Wonderful Trials of Family
A Galaxy of Domestic Bliss
The Otori-Tenma household was bathed in the stillness of a perfect Sunday morning. High above the polished wooden floors, motes of dust danced in the long, generous streams of sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The living room, usually a theater of chaotic rehearsals and discarded props, was uncharacteristically serene. The only sound was the rhythmic ticking of a clock and the distant, muffled chirp of a bird in the garden.
This peace was abruptly, albeit melodically, shattered. The metallic twist of a key echoed through the hallway, followed by the soft creak of the front door. Saki Tenma peeked her head inside, her eyes sparkling with a familiar brand of mischief. She stepped into the foyer with the practiced confidence of someone who had declared this house "forty percent hers" by right of sisterhood.
"Helloooo! Is anyone awake in this house of stars?" Saki called out, her voice a bright chime that resonated off the minimalist walls.
She paused, tilting her head. From behind the heavy oak door of the master bedroom came a sound that was less "majestic star" and more "hibernating bear." Tsukasa was snoring—a loud, rhythmic, and utterly un-regal rumble that made Saki stifle a giggle behind her hand.
"Oh, Tsukasa-nii," she whispered to herself. Then, taking a deep breath, she cupped her hands around her mouth and projected toward the hallway. "Wake up, Big Brother! The sun is high, the birds are singing, and it’s far too late for a world-class performer to be hibernating!"
Inside the bedroom, the snore cut off with a sharp, undignified snort. Tsukasa bolted upright, his golden hair a spectacular nest of static and sleep-deprived tangles. His eyes were wide and frantic for a split second before his internal "Big Brother Radar" identified the intruder.
"Saki?" he croaked, his voice thick with sleep.
His first instinct, faster than his own consciousness, was to turn to his left. Emu was a soft mound beneath the duvet, her breathing deep and even. Even in sleep, her hand was protectively curled over the swell of her stomach. The sight of her—peaceful, radiant, and carrying their future—instantly softened the sharp edges of his sudden awakening.
Tsukasa didn't bother searching for a shirt. He grabbed a discarded hoodie from the armchair—a bright yellow piece with a large, grinning cartoon star on the front—and tugged it over his head. He crawled across the mattress with exaggerated stealth, leaning down to press a lingering, feather-light kiss to Emu’s forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips.
"Stay asleep, my star," he whispered into the quiet of the room. "I shall handle the invading force."
He slipped out of the room, closing the door with a click so silent it would have made a ninja envious. However, the moment he rounded the corner and saw Saki standing in the living room, looking healthy and bright-eyed, his composure shattered.
"SAKIIIIII!" Tsukasa wailed, his voice cracking with an unreasonable amount of emotion.
He lunged forward, gathering his sister into a crushing embrace. Saki laughed, her small frame nearly disappearing into the yellow hoodie as Tsukasa peppered the top of her head with frantic, dramatic kisses.
"You’re here! My dear sister has graced us with her presence! Oh, the joy! The splendor!" He pulled back, his eyes actually welling up with tears. "But why so early? Are you hungry? Did you bring news from the doctor? Is your heart okay?"
Saki rolled her eyes, though she hugged him back just as tightly. "Nii-san, it’s eleven in the morning. And I’m fine! I just wanted to see how my nephew-to-be was doing. But so much for keeping Emu-chan asleep. You’re shouting loud enough to wake the neighbors three streets over."
Tsukasa froze, his hands flying to his mouth. "Gah! You’re right! My booming projection—a curse and a blessing!"
He led her over to the plush sofa, the one Emu had insisted on because it felt like "sitting on a marshmallow." They settled in, the morning sun warming their backs as they began to catch up. For a while, they spoke of Saki’s band practice and Tsukasa’s recent scripts, but Saki’s expression soon turned devious.
"So," Saki began, leaning back and crossing her legs. "I had a very interesting phone call with Emu-chan last night."
