Daphne thought long and hard about what to name her daughter. A name had to mean something. It had to be good. She thought about it while she taught. She thought about it while she ate. She thought about it on the train and on the couch and on exorcism consultations—in the house, in the office, at school, and outside. Everywhere. The program was always running in the back of her mind.
She and Rin prepared that spare room for the babies' arrival, fitted it out with the best they could afford. They moved their desks into the living room and made due without an office. Daphne didn't care. She couldn't wait. Every time one or the other or the both of them turned over inside her, her pulse would spike in excitement at the reminder. Not that she really needed a reminder. She was pregnant with twins for godsake.
The weeks wore on. She grew as the babies did. Both were healthy, though the boy was slightly smaller. She held her breath at every appointment, still waiting for the inevitable bad news. But it never came. There wasn't any. At least, not about the babies.
Mephisto and Akiyama were working round-the-clock on the compression cube that contained their spirit. The bad news there was that there was no news. Akiyama could not determine a decay rate for the spell Mephisto had cast, and every method she engineered to exorcise the demon was pure speculation. She ran tests, but there was no way to be certain if any of her ideas would work. Mephisto, for his part, was silent on the subject.
Daphne did her best to put it from her mind. But it did stay there, to some degree, always floating at the fringes. Always turning over and over, like her consistent and yet unconscious attempts to find the right name.
She called Father Michael—to talk to him about everything, but also to ask if he would be the girl's godfather.
"Of course, kiddo," he chuckled. "I'd be honored. Jeeze. Yeah, yes. Yes. You let me know when you want me out there, and I'll be on a plane."
Daphne chuckled. "We'll see. They're due end of March, but they may come early."
"You tell them I said not to hurry."
She laughed again and then went quiet, a smile on her face. It was good to talk with Michael. He had this strong, calming sort of presence. She didn't know if that came with the territory of being a priest, or if it was just his nature, or even if she simply associated him with serenity because he'd been the one to train her, but she suddenly found herself wishing she'd spoken with him more often than she had across her life.
"You're excited, though?" he asked. "The two of you?"
"Very," Daphne said with a grin. "Rin's about ready to combust."
"That could be dangerous with that blue flame," Michael replied with a chuckle.
The comment got a laugh from Daphne, but it also dropped a little pebble into the pond of their conversation. Both of them were silent as they sensed the ripples. Michael spoke first.
"You think the kids'll inherit?"
Daphne let a long breath out through her nose. "I do," she said.
She'd grown more certain of it as time had passed. The twins' connection to Gehenna had been strong enough as zygotes for Daphne to have sensed it and felt its effects. Even if they didn't inherit the blue flame, that demon blood was bound to have some kind of sway. They wouldn't know until after they were born, of course.
"Are you worried?"
"About?"
"About extending the sire line of Satan," Michael replied.
Her jaw tightening, Daphne swallowed. "Mephisto did warn us."
"And?"
"And we haven't had any…problems…yet." She let a deep breath out her nose. "Things are a bit chaotic in Gehenna at the moment," she added. "Or so I'm given to believe." She'd sensed the churning of the energy between Assiah and Gehenna through her blade bond, but that was merely energy. Mephisto had spoken on politics, and that was something she had to take his word for. "There are other problems that need to be dealt ahead of mine and Rin's children."
"Daphne, once those problems are dealt with—"
"Satan will make himself known. In one way or another. I know."
Father Michael was quiet on the other end of the line. So was Daphne.
"We'll deal with it, Michael," she said, reassuring him for perhaps the first time in her life. "We'll be ready."
The chuckle he gave her in response was subdued, but when he spoke she could hear the smile in his voice. "I've never heard you talk like that," he said. "Even after you married Rin." He hummed a short, musing sound. "Being a mother seems to have turned you into a new person. Yourself—but perfected. Like a resurrection." He laughed. "These kids are your Easter, huh?"
It was then that a little bell rang in Daphne's mind. The name program stopped running.
She knew what to call her daughter.
She finished her conversation with Michael and said goodbye, then waited in eager anticipation for Rin to get home. She'd fallen in love with him all over again watching him get things ready, pick out furniture and clothes and bottles. When he got in that night, his face lit up at the sight of her, and for some reason it made her want to cry.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking off his jacket, slipping off his shoes, and coming into the living room to give her a kiss.
Daphne nodded. "Good."
Smiling, Rin turned his attention to her belly and leaned a little closer. "And how are you?" he asked their children. He'd talked and read to them as often as he could, determined to ensure that they knew his voice at least half as well as they knew hers.
Daphne ran her fingers through his hair. "They're good, too."
Rin straightened up, his mouth split in a grin, and Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him forward for another kiss. They spent a moment in the embrace before Daphne pulled back slightly to whisper.
"I know our daughter's name."
A little jolt went through Rin. "Tell me."
"Easter," she said.
His smile doubled, somehow, in breadth and width and light, and it brought a smile to Daphne's face. Tears pricked her eyes, and Rin kissed her.
"I love it," he said, pulling back. "It's perfect."
Daphne smiled, and Rin leaned down, pressing a kiss to the fabric of her shirt over her belly.
"Shiro and Easter," he said, then smiled up at Daphne. "I can't wait."