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Prompt: "I'm your husband. It's my job". Congrats on 300!!
Prompts are currently closed while I catch up. I will announce when I am open! :)
A/N: I hope you donât mind, Miinah, but this prompt was a perfect excuse to do the prologue for my single dad au, which is theoretically happier than your single dad au. Not exactly Obiyuki - not yet. More like Obi x OC with the promise of improving on that later.
Wrinkly skin, beet red and shriveled up like a prune arounda scrunched up face. A soft swirl of black on a mostly bald head. Two feet, barelyrestrained by their swaddle, trying to kick off their hospital issued blanket.Ten tiny fingers, arched back and palms stretched out to the wide world.
Obi brushes his index across one of them andfive of those tiny digits wrap around his whole heart.
âWow.â He can hardly believe this is his ownvoice, the way it is so giddy and high. âHeâs so strong.â
Aki grunts in response, pale eyes startled andunfocused, head wobbling as he rolls his head this way and that across thecrook of Obiâs arm.
âIs there something wrong with his eyes?âAngela asks, fretful, from her hospital bed. âHe didnât really look at me andnow heâs not looking at Obi, either.â
Dr. Sakimoto is reading something off of themonitor and doesnât really even look at them. âProbably not,â he says absently,ticking a couple of notes off on his clipboard, and the tone would annoy Obi ifhe didnât⊠understand. Theyâre 18. If they werenât responsible enough to listen in Sex Ed, why would they bother being responsible enough to listen now? âYour-â
âHusband,â Obi supplies, sitting up a littlestraighter, hoping he looks th role.
âHmm, yes, husband.â The doctor clucks his tongue.âHis face is too far away.â
They both blink at him.Â
âSo I should⊠movecloser?â Obi ventures.
âYes, I mean-â Dr. Sakmito squeezes the bridgeof his nose and props the clipboard against his hip. From the sound of things, theyâre idiots for not knowing this already. âNewborns canât reallydistinguish shapes at this point so he wonât make eye contact with you for a monthor so. But he can see light. And hear your voice.â
âOh.â Chest swelling with purpose, Obi leansin until his forehead just brushes the soft down of his sonâs- oh god, his sonâs- hair. âHi, buddy,â Obiwhispers, bobbing the finger that is still trapped in its tiny vice up and down.âHi.â
Akiâs head wobbles, eyes wide, and Obi thinksâ he thinks â that those pale eyesfocus on his. Just for a second. Maybe.
âI still canât believe heâs here,â Obiwhispers, smile taking up his whole face as he lifts his head up, but thedoctor- Well, heâs gone. Slipped out while he was distracted. Obiâs smile wiltsa little at the edge, eyes sliding from the door to where Angela watches him,suspiciously silent.
Faintly, she replies, âMe, neither.â
Her face is still pale, ashen, and sheâs notlooking at him. Not even smiling, really. But he supposes that makes sense. Ifhe had to do what she just did, he doubt heâd be smiling either. Shifting Akiin his arms, he leans over the bed, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.
âYou did great, babe.â
Sheâs watching Aki with nothing short of shock as Obi passes him back to her. And sheâs still a little awkward, the way her eyes widen inalarm, her arms tense as plywood that he has to help arrange to properly supportAkiâs head.
âJust like that,â he murmurs. âJust like the nurseshowed us.â
Her smooth brow crinkles, distressed. âTheyârejust⊠going to let us take it home?â
Barking out a laugh, Obi perches his hip on theside of her bed, hooking his arm around her shoulder. âLooks to be that way.â
âHave they met me?â The question comes out like a joke, but is strained like a legitimate question.
Tilting his head, Obi waits until her eyescatch his, flickering away and then shyly back. âYouâre already a great mom,âhe says, so soft. âJust look at how perfect he is.â
This was the wrong thing to say, apparently.
âObi.â Clear blue eyes round with a fear hedoesnât understand, voice high pitched and hesitant and scared, and her arms stiffenawkwardly around the little goblin rooting against her hospital gown. âI donâtknow how I am going to do this.â
His heart lurches and- heâs scared, too.Thatâs what he wants to say.
âYouâre not going to be in it alone, babe,â hewhispers instead, because thatâs what men should do when their wives are scared, and he squeezes her near. Rubbing her shoulder, he rests his cheek on hercrown. âIâm here.â
This close, he can feel the heave of her backagainst his arm; the quick pace of shallow breath moving in and out. âYea, buthow are we-â
âIâll take care of it,â he assures them both,pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. Itâs still a little sweaty and the salt of her skin lingers on his lips. âIâmyour husband. Itâs my job to take care of you.â
~ ~ ~
âThis was a mistake.â
Angelaâs baby blues are rimmed in red andbruised with exhaustion. Akiâs pressed up against her breast but sheâs stillwearing the same clothes she was when he left the house hours ago. The sameclothes she was wearing yesterday. And Obi is standing there, at theirthreshold, in a food soiled uniform and the house keys still in hishand.