Tsukasa puffed out his chest, his "Future Star" persona clicking into place even in his pajamas. "Oh? Did she tell you of my latest triumph at the theater? My monologue was said to have moved the stagehands to tears."
"Actually," Saki said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "she spent about ten minutes talking about how incredibly handsome you’ve been looking lately. She said that even when you’re concentrated on your scripts with those little reading glasses on, you look like a prince from a fairy tale."
Tsukasa’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled a ripe tomato. He coughed into his hand, trying to regain his dignity. "Well... ahem. Emu has always had excellent taste. She recognizes true brilliance when she sees it."
"But," Saki added, her voice dropping an octave, "she also mentioned that you didn't help her with the laundry the other day. She said she was standing there, looking at a mountain of socks, and you were too busy practicing your 'heroic stance' in the mirror to notice."
Tsukasa’s jaw dropped. "Now, wait just a moment! That is a gross misinterpretation of the facts! I noticed! I noticed the socks, Saki! But I read in a very reputable parenting journal that light physical activity is beneficial for the mother's circulation! I was... I was encouraging her autonomy! I was being a supportive coach!"
Saki let out a theatrical sigh, shaking her head. "I don’t know, Nii-san. Sounds like an 'unreliable husband' to me. Poor, pregnant Emu-chan, left to battle the laundry demons all alone while her husband admires his own reflection..."
"Unreliable? ME?" Tsukasa stood up, gesturing wildly at the ceiling. "I am the pillar of this household! I am the foundation! I am the very roof that shields her from the rain! I spent three hours yesterday researching the chemical composition of different baby detergents to ensure our son’s skin is never irritated! I am the most reliable man in Japan!"
"I don't know," Saki teased, poking his arm. "A real star would have had those socks folded and color-coded before the sun went down."
"I shall fold them now! I shall fold them with such precision they will look like origami!"
"Is there a sale on cake?"
The voice was small, sleepy, and slightly muffled. Both Tenma siblings spun around.
Emu was standing in the hallway arch, the picture of domestic adorable-ness. She was wearing a loose, oversized maternity gown in a soft peach color, her pink hair standing up in several gravity-defying directions. She was rubbing one eye with the back of her hand while the other hand rested comfortably on the underside of her belly.
"Emu-chan!" Saki chirped, hopping off the sofa.
"Emu! My queen!" Tsukasa sprinted across the room.
Before Emu could even fully blink the sleep from her eyes, Tsukasa had scooped her up—carefully avoiding any pressure on her stomach—and deposited her on the sofa between him and Saki.
"Did I hear someone say cake?" Emu asked, leaning her head on Tsukasa’s shoulder. "I had a dream that a giant strawberry shortcake was performing a dance routine, and it was so 'Wonderhoy' that I woke up hungry."
"No cake yet, but I shall procure the finest confectioneries in the city immediately!" Tsukasa declared. He then turned his gaze toward her, his expression shifting from frantic to intensely devoted. "But first..."
He cupped her face and leaned in, kissing her deeply. It wasn't the quick, chaste peck of a busy morning; it was a slow, worshipful kiss that spoke of everything they had built together.
Saki watched for three seconds, then four. By the five-second mark, she made a loud, exaggerated gagging sound.
"Okay! Okay! I get it! You love each other! My eyes are burning!" Saki cried, shielding her face with a decorative pillow. "Nii-san, you’re being gross!"
Tsukasa finally pulled back, though he kept his arms wrapped firmly around Emu. He gave Saki a triumphant, challenging look. "Gross? Nay! This is the passion of a devoted husband! You called me unreliable, Saki! Now you shall witness the true power of my pampering!"
Emu giggled, the sound bright and bubbly, dispelling the last of her sleepiness. "Pampering? Does that mean I don't have to get my own water today?"
"You shall not lift a finger!" Tsukasa proclaimed. "You shall not even think about the concept of effort! Saki, observe!"
