The kitchen basked in the morning sunlight. Shiori was setting the table for breakfast, moving with quiet efficiency. On one of the empty chairs sat Sora, a teddy bear Yuzuru had given her. Its soft, worn fur seemed to radiate a sense of warmth in the otherwise quiet room.
Yuzuru walked in, a faint smile lighting up his face. Without a word, he moved to the chair beside Sora, gently lifting the bear and placing it in the middle of the table, right between him and Shiori, as if Sora was more than just a toy-perhaps a part of their little world.
Shiori glanced at him, her brows knitting slightly in confusion.
"Why are you moving Sora to the middle? Isn't that supposed to be... our spot?" she asked, her tone curious but not harsh.
Yuzuru settled into the chair beside Sora, his eyes meeting hers with a soft, almost playful glint.
"I just want to be a caring father... and husband," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "Even if Sora's just a teddy bear, I want it to feel like we're a real family. It might seem silly, but I want to imagine we actually have... a child."
Shiori froze for a moment, his words catching her off guard. Yuzuru wasn't usually one to let his emotions show, especially not with such candid sincerity. But as she looked at him, sitting there with the bear between them, she saw a kind of earnestness in his eyes that made her heart soften. Slowly, a smile crept onto her lips.
"A child, huh?" she teased lightly. "Sora, the teddy bear who doesn't move or talk? Some kid we've got."
Yuzuru chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair, his tone suddenly playful.
"Why not? At least Sora won't argue with me when I try to teach them how to eat properly."
Shiori laughed, shaking her head as she sat down across from him. It was strange, yes, but there was something comforting about the scene. The three of them-if Sora could count-seated at the table, enjoying a breakfast that felt, for the first time in a while, like a moment of shared peace.
As they ate, Shiori glanced at Yuzuru, her expression growing more contemplative.
"You're always like this," she said softly. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're trying to fix everything... even though we've never really had 'everything' like other couples do."
Yuzuru paused, her words hanging in the air between them. His gaze locked onto hers, his face calm yet tinged with something deeper. After a moment, he gave a small nod, his smile both wistful and sincere.
"I'm just trying," he said quietly. "We might not have much right now... but I want to make it meaningful. For us."
Shiori didn't respond immediately. Instead, her eyes lingered on him, taking in the weight of his words. Then, without realizing it, a gentle smile spread across her face.
In that fragile, fleeting moment, they both felt a rare and profound stillness. Life was far from perfect, but for now, it didn't matter. Here, at this table, with a simple breakfast and a teddy bear as their imagined child, they found a sense of calm-a sliver of happiness amid the chaos.
---
The small restaurant buzzed faintly with the chatter of lunchtime patrons, but the table by the window remained relatively quiet. Yuzuru sat across from Kenta, their meal nearing its end. Sunlight filtered through the glass, casting soft patterns on their table. Kenta finished the last bite of his lunch, then glanced at Yuzuru with a knowing smile.
"Hey," Kenta began, his tone light but carrying a hint of reminder, "have you called Shiori yet? Don't forget to remind her about the charity event tonight. That's a big deal for your family."
Yuzuru froze for a moment, his chopsticks lingering in his hand. A flash of realization crossed his face. He had almost forgotten. With a slow nod, he set his utensils down and reached for his phone.
"You're right," he admitted, his voice calm but tinged with unease. "I almost forgot. I'll call her now."
He stared at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over Shiori's name in his contact list. Something about the simple act of calling her felt heavier than it should. Kenta noticed the hesitation, his perceptive eyes narrowing slightly before a small, reassuring grin spread across his face.
"Don't take it so seriously, Yuzuru," Kenta teased lightly. "She's your wife, not your enemy. This event is important for your family, sure, but maybe it's also a chance for you two to spend some time together. Think of it that way."
Yuzuru let out a quiet sigh, nodding again as if trying to internalize Kenta's words. He inhaled deeply, steeling himself, and finally pressed the call button. The phone rang in his ear, and he felt an inexplicable knot tighten in his chest. Kenta leaned back in his chair, observing him with an easygoing smile, silently offering moral support.
As Yuzuru waited for Shiori to answer, the sounds of the restaurant faded into the background. Kenta's steady presence across the table was a comforting reminder that he wasn't entirely alone in navigating the complexities of his marriage.
Hospital
The waiting room in the maternity clinic was quiet, filled with the soft murmurs of conversations and the occasional sound of footsteps. Shiori sat beside Miyu, her hands clasped in her lap as they waited for their turn. Around them, a few expectant mothers chatted softly, their glowing faces a stark contrast to Shiori's pensive expression.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp vibration of her phone. She glanced at the screen, her brows lifting slightly in surprise as she saw Yuzuru's name. Taking a steadying breath, she swiped to answer the call.
"Yuzuru?" she said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.
"Yes, Shiori," his tone was formal, almost distant. "I just wanted to remind you about the family charity event tonight. You remember, don't you?"
Shiori paused for a moment, nodding instinctively even though he couldn't see her. Beside her, Miyu cast a curious glance, her lips curling into a knowing smile.
"Yes," Shiori replied calmly. "I remember. Thanks for reminding me."
There was a brief silence on the line, the kind that felt heavier than it should. Shiori waited, sensing that Yuzuru had more to say but was hesitating. Her heart fluttered slightly, a mix of hope and anxiety that she quickly tried to suppress.
"Alright," he said finally, his voice softening just slightly. "I'll see you there tonight."
Shiori nodded again, the automatic gesture providing a small comfort to her unease. "Okay. See you tonight," she said before ending the call.
Lowering the phone, Shiori exhaled quietly, her emotions a tangled mess she couldn't quite sort through. Miyu watched her closely, her gentle smile never wavering. Reaching out, she took Shiori's hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"You and Yuzuru..." Miyu began softly, her voice warm and understanding. "It seems like you're going through something right now. But maybe tonight's event can be a chance for you two to reconnect."
Shiori offered a faint smile, not ready to delve into the complexities of her relationship. Instead, she shifted her gaze toward the examination room doors, trying to refocus on the reason they were there. Still, her thoughts kept drifting back to Yuzuru, the weight of their distant yet significant conversation lingering in her mind.