It's a couple hours after your second birthday's party that you speak your first word.
The birthday party wasn't anything bad. The living room was cleared and tables were set up. Mama baked a plenty of pastries, and birthday decorations were simply everywhere. There's a sort of sadness you feel as you watch Mama working alone, but you try your best to shake it away. You knew that today should be a happy day for you—and by proxy, for her, and you're not going to drag it down because you're feeling particularly pouty.
You try your best not to make Mama sad, and for the most part, it works. You're not a normal baby, that much you know. You're not sure
why you're not normal, or
how you know you're not normal, but that's just it. You eat your food without playing or throwing it around—and it helps that Mama's food is delicious!—you keep quiet when Mama is resting, and you listen to her when she's telling you things.
But there are times when it
wouldn't, when she would lift you off your crib, and starts playing with you. Mussing up the little
surprising grey tuft on your hair—Mama seemed surprised at it, but simply shrugs after a time—singing a soft song she probably heard elsewhere, reading a story-book, and bubbling about stories of Papa and Mama. At those times, she would look
sad with sad eyes and sad smile—which would soon evaporates after a time.
So it comes back to the start:
Papa.
You don't...
hate him, that much you're sure.
Hate is such a strong word you would only use when you truly
despise someone, and you don't
despise Papa. But you don't
like him either, and nor do you
dislike him. He's busy, you get that. He may or may not be an actual Construction Worker, but you would't
judge him either way—
because something tells you that you shouldn't judge someone when you don't have the full picture—because he provides and on the rare times he would visit, you know that he loves
Mama and you. But he also makes Mama sad and lonely, and...
Disappointed. Yes, that's the word. Another complicated word with a somewhat complicated definition that your mind mysteriously procures. Perhaps a touch miffed at the side. He should be here with her, not with whatever it is he's working about. Perhaps not
always, but more than he is now. You made a mental note that when you're old enough, you would give him a lecture!
Still, back to the party. It was fun. There were Mama's friends, and Takeshi's father that seems awfully close to Mama—you give him a glare whenever you have the chance—and there were also
your friends and others that you don't fully recognize. Sasagawa Kyouko was as shy, but sunny as ever. Her brother, Ryohei, was as loud as ever, congratulating on your birthday the loudest of the other toddlers. There's also Yamamoto(So that's his surname!) Takeshi, or Takeshi in general, which you're admittedly the closest with.
The pastries and cakes were delicious, and there were a lot of mess when the party is done. Takeshi's father, and a few of Mama's other friends stayed behind to clean up, and when all was done, they all went home, and you're being carried by Mama upstairs, feeling tired yourself.
That's when you speak your first word. Well, not exactly. You had spoken simpler words before, like 'no' and 'yes', but this is the
actual first word that uses more than one syllabelles.
"Mama." The word comes out easier than you had first thought. Clearer, and probably much more understandble than other babies' gurgled response.
Mama nearly stumbles on her foot, but recovers immediately before she could hit the ground. She looks at you, honey brown eyes wide. The small smile on her face freezes.
"Mama," you repeat again, reaching out to her.
Mama promptly squeals in happiness. "Tsu-kun just spoke his first word!" She exclaims. There are stars in her eyes, and small bits of happiness tears. She squeals once more, smoothly skipping to her room, where your crib is located, and softly puts you in. "Call me again!"
"Mama." You repeat. "Mama!"
She squeals gleefully, and she somehow procures a camera out of nowhere.
You're okay with this.
[You feel closer to Mama!]
()_()_()
"Ah dear!" Mama gasps from the kitchen, and you quickly glance over to her direction from your high-chair. There's a sheepish smile as she steps into the dining room, an iron ladle pressed to her chest. "It seems I forgot to buy grocery for today..."
And that is how you spend dinner in Takesushi. It's fairly crowded, all in all, although not so much that you and Mama couldn't have a seat. You play with Takeshi, afterwards—though there's not much to play about when Takeshi himself could barely speak properly. Still, it is nonetheless fun to play with someone around your age. There's just something about Takeshi that feels both familiar and mellowing. You don't think much about it, really.
Oh, and you also keep an extra sharp eye on Takeshi's father. They're just friends, nothing more and nothing less, of that you know. It's probably not so different when compared with Mama's relationship with Kyo-chan and Ryo-san's mother, and the same could be said with Takeshi's father. But you can't help it.
[You feel closer to Yamamoto Takeshi!]
()_()_()
Papa comes to visit one day, staying for a week or so. There's a feast, though it's sad that you can't eat much of it. You scowl inwardly, wishing you would grow faster. Afterwards, you take bath with Papa—he carrying you like you're the frailest glass ever, and watching you like a hawk. You understand his concern, even if it's annoying.
"Hey, Tsu-kun," you look up from where you're nesting on his lap. There's a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry I didn't go to your party."
You shrug your shoulders, babbling a somewhat coherent response that he shouldn't be too concerned.
He frowns, rough warm hands ruffling your gray hair. "Well, I'm your Papa! I should be much more active in your life as a role-model!"
You look at him flatly.
"Yeah," he grins, patting your head. "I know I'm not a good role-model. But I'm trying to be, you see! Someday I'll be one with the stars, and you could see me burning brightly on the sky forever!"
You eye him curiously, blubbering out an inquisitive voice as you try to make yourself comfortable.
"Indeed," he nods, grinning wildly. "You'll see..." He trails off, and for a second there, you think you could see something else on his face. "But enough of that! Since I forgot about your birthday, I'm planning to give you a late-birthday present. Well," he winks at you. "Presents, actually. One," he reaches into the bag leaning by his side, pulling out a plushie of a...
[] Lion
[] Teddie Bear
[] Grey Wolf
[] Write-in
You make a fascinated voice at the doll, and you snuggle it close to you once it lands on your arms.
Papa chuckles at your reaction. "Second..." He pulls out something else, this time it's a box. "It's not much, but I think you're going to like it. Go on, open it," There's an eager look on his face.
It's a watch. A pocket watch, to be exact.
You look flatly to Papa.
"Oh," he pouts. It's kinda disturbing. "Don't look at me like that. My colleagues told me it would fit you..." he nearly sulks. "But," he recovers quickly, carefully guiding your hand to the round pocket watch. There's a click, and its cover flicks open. "Cool, isn't it? This way, you could keep up with the time, Tsu-kun!"
And it'll let me know if you're in danger.
Sometimes, you can't help but ponder whether Papa is underestimating or overestimating you. Possibly both, it seems.
[You feel closer to Papa]
To be continued~
