"Babe, I want to ask you something. But please, you have to promise not to get mad," Acma pleaded, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck while he was polishing his rusty Shurikens.
"Heh, I know this voice. Are you buying something expensive for your lab?" he suspected, smirking as her weight clinging to his back.
Her bump had shown visibly even in her first trimester due to her tiny size. Two more months, and they would welcome their first child. She could ask him for anything, but he wanted to play with her by faking resistance as always.
"No! I only do expensive stuff in Quistis's lab. I swear," she exclaimed.
Grabbing one of her arms off his neck, he turned around and frowned.
"Shouldn't you limit contact with chemicals?"
"That's why I'm doing research on time travel, lots of physics and simulation," she snapped back, then immediately softened her voice again. "But I really need to ask you a question."
"Okay, what is it?"
"And before I say it, I want to apologize. I mean, I could ask Sean," she stammered, smiling awkwardly. "But it would feel weird if I don't ask you directly."
"Yeah...," he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Just tell me already. You're making it really weird."
"Um... sit down on that chair."
Zyma felt perplexed but followed her instruction anyway. His confusion deepened as she locked the door and placed another chair beneath the handle to block it.
"What are you doing?"
"That's to make sure you stay," she said, winking mischievously, and proceeded to lock the window.
"That's an oddly familiar procedure whenever I interrogate someone," he scoffed. "You're not planning to torture your husband, are you?"
"Aw... Don't you usually enjoy my 'torture'?" she teased. "But seriously, I have a quick question for you."
"Define 'quick?'" he asked, hoping it was not as "quick" as her cooking.
"A question with a single-word answers."
"Which is?" he sighed.
"Hee hee...," she smiled innocently, preparing for the important question. "What is your last name?"
Zyma's jaw dropped in surprise. Initially, he thought she was joking, but her awkward smile conveyed that she was genuinely seeking an answer.
He covered his face with both hands, gasping, and then ran his hands through his hair, removing his bandana in the process.
"Knowing so little about your husband, huh?"
"I'm so sorry," she said, still wearing an awkward smile. "How would I know? You never attended classes nor turned in any homework. Even your missions were marked as classified with a mere "Z"as assignee."
"Right," he scoffed. "And all these years you have never bothered to ask me. Not even when we got married. Why now?"
"I was thinking about our daughter's name and suddenly realized..."
"Seven months in and you only think of that now, career mom?"
"I'm so sorry," she grinned awkwardly. "What can I do to make up for you?"
He faked a sigh, then quickly took off his shirt to show his body full of tribal tattoos. "You owe me big time. Your lasso collection, please."
"Urgh," she winced when instinctively holding her belly. "But you promised!"
"I know what I promised!" he frowned. "A little more trust here!"
"Aye aye," she reluctantly approached him with a lasso which he snapped from her then commanded.
"Lie down on the bed!"
"What?" she rolled her eyes.
"Do you want to know your child's last name or not?"
"Ugh! What kind of dad are you?" she raised her voice.
"Come on, babe," he smiled kindly and helped her lay down.
"What are you scheming?"
In mere seconds, he tightened her arms and legs in loose knots just enough for her to stay in bed but could still roll comfortably.
"I punish you to rest tonight, no more work."
"You can't!" she yelled, trying to get rid of her own lasso.
"Oh, yes, I can!" he laughed evilly and planted quick kisses on her face showing disapproval.
"You meanie!" she winced, trying with too little effort to dodge his kisses. "Now tell me your last name already!"
"Alright," he laid down next to her. She rolled back to escape the spooning position, ready to face his eyes at the revelation.
"Yes?"
"It's..."
"I'm listening!"
"Odine."
He could tell the world stopped in front of her.
"O... Odine?"
He did not say anything in response.
"Aren't you too tall for being an Odine?"
"And too short for a Selkie like my Mom, sure."
"And shouldn't you be a scientist?"
This time, he frowned. "I'm no prodigy like you, babe. But I don't recall anyone call me a retard ever."
"Okay, okay, let me get this straight," Acma shook her head. "So your mom is a female soldier from Selkie, notorious for their cold-bloodedness and imposing physique. And your dad is from the scientifically advanced dwarf clan?"
" many strong adjectives but yeah," he scoffed.
"I'm sorry," his wife bit her lips. "How did they... How did that work?"
