Prologue: Banshees and Babies and Blood Ties, Oh My!

A prologue to set up the story.

The blood-curdling, banshee-worthy screams from the delivery room only caused the Japanese man to smile in anticipation.

 

It was happening. He was going to be a father. Again. His wife was giving birth, and though he wasn’t strong enough to stomach watching " ‘Indeed,’ he thought, ‘women are undoubtedly the strong ones.’ " he couldn’t wait for when he could be called in and witness the life he had helped to create. To cradle the child he had sired " his second-born child.

 

It struck him as odd how, despite having gone through the process once before and thinking he’d be well familiar and acquainted with the sensations, he was just as baffled and nervous as the first time. When his first child had been born, a boy they had named Kenji after an old family friend, he had thought the novelty of being a father would be worn out after a few days. Between the baby boy crying at all hours of the night and day, being a fussy eater, wailing like a banshee every time he tried to pick him up, and every attempt to change Kenji’s diaper leading to his wondering whether or not his son moonlighted as a world leader in manure manufacture, he quickly realized that baby-raising was a job the workers for whom were overworked and underpaid, not to mention underappreciated. His first taste of fatherhood had drastically raised his respect for parents whose priorities gravitated towards their children.

They lived that picture-perfect life as a happy new family for two years. Kenji had grown to become a curious and clever child. Despite his intelligence and both parents’ constant presence and affection, it was plain to see he was becoming lonely. His wife had insisted on at least one other child, so that even if they couldn’t be around Kenji, he would at least have someone. ‘When we are dead and gone,’ she had argued, ‘Kenji will need someone to hold onto. A support system. Giving him siblings will give him many blessings. No child of mine shall be alone. And it will be good for the child or children if there are more after him. Just one more lantern to light up our lives, don’t you think, Anata?’

 

He didn’t disagree, and when she called him ‘dear’ like that, he found he couldn’t refuse her. And so, it came about after two years of a small family that consisted of a father, mother and son, they began to prepare to welcome a new member to their family. It wasn’t long before his wife was pregnant, and the child was due sometime in mid-June. Kenji, once he had heard that he was to have a younger sibling, was ecstatic and began practicing his elder brotherly skills by taking care of the family cat, Aiko. She didn’t seem to be amused in the slightest.

 

Nearly nine months had passed, and with the waning of spring and breaking of summer, the man found himself at the hospital, pacing the corridor and listening to the wails of his obviously-in-agony wife, and smiling with each screech. She was a tough woman, and he knew she wouldn’t die in childbirth. If she were, he’d know.

 

“You know, Keisuke, when you said you really needed my help, I didn’t exactly think baby-sitting your kid was what you meant. If I had known, I’d have stayed home and rewatched Scream.”

 

Seated to his right, a woman of flaming red hair and soulful, brilliant green eyes looked at him balefully, painted red lips posed in a scowl. She wore an emerald, laced corset that was overlaid with a black hooded cloak with a green interior. The hood was down. A matching emerald skirt flowed from her waist, mingling with the lengthy cloak. She possessed an emerald brooch inlaid a golden exterior, wrapped elegantly around her slender neck on a black choker. She had Kenji wrapped safely in her cloak, snuggling him up to her ample bosom as he slept.

 

Keisuke chuckled. “Apologies, Siobhán-san, but you’re here for more than one reason. Baby-sitting is just the easier favour of the two to ask for. By the way, what’s Scream?”

 

“A movie that isn’t out yet,” she replied. “I got a bootleg copy recorded by an oracle when I beat her in a game of Switch.” She eyed him as if she knew the reason he called her. “Aye, I figured my skills would come in handy here.”

 

The wailing came from the delivery room again, the horrible shriek renting the air. Keisuke smiled, and Siobhán winced. “Jeez, that’s annoying. I imagine it must be even worse for you when my kind does it. Is that how all banshees sound? I might have to tell my sisters to adapt to the upcoming twenty-first century and just start texting people polite reminders when they’re about to die.” At Keisuke’s puzzled expression, she simply said, “It’s going to be big, so says that oracle.” He made a mental note not to question it.

 

“She’s been in there a long time, hasn’t she?” Keisuke mused, spotting the tell-tale glow of the sun on the horizon out the window, worry starting to grip him. Siobhán waved him off.

