himself so, really, he should have been happy that Suzuki had done all of this for him. He hadn't just remembered the day, and made an alert in his calendar, but also had put together all the trappings of a proper birthday. Cake, presents, all of it. Things that you were supposed to do for your Son on his birthday. Things that Son enjoyed.

He had even followed the picture again.

Suzuki had saved every single drawing that his son had ever created. Some of those drawings were rotting on the walls or in folders back at the house he had shared with Masami, some were tacked up on the walls of his various offices, and some he carried around with him in folders and binders. The best of his Son's work. Pictures which played with color and light and darkness and perspective…and ones that were of no note but were simply…enjoyable to look at.

Like that cake diagram.

That had been…it had been a good day. Masami had taken the children out for Son's birthday and he had procured the cakes and then…well she had been so happy she had been speechless…and the children had been happy too…and it had been a good day. He had enjoyed himself, anyway, seeing his wife so happy. She deserved to be happy on such a day…and he never could understand how she could have been so happy on December first when she had almost died…and gone through so much. His own mother had never been so happy on his birthdays.

The ones he could remember.

Mother had made him cakes, even though he hated cake, and gotten him everything that he had put on his birthday list, and…and also she had never missed her chance to remind him just how long it had taken to give birth to him…how painful it had been…and how he had been so selfish the day that he'd been born that he had refused to feed from her. That he had been punishing her for something that she could not for the life of her figure out. He had no idea why he had seen fit to punish his mother either. He had been a baby, then, it had been the day that he'd been born and of course he had no memory of the day that he'd been born…but he had still apologized just the same. Like father had told him to. When someone was upset with you then there were two options. You could ignore that person until they tired themselves out or you could agree with them just to make it stop…and mother never tired herself out.

Ever.

She had been so angry…when he had told her that he had no idea what she was so upset about and that he had been a baby and had probably just been doing baby things….she had screamed for the entire day. She had screamed at him when he had left for school….and she had screamed at him when he had come in through the door….and she had been screaming when father had come back home…and then father had managed to calm her down…but then father had been angry with him for being so selfish towards mother…and then father had told him that he wished that he hadn't been born…that he'd never had a son…if he knew that his son would have grown into the sort of person who could treat his own mother that way….

He hadn't had a birthday that year.

But that was neither here nor there. He was a grown man now, fort four years old, he was the head of the most successful cult on Earth, more money than his father had made in his lifetime, and two children of his own. What did he care if he'd gone one year without having a birthday? He'd gotten his gifts in the end and he hated cake so it was a win for him….and really father had been right to tell him that he wished that he'd never had a son….and Suzuki had been terrible to his mother then….and it didn't matter….

His Son had better have been pretty fucking grateful for everything that Suzuki had done for him.

Not just throwing this party. Not just getting him all the cakes from his diagram. Not just for letting him live in the house with him and Shigeko. Not just for never having had taught him kendo, even though he would have been good at it, because getting hit by a shinai without armor was incredibly painful. Not just for telling him that there were days when he wished that he hadn't taken his chances on that day with Masami…that he had been more careful even though condoms were terrible and made sex just plain not worth it….Son should have been grateful that Suzuki had been as good to him over the years as he had.

But of course the Boy would be ungrateful.

But, of course, there was nothing that he could do about it. He wanted to…well there were a great many things that he wanted to do. Things that he knew that Shigeko would not approve of. Things that he had no idea why Shigeko disproved of. Suzuki…his own parents…he remembered, now that he made an effort to, that his own parents had turned punishments into long and drawn out affairs. Shigeko should have been grateful that he hadn't done the same to her and her brother….but he would never have said anything like that to her. He loved her and he didn't want to upset her.

Or wake her.

So he didn't. He made his way quietly to his children's room and made damn sure that he didn't wake her up. She needed her sleep. She had been through something difficult and painful…and she may have still been going through it, he knew better than to ask her, and anyway it was not her birthday. It was Son's birthday and Suzuki was going to give him a good one and then that would be the end of it. He as not going to go through another year of his Son whining about how he had forgotten his birthday when such a thing wasn't even possible and-

Calm down, Touichirou.

