A/N: Okay, here we go, fifth chapter! I know that this probably isn't appealing reading for a lot of people, but I don't care.

WARNING! There's talk of childbirth (and methods thereof) and nursing in this chapter. So, if you're uncomfortable with it, I guess you could skip over parts of it.

And, because it's habit to say, I don't own Cirque du Soleil or KA.

Life at the Temple of the Harp went relatively smoothly for them. They spent time praying with the brothers or hunting for food, usually. Akihito ended up spending most of his days away from the Temple, hunting food for his people and all. Michiko spent most of her days sitting in the Harp Room, talking to her growing stomach, rubbing it as someone played the Harp. Fusasaki and Kong Zĭ often spent time with her in there, the monk teaching the boy how to play the Harp.

Michiko, at a new twenty two, sighed at seeing the young monk and the little boy spending such time together. All that was going on was too much for such young boys. Kong Zĭ was only sixteen, and poor Fusasaki had only turned nine a few weeks prior. The boy was quiet and kept to himself, though there were about eight other children his age which ran away with them.

"Fusa," she called from where he was watching another brother of the order play the Harp. He turned and stood, hurrying over. She was seven months pregnant now, and the boy had taken it upon himself to help her.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked.

"I have a question for you."

"If it's about those lemons you wanted, your husband hasn't gotten any yet."

"No, it's not about the lemons." Though lemons did sound pretty delicious at that moment. Of course, they had for the past three weeks. "I was merely wondering, why don't you play with any of the other children?"

Fusasaki looked down and sat down at her feet, staring at his hands. "All the other children are the children of the nobles. Asano is the daughter of honorable Lord Takeda Tetsuya, and—"

"Former," interrupted Michiko. "We have no titles now, Fusasaki. Remember that."

"Yes, right. But Asano is the daughter of Takeda Tetsuya and Yoshinaka is the son of Kagetoki Kajiwara and…I'm just the son of the former Vizier. When my father dies, if we still had a court, I would inherit no title, no land, and relatively little wealth. I don't want to play with children who are already above me and they don't want to play with anyone below them."

"Now you would be surprised, good child." She placed a dainty hand on his head, running her fingers through his black curls. "As of now, your father is the only person who knows definitely the history of our kingdom. My husband and sister know a bit, but only the history of their ancestors-military exploits and such. Your father, Fusasaki, knows absolutely everything. Learn from him, and you'll be very important when you're older."

"He has tried to teach me such things in the past, but I cannot sit still long enough."

"You have a whole life ahead of you, child. You'll learn." And they fell silent, listening to the Harp contentedly.

Days after Fusasaki and Michiko talked, the boy asked his father about the history of their kingdom, and spent the rest of the day with him, soaking up as much information as he could. It must be noted that it wasn't a completely noble cause, instead used to put himself at the same level and above the other children so he could play with them.

Don't misunderstand, of course he liked Kong Zĭ fine, but he was much, much older than him, and he just wanted to play with children his own age. The monk was nice, but he wasn't a child.

It was after lunch that the boy looked over and saw Gen—former General Mihito walking with Yoshiko, arm in arm. "Father, what are they talking about?" he asked, watching the Princess bow her head and close her eyes tightly.

"I do not know, child. But it is not our business, is it?" replied Tadamichi.

"No, I suppose not."

The two were talking, oddly enough, about Tadamichi and Fusasaki Fujiwara among other things and people. Mihito was very concerned about the princess, wondering where the happy princess he had once known had gone. And so, he tried to break the apathetic shell that had never once faltered.

"Please Yoshiko. Just look at young Fusasaki. He misses his mother very, very much, but he and his father have mourned her and have begun to move on in their lives. Surely you can do the same," he was saying.

"I refuse to forget my parents," said Yoshiko quietly, her eyes shut tight. She wished with all her might that she could just claim rank and make him silent, but those ranks had died with the kingdom.

"They needn't be forgotten. They will never be forgotten, but you must move past your grief. I have seen what it does to soldiers and—"

"I am not a soldier, Mihito, you forget," she hissed, sending him one of the first glares in a year.

"Fine then. Will you have young Nukatabe grow up knowing you as a harsh woman with no emotion?"

That made Yoshiko's glare falter. She loved that baby, the little girl no older than a year and a half, with likely no memory of their past life. But she stayed strong in the face of perceived adversary.

