The Wedding (Gift)

Part V of The Wedding Series.

"Should we keep this?" his wife's voice piped from downstairs. Natsume Hyuuga leaned across the bedroom railings and peered at Mikan, surrounded by boxes and wrapping paper. Right now she was holding a blue hand-painted porcelain teapot with two matching cups.

Even though they limited their wedding guests to close friends and immediate family, it was no doubt that people who befriended Mikan and admired Natsume wanted to wish them a happy marriage. More than half the gifts they received were delivered even before their wedding two days ago, from people who weren't at the wedding. Currently, their loft was a mess. There were boxes of all sizes scattered, their suitcases were still unpacked, and their wedding paraphernalia were still dumped on the sofa. They couldn't even eat on the dining table because atop of it was gifts they were planning to keep, so they had to resort to eating on the kitchen counter.

"That's our fifth teapot and I don't even like tea. I also told you to not tear the wrapping paper, remember? It's bad luck."

"I don't believe in bad luck," Mikan rolled her eyes. She put the teapot back in the box and placed it in a bigger one labeled 'For donations'. "They said crossing paths with a black cat was unlucky, but look at where it's got me!"

Natsume stared at her with an arched brow. "Married to a psychopath?"

"Oh, you're not a psychopath, darling. You're a sociopath." Seeing Natsume's scowl, she loudly guffawed. "I'm kidding. Come downstairs and help me with this."

Natsume logged off his laptop and placed it back on the bed. Work could wait for another day. He sauntered down the stairs and saw Mikan struggling to pull a big rectangular box from the pile of unopened gifts. They had unintentionally left the gift-unwrapping for later, as they both decided to just relax after the wedding. "Who's that from?" he asked, helping her.

Mikan peered at the tag. "'We hope you won't take long. Best wishes, Hotaru and Ruka.'" She looked at him in confusion. "Your best friend's weird."

"Let's not get started on this again," Natsume muttered, remembering their last argument when he confessed about what really happened to her wedding dress.

"My best friend happened to fix my torn wedding dress which your best friend let happen."

"It was everyone's fault," he retorted. "And, anyway, your best friend cost me another extra because she ordered crab roe for herself. She didn't even share."

"You know Hotaru's allergic to chicken, but you insisted on chicken cilantro anyway."

"That's why we got the fish, remember? We couldn't get any more shellfish because of Yuu's allergy."

Mikan stopped unwrapping the gift and blinked at him. "Oh. Right."

"Natsume Hyuuga – 1, Mikan Hyuuga – 0," he snickered.

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to tear the wrapping off the box, much to Natsume's displeasure—but then they widened when she saw what the gift was. "It's a crib."

"'Won't take long'" Natsume snorted, "Real funny, your friend."

"That's not Hotaru's stationery," Mikan commented as she struggled with the cutter. "We should get a new one. This sucks."

"She put her name first. Of course that's Hotaru." He took the cutter from her. "No, you're just using it wrongly."

"Or, you know, Ruka's just a gentleman." She helped him open the box after he tore it open. "You're not the one opening gifts the whole afternoon."

"If he was such a gentleman, they would've got married first." He started hefting the wooden boards from the box. "You said you didn't want to cook."

"There was no race to begin with," she smartly echoed his words. She pointed at the boxes of food take-outs near the door. "You didn't either."

"Now look at this," Natsume said, admiring the disassembled crib. It was something Hotaru designed and constructed, and Ruka palpably painted on. Only Ruka would paint a big, fat Piyo on the headboard.

Mikan pointed at the Piyo painting. "I wonder how he got Hotaru to let him put that."

"I thought she liked Piyo? She took pretty nice pictures of Ruka with Piyo."

"Piyo's feathers blended too well with Ruka's hair."

Natsume stopped pulling the crib parts from the box. "Is that for real?"

Mikan rolled her eyes. "Elements of a good photo, duh. Seriously, Natsume, no wonder Hotaru argues with you." She picked up the wedding card from the discarded wrapping on the floor. "Are you going to argue with her about this, too?"

Natsume seemed puzzled for a moment, before Mikan pointed at the card again. We hope you won't take long.

"I know you want to enjoy married life," Mikan breathed deeply, trying to traipse on the topic as slowly and as gently as possible, "but it's been just us two for so long. Natsume, the only thing that changed is my name. It'd be nice to have someone else with us."

Natsume sighed and took a seat on one of the stools. He placed the cutter back on the table and tried to fold the torn papers, taking his time. Finally, he looked up at his wife, her eyes hopeful and her smile encouraging. He, however, felt the opposite. "I don't think I'm ready, you know? I've never had to take care of anyone before."

She knelt in front of him and gently clasped her hands around his closed fists. "You had Aoi. You're a great brother to her."

"You've forgotten that she was also taken away from me when I was a kid. When I saw her again, she was pretty much on her own."

"You must have done something good to earn Aoi's admiration. And Youichi! Don't tell me you didn't care for Youichi. He practically takes after you."

"But Mikan, a baby? It's different. You have to feed him, put him to sleep, read to him, change his diapers…"

"Come on, it's not like we haven't discussed it before. You liked the idea of having a baby Hyuuga. What changed things?"

Natsume sighed deeply, taking his hands from hers and running one of it through his hair. "I'm scared. What if my kid doesn't like me?" However, Natsume realized that wasn't the source of his apprehensions. He looked at his wife in the eyes, trying to convey his anxieties. "What if he turns out to be like me?"

Mikan smiled and tenderly held his cheek. It was a gesture that she always did, ever since she was a foolish, lovesick teenager. It never changed, and neither did her feelings. "What's wrong with that?"

"You know what I mean, Mikan. I'm not an easy person to love. Before you, I was a monster."

"Well you still were even when I came around," Mikan jokingly remarked.

"See?"

"Natsume , that was a joke," Mikan laughed and kissed him softly. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our kids will love you, because you are the bravest person in the world. They'll look up to you and say, I want to be just like my dad."

He shook his head. "No. They should take after their mother. Beautifully and amazingly unselfish." He added after a beat, "But of course they'd be good-looking like me."

"Careful, husband. They'd be in my tummy for nine months. I can make them hate you."

"You wouldn't."

"How sure are you?"

"As sure as the day I realized I love you."

Mikan grinned, but decided to take the matter back at hand. "Please, think it over? It'd be nice to see our kids' kids, and their kids, and their kids, and their kids…"

"How many grandchildren are you planning on seeing?"

"How many children do you plan on having?"

"You really want a baby?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright," he leaned it and kissed her deeply. This woman had been right next to him for so long. He could hardly call himself the perfect husband but for Mikan, he was enough. When he tore himself from her, he laughed at the sight: her eyes were closed, her lips were parted, and her cheeks were flushed. More than a decade later and they still have the same effect on each other. "But I can't guarantee I'd be the best dad."

"I'm not asking you to be."

"I might be pretty horrible at it."

"At least you're honest."

"I don't know how to change diapers."

"I don't either."

"I don't even know how to hold a baby."

"You'll learn. We'll learn together. We'll be awesome parents." She put her arms around him and held him tightly. "We'll be fine, Natsume. We'll have each other.

That's always been enough for us. A baby wouldn't be the end of the world."

He saw how bright her eyes were, and it was difficult to say no. "Come on," he said finally, pulling her towards the stairs, "Let's go talk to Mr. Stork."