The Wonderful Trials Of Family
The Radiant Star and the Little Sister’s Critique
The Otori-Tenma household was bathed in the kind of serene, honey-colored light that only seemed to exist in the quietest hours of a Sunday morning. Motes of dust danced lazily in the streams of sunshine pouring through the generous, wide windows of the living room. It was a rare moment of absolute stillness; the bouncy house in the "fun room" was deflated and silent, the kitchen was free of the usual flour-dusted chaos of Emu’s baking, and the scripts on the coffee table were neatly stacked for once.
This peace, however, was a fragile thing, and it was about to be shattered by a very specific, melodic force of nature.
The subtle click and twist of a key echoed through the hallway. Saki Tenma peeked her head through the door, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She stepped inside with the confidence of someone who had rightfully demanded a spare key on the grounds that, as Tsukasa’s beloved younger sister, this house was at least forty percent hers by spiritual right.
"Helloooo? Is the world’s greatest star still stuck in dreamland?" Saki called out, her voice a cheerful chime that vibrated through the air.
She paused, tilting her head. From behind the closed door of the master bedroom, a rhythmic, rumbling sound drifted out. It was a snore—the kind of dramatic, bellows-like snore that could only belong to a man who put his entire soul into everything he did, including sleeping.
Saki couldn't help but giggle, throwing her bag onto the armchair. "Oh, big brother... you really haven't changed a bit!" She took a deep breath and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Tsukasa-kun! Wake up! It’s way too late for a leading man to be lounging about!"
Inside the bedroom, Tsukasa Tenma bolted upright as if a stage pyrotechnic had gone off under his pillow. His eyes were wide and wild for a split second before the familiar melody of his sister’s voice registered in his brain.
"Saki?" he croaked, his voice thick with sleep.
His first instinct, honed over months of protective vigilance, was to turn immediately to the woman beside him. Emu was still deep in slumber, her pink hair fanned out across the pillow like a soft cloud. Her breathing was shallow and peaceful, her hands curled protectively near the swell of her stomach where their son was currently resting.
Tsukasa exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He didn't bother searching for a shirt in the dim light; instead, he grabbed a discarded hoodie from the foot of the bed—a bright yellow one with a giant, winking cartoon star on the chest. He pulled it on, the fabric still smelling faintly of the laundry detergent Emu liked.
Before leaving the room, he leaned down, pressing a lingering, feather-light kiss to Emu’s forehead and then her lips. "Stay asleep, my Muse," he whispered into the quiet. "The Star will handle the intruder."
He padded out of the room, closing the door with the surgical precision of a bomb technician. The moment he stepped into the living room and saw Saki standing there, looking healthy and radiant in the morning light, all his attempts at being a "cool, collected husband" evaporated.
"Saki!" he wailed, his voice cracking with sudden, unreasonable emotion.
He lunged forward, sweeping her into a crushing hug. Saki laughed, her feet nearly leaving the floor as Tsukasa buried his face in her shoulder, bawling her name with the intensity of a tragic opera protagonist.
"Big brother, you’re going to wake the neighbors!" Saki teased, though she squeezed him back just as hard.
"I don't care about the neighbors! My dear sister has graced my humble abode with her presence!" Tsukasa pulled back just enough to pepper the top of her head with loud, wet kisses. "You look wonderful! Are you eating enough? Is your band keeping you too busy? Do I need to have a word with Ichika?"
"I’m fine, I’m fine!" Saki laughed, gently pushing his face away. "But so much for keeping Emu-chan asleep. You’re the loudest person in the ward, Tsukasa-kun."
"Nonsense! My voice is naturally resonant!" Tsukasa insisted, though he did lower his volume as they moved toward the plush sofa.
They sat down together, the familiar comfort of their sibling bond filling the space between them. For a while, the conversation was a rapid-fire exchange of news—Saki talking about Leo/need’s latest practice sessions and Tsukasa detailing the latest "miraculous" movements of the baby.