"If that is my reputation for remembering my parents, then I shall take it." They walked in silence for a bit, passing into one of the quieter rooms in the monastery. The children sometimes used it to play in, but they were off at the moment.

"You know," commented Mihito offhand, "in town, there has been talk of Emperor Shi Huangdi's newborn son. Huhai he is called. But a lot of people are already calling him the Second Emperor." And that was it. That was what finally broke through the former princess. She let out a keening whine, breaking into gusty, body wracking sobs.

Her blonde head fell against his chest, and so Mihito held her, torn between many emotions. When he had first visited the palace, a new General, he had first seen the Royal Family in person. King Munehito was immortalized in statues and paintings across the kingdom of course, but it was different. And when he saw the princess, he had no trouble accepting the tales of her beauty and poise. Later he learned that she was a trickster and a laughing young woman, and started to admire her.

And here he was, holding the former princess and stroking her hair to comfort her, and yet he felt no delight. No joy was found in the embrace. She wept uncontrollably for a half an hour, before she quieted, pulling away and wiping her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, blue eyes meeting his brown eyes. "I suppose I needed that."

"Every last one of us has needed that," he agreed.

"Catharsis. I should have known."

"Yoshiko, beating yourself up over critical analysis of tragic plays will do you no good," said Mihito, smiling softly at her. She smiled back, one of the few smiles in the past year.

"I think I needed to do that. So I thank you." She then kissed his cheek, turning and leaving. The former General stood there for a minute, shocked, but smiled, and followed.

Yoshiko was not fully "cured", as t'were, after a tearful half hour, but she began to smile again, making her brother and sister joyous as they had not been since Michiko first discovered her pregnancy.

The Brothers of the Temple of the Harp on the other hand, were not pleased. She began to pull pranks on anyone and everyone, conspiring with the children to get water to fall on Lăozĭ's head or to slip frogs into Yìjìng's bed.

The first time the frogs appeared, Akihito knew exactly what happened, and swept his sister into a crushing hug, the muscles from his time in the military causing her to gasp for air. It was by far the happiest day in many months. If one had looked, one would have also seen Noriko and the former Lord Takeda Tetsuya holding hands quietly as they smiled at the twins.

Around that time, the physician, Miki Ichinose, began to talk to the expecting couple about birthing methods and which way they should prefer. It was extremely awkward for poor Akihito, but he knew it was necessary and refused to speak more than he absolutely had to. Yoshiko was there for some reason, and was giggling about his blush.

"Aside from traditional birth lying on a bed, you can give birth standing up, crouching, or in water," Miki was saying.

"Water?" echoed Michiko worriedly. "But would that not drown the baby?"

"Actually, you will find that when you enter childbirth, what seems like water will—"

"Miki, I hate to interrupt, but I do believe that some of the children are listening outside," murmured Akihito. "It would be wise, I believe, to keep all extended speech until another time."

"Smartest thing you've said yet!" said Yoshiko happily, making them all smile.

"Either way, Michiko, the water would not harm the child. Some mothers say that it encourages the child to come quicker and it helps ease the pain."

"And the others would all hurt?" asked Michiko.

"Well, sometimes. In this case, I'm sad to say that this area has few herbs that could help ease the pain. As a result, women in the village are more prone to take childbirth in a warm bath."

"I see the intelligence in that decision…very well. A birth in a warm bath."

"Do you have anything to offer?' asked Miki, turning to Akihito, whose face was still bright red.

"No, Miki, I do not. I will be fine saying no more." The women each smiled at him and his dignified embarrassment. "Now if you would excuse me, I have to leave and get away from this conversation." He stood and left, opening the door and revealing a small crowd of children, who squealed and ran away from the red faced unofficial leader of their exiled group.

"I do so wonder what sort of conversations they will have with their parents," giggled Yoshiko, watching them scamper away. "Poor Asano already has her father consorting with Noriko Mitsui and all…"

"Kishi, please refrain from insulting my friend," said Michiko as she was helped to her feet with a grunt. "And please find out if those accursed lemons are here yet."

"Have you eaten all of the ones your husband brought already?" asked Miki.

"I would thank you not to criticize me, Miki."

