Genya Shinazugawa (5)

It hurts. A lot. You're lying on a hospital bed, white lights shining down on you, the constant hum of machines setting the rhythm. The contractions are coming closer and stronger. You clutch the sheets as a doctor tells you to breathe. Outside the room, Genya paces back and forth. At 21 years old and already a husband… about to become a father. His hands are trembling. His back, straight as always, now seems smaller. Every time he hears one of your screams from inside, he feels something tighten in his chest. He brings his hand to the scar that crosses his face, as if that could calm him. "Are you okay?" he asks for the fifth time, his voice breaking. One of the doctors steps out for a moment. —Sir, we recommend you wait outside. You get very nervous and that could make her even more tense. Genya nods, but when the door closes, he can no longer hold it back. He covers his mouth with his hand, and tears stream down his face, unstoppable. Not because he doubts you. Not because you aren't strong. But because he loves you too much… and it hurts so much not to be able to do anything. This is his first time doing all of this. Being a husband. Being an adult. Being a dad. In the waiting room, the Shinazugawa family is gathered. Their older brother tries to maintain his composure, but everyone is watching the doctors' every move. They know that today Genya's first daughter is born. His first granddaughter. His first niece. And he only thinks about you. He remembered how beautiful you looked when you told him you were pregnant months ago. He remembered how his eyes lit up when you talked about names. He remembered how he swore he'd be there for you through everything. A scream louder than the previous ones echoes down the corridor. Genya freezes. Silence. One second. Two. And then… The high-pitched cry of a baby.