Sorry if it's so short but I've had a shitastic week. End of story.
Saying Reisi was stressed was an understatement.
He left work in a blur of panic, arriving home in minutes and finding his mate clinging to the kitchen counter for dear life. There was a puddle of clear liquid between his trembling legs on the floor, soaking through the dark blue sweatpants he was wearing, and Reisi didn't even need to ask what it was. He scooped his mate up with ease, his Omega moaning and crying, clutching at the front of his uniform with knuckles that turned white with strain. The whole scene was heartbreaking and he wanted to stop and comfort his pained lover, but Saruhiko grit his teeth and leveled a stare that sent a spark down his spine. "Get me to a hospital," he snarled each word with venom and Reisi nodded hastily, carefully but quickly taking them to their car.
Saruhiko sounded like a cat in heat all the way to the hospital, making pitiful mewling noises that tugged at his heartstrings whenever the contractions were too much for the younger to hold in his throat. They booked the boy into the emergency room immediately, and Reisi forced his way after him-dismissing the request he sign some paperwork with a single glare and flare of blue energy that let them know who he was if they were too daft to figure it out by his attire. He followed the gurney with hastened steps, eyes focusing on the boy's ashen face, sweat beading like drops of rain, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched against the contractions which Reisi couldn't even begin to imagine.
Into a little operating room with an overhead lamp and Reisi was thoroughly confused. Normally a mother who was having contractions was put into a normal room to wait for the baby to crown. He objected but the doctor just said that they would have to perform a c-section because due to the frequency of contractions so early it was likely one of the babies was in the wrong position. At the words he saw Saruhiko's pupils dilate in fear, and he quickly got into the boy's field of vision and gripped his hand tightly, murmuring words of comfort that he didn't quite believe. It was all happening too fast, too violently, and as they injected the anesthetic and blocked the boy's view with a blue curtain, Reisi wondered if the boy's worst fears were coming true, if they would lose a baby or both in all the mess.
When the first cut was made, Reisi swallowed his bile behind the white surgical mask he was forced to wear. Saruhiko watched him with half lidded, stormy eyes, not speaking but not silent, letting out small whispering sounds that sounded like small sobs. Tears were beading at the corners of the boy's eyes, and at first Reisi feared he was feeling pain still, but he realized quickly it was fear in those eyes and padded the boy's sweaty forehead with a sterile rag and gently caressed his cheek with his light blue rubber glove.
And then there was the sound of a baby crying.
It was a sharp clear sound, with a bit of gurgling, that rooted Reisi where he stood, his eyes darting to see his baby, no longer glued to his lover's face. The doctors held the small screaming pink creature, body smeared in blood and clear fluids, umbilical cord trailing down into Saruhiko's sliced open abdomen. It was a boy, from what he could see, and Reisi didn't even notice he had started crying until his glasses started to fog up. He wiped away the film against the collar of his shirt, and then directed his attention to his lover's face.
He froze when he saw Saruhiko's eyes wide, pupils small in a sea of blue, the boy's face paler than ever, mouth slightly parted.
Saruhiko wasn't breathing.
It was then that he registered the panicked voices and the horrible sound of a flat lining machine. He had been so caught up in the moment he had realized what had been going on, the doctor quickly taking out the second child and putting it aside before Reisi could really take a look at his other child, Reisi being pushed out the door whilst he was frozen in shock. The door slammed behind him and he was left shaking against the white door, he methodically took off the gloves and mask, tearing off the shroud they had given him with surprisingly steady hands. He was in shock, unable to register what was going on, what was happening. All he knew was his children were safe and Saruhiko wasn't, and that his face felt numb, his fingers cold.
Taking a few staggering steps he managed to make it to a row of chairs along the wall before his legs gave out, the reality of situation hitting like a ton of bricks. Chest heaving, beginning to hyperventilate, he wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and grab Saruhiko and just shake him awake-but he knew better than that. He was no use to the doctors in there, the medical staff already with their hands full. He wouldn't do any good for Saruhiko by losing his head, there was still hope, still a chance they could bring him back.
There just had to be a chance left.