"I suppose I shall never receive that thanks then, will I?" The former crown princess rolled her eyes good naturedly, and began wondering when she had picked up that trait from Kong Zĭ.

"What's happening?" asked Asano, trying to push her way into the crowd of children outside the door.

"Lady Michiko is having a baby," said Fusasaki, turning to her. She made a face and he made one back.

"Why is she screaming? Does it hurt?" asked Nasu, his ear to the door.

"Don't you remember?" said Kagechika. "Miki said that there's nothing to dull the pain. Of course it hurts!" All the children were crowded outside the room that the Brothers had blessed for the birthing, listening and a few leaving when they got too disturbed. The boys had all dared one another to stay, so only one, little Haruma Miura, left.

The women were all inside with Michiko of course, a remnant from the birthing traditions of the court, and all the men were sitting in another room, each head turning in unison as Akihito paced. And each and every group was uncomfortable. In the Kingdom, births were a social thing. Inner circles of the court attended, men and women talking as they observed the birth. Of course, then the young woman Miki became royal physician, straight from the west and full of odd ideas about childbirth. Birth in water, birth standing, and keeping observers out of the birthing room.

Now though, no one really felt like they should be defending the old ways, what with the old ways long dead and all. They had all accepted it months ago.

After four hours, the children were sitting outside, the younger ones napping, and the older ones holding the younger ones. The women inside were assuring Michiko that there was honestly one little bit left. Akihito, in the other room, had actually sat down, running his hands through his hair.

"Does it often take this long?" he asked.

"Some are born after a full day, I have heard," said Takeda. That did not encourage the former Crown Prince at all, who moaned. At the end of the moan came a knock at the door. It opened to reveal Brother Yìjìng. He was smiling broadly.

"Akihito? The birth is over." He was going to say more, but the man was out of the room before another word could be said. The monk blinked in surprise, but didn't question the man's sudden flight.

"I was told the birth was done," said Akihito, bursting into the room, the children peering in.

"And it is," agreed Miki. "You have a son." She waved him to his wife. He went to her, grinning, and disregarding her nakedness, he kissed her. Michiko was feeding the baby boy, who was a bright red. His nursemaid used to say that he and his sister were born yellow and purple, but he never quite believed her.

"What are we to name him?" Michiko looked at the baby for a long moment before saying eventually,

"Norihiko. Handsome little Norihiko." The women had all ushered their children and the children they had come to look after away, citing the couple's need for privacy among other things that they would tell them once older. Miki and Yoshiko, were allowed to stay, happy smiles on their faces as they watched the glowing couple.

It was a few minutes before Miki found that she had to interject. "If I may, I still need to bathe the child. There is wisdom is letting the mother and child have skin contact after the first instant of life, but we really need to clean him up," she said. The parents looked up, a bit startled, but handed her the baby. As she bathed the child, she could hear Yoshiko going on about how she needed a niece and how happy she was for them. Miki smiled. The woman didn't know how many times her siblings were going to push their child onto her so they could just relax. "Michiko, I have things I need to talk to you about, things we know your husband shall not be happy to hear about. They concern feeding your child."

"I just fed him though, Miki."

"Yes, but as time goes on, I'm afraid that you will come across some events which may concern you. You are free to visit me whenever these things may come up."

"Can one of these things include Yoshiko being a bad influence to my children?" queried Akihito, letting dry sarcasm leak into his tone, making his sister make a face at him. "Really? Are you not a bit too mature for that?"

"You're not one to talk, being immature mentally," quipped the Princess.

"Can we not fight in front of the baby?" sighed Michiko, rising from the water. Her husband helped her dry herself and dress in her undergarments. Or…garments as it has become. When he offered her the slip, she declined. "I wore that so that I could let Norihiko grow without constriction. I shall wear this from now on, thank you." He smiled and kissed her cheek as she took her son back.

The baby seemed to recognize his mother, and settled, falling asleep. "Sleep, my little prince," whispered Akihito, brushing his lips to his brow.

"Why won't the little prince sleep?" grumbled Akihito, not even moving. Michiko on the other hand, smiled, and got up from where they were sleeping, and picked up the baby from the small bed created by cloth, straw, and a box. Since the baby was born, they had gone through many challenges: nights with little sleep, excess milk, the thought that she suddenly didn't have enough milk, being strictly lectured on not letting the mother drink any alcohol or certain types of tea while feeding, and other such issues. But by the third week, Michiko's instincts had kicked in full force, and she knew what to do better than her husband.

