Tomatoes – Jiggety-Jig
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All Madoka-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio SHAFT and Gen Urobuchi.
[-]
"Okay, spill. I am not letting you get away again without something juicy."
In Junko Kaname's firmly held opinion, her best friend was getting far too much enjoyment out of constantly prying into her personal business. She had a dim feeling Kazuko was surreptitiously trying to gain tips on how to maintain a relationship without it crashing and burning.
Fortunately, since the relationship in question was doing precisely the opposite, Junko was in far too giddy of a mood to deny her.
"Well, alright, if you insist," she said, her voice light and teasing. "Let's see, what'd be interesting…oh wait, I know. Between you and me, we…err, slept together for the first time last weekend."
"Wait, it took you this long?" asked Kazuko, mirroring her tone. "You are definitely not the same girl I roomed with in college."
Junko playfully shoved her best friend and stuck out her tongue.
"Shut it, you bitch," she replied through giggles. "But you're right, I'm not. This isn't some fling with the hottest stud at the party. This is…well, I dunno what to call it. But I like it. It's different. It's better."
"How was it, then?" whispered Kazuko, all traces of levity vanishing from her voice in an instant. "I mean the…well…you know…"
"You've heard that old cliché about the quiet ones?" said Junko, to which the teacher-in-training nodded. "Well, uh…it's true. Let's just say that."
The bespectacled brunette clearly wasn't going to just take that answer on its own, as she immediately demanded, "Details. Now."
"Well, you see, he's…god, I just don't talk about this stuff, Kazuko," responded Junko, flushing awkwardly. "But he's…really gentle. At least at first. Lets me set the pace I'm comfortable with, and then…err…after…that…"
"I did not know human faces could get that pink, Junko," Kazuko cut in, patting her mortified friend on the shoulder. "Although I suppose I'm studying to teach English, not biology…"
"You are the worst. The literal, incomparable worst," said Junko, utterly deadpan. She reached for her drink and began to down the rest of it very quickly. There was suddenly not nearly enough alcohol in her body right now.
"Long story short, he fucks good. Okay, he fucks great. And I'm probably gonna need some more of it tonight just to forget this conversation ever happened," she added, before slamming the bottom of her now-empty glass hard on the bar. "That and about twenty more of these! Keep 'em coming, Rebecca!"
Kazuko Saotome was silent for a while after this, before eventually murmuring, "I'm really jealous, you know."
"That I can keep a boyfriend for more than a week at a time?" Junko couldn't keep herself from asking, though she immediately regretted it. "Wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like…"
"No, it's alright. I kinda had that one coming," said Kazuko, her voice subdued. "What I mean is, you've been going out for…what, two months now?"
"Plus a week or two, yeah," Junko answered with a nod.
"And you're still as goddamn giddy as you were the day you got together," she continued on. "I dunno, that's…that's just kind of big to me. I would've thought you'd have cooled off a bit by now, but the way you talk, you're still going on dates practically every day…"
"If you keep the definition of 'dates' wide enough, then I guess that's true," Junko told her friend, though she was smiling all the same. "But you do have a point. Tomohisa has a way of making freaking everything just so…I dunno. Romantic, I guess is the best word, but that's only part of it. Whatever we're doing, wherever we're doing it, he makes me feel like I'm the most special person in the whole fucking world. Even if it's just coffee or something."
"And he cooks for you, and he cleans, and he never tells you that you're starting to get crow's feet even though you're clearly too young for that and how dare he even suggest such a thing…!" exclaimed Kazuko, one fist clenched in the air as she began to sink into one of her signature rants.
Junko, for her part, just chuckled. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
[-]
It was, indeed, a fairly idyllic relationship. Certainly, Junko got into it far more than she'd ever expected herself to.
Remaining a cynic was simply too damn hard when she was around Tomohisa. He was so sincere, so earnest in proving his affection for her, that it was practically infectious. Each romantic gesture, a few of them grand and impressive but most small and everyday, made her want more and more to respond in kind.