 

“She’s in labour. She’s not going anywhere for quite some time.” Glancing around the lobby, she noticed male and female nurses rushing about, transporting newly born babies to their incubators. “Though are you sure I should be here? It seems kind of counter-intuitive, in my opinion. A herald of death in a place of blossoming life? I can’t help but feel as though that’s the punchline to a rather bad bar joke.”

 

“Where there is life, there is death. Where there is death, there is life.” Keisuke’s smile became smaller, sadder, as his eyebrows knit together. “There will be many women who will give birth to children not alive. There will be many mothers who are mothers for mere moments. There will be many women who die and children who die. Even so, there will be children who live despite all the odds. Children born prematurely and with little chance of survival who pull through anyways. Mothers who are on the cusp of death after birth but refuse to leave their children behind. As some leave this life, others enter it. As some enter it, some leave. Life and Death are intertwined, and you’re every bit as welcome here as anyone else.”

 

Siobhán gave a grudging smile. “Oi, I do hate it when you get all philosophical on me. You and your yin and yang concepts, equivalent exchange and what not. One can only take so much of that before they want to scream.”

 

Keisuke returned her grin, her banshee joke not escaping his notice. “If anything went wrong, I’d know. Your spontaneous wailing would tip me off and I would rescue my wife and child before anything can hurt them.”

 

“Right,” Siobhán confirmed, “but I wouldn’t know when this happens. It’s purely unconscious on my part, though I do get an aura immediately before the urge hits me. It’s sort of like a supernatural, killer migraine, except the death is not mine. That said, I do know whose death is imminent when I wail. Though you’d probably barrel off to safe her before I could even tell you whose death I prophesized. As you said, this is a hospital, and as such is a breeding ground for where life and death meet. You won’t know whose death I’m seeing unless I tell you, though you and your big damn heroes complex would probably rush off before I could.”

 

 A mischievous grin from the man was all she needed to see to confirm he was as knuckle-headed as she described. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder when he could hold his wife again and his new child for the first time. “Perhaps I should beseech the help of Jizo,” he mused aloud. “Perhaps it will help ease it for her.”

 

Siobhán shook her head. “If you want a deity to pray to for this, I’d suggest Lady Hera’s girl, Eileithyia. From what I hear, she’s the best in the business. You’d be best off asking Lady Hera’s permission to send the best damn midwife you could ask for.”

 

Keisuke considered taking her advice, but before he could, yet another scream rented the air " this one caused even Siobhán to clamp her hands over her ears. “Jeez,” the banshee muttered, “quite the set of lungs on that girl.” She sounded impressed. “You’re sure she’s not part-banshee?”

 

Keisuke was spared from answering when the doctor came in, a Caucasian in his early 30’s, Reuben Montgomery. A well-respected doctor who operated out of many offices, he had come at the behest of his old friend, Keisuke Takeshi. He came in, gave Keisuke a firm handshake, and then drew him into a hug, laughing.

 

“Keisuke Takeshi! It’s been far too long. You’re lucky I love you, you b*****d. Not many people I would cut my vacation early for, so I had hope you’d appreciate this!”

 

“To have the best male obstetrician and gynecologist do me a personal favour and tend to my wife? Absolutely, I’m appreciative!” Keisuke laughed and patted his friend’s back.

 

Siobhán made a subtle coughing noise, and Reuben turned his gaze towards her. “Oh, well if it isn’t the Wailing Woman,” Reuben remarked dryly. “Are all the karaoke bars closed, then? Couldn’t find a babysitter among the living, so you stuck with the banshee, is that it, Keisuke?”

 

“Rubik’s cube,” Siobhán replied. “Nice to see you too, you irritable old geezer.”

 

“Geezer?” Reuben scoffed. “I’m barely 30, she-witch. You know very well I don’t know death and destruction in my place of work, when I’m busy trying to bring life into this world.”

 

Siobhán waved him off. “For a grown man, you’re awfully catty. You do realize death is necessary to necessitate more life? You see enough of it every day to know better.”

 

Reuben snorted. “Of course you’d mention cats. Didn’t have anything better to do, like kick black cats or break mirrors or walk under ladders?”

 

Siobhán raised a flaming eyebrow. “I look like a witch to you, do I?” Eyeing Keisuke, she added, “I wouldn’t leave my child in the care of this one. Doesn’t know the difference between a banshee and a witch, might not know the difference between a living baby and a dead one.”