However, Saki’s expression soon shifted into something more devilish. She leaned back, crossing her legs and tapping her chin thoughtfully. "You know, Tsukasa-kun, I had a very interesting phone call with Emu-chan last night."
Tsukasa puffed out his chest, a proud smirk forming on his lips. "Oh? And I assume she spent the entire duration praising my unparalleled dedication to our household?"
"Well," Saki began, her eyes twinkling. "She did say you were 'extremely handsome' when you’re focusing on your scripts. She said your jawline looks like it was carved by the gods of the theater."
Tsukasa’s face flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. He cleared his throat, adjusting his hoodie. "Yes, well... Emu has always had an excellent eye for talent and aesthetics."
"But!" Saki interjected, her voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. "She also mentioned that you didn't help her with the laundry the other day. She said she had to carry the basket all by herself while you sat on the porch 'communing with nature' or whatever it is you do."
Tsukasa’s mouth dropped open. "I—that’s—she’s twisting the narrative!" He stood up, gesturing wildly with his hands. "I did that with intent, Saki! The doctor said light activity is good for her circulation! I was merely encouraging her to maintain her physical prowess for the sake of the baby! I was being a supportive coach!"
"A supportive coach?" Saki echoed, her voice rising in a playful lilt. "Emu-chan told me she felt like a lonely laborer in the salt mines while her husband played with a ladybug in the garden. I have to say, Tsukasa-kun... it sounds like you’re becoming an unreliable husband."
The words hit Tsukasa like a physical blow. "Unreliable?! I am the most reliable man in the history of marriage! I am a pillar! A bastion of domestic support!"
"A pillar that doesn't do socks?" Saki poked his side, giggling as he jumped. "I don't know, big brother. Maybe I should move in for a week to make sure Emu-chan isn't being overworked. You might need a supervisor."
"I do not need a supervisor! I am the Director of this household!" Tsukasa’s voice was rising to a theatrical roar, his buttons thoroughly pressed. "I have a spreadsheet for the nursery! I have a color-coded system for the baby's future costumes! I am—"
"Is there a sale on cake?"
The soft, sleepy voice cut through Tsukasa’s tirade like a knife through silk. Both Tenma siblings froze and turned toward the hallway.
Emu was standing there, the picture of maternal softness. She was rubbing one eye with the back of her hand, her pink hair standing up in adorable tufts of bedhead. Her other hand was resting protectively on the underside of her belly. She looked like a cozy marshmallow in her maternity gown, her eyes blinking slowly as she tried to process the scene in the living room.
"Emu-chan! You’re awake!" Saki chirped, hopping off the sofa.
"Saki-chan?" Emu’s face lit up with a groggy but genuine smile. "Is it cake time? I heard someone shouting about a sale."
Tsukasa was across the room in an instant. He didn't care about the "unreliable" title anymore; his only mission was the comfort of the woman in front of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his side with a tenderness that contradicted his earlier loud bravado.
"No cake sale yet, my star," Tsukasa murmured, his voice dropping an octave into a soothing, low register. "Just my sister being a menace to society."
He leaned down and captured Emu’s lips in a kiss. It wasn't a quick morning peck; it was a deep, appreciative kiss that spoke of late-night cravings, shared fears, and the quiet joy of their growing family.
Saki watched them, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "Okay, okay, I get it! You love each other! My eyes are burning from the sweetness!" She shielded her eyes with her hand, though she was smiling through her fingers. "Honestly, you two are like a shoujo manga come to life. It’s a bit much for a Sunday morning."
Emu giggled against Tsukasa’s lips, finally pulling back just enough to breathe. "But Tsukasa-kun is a very good kisser, Saki-chan. It’s like a 'Wonderhoy' for my face."
"See!" Tsukasa declared, pointing a finger at Saki while keeping his other arm firmly around Emu. "A 'Wonderhoy' for the face! Does that sound like the work of an unreliable husband?"