He cooked her some wonderful French dish she couldn't pronounce, but that tasted so fucking good she came back for fourths? She schlepped through five stores to track down the DVD for an obscure anime he'd loved as a kid. He pressed and ironed all her suits in preparation for a business trip, so she wouldn't have to waste time and money taking them to the cleaners? She gave him a sensual massage after an especially long day at Wakō Garden.
Which, yes, had eventually turned into a night of wild sex. Sometimes these sorts of things turned out to be reciprocal.
Meanwhile, both of their careers were going quite well, and Junko was forced to admit that having someone to fall back on made her times at the office a lot easier. Even if it was only a listening ear while she ranted about some shit-for-brains client, Tomohisa had a way of making the most excruciating days seem just a bit brighter, and she was grateful for it.
Plus, while she didn't exactly like it, she was well-aware that having a polite, well-spoken, professionally dressed man on her arm wasn't exactly hurting her at social functions. Her coworkers seemed to find her less…intimidating that way, she supposed. More at ease.
Which was stupid and sexist, of course. But hey, you played the cards you were dealt.
Wakō Garden was succeeding well, if not spectacularly. Apart from a couple rough months near the start, the store had thus far managed to turn a profit each quarter, albeit a modest one. Word of mouth was good, and she'd helped the guys plan and execute a handful of special events to help drum up publicity.
The baking contest had been her favorite, since Tomohisa had quite shamelessly claimed the privileges of nepotism to make her one of the judges.
Of course, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. After about thirteen months of dating, they'd decided to try moving in together. It was a sensible decision – they both rented crappy one-bedroom apartments, and they both now made enough to afford something a little nicer if they pooled their incomes.
But the first few weeks had definitely been trying, on both their ends. Many of their habits were very different. He was a morning person, while she most assuredly was not; he enjoyed the occasional glass of wine at dinner, while she could (and often did) outdrink a crew of rowdy sailors.
They'd had their first fight about…well, honestly, she wasn't sure, as she'd been pretty damn plastered at the time. Which, okay, didn't exactly speak wonders for her side in the argument. But still.
She did remember them patching things up, however. Oh yeah…she remembered it very well.
Fantastic make-up sex aside, though, he turned out to be the ideal partner even in anger. He never became violent, never made things personal or blamed her for things that weren't her fault. Even with his temper shortened, he still managed to talk through their problems in a logical and straightforward way, owning up to his mistakes and encouraging her to acknowledge her own.
That he could stand up to her, challenge her when she needed to be challenged, without ever sacrificing the good and kind man he was at his core, was one of the most attractive aspects of his personality to her.
She'd overheard Kouta once jokingly call him "pussy-whipped," and she'd seen him just chuckle and shake his head in response. Junko had done so too, once she thought about it a bit. Because it might look that way to the outside, with how naturally assertive she was and how very much Tomohisa wasn't.
But the truth of the matter was, her boyfriend was every bit the strong and independent personality she was. He just didn't feel the need to be a jerk about it.
They complemented each other, made each other better and stronger with every day they learned how to be together.
Which was, ultimately, how they'd come to this moment.
[-]
It was a fancier restaurant than they usually went to on their dates, in that it was a restaurant at all.
Ninety percent of the time, Tomohisa chose to cook for her, something which she didn't mind in the slightest. The bespectacled man was a genius in the kitchen, though he had no formal training. And Junko was absolutely hopeless at preparing anything more complicated than ramen, so this suited her quite well.
Tonight, though, he'd surprised her after work with a reservation at an incredibly fancy sushi place. And flowers. Fucking flowers.
Sometimes, he was such a cliché. But Junko wasn't exactly about to start complaining.
Based on the waiter's recommendation, they'd wound up sharing a dish predominately composed of eel. It was her first time eating something like that, and she'd been worried in the back of her mind until the moment she brought it up to her lips, but once she took her first bite she knew she needn't have bothered.
"This is…wow…" she said, after swallowing her third mouthful. "I can't believe how good this is. The way they prepared it is…goddammit. I don't have words."