 

Reuben made to retort, but Keisuke gave them both exasperated looks. “Can’t you both get along, at least until Keiko and my child are okay?”

 

The obstetrician cleared his throat. “If you listen closely, you can hear your wife’s screams have ceased, and have been replaced by the wailing of something else. That something else, Keisuke, is your son.”

 

Keisuke gasped, and collapsed backwards onto the seat beside Siobhán. He looked dazed, limbs slack as he stared forward. “Son…” he murmured faintly. “I have another son…”

 

“Aye, you’re a father for the second time around,” Siobhán grinned. “Congratulations, and all that.”

 

It felt as though every bone in his body had liquefied, and his muscles didn’t seem to respond to his commands. “You didn’t wail,” he murmured, relieved. “They’re alive and okay. They’re okay.”

 

Siobhán nudged him. “Well, go on, then. Go see your wife and your newborn leanbh. I’ll take care of Kenji here, go on.” She gave him a warm smile, rocking Kenji gently. “Tell your son that his Aintín Siobhán says hello. The doctor and I will give you three some space.”

 

“In case you wanted to know,” Reuben added, “His due date was June 12^th, but he was born six days ahead of schedule. His birth certificate will have today’s date: June 6^th, 1992. Time of birth was 6:00 AM on the dot. Birth was viewed and verified by a couple of midwives, all who shall sign the document. He appears to be healthy, with no malformed extremities or internals as far as we can tell. You’re a lucky man, Keisuke. Of course, there’s some documents you have to si"”

 

“Are you daft, man?” Siobhán snapped. “Can’t you tell he doesn’t care about your blathering? Let the man see his family. Go on, Keisuke, shoo. Go view that bright ray of sunshine.”

 

Keisuke nodded gratefully, finally finding his strength. He half-walked half-ran to the delivery room, slowing down as he came within reach of the door. Knocking, he poked his head in and peaked to see if his wife was awake. She had been gazing at the squirming boy with such tenderness and warmth, swaddled in a blue blanket. He was wailing at the top of his little lungs, and Keisuke felt immense pride and joy, striding into the room as Keiko glanced up at him with the same tender love.

 

“He’s certainly his mother’s son,” Keisuke remarked, putting on a front of cool, calm collectedness. On the inside, he was terrified and electrified and feeling so many conflicting, paradoxical sensations simultaneously. “He’s got your lungs.”

 

Keiko gave a breathy laugh. “I’d like to see you bear a child without the help of anaesthetics and try not to sound as hypersonic as Siobhán. I don’t know how she does it, my vocals feel as though they’re shredded.”

 

Keisuke leaned in and placed a hand on his wife’s head and his son’s body. “He’s so…tiny,” Keisuke marveled, watching his youngest son in wonder. “Was Kenji this small?”

 

“No, this one is definitely smaller. Kenji was seven pounds, nine ounces. This little one is four pounds, five ounces. Much smaller than his older brother.”

 

Keisuke simply caressed his son’s face tenderly, amazed at what he had helped to create. His son. This boy was his son. His youngest boy. Tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks freely. He was not ashamed. It was okay to cry. If one could not cry at this living miracle, their own flesh and blood, then Keisuke did not know what to think. He looked at his wife, who had been gazing at him, tears clouding her eyes as well. They smiled so brilliantly at each other, and Keisuke leaned in to kiss the love of his life.

 

Keiko gave him a tender peck, but winced as she leaned forward. Leaning back, she gave a great gasp, pain radiating across her features. Keisuke frowned. “Are you in pain?” he asked, fearing for his wife’s comfort.

 

“It’s nothing, Anata,” she whispered, cuddling the boy closer to her. All the while, the boy had been crying and Keiko offered him a small pacifier to sate him. “I’m simply very tired. I have a great need for sleep.”

 

“Shall I summon for Hypnos? He owes me a few favours, I could ask him to grant you dreamless sleep while you recuperate.”

 

“Perhaps later.” Keiko’s gaze turned back to the suckling child. “First, we must name him.”

 

“Any ideas?”

 

Keiko pondered, gazing into her son’s eyes as she considered. “His eyes are so dark, so deep. Though no one has black eyes, perhaps we should name him Kurome " black eye.”

 

“Too similar to the evil eye, I think,” Keisuke commented. “Perhaps Keiji?”

 

“I have a creepy cousin named Keiji. I’d rather not have people confuse them.” After a few moments more, she added, “What do you think of Kyoji? Kyo for short.”

