*
Hikaru
The baby was like a bomb upon the paper white of their existence; lives that had been picked apart and torn to shreds. The family of eight, now nine, once ran on plans. Multiple, multiple pre-discussed plans.
Hikaru adored those plans because they provided a sense of transparency that their family so desperately needed. There were plans for food, chores, work, life and sex; and those plans allowed for the meticulous perfection of their work-life balance—previously an iron bowl, but now a glass cup hovering upon a tightrope of stress.
The baby was poorly timed; the necessary fourteen-hour long rehearsals were now cut into bits for the child. And with the swap of each group from stage to rented home, from idols to fathers; exhaustion flooded their bodies and clouded their minds with the need for sleep.
There was no time to think about anything, only more time to work.
Nonetheless, with an equivalent comparison from their pre-debut days, the situation wasn't too daunting to the seven. It was even easier to sweep their minds into a robotic work mode, banish the complaints that thickened in their throats and sink into the arms of fortitude.
They had to be strong for their younger soulmate who was broken from the upheaval of her life.
Tag teams were created when Amber's mother sprained her back just hours before her flight, and the nanny that they'd flippantly assumed would be easy to hire became an impossible task for one of their status and needs.
Who would have known that a good postpartum doula had to be booked a whole year before the child was born?
But that was fine, because takeout was available, and hired cleaners could vanquish dirt if necessary. The men had taken baby classes and they seemed to have learnt enough from the nurses who had at least armed them with a plethora of information. Theoretically, their family had more than enough people to care for one tiny little baby.
That was, if they didn't have the tour haunting their bodies like a ghost waiting to take them under.
I can't do it alone! Amber had said in his arms; her skin was so pale that it frightened him. I can't do this without all of you. I will pass out from exhaustion; I could drop the child—W-what do I do if I drop her?
The unshed tears stood out like a beacon in the dark and pain had pierced him straight through the soul. But all Hikaru could do was hold her close and whisper promises that they would do everything in their power to make things easier for her. His angel had withered and clung to him until she had to let him go.
Rumiko Isabelle Pei was a baby that did not like to sleep, and loved to scream.
She melted his heart with her size—little fingers and toes, tiny ears and nose, a fragile body that he cradled close to his heart. She had the darkest of eyes—whirlpools of pure wonder—and the sweetest smile—beautiful gurgles that made his chest warm and tight. Hikaru was in love the moment he laid his eyes on her.
How could he not love the baby that was the fruit of their love? The final piece of their family?
But she seemed to detest everything, even sleep. And God did those words seem to indicate that he hated Rumi just because she didn't yield to his wants. But Hikaru swore that his little baby could just be a tad of a psychopath; and a born singer because of how loud she could screech with her tiny little lungs, yelling for hours on end without wearing herself out.
Could a baby refuse sleep? Hikaru had no idea. But she seemed to be born a princess with a pea lodged in her back. And as much as Hikaru loved her dearly; her gurgles were adorable when he rubbed his nose on her cheeks and kissed her belly. She was a dreadfully fussy girl that needed everything to be perfect.
She cried too much, refused to be put down, and the only person with magical hands that could get her to settle was JieMi. JieMi, who was ridiculously smug about that fact. He loved the idea of being a baby whisperer and he relished the uncontested truth that their daughter seemed to enjoy his arms more than the others.
The fact was JieMi bounced two times more than everyone else and was thus a more effective, machine-like, baby rocker than the rest of the family. He was also armed with well-set muscles that when unused could be a flawless bed of impeccable softness for their daughter.
But despite everything they'd done to reduce the burden upon Amber's shoulders: the chores, the cooking, the massages, the attempts to take the baby out of her hands whenever they could. A dreadful exhaustion clung to Amber's bones, quickly stripping her off the healthy weight she once had.
She'd grown so much quieter from the weariness; all that left her mouth were clipped words about the baby and the baby only. They barely heard her speak of anything else aside from the things they had to do for Rumi, and the things she had to do for Rumi.
She seemed like a zombie; one that oozed around the temporary house with Rumi attached to her nipples; bawling with anger at her mother for everything. And it pained him when the relief flooded her face whenever they took the freshly fed baby from her arms so that she could escape to the furthest end of the house, away from her piercing shrieks.
So much guilty happiness would ripple through her when Hikaru tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead, promising a full three hours of sleep that night. They would pull all-nighters just to give her more time in bed if they could.
But the reason for most of her exhaustion was breastfeeding.
Amber needed to feed Rumiko every hour or two with what little milk she could produce. Her breastmilk proved to be too watery and too difficult for Rumiko to drink, resulting in an angry baby that would impede their sleep demanding for food.
There was not a moment of grumbled protest from her lips. Their lover seemed to be just as much in working mode as they were. And her brain appeared to be just as equivalently reduced into a goop of sleepy monsters.
It was their fault.
They'd done a poor job in convincing her that formula was perfectly fine.