"I'm glad you like it," Tomohisa replied, smiling sincerely. "I was nervous for a bit that it might not be your cup of tea."
"I gotta know, how'd you even get a table here in the first place?" Junko asked. "I looked it up, and the waiting list here is like two months long."
"The manager is an old friend of Inaho's. He managed to pull a couple strings," explained her boyfriend. "It cost me a couple bags of my best cherry tomatoes, but it was worth it."
"Alright then, one more question," she added, taking a long sip of the restaurant's best wine as she did. "Why go through all this trouble? I mean, it's not my birthday or some anniversary or anything. Or at least I don't think it is."
"Nah, nothing like that," said Tomohisa in a low voice. "I just…well, umm…"
"Oh, now I get it," Junko cut across him, a devilish smirk spreading over her face. "You're trying to butter me up, get a little something in return? Well, I think I can live with that. You know, there's this cosplay shop I know that sells something that's more or less 'Slutty Sailor Moon,' if you're into that sort of thing…"
The brunette immediately turned a delicate shade of crimson, his eyes shooting downward to stare intently at his plate.
"No, that's not it either!" he exclaimed in a squeaky voice, looking ridiculously cute as he did. "I mean, uh…I certainly wouldn't say no to that if you offered, but…err…anyway! I'll just go ahead and do this before I lose the nerve."
"Do what?" she asked, honestly confused.
Instead of responding directly, however, he waited for her to drain the last of her wine before whispering, "Would you take a look at the bottom of your glass?"
Still unsure of what the hell was going on, Junko did as instructed. And her heart skipped a beat.
For inscribed beneath the last dregs of the dark port she'd been drinking were several characters in kanji, each brushstroke perfect and precise.
Will you marry me?
"I hope that doesn't look too cheap…I wasn't sure if you were the type who'd want a ring or something like that…" said Tomohisa, his words stumbling over themselves to fill the increasingly lengthy silence. "I mean, if you want a ring, I'll go out and get one tonight! I just thought this would be appropriate, y'know…because you drink so much…not that I have a problem with your drinking! Aaaaaaaand stop talking Tomohisa, you're only making things worse…"
But Junko was, admittedly, barely listening to her boyfriend anymore. Her brain was far too busy trying to process what'd just happened.
She'd thought about marriage, sure, in the general sense. What girl hadn't? But she'd just as quickly decided it wasn't for her. That life of the perfect Japanese wife – quaint little house, neatly trimmed yard, two kids and maybe a dog – simply wasn't for her.
Then again…she'd been certain that a relationship like this also wasn't for her. Up until it'd shown up right at her doorstep and proven itself to be, frankly, the best damn thing to ever happen in her life.
She was happier than she could ever remember being, simply by virtue of dating Tomohisa. But an entire life together? Joined at the hip as they navigated all the world's ups and downs, together, till death did them part and all that jazz?
It didn't sound nearly as crazy as it would've just a few short months ago.
Junko loved him. She hadn't said it yet, in so many words, but she knew it was true. And ultimately, that was all that mattered.
Before she'd even consciously acknowledged it, she knew what her answer was. And a single, solitary word, loaded with a dozen others things she could think to say and a thousand she couldn't, tumbled from her lips.
"Yes."
[-]
The ceremony was small and intimate, though still undeniably beautiful. They'd both agreed, and neither of them had had living parents to protest, that a lavish and expensive wedding would've been a colossal waste of money – especially as they were considering buying a house together within the next few years.
Tomohisa certainly brought out her romantic side far more than she'd ever thought possible, but that didn't make her stupid.
Still, they'd made the most of their modest budget. A dress code (anything nice and white, basically) rather than specific outfits picked out for the groomsmen and bridesmaids, a small portion of a nearby park they'd rented for a few hours rather than a fancier venue, and food that was largely homemade or provided by Wakō Garden, rather than by some expensive caterer.