 

“Kyoji,” Keisuke said, as though getting a feel for the name with his tongue. “Simple. Similar enough to Kenji. Can be nicknamed Kyo-kun.” He grinned. “I like it.”

 

“Our little Kyo,” Keiko murmured, brushing her lips against her baby’s forehead in a kiss. “Our bundle of joy.”

 

“Next time we have kids, we’ll think ahead for names. If it’s a boy, we’ll name him Kyosuke. If it’s a girl, how about Kyoko?”

 

“We are not having children for a while,” Keiko murmured. She stifled a yawn. “Not for a long while.”

 

Keisuke grinned. “Deal. But we’re still gonna have more.”

 

Keiko didn’t respond.

 

‘She’s tired,’ Keisuke figured. He brushed the stray hairs from her bangs to the side, planting a kiss on her forehead. He picked up Kyo from her hands, and coddled him close to his chest, bobbing and shaking him gently as he moved his arms to and fro. “Kyo, my second child, my beloved boy, welcome to the world.” It wasn’t long before Kyo was fast asleep, and Keisuke removed the pacifier. Looking at his son’s small, pink face, Keisuke murmured, “Welcome to your first night on earth.”

 

A horrible wailing shook the building, and Keisuke’s blood ran cold. No.

 

Siobhán was shrieking her banshee’s wail. That meant…it had to mean…death.

 

Instantly, Keisuke’s mind reeled towards how Keiko hadn’t responded to him. He had assumed she fell asleep " it was only logical, as childbirth was excruciating and tiring. He had brought along Siobhán to act as a warning sign so he could deter Death should it seek to claim either his wife or child. A banshee’s wail was an ominous portent of doom, and only the banshee herself knew who the soon-to-be-deceased was.

 

Keisuke rushed to his wife’s side, placing his finger under her nostrils to check for breath. He felt air, soft and slow. His wife was fine. Glancing towards his son, he saw his tiny chest rise and fall just fine.

 

A world of worry melted away from Keisuke; his family was safe. A moment later, it hit him " Kenji.

 

Instantly the man rushed into action, cursing himself for momentarily forgetting his firstborn, racing down the halls to where he had last left Kenji with Siobhán and Dr. Montgomery. The doctor was nowhere to be found, but he found Siobhán still seated, clinging the baby. She sat frozen, immobile as a vacant look in her eyes indicated she was in her banshee state. Her eyes became pure white, the emerald irises no longer visible. Her face elongated, skin turning a sickly shade of gray. She appeared more ethereal, insubstantial, but she still managed to keep a hold on Kenji. Her flowing red hair quickly turned gray, dishevelled, giving her a much older appearance, as though she were really seven hundred years old. An unearthly glow emanated from her. She was still wailing, blank eyes focused off in the distance, consumed by the visions of death, unaware of her immediate surroundings.

 

Keisuke wrestled Kenji from Siobhán’s iron grip, and made sure his boy was okay. Kenji appeared to be unharmed, though he was now crying. Slowly, Siobhán’s wailing died off, and she slowly resumed her normal, youthful and beautiful appearance. There was a single difference, however. Where joy and wit had once lit up her eyes, those concepts were now replaced by pure, unadulterated terror.

 

Keisuke cursed. What was scary enough to terrify a banshee, a harbinger of horrifying omens? “Siobhán-san! Siobhán-san! What did you see? Who is to die?”

 

“They’re already dead,” she whispered. “The midwives who helped with the birthing. They’re already dead. They were killed by scalpels slitting their throats. Blood, rivers of blood, pouring from the wound and becoming a lake on the floor…”

 

“Where’s Reuben-san? Do you know where he went?”

 

“He said he had something to attend to. That was shortly before I received the omen.”

 

“Find Reuben-san and tell him we need his help urgently. Do that and we can g"”

 

Another high-pitched wail reverberated through the hospital floor. Siobhán paled. Keisuke felt as though his blood had turned to melted snow within his veins. She hadn’t screamed.

 

Keiko had.

 

“Kuso!” He cursed, rushing back towards his wife, barely registering that Siobhán followed suit. He had been foolish to leave her alone, but he had be so fearful that Kenji was in danger and she had looked so peaceful…

 

Keisuke and Siobhán barged into the room to find Keiko in hysterics, sobbing as she clutched her stomach. There was new blood on the sheets below her, but none on her. She appeared uninjured.