Forty minutes after the whole ordeal he found himself texting his lieutenant to tell her to come, if for nothing but moral support, and then shut off his phone. He knew she would tell Izumo, who would tell Yata, who would tell everyone else, so there was no problem there. They had managed to restart the boy's heart, but he was in a coma, the final word being massive internal bleeding in the lower abdomen that had been caused by the abrupt contractions, tearing open his intestines and pelvic tissue. They sewed him up, patched him down, set him up in a room to rest and recuperate, but Saruhiko was still not awake.
He had yet to leave the plastic chairs he had fallen in, unable to get up and follow his unconscious lover's gurney as he was shipped down the hall and around the corner. He had seen his pale face, the ashen tones and tear marks, and had been rooted to the spot. His heart called for Saruhiko, his brain called for his children, and his soul was torn in every which direction imaginable. The moment he realized his mate was dead, he felt the horrible agony swelling in his chest and along the bond that had severed down the middle. Was this was Mikoto had felt when Totsuka had died? Was this what he felt the month before his act of suicide? No wonder mates followed one another to the grave, the thought of living without Saruhiko was unbearable.
But the bond was back, weak but there, and suddenly his lieutenant was in front of him too, fuming. She yelled at him for leaving his children unattended, that it wasn't what Saruhiko would have wanted, but then her eyes had softened at his broken look and she helped him down the hall to the nursery. Yata Misaki was already there, looking every bit the worried godparent, tears in his eyes and clutching at Akiyama who was still in uniform.
His children were beautiful through the glass window, fresh babes wrapped in pink and blue blankets in cribs marked with Reisi's last name. He longed to touch them, to hold them, but at the same time he was fearful. They looked so delicate, he thought as the nurse led him inside, the others waiting outside patiently, they looked like he could break them with a single touch. He was given his son, a little pink thing wrapped in blue, and his opinion changed immediately.
He was a newborn, a wrinkled creature with folds of bright pink skin, but to Reisi he was holding a strong child that belonged to him and Saruhiko. This was his son, this was their son. He held his daughter too and thought the same, running a finger down the sleeping baby's chubby cheek and wondering how the beautiful creature in his arms got there.
He was so caught up in the wonder that he once again didn't realize he was crying.
The nurse came up behind him and asked him what the children's names would be. He looked down at his daughter who slept soundly in his arms and the name left his lips, knowing Saruhiko would approve despite them never agreeing on a name.
"Yorokobi* and Maria"
Saruhiko woke up on a Saturday, eight days later, confused and feeble but awake nontheless. He wasn't coherent, falling asleep soon after waking, and Reisi stayed by the boy's bedside since day one anyway-the nursery taking charge of the infants so they could check for complications rather than Reisi being lazy. Later that day the boy reawakened, feverishly begging for his children with teary eyes and breathy whispers, not even acknowledging that Reisi was there. It was fine, Reisi understood, the bond between mother and child was a thing of mystery and awe, and he would not come between that.
When Saruhiko held both his children in his arms, he made an expression that Reisi had never seen on anyone before. Fondness, happiness, joy, the desire to protect, unconditional love...it was all there in that single look, in those warm blue eyes and that gentle smile, tears dripping down his face as he cooed softly at the babies who both had his sapphire eyes and wisps of Reisi's dark blue hair. Reisi told him their names and Saruhiko beamed at him, whispered that they were perfect, and rocked his babies with the love only a mother could give.
They discharged Saruhiko and their children three days later, after all the test were run and no complications were found, and it was suddenly time to introduce their children to their new home. Saruhiko was still weak, stomach flat but sore, and he carried Yorokobi in his arms while Reisi held Maria in a little pink basket. Reisi dressed their children in their onesies and put them to bed after feeding them, Saruhiko protesting that he wanted to help but his legs carrying him to their bed of their own accord and passing out in seconds.
Their children safely tucked in their cribs, the day just started yet so exhausted and relieved, Reisi snuck into bed after his mate and held him without a regret in the world.
The little black velvet box sitting on the kitchen windowsill by a single blue rose.
*Yorokobi is Japanese for Joy