Inaho served as the best man, with Kouta and Hermann rounding out the groomsmen. Kazuko was the maid of honor, naturally, while Tomohisa's sister Akane and Inaho's wife Ryoko were invited to be her bridesmaids. She didn't know either of them too well, but it seemed the diplomatic thing to do.
The Shinto priest who'd originally blessed Wakō Garden officiated the ceremony, while a few of Kazuko's work friends provided entertainment. Why a bunch of teachers-in-training had decided to form a heavy metal band was a mystery, but they sounded pretty good and played cheap, so Junko wasn't about to complain.
Overall, there were about fifty people present, most of whom Junko barely knew or only knew from work. More staff members from Frontier Settings had shown up than she'd been expecting, though she guessed her recent promotion had something to do with it.
For the first time in her life, the purple-haired woman had employees trying to suck up to her. It felt pretty good.
The ceremony itself passed her by like a blur, strange and confusing but oh so right. There were the standard spiritual and religious rites, and stumbled-through speeches (let it never be said Junko couldn't match her fiancé in sheer ability to a jumbled-up ball of awkwardness), and the most wonderful kiss of her entire fucking life which by this point was really saying something.
And then, after what seemed like no time at all, they were dancing together, just the two of them. As husband and wife.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. That was really true. This'd really just happened.
They were husband and wife.
"What're you thinking about, right now?" he asked in a low voice as they twirled, in time with the beat. Despite the heavy and powerful instruments used, Kazuko's friends had chosen a surprisingly soft song to start off the evening.
She just smiled, leaned up, and kissed him one more time.
"This. Just…this," she whispered back, meaning every word.
[-]
Ultimately, about three months after officially becoming Tomohisa and Junko Kaname, they had wound up buying that house.
That'd surprised her quite a bit. Not the house – it was gorgeous and an absolute steal at that price, proving once and for all that it was a very good idea to have a realtor on your side when doing this sort of thing – but that he'd decided to take her surname.
"Technically, the tradition is that the lower-class person takes the family name of their spouse," he pointed out, when curiosity finally got the best of her and she asked about it. "And you make a lot more money than I do."
"If we're going back to feudal times, sure," she said, her lip curled upward a bit. "But by those standards we'd both be filthy commoners."
"Well, you've got me there," replied Tomohisa, a smile appearing to match hers. "Would you believe it's just that I like the ring to 'Tomohisa Kaname' more than 'Junko Inoue'?"
She gave a sly grin. "I think I could be persuaded of your sincerity," she whispered, pulling him close and brushing her lips against his neck. Dammit, bantering with him always got her a bit randy.
Those first couple years of marriage had been simultaneously dream and nightmare, all at once. Living together in a space that was all their own, paying down a mortgage and building equity (which, no matter how much she knew about the business, was definitely a tougher matter from this side of the equation), filing their first joint taxes…even for a certified "Type-A" personality like herself, it was all more than a little overwhelming.
But they pushed through, as a team, because it was worth it. They were worth it.
Work kept them both busy, but when their days off managed to coincide, they lived every moment as if they were newlyweds. Which…they were, to be fair. But that was beside the point.
Tying the knot had done little to dampen Tomohisa's passion for romance, and her desire to respond in kind. Indeed, if anything, it'd only strengthened them.
True, they no longer had nearly as much time for the late-night, whirlwind sorts of dates, but they learned to make the most of what they did have. Even just curling up together to watch a movie was often enough, so long as he prepared a nice snack to go with it. And so long as he was willing to put up with her snarky commentary throughout.
Which he did, of course. Tomohisa put up with a lot – more than she ever would've expected anyone to.
She'd lost count of the number of times she'd stumbled home, drunk off her ass and barely able to stand, because some fucker had stolen the promotion that was rightfully hers, or because Kazuko had just dumped another twenty boyfriends and she couldn't bear to hear about it sober. Hell, sometimes she didn't even get home at all – she'd clumsily dial for him and slur the name of the bar into her phone, then pray to the Gods of Alcoholic Beverages that he understood.