 

Handing off the children to a bewildered Siobhán, Keisuke ran to his wife’s side and held her gently by the shoulders, urging her to tell him what was wrong. He kept assuring her that Kyo was fine and with him, urging her to look at Siobhán who held both the crying Kenji and sleeping Kyoji. Keiko didn’t seem to hear him. She was crying and shaking, unable to articulate herself, and it was a long time before Keisuke had managed to calm her down enough to tell him.

 

When she did, Keisuke felt the frozen snow in his veins freeze solid. His world proceeded to fell apart.

 

***

 

The curiously festive atmosphere of the Takeshi household was quickly being overtaken by impatience and appeal for the main event of the evening. The friends of the Takeshis had been on stand-by in case the couple’s child had been born early, and the time had finally come when they’d gotten notice. Friends and acquaintances of both Keisuke and Keiko had come from all over the world to visit the family in their time of joy " to be here at this new chapter of their lives was considered a great honour.

 

The guests milled about the house, introducing themselves to each other and sharing embarrassing stories about either Keisuke or Keiko. An Italian man, Raphael, was laughing as a stunning Chinese woman, Jiao Ming, translated a joke her Japanese acquaintance Kimiko was telling. Apparently, the green qipao-clad Jiao Ming was fluent in several languages. Across the room, a middle-aged Japanese man in a green kimono held a young Caucasian boy by the hand, no older than six, and was telling him the reason they had visited the Takeshis. The young boy was dressed similarly, a miniature kimono wrapped around him tightly.

 

A strikingly beautiful Japanese woman, just recently turned 30, was speaking to a short, elderly Chinese man who was accompanied by an equally short, equally-elder Japanese woman. The beautiful woman was decked out in an elegant, silky soft, green kimono that draped her form artfully. The Chinese man seemed to be rather grumpy, and he was being mocked by the old Japanese woman. He simply wore a green hanfu. The young woman, Takamura, was the one who had to keep the two elders civil towards each other. Their petty squabbles could be had another time. For now, they were to wait for the announcement of the child.

 

“The child was born in the Year of the Monkey,” the elderly Japanese woman was saying. Similar to Takamura, she was dressed in a fitted green kimono. “No doubt he’s going to be a resourceful little troublemaker. My condolences to Keisuke and Keiko’s recently deceased peace of mind. We should drink to that. I wonder where the saké is?”

 

“Have you no class?” the old Chinese man grumbled. “Saké this, saké that. You and your alcohol, I’m surprised you haven’t overdosed at this point.”

 

“Have you no concept of fun?” the old woman retorted. “Prim and proper, always too worried about other’s opinions. You need to let loose and have fun. When you’re willing to learn how, all you need to do is holler.”

 

Takamura rolled her onyx eyes. They were bickering like an old married couple again. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to find a grinning Hideo Yamaguchi, a promising lead for President of the Japan Restoration Party. A stern-looking, bespectacled family man, Hideo was a very popular subject in politics. He was known for his conservative and honour-bound declarations and promises, which he always delivered. Due to his uncompromising take on what needed to be done and his widespread appeal and influence, he was respectfully dubbed ‘The Baron’.

 

“Takamura-san!” He gave a rare smile, and shook Takamura’s hand firmly. Doing the same for the Japanese elders with her, he ushered his wife forward. She too was wearing a kimono, though it was a white one, much like her husband. “This is my wife, and the love of my life, Mameha.” His wife smiled brightly, nodded in acknowledgement. “And this,” he said, gesturing to a little girl holding Mameha’s hand, no more than four, “is my oldest daughter, Sayuri. Say hello, Sayuri.”

 

“Konnichiwa,” the young girl chirped, twirling her mini white kimono about and giggling.

 

“Anata, you mustn’t forget our dearest newborn daughter,” Mameha murmured, demure in tone. In her other hand, cradled to her bosom, was a little girl sleeping soundly in her mother’s arms.

 

“Of course, I could never,” Hideo smiled. “This, ladies and gentleman, is our wonderful daughter Hatsumomo.” He beamed with pride. “She’s a little over four months old, born ten days before her expected due date. On February 2^nd, we received one of the greatest gifts one can be given. On February 2^nd, we welcomed another little angel by the name of Hatsumomo to our family. She was named for the peaches because Mameha conceived her near the end of May, just as peach season was blooming into season.”

