Hold My Hand

“Aaaaahhh!”

I glanced at Isshin, the dramatic scream distracting me for a moment before Masaki squeezed my hand further with a real scream escaping her lips due to another contraction setting in. “Isshin, stop being a buffoon and do something! Aren’t you a doctor or whatever?”

“But – but I’m not a baby doctor!” He waved his arms wildly as if to emphasize his point. “I don’t know how to deliver a baby, Kisuke! Help meeeee!”

Masaki’s grip tightened and I winced. There went the circulation in my hand. “Kisuke,” she hissed out through the pain, “tell Isshin if he doesn’t shut up I will hurt him.”

“Got’cha.” I turned to the buffoon still panicking like … well, a buffoon. “Isshin, shut up.” He quit his babbling reluctantly. I believe the only reason he even stopped was because he saw my free hand inching toward the cane residing on the floor. Benihime had, sadly, fallen to the ground around the time Masaki had mentioned something about her water breaking. And to think, I just came over for some tea … “Now, why don’t you call Ryuuken-san and order your wife a room? Think you can do that, or should I?”

This, for whatever reason, snapped Isshin out of his self-induced panic. “Wha? My wife give birth in that man’s hospital?! Over my dead body!” I opened my mouth here to retort that such a thing could be arranged, but Isshin intercepted me before I could get started. “Masaki, my love, I will prep a room for you in the clinic!” He took off, neither Masaki nor I having a chance to stop him.

With a sheepish smile, I tried my best to comfort Masaki and cursed Isshin in my mind for the fact he had abandoned me to the ire of a pregnant woman. Atop the couch Masaki was laying on while I awkwardly kneeled beside her, Yoruichi stretched herself out in cat form, yellow eyes meeting mine in an exasperated, ‘can you believe the nerve of that man’ manner. I returned the look in kind, adding on the unspoken question ‘what am I supposed to do now?’ If cats could shrug, I would have assumed Yoruichi had just done so in response.

“Kisuke?” I redirected my gaze back to Masaki, attempting a smile for her once more in an effort to put her at ease. My smiles, I found, never worked with her. She saw right through them. “I’m fine, you know, just some pain here and there.” Just like this particular woman to keep up her headstrong attitude and reassure the people around her that should have been reassuring her instead. “No need to worry for my sake.” I cocked an eyebrow and pointedly looked at our intertwined hands, figuring the near death-like grip she currently had on my hand had to count for something.

She forced a laugh out as I shook my head at her, sighing. “Masaki-san, if I had an epidural, I wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you. But, since your husband is, and always will, be an idiot, you’re stuck here to bear with the pain. For that, I am truly sorry. You know, there’s still time for me to call Ryuuken-san …”

“It’s okay, Kisuke. I trust Isshin.” I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips with that simple statement. I trusted Isshin, too, even if he was a big buffoon. At least … I trusted him with everything except surgical procedures. Isshin plus big shiny, pointy tools? Not a good combination. “And I also have you.”

I started at that, locking eyes with her. Since when had this woman, this plain, ordinary human woman, gone from being my rival for Isshin’s heart to my friend? I … hadn’t even realized the change had occurred somewhere along the way. “What now?”

Another forced laugh from the soon-to-be mother. “Well, Isshin has you to keep him straight, you know?” I wish I didn’t find that incredibly ironic. “And, I … I’m just glad I met you, too, Kisuke.”

“Masaki-san …” I paused for a second, fighting back the strange urge to laugh. “You’re giving birth, not dying. It’s like you’re giving me your final words or something in a melodramatic soap opera!”

Isshin returned to find us both in a fit of giggles with Yoruichi purring up a storm. Poor guy, he was terribly confused.