Half the team was just as brainwashed by their families that human milk was much better than scientifically manufactured crap. Those facts were reinforced by the calls from their mothers each week with thousands of tips and things that they had to do.
And thus, when the toll of their decisions grew obvious before their eyes— in the thinned gauntness of their soulmate's face from just mere days out of the hospital—it became difficult for them to convince Amber that she didn't have to listen to every damn word.
She'll become stupid if she doesn't drink breastmilk, a baby needs her mommy's milk.
Rumiko doesn't weigh enough for a child her age, she's so skinny. Is she normal?
She cries all the time and doesn't sleep? How strange...Your soulmate was nothing like this.
Are you sure she's healthy? Maybe, you should visit a doctor.
She's crying all the time? It's probably because of her milk.
Rumiko was crying again.
Hikaru groaned, blurrily rising from his bed, automatic as he moved to turn on the small desk lamp. The place they'd rented was smaller, with thinner walls and hence sharper sounds. He rubbed his eyes then squinted at the other men sleeping in makeshift beds in their smaller shared space.
Three to each room. Two or three to each fatherly unit. At night they had individual shifts to maximise sleep. Change the baby, calm the baby, take the baby to her sleeping mother for food, check the baby, lull the baby to sleep. Sometimes, Rumiko wanted none of that. Sometimes, she wanted all of it. Sometimes, she only wanted to cry.
One could never be too sure.
There was a quiet moment of desperation as his eyes flickered to the clock that screamed a time that was familiar to his head. 5AM was his duty, his shift, his turn to hold Rumiko. He stood and tore towards the door then paused as memories flooded his head.
The concert.
Amber would care for their daughter all night just for that day. He sagged against the wall, breathing softly as he closed his eyes. It was moments like this when a strange sense of liberation would feed his soul.
He considered, with guilty relish, going back to bed and pretending that he didn't hear the muffled screams beyond the walls. Rumiko was high maintenance, and nothing like the easy children his older brother seemed to have. She needed constant soothing to stave off the hysterical screams that erupted from her lips.
He considered leaving his soulmate alone.
And Hikaru could do it with good reason. He needed the sleep to dance and to sing; he needed the energy to make it through the concert that would prove taxing to his body. But his feet moved before he could think, quiet resignation and a soft smile danced across his cheeks.
How could Hikaru leave his angel alone?
She was pacing the room when he found her. And his heart squeezed as sleep faded from his eyes providing him with clarity. Amber's body was a riot of stress as she patrolled the edge of the room, up and down she went in strides as she bounced the child in her arms. She swayed her as she begged in broken words for her to stop crying.
The ring of Rumi's screams throbbed in his head in a dull thud the moment he entered the room. It was enough to understand the delirium of Amber's words. The switch from arm to arm, the expose of her breasts in attempts to understand a baby that didn't want to be understood. The feel of wetness in her diaper. Rumi only screeched louder and harder, kicked with greater frustration. And his soulmate only paced faster across the room, bounced harder, begged louder.
The glitter of tears through the darkness was a shot through his heart, liquid smears down Amber's beautiful cheeks. He moved, a firm arm to her shocked body. And she glanced up with urgent desperation, the eyes of a drowning man upon salvation. Hikaru took Rumiko into his arms without a word.
Outside, heavy rain lashed upon the windows, drumming out a constant beat. It was no humble storm and unforgivingly fat droplets slammed onto the glass, followed by the crack of thunder and the shards of lightning.
"Oh, Rumi, why are you making things so hard for your mommy?" He smiled, wiped the tears from his child's face, he held her to his chest, rocking her slowly. He walked, moving towards the window. "What's wrong little baby?"
Somehow, Rumi decided that she had enough screaming, choosing to stare up at him blearily with a funny look of utter confusion. He smiled and she seemed to blink dazedly into his eyes, miraculously quiet. He turned to look for his soulmate only to find her bent over on the floor, hair curtained upon her face, body quivering as she held herself the way a child would for comfort.
"Amber?" He knelt, but she got up hurriedly, a shaky hand swept across her face to mask the tears. It faded in soft glittery stains on her cheeks, the barest whispers of its presence. Did she cry when they weren't around? The thought pained Hikaru.
"S-sorry, you need your sleep." Weakness stirred in the crack of her voice, slow and sluggish like melting candy. "Did she wake you up?"
"I woke naturally," he assured. The blame on herself was harsh in her tone.
"Go back to sleep, I can deal with her—" she took Rumi from his arms, a scoop that had Rumi gurgling out her protests, "—I'm fine, I'll be okay. She's just fussy and doesn't want to sleep. That's all. I'll figure it out." Hikaru sat down, a soft sigh whispering out from his lips but he kept it tight for her burnt nerves.
"Come here." He patted his lap, leaned back upon the pillows to get comfortable.