For the next hour, the living room became the stage for the 'Tsukasa Tenma Supreme Caretaking Show.' He moved with a blurred, frantic energy that would have been impressive if it weren't so ridiculous.
First came the "Footrest of Champions." Tsukasa dashed to the linen closet, returned with three silk pillows, and arranged them under Emu’s feet with the precision of a diamond cutter.
"Is the elevation satisfactory, Emu?" he asked, kneeling before her.
"Mmm, it’s very floaty-woaty!" she chirped.
Next was the "Hydration of the Gods." He didn't just bring her a glass of water; he brought a tray with three different types of herbal tea, a glass of chilled sparkling water with a slice of organic lemon, and a straw that had a tiny plastic star on it.
"Choose your destiny, my love," he said with a bow.
Saki sat on the other side of Emu, munching on a bag of pretzels she’d found in the pantry, watching the show with an amused grin. "You know, Nii-san, you could just sit down and talk to her. That's also a form of support."
"Silence, skeptic!" Tsukasa shouted from the kitchen, where the sound of a blender suddenly roared to life. "I am currently preparing a nutrient-dense smoothie that will ensure our son has the vocal cords of a tenor!"
Emu leaned over to Saki, whispering loudly, "He’s been like this since the sun came up yesterday. He even tried to carry me to the bathroom because he said walking was 'excessive cardio' for someone in my condition."
Saki laughed, leaning her head against Emu’s shoulder. "He’s such a dork. But he really does adore you, Emu-chan."
"I know," Emu said softly, her gaze following Tsukasa as he marched back into the room holding a bright green drink as if it were a holy relic. "It makes my heart go 'sparkle-sparkle' every time he tries so hard."
Tsukasa set the smoothie down and then, as if realizing he had been away from her side for too long, he sat back down and pulled her into his lap. He began to gently massage her shoulders, his hands surprisingly steady and skillful.
"Saki," Tsukasa said, his voice dropping the theatrical volume for a moment. "You mentioned the laundry. I want it on the record that I have already programmed the washing machine for a delicate cycle, and I have prepared a drying rack in the sunroom to avoid any shrinkage of Emu’s favorite sweaters."
Saki raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you're not an unreliable husband after all?"
"I am the most reliable man in the galaxy!" Tsukasa shouted, his confidence returning in a flash of gold. "I am a star that never sets! I am the guardian of this home!"
Emu reached up, patting his cheek. "And you're a very good daddy, too. The baby stopped kicking the moment you started talking. I think he likes the sound of your loud voice."
Tsukasa went quiet, his hand instinctively moving to rest over Emu’s stomach. The bravado melted away, replaced by that raw, shimmering look of wonder that always made Saki feel like she was witnessing something private and sacred.
"He does?" Tsukasa whispered. "He likes the 'World Future Star's' voice?"
"He thinks you're funny," Emu teased, poking his nose. "Just like I do."
Saki watched them—the way Tsukasa leaned his forehead against Emu’s, the way Emu’s hand stayed intertwined with his, and the way the morning light seemed to congregate around them. In this house, filled with bouncy houses and scripts and the smell of impending fatherhood, there was a sense of completeness that didn't need a stage or an audience.
"Alright, alright," Saki said, standing up and stretching. "I'll give you a pass on the 'unreliable' comment. For today. But Nii-san, if I come back next week and there are socks on the floor, I’m telling Mom."
Tsukasa laughed, a real, boisterous sound that echoed through the halls. "There shall be no socks, Saki! Only order! Only brilliance! And perhaps... only a little bit more cake."
"Wonderhoy!" Emu shouted, throwing her arms up in the air.
As Saki made her way to the kitchen to help find that cake, she heard Tsukasa start to narrate a story to Emu’s stomach—a grand tale of a prince, a pink-haired princess, and a little star who was about to change the world.
The Otori-Tenma household was no longer silent. It was loud, it was dramatic, and it was perfectly, wonderfully home.