Yet he never complained, not once. Or at least if he did, she'd been too drunk at the time to remember. Either way, the man had the patience of a saint, and sometimes she simply couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found him.
Junko wasn't the easiest person to live with. She knew that, and he knew that. But by some strange, glorious miracle, he didn't care.
Tomohisa was her husband. Her husband. Sometimes that notion still floored her. That any other person would care about her so deeply that, warts and all, he'd want to dedicate the rest of his life to being by her side…
It was the most incredible feeling. Day-in and day-out. So much more wonderful, and terrifying, and beautiful all at the same time, than she ever could've imagined.
That was what those first few years were like.
So it was inevitable, really, that things would eventually have to make a change.
[-]
On this day, Junko was lying on their living room couch, half-watching some dumb soap opera and leaning over every once in a while to vomit.
She'd been like this for nearly the entire week, taking sick leave from work for the first time in she-couldn't-even-remember-when. And though he hadn't asked her to, she'd voluntarily exiled herself from the bed a few days prior, just to make sure she didn't pass anything along to Tomohisa.
He was as supportive as he always was throughout the ordeal, fetching her tea and hot towels with a speed bordering on superhuman. But he was also at work now, and wouldn't be home for another few hours.
Thinking about that nearly made her throw up again. Times like this, she needed her Tomo…
The doorbell rang, and Junko clutched her head in agony. Right now it felt like every hangover she'd ever had in her life – which, needless to say, was a lot – were getting together to have a dance-off in her skull.
Reluctantly, she raised her head and shouted, "It's open!"
She heard the sound of a hand jiggling the door handle. "No it's not!" replied Kazuko's voice.
"Well it's locked, then!" exclaimed Junko in a slur, but ultimately, though she very much didn't want to, she dragged herself out from under her blankets and unlocked the door.
Kazuko was holding a thermos – of soup, presumably – and a basket full of off-the-shelf medications. "Tomohisa called, asked me to deliver these to you," she said, pushing her way in as she did. "I didn't know exactly what you had so I grabbed everything."
Junko just gaped at the no less than twenty or thirty boxes her best friend was laden with.
"Hey, you figure it out, you tell me," she muttered miserably, collapsing back into her little cocoon on the couch. "God, I've never felt this bad. Headaches, nausea, cramps, the works."
"Err…well, I had one other theory…" responded Kazuko in a small voice, not meeting her eyes. "Just to be on the safe side, you know. Please don't get mad."
She pulled one particular box out of the massive pile, and handed it to Junko with trembling fingers.
The realtor's eyes went wide as saucers.
"You cannot be serious," she said.
[-]
Fifteen minutes later, Junko stood in front of her bathroom mirror, watching an indicator light slowly turn from white to blue.
"You cannot be serious," she repeated to herself, struggling to grasp everything that'd just changed in this single moment.
[-]
When Tomohisa came home that night, it was to find his wife sitting at the table, nervously wringing her hands and determinedly looking everywhere but at him.
After learning the reason for her sudden change in health, Junko had immediately sent Kazuko home with a terse "Thank you." The young teacher had offered to talk, of course, but Junko had told her that she needed some time alone to think.
But no amount of time could've really prepared her for this moment.
"Hi, honey," he said with a wave, his tone bright and compassionate. "Did that soup help at all? I managed to whip it up on my break, but I don't really think it was my best work…"
"No, no, it was delicious," murmured Junko, grateful for the chance at small talk. Anything to delay the moment where she'd have to break the news. "Thank you so much."
"Anytime, Junko," he replied pleasantly, pulling her in for a light, careful hug. "Are you feeling any better? Anything else I can do to help? Just name it."
In response, she kissed him gently, on the cheek. "Just…sit down, okay?" she told her husband. "I…I need to tell you something."
Tomohisa complied instantly. "What's the matter?" he asked, his eyes shimmering with concern.
Junko had spent the last several hours trying to figure out the best way to put this…and had come up with a grand total of diddly and squat. As such, with no better ideas coming to the surface, she went ahead and got it over with.