He stayed calm. For the sake of his Daughter he stayed calm. Shigeko was so sensitive to changes in the aural energy around her…and that was alright. That was just the way she was and…and she seemed so peaceful sleeping there. Suzuki entered the room quietly and made sure not to step on any of the toys on the ground, especially the little plastic blocks, as he made his way to Shigeko's bed. He had to make his way to her first. She had kicked off her blankets in the night, well both children had, but Shigeko was the one who seemed cold. He tugged down her nightgown, it had gotten tangled around her knees as she slept, and he pulled her blanket down too. She smiled as he covered her…and she was so perfect when she smiled….well she was always so perfect. He brushed him hair from her face…and she still smiled. He smiled down at her as best as he could, he had never been good at smiling, and tucked one of her dolls under her. One of the ones that she had gotten for her last birthday. One of the ones that looked like her…

It had been such a good birthday.

All of her birthdays were simply wonderful. He still has no idea what he would do for her this coming year. She would be twelve…maybe she would want twelve new dolls? Like the days of Christmas or whatever the song was? Or maybe she would want another set of costumes made. She would grow some more…or maybe she would just like another doll that looked like her. She had so many already but she got older and her face changed and she got taller and she wore her hair in different ways, she had been braiding it less and less these days, so she would need a doll to reflect that. Yes, that would be good, but there was so much else that he could do….

The possibilities were dizzying.

But that day, her birthday, would come later. First he had to deal with Son. He was there in his bed and he had kicked off his blankets too…and his shirt had ridden up in his sleep. Suzuki could see the truly disturbing scar, the Lichtenberg figure, that made up his back…he looked away. He had no idea what it must have been like to go through life with a scar like that….but Son had known what he had been signing up for. He was the one who volunteered for the procedure. There. The thought comes before that emotion that was close to guilt could take root inside of Suzuki. His Son was fine…he was more than fine. This was his birthday.

And it would be a good one for him.

He picked his Son up with his powers and carried him through the house. He was careful not to knock him into anything, Shigeko would have been upset with him if he did, and he made sure that the ride was steady. He had done this to the children before, picked them up with his powers, back when they'd been small. They'd begged him and bothered him for rides and he'd only given in to shut them up…and because Masami had asked him to…and he never would have seen himself doing the same for his son at the age of eleven. He would have thought that the Boy could have done this for himself by now…and maybe he could….and maybe he should have shaken the boy awake and told him to go to the kitchen and to enjoy his birthday and never open his mouth about his insane theories that his father could have forgotten that day and-

And then Shigeko would have woken up…and that would have been terrible.

So, really, this was the best thing for him to do. He sat the Boy down hard enough to wake him up but not hard enough to hurt on a chair at the kitchen table. There, on the table, were all the gifts from his list and all the cakes that he enjoyed. Even a box of those truly disgusting toaster pastries that his Son so liked to fill his stomach and rot his teeth out with. There. All the things that a birthday needed. Now the Boy could be happy and go an entire year without whining on and on and on about how his father had forgotten his birthday. Now he would be free to find something to whine about which was true.

Though Suzuki would have preferred that his son never whined about anything else ever again.

"Wh…what the fuck?" asked Son as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Suzuki…it was a little past six in the morning, the sun was barely coming up, and he hadn't even brushed his teeth yet. It was too early to deal with the Boy and his filthy mouth.

"Today is December first. It's your birthday. You are eleven years old today. I did not forget. Enjoy your birthday. I'm going back to sleep. Don't disturb your sister." Said Suzuki. He said what he had to say and then he made his way back to his room. His Son was asking questions but he didn't feel like answering them. He just kept walking. There. He had done what he'd had to do. He had done what he'd had to do and that was it. He had to get up, to start the day, and to at the very least brush his teeth and shave….but he couldn't. Not now.

He needed his sleep.

He just…was tired. That was why he was ruminating on that day…the day that his Son had been born. The day that he had almost lost the most perfect human being that he had ever met in his life. His wife. His reason and his life. He had just…it had been….he didn't want to think about this. His mind was getting away from him. Her loss…her life…that day…he just…he was tired and that was why he was remembering that day…and others…his own birthdays….he had to go back to sleep. So that was what he did.

It was December first…he'd done what he'd had to do…and now he could just…go back to his room…and…wait for December second.