 

“A good choice, indeed, as her face looks like a small peach indeed,” the elderly Japanese woman said, peering up at the girl. “The Fates have a sense of humour, don’t they?”

 

Takamura gave the elderly woman a warning look, but the woman waved her off. “What point is there in being polite? It just gets in the way of being honest. I’d rather speak my mind freely than masquerade behind a façade for the sake of ‘politeness.’ Besides, I’m far too old to be polite. I can take advantage of my impending senility and run with it.”

 

Surprisingly, the iron-willed Hideo laughed. “A woman who speaks her mind, and does not apologize for who she is. A rare trait, nowadays. Intriguing, indeed.”

 

“It’s why you married me,” Mameha teased, kissing her husband on the cheek. The elderly woman tossed a glance to Takamura as if to say, ‘You see? She knows where she’s going in life.’

 

“What about you, Takamura-san?” Hideo inquired. “When do you plan to join the ranks of the married women and become a mother? When do you plan to have children? You’re getting to that ripe age, you had better work quickly before there are no men left for you.”

 

Instantly, Takamura and the elderly woman exchanged a knowing glance. The elder of the pair looked away, as though she couldn’t bear to see what had happened next. Hideo looked expectant for an answer, but Mameha seemed to notice something was amiss.

 

Before Takamura could reply, Mameha offered, “Though I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, Anata, for some men and women, there’s more to life than family and children.” Hatsumomo was awakening, and Mameha held her closer. “Perhaps Takamura-san is among their number.”

 

“Perhaps,” Takamura replied, nonchalant. “If I am to wed and bear children, perhaps it will happen when the time is right. I see no need for it at the moment.”

 

“If anything,” said Hideo, “you could always take care of our children. Should anything ever happen to us, of course. The politics game is a dangerous one, and though I wish it weren’t true, there have been known to be assassinations. However, I feel it is my duty. No one will take a stand if they do not see others doing it. In the event anything happens, I would trust my children’s lives in your care. There is no one else I would even consider.”

 

“A most generous offer,” Takamura replied smoothly, “but perhaps we should focus on your safety and your meteoric rise in the politics game. You’ll be Prime Minister of Japan in no time, at this rate.”

 

Hideo beamed. “As long as the lives of my children and family are improved. I will have those damned Yakuza thugs abolished and banished from all of Japan if I can.”

 

“Yes,” drawled a voice, “those damned Yakuza need to go.” It was the middle-aged man with the young, Caucasian boy. “We will all sleep better at night if you were in charge, Hideo-san.” To the little blond boy with striking turquoise eyes, the man said, “Come say hi, Sonic.”

 

“Haruhiko-san!” Hideo’s grin threatened to split his face in half. “You old dog! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in years! Have you met my daughter, Sayuri? And my newest one, Hatsumomo? I’ve you to thank for their births, as it was you who introduced me to this most beautiful woman I am lucky enough to call Mrs. Yamaguchi.”

 

Haruhiko waved him off. “I’ve known Mameha-chan for a long time, as I used to be friends with her mother. I even tutored her back when I taught, much like I did with Takamura-chan here. Quick and gifted, she was a talented student. Ambitious, too. Upon meeting you, my immediate thought was that the two of you would make an unstoppable power couple. And it seems this old geezer’s intuition was right, as you’re now clawing your way to power rather impressively. Don’t forget me when you’re at the top, Hideo-san!”

 

“I could never!” The man shook his head. “I never forget my debts.”

 

Haruhiko looked over his glasses towards the elderly man and woman, and greeted Takamura amicably. “You seem to be doing well for yourself,” he mused, appraising her with pride. “Last time I saw you, your circumstances were dire. The Fates must have been smiling down on you, and sent you this one here for guidance.” He gestured to the elderly Japanese woman, who in the meantime had managed to locate some alcoholic beverages.

 

Swallowing after having drained the cup of its liquor, the elderly woman wiped the back of her mouth with her hand and grinned. “I like to think the Jade Emperor spent a little more time on me.”

 

“Yes, to make you more annoying,” the short, elderly Japanese man murmured, but he got elbowed by her.

 

Before they could continue bickering, the door to the master bedroom opened, and a red-headed woman, Siobhán, came gliding down the stairs towards them. She still wore her green corset and black cloak, her emerald heels tapping rhythmically against the steps. Her fiery red hair billowed behind her majestically, as did her cloak, and she approached them with intense green eyes that radiated warmth.

