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“Mrs. Tsukino, there’s a call for you.”
Ikuko pursed her lips. She had been expecting something like this. With far less grace and dexterity than she’d had three months ago, she arose from her chair and headed to the reception desk. The receptionist nonchalantly handed over the receiver before returning to her mountain of paperwork.
“Hello Kenji,” Ikuko said automatically with barely restrained frustration.
“Hello dear,” Kenji replied tentatively. “Um…I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
At that moment, between her mane of bushy purple hair and the murderous expression upon her face, Ikuko resembled a rather annoyed lion.
“Let me guess. The office needed someone to cover the Democratic Liberal Party, right?”
“Honey, please…”
“This is the third time you’ve done this, Kenji,” Ikuko hissed. “You don’t have to volunteer for every measly assignment, you know.”
“I know, but…”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might need you here more than ‘Times in Tokyo’ needs you there? ”
“Ikuko, how could you…”
“No, how could you, Kenji? I’ll see you at home. Hopefully sometime this week .” Ikuko practically stabbed her finger into the cradle to hang up the phone.
With that, she stomped back over to her seat and rested her impained and swollen feet. A tiny part of her wondered if she was being too harsh on her husband, no doubt due to how tired she was feeling these days. A much larger part, located around her aching back, insisted Kenji was lucky she didn’t want to embarrass herself in public. After all, she’d be doing quite enough of that later, no thanks to him.
As she silently fumed in her chair, impatient for the lamaze class to start, she noted with irritation that the automatic doors had opened, letting in a chilly breeze. Following the breeze was a young couple standing close to one another, an almost tangible electricity between them as they approached the reception desk. Both had brown hair, though the man’s was darker than the woman’s, whose own locks were more reddish brown and tied in a thick braid. It vaguely reminded Ikuko of the American redwood trees she’d seen magazine pictures of.
“Hello there,” said the man with a smile bright enough to light up the room.
“Good afternoon!” added the woman, an almost sing-song quality to her voice.
“How can I help you?” the receptionist said, with barely disguised weariness. The couple clearly hadn’t noticed.
“Oh, well, you see we recently got some news,” began the man.
“Some very good news,” interjected the woman.
“ Supremely good news,” added the man, almost giddy with excitement. Automatically, the woman’s hands moved to her belly and she shot an utterly electric smile at the man.
Watching the couple, Ikuko was suddenly transported back six months ago, when she had first held Kenji’s hands to her own belly and told him her own good news. It had all seemed so very simple back then. Back when she hadn’t noticed the quiver of fear in his eyes.
“We were wondering if we could sign up for some lamaze classes?” Asked the woman in that same sing-song voice.
“It isn’t advisable for you to attend any childbirth classes until at least your second trimester,” the receptionist replied lethargically.
“Whoopsie,” the woman giggled. “Looks like we’re three months too early.”
“Yeah, our baby isn’t due until December. So we should come back around June?”
Ikuko felt a twinge in her belly. Her own baby was due in June.
“Oh, but we’d have moved by then, right honey?”
The man nodded, his face still cracked in a giddy smile.
“Then I’d suggest looking at lamaze classes in whatever your new local area will be.”
“You got it. Thanks for all your help.” With a wave, the man bid goodbye to the receptionist and ushered his wife towards the door.
Just before they exited the clinic, the woman’s hand brushed Ikuko’s arm, a burst of static passing between them.
“Sorry!” Apologised the woman as she exited out of sight.
Ikuko’s gaze lingered after them for a moment before the receptionist announced that the lamaze class was ready to begin.
With a huff, Ikuko got to her feet and shuffled into the classroom, hardly failing to notice she was the only unaccompanied woman amongst the group. However, as she stared around, she noticed something else too. There were noticeably more people than usual, and the instructor was nowhere to be found.
“Um…Good evening everyone. I’m Keiko Tomoe. Your usual instructor is unwell so I am afraid we’ve had to reschedule a few things. Hence you have me today and why you’ve no doubt noticed all the new faces. So, unless anyone has any questions shall we begin?”
