Chapter 1
Iris
I ran swiftly, caring nothing for my mud-streaked track shoes, ignoring the liquid makeup streaking down my cheeks, paying no mind even to my drenched hair… I had soaked the entire hallway—the nursery.
“I… I’m sorry I’m late…”
I gasped, standing at the door, catching my breath, while the pony-tailed little one spun around me, her head bouncing with a pink ribbon tied in a bow. She wrapped her tiny legs around mine, and I met her honey-colored eyes—the reason I both lived and died.
“I think this time, madam, you’re in trouble…”
I pressed my lips together in sorrow, bending down, opening my hands, and then enfolding her—the best thing my womb had ever done in its entire life.
“Mommy~”
My heart leapt as I looked at her. I wanted to pull her away, afraid of her getting wet, yet I was a selfish, desperate fool craving the tiny arms coiling around me, even if they clung to a drenched, tattered body… It would be selfish to hold her a hundred… no, billions of times without fatigue or boredom.
I lifted my torso as the little one wrapped her legs around my waist, resting my arms on her back, holding her tightly.
“I’m deeply sorry, Miss Sophie… I promise it won’t happen again.”
Her expression did not soften this time; rather, it was darker than ever, swallowing my fear and sending it to the deepest pit of my stomach.
“I’ve already said it four times this month… Mrs. Iris… We know you have obligations, but the children come first. If you can’t care for her, I can offer you a foster placement… she’ll cooperate fully—”
“No!”
I snapped, the tone as firm as my grip around the little one, my brow furrowing sharply. Those tiny fingers explored my frown, the crease of my lips, unraveling my sternness, forcing a reluctant smile.
“Your makeup’s running…”
“Yes, my dear… I’ll remove it once we’re home.”
Miss Sophie lifted the little one’s shiny pink bag, adorned with my tiny pony illustrations, and handed it to my free hand.
“I’ve already suggested several options fitting your status and work… They’ll cooperate if you wish to visit anytime…”
“I said no! It will never happen!”
“Exactly! It should never happen when you’ve been late to your daughter four times in the same month… and today, congratulations… this makes five.”
I said nothing, walking ahead, leaving muddy footprints as evidence of my passage.
“Mommy…”
“Yes, my girl?”
I placed her in the child seat, on the passenger side, and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t like leaving you…”
“Neither do I, my girl… Don’t expect me ever to leave you… ever, ever… I may be late, yes, but I’ll always be around… in body or in soul.”
I glanced to my side. Her rosy nails played with the ponytail, her pink smile revealing a permanent bunny tooth and a milk tooth clinging in my daughter’s mouth. She didn’t understand a word I said, yet its echo would repeat daily in her ears, whether she liked it or not. I would never leave her—no, not in this life, not even as a damned soul condemned to eternal hell.
I turned on the radio, a romantic song for adults. My precious daughter, captivated by the words of love without understanding their meaning, hummed along, sinking into the music. I would be sinful if I said I didn’t like it—but who could I blame? She was my pink little copy, my tiny echo… and honestly, I was grateful she was mine. I had mocked women who acted as mere printing machines, replicating their husbands in children; now, I was proud I hadn’t been a printing press. I had been a confectioner, baking a pink pie of joy sitting beside me, living in the song’s atmosphere… utterly tempting.
“Again…”
The little one spun in circles, reveling in the adrenaline that coursed through her tiny body seconds before I had collapsed on the couch from dizziness. This little whirlwind would one day exhaust me. My God… she doesn’t resemble me in this trait! Or did I used to? I can’t recall.
“I feel the earth spinning, Tulip! My mind is breaking into hundreds of pieces inside my head…”
“Really, Iris? That means you have more than a hundred minds! If so, it must be enormous… very, very enormous…”
I paused, then looked at her with mock-serious eyes, ready for a silly remark.
“Iris… you truly do have a large skull…”
My God, those eyes would drive me insane. I placed an ordinary smile on my face.
“We are born with different head sizes, my girl… some people will mind… they’ll call it bullying. And what’s our basic rule, my girl?”
“Don’t bully!”
“Exactly.”
I opened my arms, and she flung herself into my embrace. The little one, I inhaled the soft scent of her hair, while the scent of baby powder clung to her. My clean daughter, Tulip—just like the flower.
Kaden
Adrenaline surged through my veins as if I had been injected with morphine. The biting cold air scraped against my hands; I should have worn a jacket, or at least a longer shirt, but the sensation—despite its chill, seeping through the hairs on my skin—was exhilarating.
A rider must never close their eyes, especially when off the track. But who cares?