Saki rolled her eyes, moving back to the couch. "It sounds like the work of a husband who is trying to distract his wife from the fact that the laundry basket is still sitting in the hallway."
Emu’s eyes widened as she looked at Saki, a mischievous glint entering her gaze. She looked up at Tsukasa, pouting her lip just a tiny bit—a move she knew was his ultimate weakness.
"Actually, Tsukasa-kun... my back does feel a little bit 'boing-boing' today," Emu lied shamelessly, leaning her weight into him. "Maybe the laundry was a bit much for a takoyaki like me."
Tsukasa’s heart practically shattered in his chest. The "coach" persona was incinerated instantly, replaced by the "Ultimate Pampering Husband."
"Emu! My apologies! I have failed in my duty!" He practically swept her off her feet, guiding her toward the most comfortable armchair in the room. "Sit! Do not move a muscle! Saki, fetch the footrest! No, I will fetch the footrest! You fetch the water! Cold, but not too cold! It must be the perfect temperature for the baby’s palate!"
Emu sank into the chair with a delighted "Hyuu!" as Tsukasa began a whirlwind of activity. He moved through the living room like a golden blur, fluffing pillows, adjusting the curtains to block out any glare, and eventually kneeling at Emu’s feet.
"Is the elevation acceptable?" he asked, his expression one of intense focus as he placed her feet on the cushioned stool.
"It’s perfect, Tsukasa-kun," Emu said, reaching out to pat his cheek.
Saki leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, holding a glass of water and watching her brother work. "Wow. I didn't know you had a 'Butler Mode,' Tsukasa-kun. Can I get this service at my house too?"
"This service is exclusive to the Queen of the Wonder Stage!" Tsukasa shouted back, though he was currently busy gently massaging Emu’s ankles with practiced ease. "And don't think I’ve forgotten your accusations, Saki! I will prove my reliability through a series of domestic triumphs that will leave you in awe!"
Emu leaned back, a look of pure contentment on her face. She reached out and took Saki’s hand as the younger girl approached with the water. "He’s actually very good at this, Saki-chan. Last night, he stayed up for two hours reading a book about how to swaddle a baby using only 'theatrical folds' so the baby feels like a star."
Saki burst out laughing. "Theatrical folds? Are you going to turn our nephew into a little origami crane, Tsukasa-kun?"
"It provides structural integrity and aesthetic appeal!" Tsukasa defended himself, though he didn't stop the massage. "A Tenma child must be wrapped in excellence!"
The morning continued in a beautiful, chaotic harmony. Saki eventually joined them on the floor, the three of them sharing a plate of sliced fruit that Tsukasa had arranged into the shape of a smiling sun. They talked about the future, about the shows they would put on with a stroller in the wings, and about the names they were still debating.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Emu felt a familiar, gentle nudge from within. She took Tsukasa’s hand and placed it firmly on the side of her stomach.
"Look," she whispered. "He’s happy too."
Tsukasa went still, his eyes softening as he felt the tiny, rhythmic thumps against his palm. All the noise, all the bravado, and all the playful bickering with Saki faded into the background. In that moment, he wasn't a world-famous star or a dramatic director. He was just a man, deeply in love with his wife, waiting to meet the person who would become his greatest audience.
"He has a strong kick," Saki noted, leaning in to watch. "Definitely a future performer."
"He’s going to be whatever he wants to be," Tsukasa said softly, his voice full of a quiet, steady strength. "But whatever it is, he’ll have the best seat in the house. Right here with us."
Emu leaned her head on Tsukasa’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of the room and the love of her family enveloped her. "Wonderhoy, Tsukasa-kun."
"Wonderhoy, Emu," he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Saki smiled, taking a quiet photo of the two of them with her phone. She knew that no matter how much she teased him, her brother had found exactly where he belonged. The stage was grand, the lights were bright, but the real show—the one that truly mattered—was happening right here, in a sun-drenched living room filled with the scent of peaches and the promise of a new tomorrow.