A bespectacled man with a short, finely trimmed moustache raised his hand up. “You are very young, Miss Tomoe. Have you actually had any children yourself?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as complete silence fell.
Despite herself, Ikuko tried getting a look at the man’s wife, but found her line of sight obscured.
“I have not, sir. But I am board certified.” For an instant, her kind features turned cold. “And, for what it is worth, my husband is a highly respected biochemist.” From the corner of her eye, Ikuko noticed the woman next to her cock an eyebrow. “Rest assured, I know enough to get you through this class.” The man with the moustache remained stone faced and utterly silent.
Half an hour later however, the room was anything but silent. Along with the rest of the women, Ikuko was lying on a floor mat with her legs spread.
“Remember Mommies, deep, deep breaths through your mouth or nose and keep up that rhythm!”
Ikuko gritted her teeth and tried to not die of embarrassment.
“Good job, Daddies! Remember to keep Mommies focused on you.” Whilst Ikuko’s focus was indeed on Kenji, she doubted it was what the instructor had in mind.
A wave of lethargy washed over her and Ikuko gave up on the exercises altogether, bracing herself for the instructor’s inevitable reprimand. However, to both her surprise and relief, the reprimand never came. Daring to lean up a little, Ikuko quickly deduced that the instructor was evidently too busy to have noticed her. No matter how qualified or unqualified this woman was, managing a class this size evidently wasn’t easy.
Unable to proceed with the exercise, but unwilling to get up, Ikuko instead lay back down and allowed herself to be consumed by the ambient noise of the room. Through the cacophony of huffing and puffing though, she picked up snatches of conversation.
“Remember to breathe…Dear.” The last word had an almost ‘tacked on’ quality to it.
“Yes, Takashi. I will remember to breathe.” The woman’s voice was cold. Almost mechanical.
Once again leaning up, Ikuko traced the voices to the moustachioed man and his wife, though, for the second time, she failed to catch sight of the latter.
“Why do we have to come here again?” The new voice was far closer to Ikuko, just one mat over.
“So we can learn how to give birth to our child?”
Ikuko remained still, not wishing to give away that she was eavesdropping.
“I know that, Saeko. But you’re a doctor for goodness sake. Your IQ is off the charts. Surely with all the hours you put in you’re already self-sufficient in this stuff?”
“ You already know what a lake looks like, so surely you’re self-sufficient enough to paint it from memory?”
“That’s not the same thing!”
“Oh, just get me some water, okay!? And preferably don’t go all the way to the lake for it.”
Ikuko began feigning some of the breathing exercises until a full minute after the man had returned. Only then did she dare to fully lie back down and steal a glance at the couple. The woman had incredibly dark blue hair, whilst the man’s face was obscured by a hat and sunglasses. This struck Ikuko as bizarre until she remembered this man fancied himself an ‘artist’.
At long last, the class was over and all the parents piled out the room, back into the clinic’s hallway, and finally through the automatic doors to the outside. Although Ikuko was far from the most heavily pregnant woman there, she moved slowly, as if her limbs were weighing down. As such, by the time she reached the reception area, everyone else, including the instructor, had already exited the clinic. Noticing however that some people were still gathered outside, she consciously moved slower, unwilling to endure further embarrassment when her classmates no doubt realised nobody was even coming to pick…her…up?
Relief and rage crashed together within her when she spotted the man at the reception desk. Tall. Dark haired. And with thick rimmed glasses. He might have been inexcusably late, but at least Kenji could spare her a ‘walk of shame’. She sped up, ignoring the gnawing ache in her back and ankles.
“Do you have any information about lamaze classes? My wife is approaching her second trimester.”
The pain she had been ignoring suddenly flooded back. This man was not Kenji. He merely resembled him somewhat.