"W-what? Karu—"
He sat her down carefully on his lap, pulling her into his arms, he held her carefully, feathering kisses down her neck. And with great care, he covered her arms with his own, stroking Rumi's face as he whispered softly to his lover.
"Mommy needs a hug too," he murmured soft and gentle as he kissed Amber's cheeks. His heart bled and filled as he whispered the words his soul told him she needed to hear. "Mommy's doing so good trying to take care of you. Why can't you be a good girl for her?"
There was a hitch in his soulmate's throat, a pained whimper that he rubbed away with a hand over her skin. She exhaled, the air wet in her throat and Hikaru heard the tears, didn't need to see them to know that they were there. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
"I love you so much," Hikaru whispered, holding them close with his arms. "You're doing amazing, okay?"
There was a tremble from his soulmate, a quiver of her body that had his heart melting at the flickers of gold upon her skin. It took a moment for Amber to nudge Rumi into drinking her milk. Thankfully, she seemed to have grown tired from screaming, finally settling down into Amber's arms, sucking eagerly on swollen nipples.
Like the degenerate he was, Hikaru's lower belly stirred with want at the sight of her bare breasts, and with her body pressed tight against his own. He bit on his lips, desperate attempts to shake off the lust that wallowed in a deep safe that he stored in his mind. He shouldn't be thinking about sex when his soulmate was in pain and broken with exhaustion. Much less when her breasts were bare for their child.
"She likes you more than me," Amber said after a moment of silence, pulling him free from his head. The rain pattered on heavily, a dull growl of thunder. Hikaru licked his lips, deciding that he had to tread carefully with how wound up his soulmate seemed to be.
"Why would you think so?"
"She smiles at you and she stops crying when you're around." Her voice trickled when she said those words and sadness grew.
"At this age, her smiles are just reflexes..." he stroked her hair, "And she cries with me too." He chuckled, low snort as his mind drifted to memories of bad days. "I once went down the list we made three times once, and none of them seemed to be it."
"Did you figure it out?"
"She wasn't happy with the swaddle."
There was a sigh. "I don't understand her." There was a beat of silence as Hikaru waited for her to speak. "I don't think I ever will...And I—" Her breath caught in her throat. "Sometimes, I-I hate her—"
His mouth dried at her words, and he swallowed wondering what to say. But logic overruled his moment of confusion. Who could love a torturous machine that robbed one off sleep? Who could enjoy being in the presence of a baby that screamed too much?
"That's fine," he decided on those words, "it's okay to feel that way."
But they came out soft and startled, not the way he knew she needed and filled with too much of his own selfish, Rumiko-loving emotions. And Amber began to withdraw from his arms, her head turning to look at him. In her sweet brown eyes, he saw walls of steel.
"You should sleep," she mumbled. "You need it. I don't want you passing out on stage."
"I won't," he caught her wrist. "I can take it."
"You've been sleeping three hours a night for the past few days—"
"More than you have, I know you struggle to sleep at night."
"You do?" her eyes are wide and lined with evidence, purple and blue bruises on skin.
"These eyebags do not form on their own," he smiled, sad and soft. How quickly their lives had changed with a single anomaly in their system. But that was exactly how Amber had entered their lives. A ripple of tumultuous change could sometimes be the biggest blessing.
"I-I think too much and it hurts all over."
"You could take some of your painkillers from the hospital—"
"I know the hospital said that it's safe to use, but everyone said that there could be side effects—"
"Momo," Hikaru interrupted her with a gentle bump of his forehead against hers. "Being a mother isn't just about caring for Rumiko, you've got to take care of yourself too." She went quiet, leaning against him as their daughter suckled on her breasts. And then she let out a soft sigh.
"Yeah."
Her eyes locked with his and for a moment brief electricity fizzled as his heart thundered in his chest. His soul was weak to those big, warm eyes, and his heart was weaker when traces of tears dripped from the tips of her eyelashes.
Kissing her was easy, her lips were a flood of wet, loving heat. His head dreamt of more, and his heart soared as he drew closer. But the gurgle from Rumiko was a hammer to an impossible faraway dream. He parted from Amber's lips with a smile. But her brows furrowed, a familiar drift of a cheeky grin upon her face.
"What's this?"
Her hips shifted and guilty arousal jolted through him. His face grew hot with shame, and he stared as she shifted to hold Rumi in one hand, her other moving down to pat the arousal in his pants. Her hand shifted and a soft groan escaped his lips.
He had to run; how could he feel this way with Amber weak from the birth of their child?
"I'm sorry," he escaped, moving out of the way, "I'll take care of it and then come back, I promise."
He ran then, slow jogs out of the room without looking back. If had he would have caught the crestfallen expression on his soulmate's face. The tremble of her lower lip and then the down cast of eyes. Disappointment would drip from her face before guilt would surface like a tidal wave that consumed all.
Hikaru did not hear the sound of a slowly breaking heart.
Read 50+ chapters ahead on Patreon patreon.com/tinyeyecat