My eyes were shut, my hands trembling, lashed by the icy whip of the wind. Life pulsed in my moldy heart, and yet… it was the calm—the quiet—that placed me in this moment. My mind humbled itself to life, while my heart composed a symphony of breath for Beethoven, who died before he could ever write it, or invent it.
“Open your eyes, you fool! Do you want to die?”
Can a person not savor a moment of peace, even for a few seconds? My hands returned to the grips on both sides; I opened my eyes, furrowed my brow, and glanced at the ridiculous figure riding beside me.
“Death cannot steal me!”
I shouted it, surging forward faster than him.
“I told you four months ago! And since then, you’ve had four broken ribs, not to mention a fractured nose and two legs in casts…”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to taint the moment—it was already sour enough.
We reached the agreed endpoint. I stopped my bike, set the stand down, inhaled deeply, exhaled even deeper, and dismounted. I crossed my arms over my chest, helmet off, narrowing my eyes at him as he dismounted his bike too.
“You didn’t have to agree with me…”
“You didn’t need to chase me…”
“I’m not here because of you… Do you think I’m obsessed with you or something?”
I twisted my lips in disgust.
“You should’ve been careful… I don’t have the energy to take care of you.”
I patted his shoulder, and he mounted his bike again, following the same path back home—our home.
I sighed, helmetless this time, keeping pace with the wheels of his bike. We found rhythm together, playing cautiously until we arrived.
“I’m back!”
The voice rang out, entering before me. Tiny arms wrapped around his torso, another pair around his legs.
“Happy birthday, Dad!!”
“Happy birthday, Dad!”
Two girls exclaimed in exaggerated excitement. Ahead, a teenage boy stepped forward, extending his hand for a handshake.
“Thank you for being born, man… I wouldn’t be alive without you…”
Kazuo gently shifted the girls aside after embracing them, imagining if they had felt hurt… God, I didn’t even want to imagine it. Yet if Kazuo made a mistake, I would share in the consequence.
He shook the teen’s hand, tousled his hair, then hugged him, a man-to-man display of honor. A short woman with a swollen belly approached, wearing a short yellow dress, her fiery hair cascading to her knees. She struggled with her feet; my compassionate brother never missed a chance to aggravate her belly. She carried a cake in one hand, attempting to light 36 candles with the other. The lighter wouldn’t cooperate, so Kazuo held her close, kissed her forehead, lit the candles, and smiled at Tian—his wife, mother of their four children, my brother’s kind wife.
“Happy birthday… Kazuo~~”
I prayed I wouldn’t vomit. This torrent of kindness, love, and intimacy was overwhelming for a single man like me. Violet and Eichel cheered their father on in kissing their mother. I met the teenager’s gaze, who looked for a moment like he might explode. I nodded in understanding. He frowned. Yes, my friend, we shall suffer together… intensely.
I had entered unnoticed. They didn’t care about me, and frankly, that wasn’t personal—the focus today was Kazuo.
“Happy Birthday, Kazo.”
The melody lingered in the room for nearly fifteen minutes, until I cut the cake, shattering the mood for the girls and their mother. They grumbled, while Elyo smiled at me—not an ordinary man-to-man smile, but a gratitude smile, as if I had freed him from a brutal battle. I understood you, my friend. I understood.
“Sorry for ruining your party… but my stomach is starving!”
I muttered, trying for a tone of regret. My one true regret: I hadn’t cut the caramel piece and had taken the chocolate instead. Tian grumbled slightly, standing to cut the cake.
Minutes passed, filled with Kazuo’s conversations with the girls, then the intimate middle section, followed—finally—by a manly discussion of horses, bikes, and cars.
When the clock struck midnight, Kazuo literally kicked us to our rooms, distracted by the swollen duck walking beside him.
The next morning
I thanked Tian sincerely for her exquisite coffee, looked at my bike, pressing my lips in regret over the time I would waste sitting at a desk in a sterile office instead of outside in the warm air.
Twenty minutes later, I was already in front of my computer, reviewing the plans for a new pediatric oncology department. I sighed, closed my eyes, imagining Thomas. Could he survive with all this technology? I doubted it. Children like Thomas were buried in this very moment.
I picked up the office phone and called Celia, my secretary.
“Have Brownies Inc. cover the construction costs for the new oncology wing at Hope Hospital… they’ll handle 25% of expenses and coordinate with the accounting team. I’ll discuss the remaining costs with Dr. Lynx.”
“Understood, sir…”
“Thank you, Celia.”
I hung up, leaned back, studying the blueprint carefully, contemplating, hoping it would succeed and save lives…