Tired and impained, Ikuko no longer gave a damn about embarrassing herself, waddling her way over to the automatic doors and exiting outside. To her mild relief, most of the class had already dispersed. To her much greater relief, there was a free space on the bench outside the clinic. Her ankles really were killing her.
She took a seat within sight of a bus stop and leaned forwards, trying to spot if anything was pulling up, though she knew her own bus wouldn’t be here for a little while. She spotted a few people waiting beneath the bus stop canopy, though her attention swiftly drifted over to the doctor and ‘the artist’ stood behind the crowd. A bus appeared around the corner, but neither Ikuko nor the other couple moved, the doctor continuing to gulp down a hefty bottle of water. Ikuko couldn’t help but notice the ‘artist’ had his arms folded and was tapping his foot. And, despite the hat and sunglasses, there was no mistake that he was glaring at his wife, who continued to take her time with her drink.
From around the corner another man appeared, wearing round, almost coke-bottle spectacles. The left lens caught the sun, turning it momentarily as blank and white as the hair on the man’s head. Ikuko wondered if he was older than he looked or was simply a very fine blond. To her surprise, the class instructor followed him around the corner and linked arms with him.
“How was work?” She asked, raising her voice over the sound of the bus.
“Kaori and I made some real progress today.”
“That’s wonderful!” Even from this distance, Ikuko couldn’t mistake just how dilated the instructor’s eyes were. For the second time in so many hours, she was reminded of happier times in her own life.
“Of course, we’d make a lot more progress if we could bend a guideline or two.”
As the couple passed by the ‘artist’ and the doctor, Ikuko noted how the latter had momentarily stopped drinking, and her gaze was following the instructor’s husband as he walked beyond her.
“Impatience breeds accidents, Souichi.”
“You’re right, Keiko. I shouldn’t be in such a rush to change the world.”
“Or blow it up,” Keiko chuckled.
The pair laughed and, despite herself, Ikuko, like the doctor, looked after them, watching as they faded from sight.
“I remember being like that.”
With a startle, Ikuko whipped her head back around to find a woman with similarly bushy hair to herself, not to mention a baby bump, taking a seat next to her. She was a little older than Ikuko and clearly a lot more tired.
“Though I shouldn’t complain. At least I’m not that poor soul over there,” the stranger bobbed her head slightly in the direction of the bus stop.
Although Ikuko hadn’t exactly refrained from being nosey today, she felt uneasy doing so with this total stranger. Nevertheless, she still looked.
Standing alone beneath the bus stop canopy were the man with the moustache accompanied by his wife, and this time Ikuko could see her quite clearly. She was heavily pregnant, and Ikuko guessed she must be nearing her due date. She wore a simple, loose and elegant white dress that miraculously didn’t seem to have a spot of grime on it at all. Her features were not dissimilar to the instructors. Except her eyes were an even more vivid shade of violet, and her raven hair longer and shinier.
In Ikuko’s humble opinion, she was perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
“Would you mind not smoking? It isn’t very good for the baby.”
The man with the moustache paused for a moment, the lit flame almost at the tip of his cigarette. He remained frozen for a second longer than would have been natural, his cold eyes fixed upon his wife and giving nothing away.
“Of course…dear.” He extinguished the flame a little more abruptly than would have been necessary.
“Thank you, Takashi,” said the woman, casting her gaze down.
“You are welcome, Risa.” With mechanical precision, the man, Takashi, replaced his cigarette in his jacket. “Perhaps, given the circumstances of today’s class, you might reconsider having a private one-on-one instructor at home? Or at least, permit us to take the car rather than the bus.”
“I prefer to come here,” the woman, Risa, replied simply. “And besides, the two of us coming here, on the bus, together , gives voters the chance to see how humble and in touch you are. Doesn’t it?”
Takashi’s face remained completely unchanged. “How…astute of you, Risa. Whatever would I do without you.”
It was then a bus finally pulled up to the curb. Takashi boarded first, Risa mechanically following behind him, her face still downcast, her arms still around her belly.
It was one of the single saddest things Ikuko had ever seen.