 

“Aye, you’re all here. This group here gets special privileges, in that they get to see the little leanbh first. Come along, now.”

 

With a turn of her heel and a swish of her cloak, she led them up the stairs, and into the master bedroom. Kenji was lifted up by his father Keisuke, leaning over the side and looking at Kyo, who was held by his mother. Though she was smiling, there was a hint of sadness to it, something echoed in her eyes as well as her husband’s. Kenji, for his part, stared at his little brother in wonder and reached forward to touch his face, as though trying to make sure he was corporeal.

 

The group of ten made their way forward, crowding around the bed for a better look. In the room, thirteen pairs of eyes young and old alike, all focused upon the sleeping boy in his mother’s arms. He had a smattering of dark, messy hair already and he was only a few days old. Kenji was playing with his brother’s hair, remarking how weird it was to see a baby with so much hair already. Sayuri looked to Sonic, who looked back " both seemed unsure of how to feel, watching something so small and fragile. Sayuri took Sonic’s hand and led him to the other side of the bed, closer to the baby " they seemed to find comfort in the buddy system, two kids in a room full of adults.

 

“He’s so small,” Sonic whispered, as though afraid the boy would wake up.

 

“And he’s so red,” Sayuri added. “Mother, why is he so red?”

 

“He’s a new baby, Sayuri,” Mameha replied. “Even you looked like that when you were born.”

 

The girl stuck her tongue out, as if disgusted by the idea she could’ve looked like that. Sonic giggled, and Sayuri found herself giggling along too.

 

“They’re not wrong,” the elderly woman remarked. “His face is small and circular like an apricot, not to mention ruddy. I wouldn’t be half surprised if you named him Kyo.” Upon seeing the husband and wife exchange knowing smiles, she added, “Dear God, you didn’t. This boy is going to be bullied, and his parents have already started.”

 

“He’s beautiful,” Mameha said, warm eyes fastened upon Kyo’s sleeping ones.

 

“He’s going to be a heart-breaker, this one,” Siobhán agreed.

 

“A strong jaw,” Hideo approved.

 

Jiao Ming, the Chinese woman from before, entered the room with quiet clacks of her green high-heeled pumps. “Have I been missing all the fun?” Jade eyes cast themselves upon Kyo’s slumbering form. “He’s got his father’s face, but his mother’s beauty, if the attention of all these people is anything to judge by.”

 

Mameha nodded. “Perhaps we should have him and Hatsumomo become playmates. It is important young children have friends. The greatest gift we can give them, aside from siblings, are childhood friends with which to share their life. To have someone with them from the very start, before they even remember, is a gift given to few. I say, with the permission of the parents, we bestow it upon our children.”

 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Keiko answered. Her voice seemed to waver for a moment, before returning to normal. “Maybe even have Kenji and Sayuri become playmates as well.”

 

“Why not kick it up a notch? We’re family friends, but why not become family? Perhaps we should unify our clans through the marriage of Kenji and Sayuri, and furthermore by Kyo and Hatsumomo. Would that not be grand?”

 

At the mention of their names, both Sayuri and Kenji looked at each other for the first time, and simultaneously made faces as though perturbed by the idea. Sonic stifled laughter, and all the adults in the room laughed at the children’s reactions. The loud noises woke Kyo, who wailed until his mother presented him with a pacifier that he greedily sucked on.

 

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Keisuke confessed about the idea of arranged marriages. “I’d rather my sons have the chance to select their own mates. If Sayuri and Hatsumomo happen to be them, so be it. I’d be very pleased with that. But I think it’s important that they ultimately choose who they spend their lives with, and I will stand by their decision whole-heartedly, 100%.”

 

“I also feel the same way about our daughters,” Mameha added. “In a world were so little is in our power, it would be cruel to deny them the chance to pick their own loves. After all, it is their life they’re living, not ours. Perhaps we shouldn’t raise them the way we were, for they were born for a different time. Just a thought, Anata.”

 

When Keiko voiced her agreement as well, Hideo seemed to take this into consideration. “Very well,” he agreed, “they may choose themselves. But if they’re not married by the time they’re 30, we are pairing the spares!”

 

Hatsumomo seemed to be staring very intently at Kyo, her small eyes trained upon the boy. Likewise, Kyo’s attention seemed to be focused back at the young girl looming before him, watching her as though she were the only thing he could make sense of. Did he instinctively recognize that she was like him? Foreign to this bright, noisy world and trying to make sense of it?