Making herself comfortable, she held Norihiko close and let him begin to feed, closing her eyes and singing very softly. She had found that singing helped the baby and herself remain calm and relaxed, something that she needed to be to feed him.

On the plus side, during night feedings like that one, it also helped her husband fall asleep so he could deal with the baby while she slept during the day.

Norihiko really liked music, she realized, humming what was instrumental. The Harp Room was his favorite room, and to listen to the songs of the monks during prayer made him quiet and content. Unless gassy.

The contented snores of her husband reached her ears and she almost began to envy the man for sleep. She would be up for about an hour with the baby, so she would be tired during the day. Being a mother in this environment was hard. Had they been in court yet, she could have handed Norihiko to a nursemaid and had no problems.

The thought of that sent a burst of protectiveness through her, adjusting her hold on the baby. How could she not let herself hold the child and feel him take his meals? How could she not carry him with her through the day, passing him to Takara to let the woman smile at the baby and to coo over him with Noriko as the man who was quickly becoming her suitor smiled at them both?

Apparently, motherhood brought new facets of her character that she wasn't even aware of until that moment.

"Little prince, are you full?" she asked softly as the boy let her go, gurgling happily. "Let's just get the gas out of you and get you back to sleep, alright?" Remembering her instructions, she held the boy and bounced him until a small noise exuded from her son, indicating he was finished.

She had been wary of letting the baby sleep by himself in the bed, having been told in calm words about how babies could die with absolutely no reason in the night, especially during cold months. But after a bit, she became more comfortable with the idea, once finding what she could do to prevent death for her baby.

Laying her son down, she returned to her husband, laying beside him and quickly falling asleep. Sleep was a blessing ever more and more. Thankfully, their friends and family understood that and would take care of the baby while the couple finally slept.

"Michiko?" murmured Noriko, shaking her friend awake. "Come on, dear, wake up." When the woman did, her friend smiled. "Your husband is having a panic attack trying to deal with the Little Prince."

"Has he tried going to a crowded place? Norihiko is sociable." She sat up, blinking sleep from her eyes.

"Yes, he has. Changing his child's wrap and everything."

"Perhaps he is hungry. Very well." Standing, and still marveling at how wonderfully easy it was, Michiko followed her friend, finding her husband trying to calm the boy, and took her son from him. "Noriko woke me. Be glad I have milk." And grateful did he look. Retreating to a corner to feed her son, she watched as the others interacted.

The main courtyard had long been the socializing area, even in the time of bitter cold. How odd, she thought, that in just nine months, they had thrown all ceremony to the birds and had begun to take up archery and spears, the single easiest to craft of all weapons. Yoshiko had continued her baton dancing and swore that that little bit of tradition would remain. Thus, the need for a niece and soon.

Michiko liked her little corner, she could observe with no one watching her. She could see Noriko and Takeda among others grow closer and closer though they mourned those they lost and she could make certain the children didn't get too close to the edge where they came and went from. Her husband had been declared the leader unofficially long ago, so she took it upon herself to become the mother of the group-to protect and nurture as it were.

The dull pain from losing their home would never vanish, she knew, but if Yoshiko was any example, they could all manage the grief and perhaps move on. She had heard women whispering to their dead husbands before they went to sleep and men whispering their wives' and sisters' names almost as a prayer in the past, but now there seemed to be a future for them. Not so bright and glorious as it had been in the past-the promise of power and luxury and ruling-but it was a future, one they could happily live with. It wasn't perfect, but they could adapt.

A/N: Not happy with this one. I wrote a first version, but I lost it. So, I wrote a new version, which I'm not a huge fan of myself. Let me know what you think though. Even anonymously.

Okay, so motherhood websites are the BEST. They go into detail without making it uncomfortable, and don't spare anything. They go week by week and month by month, oh it's great for my purposes.

Also, Yìjìng was a real monk. He lived during the Tang dynasty in China and traveled to India to study Buddhism. He also shares a name with the earliest known method of Chinese fortunetelling/philosophical thinking. Yeah.

If you'd like, review. If you don't, well I'll update anyway.