“You don’t need to be psychic to tell the flame has gone out between those two.”
Ikuko turned her attention to the gossiping woman next to her, unsure of what to make of the stranger.
“Are…you here alone too?” She finally said, feeling silence would be too awkward.
“If only.” Ikuko was taken aback. It clearly showed on her face because the woman hastily continued. “What I mean is, my husband is here with me but I told him he didn’t need to tag along. I’m just here on ‘reconnaissance,’ you know?” She patted the minor bump around her stomach. “Almost into my second trimester.”
Understanding dawned on Ikuko; but only partially. “What’s the problem with your husband coming with you?”
“Because he’s skipping out on the overtime pay at the office, that’s why.” There was a clear bite in the woman’s voice, though it was obviously not aimed at Ikuko herself.
“Still, it’s nice that he cares enough to come,” Ikuko said somewhat tentatively.
“Sure,” shrugged the stranger, “but a little financial security would be nicer for me and his kid, you know?”
Ikuko gave a polite and conceding nod before starting to slowly turn away in what she hoped wasn’t an awkward manner.
“Oh, hey look, don’t get me wrong, I love him to death.” The stranger had leaned in slightly towards Ikuko, clearly aware she hadn’t given the best impression of herself or her husband. “I just worry about the future, especially now I’m hardly getting any sl-” the woman was cut off by a pronounced yawn.
“I can definitely understand that,” Ikuko said sympathetically. “I think all of us worry about the future once we get ‘the good news.’ At the moment, I’m just trying to get through the next three months. Back of my mind, I just hope my baby gets a good education.”
“I’m the same,” said the stranger. “I really regret slacking off in school. Too busy falling in love and dreaming of becoming an idol,” she said with a laugh. Ikuko chuckled along with her.
“Hey honey, shall we get going?”
Ikuko looked up and found the Kenji lookalike approaching the bench.
“Yeah, alright,” replied the gossiping woman, her husband helping her up before she waved goodbye to Ikuko. As with the instructor and her husband, Ikuko couldn’t help but eavesdrop as they walked away. “So, what’d they say?”
“They advised going somewhere more local,” said the stranger’s husband.
“You missed overtime to learn that? I missed the volleyball game to learn that!?”
Ikuko chuckled again as the voices of the bickering couple dwindled into the distance.
“I hope that bodes well for your mood. And for me .”
Immediately Ikuko cut herself off. She kept her features composed and unreadable as she turned around very slowly to find the all too real Kenji standing next to the bench.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he said simply.
Ikuko ran the scenarios through her head.
Scenario A: she could give him the silent treatment. No doubt he’d ask to sit down which she’d neither permit nor deny. Then his long list of justifications would follow, getting repeated well into the next three days or so.
Alternatively, there was scenario B…
“It’s alright,” she said with a sigh.
“It…It is?” Kenji said in disbelief.
Ikuko gave a diplomatic shrug. “I’m not telling you to make a habit of it. But…I know you wanted to be here.”
“Of course I did!” Kenji sat next to Ikuko, taking her hand in his. “Honey, the only reason I wasn’t here for you today is because I wanted to take care of you tomorrow. Take care of both of you.”
“I know,” Ikuko replied softly, bringing both their hands to rest on her belly.
They remained on the bench together for a while longer, not caring that their bus had come and gone already.
Resting her head on Kenji’s shoulder, Ikuko spied a couple across the street, rolling along a little boy of about two or three in a stroller. The boy was eagerly looking around, the motion whipping his jet black hair back and forth. Eventually, his sapphire eyes spotted Ikuko and Kenji and gave them a tiny wave. Ikuko returned the gesture and threw him a warm smile.
“That’ll be us someday,” said Kenji.
“What makes you think it’ll be a boy?” teased Ikuko.
“Well, if it isn’t, we could always have another one. You know I want one of each.”
Ikuko rolled her eyes. “Patience, dear. We aren’t rabbits, you know.”