"I'm pregnant!" she said, more loudly than she'd been intending.
There was a very long, very uncomfortable silence that followed her blurting out those words. If the news itself hadn't been enough to throw Tomohisa for a loop, the tone she'd said them in certainly hadn't helped. It was a strange, indecipherable mix of agony, elation, and regret, and it captured the emotions swirling inside of her now perfectly.
How was he supposed to figure out how she was feeling, and sympathize with it, when she didn't even know?
Ultimately, he pulled his chair up to sit beside hers and, without saying anything, slung one arm across her back. Junko didn't speak either, but privately, she was grateful beyond words.
She hadn't honestly expected him to just turn tail and run, which didn't mean part of her hadn't feared it.
Finally, after she-had-no-idea-how-long, his lips parted slightly, and he whispered, "This is…a happy moment, isn't it? I'm happy, I mean. Like, really happy. But if you aren't…that is, it's your choice. You don't, err…we don't have to…"
Junko held up a hand to stop him.
"I know what you're getting at, but I've thought this over a lot. I'm keeping it," she said. "I mean, it's not like I never thought about it before. Deep down, y'know? A child, with…with you, Tomo. I certainly didn't think it'd happen so soon, but…"
She couldn't come up with any words to continue.
"Well, if you're willing to give it a shot, then I'm in too. One-hundred percent," responded Tomohisa, his voice full of conviction…and at the same time, not a small amount of terror. "God, I'm going to be a father. A father…"
As he pulled and tugged at his face, however, so overwhelmed by emotion that all the energy in his body had essentially flowed out of him, he noticed his wife's expression, and quickly leaned back toward her.
"You're about to cry," he stated, placing one hand across her cheek as he did. It wasn't a question.
True to his word, a few seconds later, the first tears began to flow. "I just…I'm just not…I'm just not ready…!" Junko managed to choke out.
"Not ready for what?" Tomohisa asked quietly.
She tried, ineffectually, to dab at her puffy eyes. Her husband had a bit more success, and she gave him a small smile as he did.
"I'm just not ready to…to give it all up," she said after a little while, her voice hoarse and throaty. "After all these years, my career is finally tracking to where I always dreamed it'd be, but now…"
Junko paused to swallow, hard, and when she spoke again she sounded a bit clearer, though no less distraught.
"I know I already get enough glares, having kept my job after marrying you. They think I can't see them, but I do," she continued. "But you didn't care, so I said fuck 'em and didn't let it get me down. But this? Babies are a full-time job on their own. You can't half-ass it and expect things to turn out okay. I learned that well enough from my dad."
The words were barely out of her lips before Tomohisa answered, "We're a team, remember? You don't have to quit anything if you don't want to. If it's okay with you, I'll stay here and take care of the child."
Junko's found her mouth hanging agape, wider than it'd ever been since the night he'd confessed to her in the middle of Wakō Garden.
"You…You're sure about that?" she asked, her lip trembling at what he'd just offered. "But…the store…"
"Will do just fine without me," said Tomohisa, sounding more and more sure of himself with each word he uttered. "Let's face facts: you're going places. I wouldn't be surprised to see you as the CEO in ten or fifteen years. Whereas Wakō Garden is pretty much making exactly as much money as it ever will. And Kouta's ready to take my spot running things. He wasn't a few years ago, but he is now."
"But it was your dream…" she muttered, now leaning her head against his shoulder.
"To see it happen, yeah. Not to own it forever," he explained, lightly stroking her hair as he did. "Look, thanks to you and me and the others…there's finally a place in Mitakihara where the average guy off the street can get some fresh produce, anytime he wants. That means something to me. But balancing the register, restocking inventory, paying property tax? That's all just busy work. And it doesn't have to be me doing it."
He held her close, and Junko took a moment to savor the feel of him around her, the scent of his clothes and the warmth of his arms.
"But if the rest of my life was just staying in this house, waiting for you to come home? Cooking and cleaning and just being there, for you and a kid or two?" added Tomohisa, his tone soft and sincere in that way nobody else could match. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do more."