"Geez," he covered his eyes. "This is the first time I hope you don't talk about sex."
"No! I mean..." Acma burst into laughter. "Hyne! Why would you bring that up?"
He joined her laughter and combed her red strands of hair with his fingers.
"Love is strange, isn't it? Don't you know how many times I wake up next to you in the morning and ask myself if "us" is just a dream. Because it is too good to be true. I am so happy now. Just the thought of you makes me smile. And soon..." he caressed her bump. "I'll die for you two. Mark my words for that."
"Okay, okay, cheesy guy," she stopped his lips with her index finger. "No one has to die for anyone. It's peace time. Also, with your physical strength and Elutia's dark magic, only a fool would dare to touch me and our child."
"Well," he shrugged. "So, with my last name as inspiration, do you have any ideas for our daughter yet?"
"Of course I do!"
She grinned then gave him a name that destroyed whatever smile on his face.
"Are you okay? You don't like it?"
She stopped smiling as she noticed his rare change of reaction. He swallowed hard, then put on a smile.
"It's too beautiful. I'm surprised though. It's quite rare, isn't it? I've been to many villages, I haven't met anyone with that name."
"Right? It's unique."
"Where did you hear it?" he pressed more.
She shrugged. "I don't remember. It came to me a while ago, even before I met you. I think it'd be cool if I have a daughter, and I'II name her Artemis. Voila. Although it'd be much nicer if you show up in ultrasound, baby Artemis."
He looked at her bump, frightening. Due to high magic concentration, her uterus blocked all kind of ultrasound, not allowing the eager parents to peek. However, based on the frequent abdomen pain Acma was experiencing, along with the fact that he had horns and she had wings, this fetus would look far different from a normal human being.
And "Artemis"... was Ultimecia's real name. The Legendary SeeD gang, advised by Ellone, decided to give the media a fake name, hoping to find this Artemis in their lifetime. Had Zyma not been the CC group's Joker and Garden's shop owner, he would have not boarded the Ragnarok to the future to learn this fact. And right here, right now, his wife was telling him that their child's name would be Artemis. What was he supposed to do?
"Um, babe," Acma asked as her stomach protested. "I'm hungry. Do you mind making supper?"
Cooking. He was so up for that.
His mind filled with questions, hypotheses while his hands navigated the kitchen. The fire in the store reminded him of Ultimecia's Firaga. The lettuce leaves resembled her dark wings which he just realized had a tone average of his wife's and her twin sister's. The tomato sauce was very much like the dark witch's hands full of blood when they pierced though White SeeDs' bodies for Time Essence.
Footsteps down the stairs startled him out of frightening thoughts.
"I'm almost done, babe. Go back to bed," Zyma said, hiding any emotion.
"It's me. Are you making supper for sis again?"
"Oh... You smell… just like her," he stammered.
He had not noticed their identical smells. Even twins shouldn't be this similar given that they were separated for almost a decade. With Elutia's synthetic legs grown by her sister's trademark biomechanic cells, even their footsteps resembled. It was like they were mirror of each other, like the two halves of…
"You're sweating," Elutia said, a mini iceberg popped up from her palm instantly as she turned down the gas. "Don't let it burn."
"Right," Zyma trembled as the iceberg floated near his face. "Can you make it go away? Your sister's rule."
Elutia shrugged and the ice magic disappeared.
"Do you need help?"
"Sure. She's been into sour seaweed lately. Can you help me taste it?" Zyma requested.
Elutia went over to his side and tasted the food.
"It's too sour. A little more sugar would be great," she suggested, helping him with the seasoning. Then she noticed him gazing at her intently. "What?"
"Besides you and your sister, anyone else with burgundy eyes?" Zyma inquired.
"Burgundy?"
"Your eye color," he clarified.
"It's red."
"Whatever. Anyone else with red eyes? I don't recall anyone in the settlement I've met having red eyes," Zyma pressed.
"No, most of them have light-colored hair and black eyes. Red is a color that catches attention. It's intentional that my lineage was used to create mind control subjects like puppet masters, sorceresses, or necromancers. The red color, both in daylight and in the dark, helps draw the attention of followers, be they humans, monsters, or GF."
"Ha..."
"Impressed? It's a curse, really."
"It is. It surely is..."