 

The baby boy Kyo managed to spit out his pacifier, and a tinkling, joyous sound came from his mouth. The little kids recognized it as laughter, and were equally shocked when Hatsumomo’s pacifier hit the ground and she was found to be laughing gleefully as well.

 

“They like each other,” Jiao Ming noted. “Perhaps Yue-Lao has linked these two together.”

 

The banshee, Siobhán, ruffled the hair of Sayuri and Sonic, both of whom stood before her. “It’s getting late. Shall we get these youngin settled in for the night?”

 

Keisuke nodded. “Thank you, Siobhán-san. Everyone is welcome to stay the night. There is more than enough space for everyone. Please, consider the offer. Family can be determined by more than just blood. It is about the bonds made. You are all our family, and we thank you for being with us in this precious moment in our lives.”

 

Jiao Ming offered to show the guests to their rooms, as she knew the household very well. No sooner than the guests left did Keiko break down into sobs, unable to hold back her tears behind a cheerful façade. Siobhán scooped Kenji out of Keisuke’s arms, freeing him to tend to his wife. Much like his mother, Kyo began to cry, instinctively upset when his mother was as well.

 

“Sssh, my love, sssh, my boy,” he whispered to them both, wiping away their tears, “I will take care of this. I will fix what has been wronged, and I will restore happiness to this family once more. Do not fret, my dear, for I shall take care of it as I trust you will take care of yourself and our dear boys Kenji and Kyo. Do not cry, Anata. Please, do not cry, for my sake. When you cry, it makes me want to cry, and I don’t like crying. Please spare your tears. Sssh, sssh, it’s alright. We’ll get through this.”

 

Siobhán held onto Kenji tightly as he his tears began to stream down his cheeks too, and she couldn’t help but feel her own start to flow as well. 

Reviews

[Nusquam Esse]

I'll keep this brief, since I am a bit short on time as of late. I read a few chapters here, and your story writing is solid. I would say that you are not yet at a publishable level, but you are well on your way. At this point, you just need experience. So far, this is pretty polished, and as long as you keep writing, you should be able to improve! The details are good for this sort of writing. My only caution here, is avoid writing too much from a foreign perspective. I have lived in Japan, and even I avoid writing too extensively about it, because it is not something I know as well. Not to mention, since I write primarily in English, the use of too much foreign terminology will isolate many readers. I also caution you on the Japanese names. While Kurome does indeed mean Black-Eye, realize that kanji can have multiple different meanings. While something may make logical sense when translated, it doesn't mean that someone 'hearing' the name would think much of it. Kurome would make an awkward name, because it is the name of a common type of kombu, a type of edible seaweed. While on paper it may seem to make sense, people would be squinting at it spoken aloud. Furthermore, the Japanese don't necessarily say that much in a name. Ex. Hitomi is a popular name, technically unisex, but primarily for women. It means simply 'Eyes'. The reason being is that they would simply name someone this if their eyes stood out, rather than trying to describe the specific hue. With names, it is not just about meaning, but about the feeling that the name gives; and many names will use kanjis for a concept which are not the most commonly used one. Ex. 秀樹 (Hideki - Esteemed Tree) uses a kanji which is rarely used. If you used the commonly used kanji for tree, the name would seem retarded. The point is, Asian languages are complex, ESPECIALLY NAMES. Either get someone who can give you a NATURAL name (ask them what they would name a child with unusual black eyes that stood out), or stick to common names. Next, be wary of honorifics. Don't just learn about the uses of the different forms, but also when honorifics would not be used. If a person is interacting a lot with foreigners, they won't be using honorifics. Likewise, they will not be using it with people close to them, or those they hold no respect for. Hope this helps...

[Sharmake Abdi Bouraleh]

Thank you very much for this review. It was very constructive and I very much appreciated it. It's true, I'm also thinking of it from a Western perspective, so that's something I have to watch out for. If this is brief, I'd genuinely love to see what you'd have to say when you have more time, as I thoroughly enjoy all the intricacies and ideas that my writing causes other people to imagine. Again, thank you!

[Kiara Auddino]

Looks like you have a great piece of writing underway. Good luck :)

[Sharmake Abdi Bouraleh]

My first, impartial review from someone who isn't a friend (yet). :) Thank you!