The tears were falling freely by that point – but now they were happy ones, hot and damp and absolutely ecstatic.
"I love you," she said through choked, halting breaths, suddenly desperate to pull her mouth against his, to show him how much it was true. "God, I love you so fucking much, Tomo…"
"I love you too, Junko," he replied, though the declaration was accompanied by a sort of forced, nervous grimace. "So I hope you take it with the best of intentions when I say…err…that your…your breath…"
Belatedly, Junko realized that she hadn't washed her mouth out since the last time she'd purged what she now knew to be morning sickness – or whatever you called "morning sickness" when it came in the afternoon – and flushed horribly.
"Oh god, I am so so so so so so sorry…!" she squeaked, immediately running for the bathroom for an extremely vigorous application of mouthwash.
[-]
When she returned, Tomohisa was sitting at the dinner table, one hand flipping through various documents and the other tapping away furiously at a calculator.
He looked up when she arrived, and gave a small smile. "Working out expenses. Well…roughly," he said. "Money'll be tight for a while, but even without my income I think we could pull this off."
Junko kissed her husband on the neck. "God, you're so hot when you're practical," she told him, half teasing and half completely sincere. She was gonna enjoy having hormonal changes to blame for how horny she'd be for the next nine months.
She needed something to make up for the fact that she wouldn't be able to drink for that long.
"You are literally the only person on Earth who would say that," replied Tomohisa, not at all disapprovingly. He kissed her back on the lips to demonstrate, thankfully smelling only fresh mint on them now.
"That's probably true," she whispered, now playing with his hair as she draped herself over his shoulders. "You know, you've been…so fucking wonderful, through all of this. I feel like…like I should let you have something in return, right? For everything you're giving up."
"Nothing I'm giving up is worth a tenth what having a family with you would be," said Tomohisa, his voice soft and utterly contented. "But what'd you have in mind?"
"I think…I wanna give you first dibs on the baby's name. That would be fair, wouldn't it?" she offered, nuzzling against him. "I reserve the right to veto if I just can't stand it, of course. But otherwise, it's your call."
"Oh…wow…" murmured Tomohisa, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "That's…a lot to put on a guy."
"You don't have to decide right now, of course!" Junko hastily added. "Just…something to think about, y'know?"
"No, actually I…this is something I've thought about before. Not really seriously, but…err…" he said quietly.
"Well if you have ideas already, I'd love to hear them," responded his wife. "Umm…I dunno if that came out sounding sarcastic or sincere, but I meant it to be the latter. Promise."
Tomohisa chuckled a bit. "Uh, well…I guess if you're asking…" he muttered nervously. "I always liked the name…Tatsuya, for boys. I'm not sure why. I guess I just like the ring to it."
"Tatsuya…" Junko repeated in a low voice, testing the sound of it on her tongue. "Yeah, I think I could see that one. And if it's a girl?"
At this, however, her husband bit his lip. "If it's a girl…well…" he said, steadying himself with a few deep breaths before going on. "If it's a girl…I was wondering if…if…"
"Go on," she asked of him, trying to sound encouraging. Even after all this time spent together with Tomohisa, she still didn't quite have the knack for it.
"I wondered if…we could name her after my mom," Tomohisa finally finished, his eyes slightly moist.
Junko thought about this for quite a while. The warm smile and sage advice she'd received from Mrs. Inoue, even if they'd only met the one time. The clear influence she'd had on making her husband into the kind, gentle, amazing soul he was today.
And how utterly, truly happy she'd clearly been, seeing the two of them in love.
Junko smiled wide, and kissed Tomohisa again.
"Yeah…I like the sound of that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as he got up from his chair and embraced her with all his heart and soul.
She placed one hand over her abdomen, and imagined the future that lay before them now. What incredible, wonderful twists and turns their relationship might take in the years to come.
A relationship that'd began, all those years ago, with a dropped crate full of cherry-red tomatoes, and would continue on with…
"Madoka Kaname."