âNo, no, no.â Heâs across the room, on hisknees and in front of their couch in a breath. A brightly colored piece of plastic digsinto his shin and he ignores it, smoothing back her tangled hair â itâs greasy â twinstreams pouring from her eyes like he just turned on the faucet. âNone of this wasa mistake. This is just thatâ what did the doctor call it? â that postpartumdepression. Yea. You should call the hospital and see if they have anyone totalk to.â
A dry huff of air escapes her with no humorand Aki grunts, disturbed. âWith what, Obi? Doctors cost money.â
He grits his teeth around his smile, a jolt ofpain stabbing him cleanly in the gut. âWe can figure it out,â he tries. âThe SuperBowl is coming up and Iâll probably get good tips then.â
Eyes squeezing shut, she shakes her head. âYouwould going to use that money to fix the car, remember?â
The pain is in his lungs now, creeping deepbeneath his shoulder blade. âIâll just⊠walk for a bit. You know, until weâresaved up.â
Her voice may as well be a scream for the wayit rattles between his ears. âAnd leave me alone with him even longer? I donât get any time by myself as it is.â
âBabe-â The air punches out of him and hegrasps at the cushions on either side of her thighs to stay upright. âMaybe you could ask your sisterâŠ?â
âShe works almost as much as you and you know it,â Angela snaps.
His face flinches, eyes dropping to where those long slender fingers of hers pat against Akiâs back. The paint on her nails are fresh. Tiffany blue. âI donât-â he licks his lips, searching for words. âI donât know what you want.â
âYou promised.âSheâs so quiet, the countenance of her voice every bit as sweet as her name, but it comes out as a hiss. âYou promised me you would take careof everything.â
His head snaps up, and sheâs- sheâs blurrierthan he likes. âI am,â he promisesagain. âI will. Itâs fine, babe.Weâre gonna be- just fine. This is just a little rough patch.â
âA rough-â She bites down on her tongue,shifting Aki from her breast to her shoulder. âWeâre not, Obi, arenât you even listening?â
âJust you wait, itâll get better.â Taking herface between his palms, he brushes his thumbs down her cool cheeks. Itâsheartening, somewhat, that she doesnât pull away.
âI just-â She stares at the wall as if itmight have better answers than he has. Maybe it does. âI feel so trapped. Ididnât think it would be like thisâŠâ
Heart lurching in his throat, he rests hishand on top of hers where it smooths down Akiâs back. âIâll take care ofeverything,â he whispers, fierce. âJust focus on Aki.â
That finally gets her. That finally makes herlook at him, beseeching. âHow, though? How will it get better?â
He doesnât know.
âJust leave it to me. Iâm your husband,remember?â he grins, spreading his lips so broad it hurts. âItâs my job!â
~ ~ ~
He tries. He tries and he tries and he tries, but nothing seems to work.
Each day, he comes home with news of failure. Each day, he drags his stomach over the threshold with no more salary than he had the day before.
And this, in the end, is how she chooses to greet him not twoweeks later.
~ ~ ~
âWhere have you been?!â The words stab him inthe ear, and between his bone weary exhaustion and her ire, he doesnât think he can take another step. âIâve been calling!â
âI was at work, remember?â he answers numbly,toeing off his boots. Sharp shards of glass travel up the soles of his feet tohis calves and then his knees. Somewhere in the apartment, Aki is crying. âAndmy phone died.â
This does little to satisfy her. He thinks hemight have made her angrier.
âSo Iâmhere, taking care of your son, andyou canât even bring a charger?â
âI know,â he breathes, weary. Sheâs right.âYouâre right. Iâm sorry. Iâll pack it in my bag from now on.â
âWhat makes you think thereâs going to be anext time?â Sheâs right up in his face, eyes blazing, and that- that gets hisattention. He only just manages not to take a step back. âDo you think Iâm justgoing to stick around, like some- some cow,pumping out milk all day every day while youâre out on the town?!â
Itâs not like heâs out there to have fun, is what he wants to say. It isnât what he actually says.
âNo,â he sighs, shaking his head. âOf coursenot. I just didnât want to put pressure on you by-â
âStop making excuses. You do nothing but put pressure on me, Obi!â Her ponytail nearly slaps him in theface when she turns from him with an aggravated groan, knocking over a lamp when it catches on her oversized sweater. It hits the ground with a crash, the light bulb flickering outand Akiâs cries turn into shrieks in the bedroom.Angela looks back at it over her shoulder, her mouth slightly agape, staring wherethe blue polished porcelain split in two.
âLookwhat you did!â she yells.
He didnât- hedidnât- she did, but⊠itâs not worth arguing about. Not today. Maybe not ever. âIâll see if I can findsomething at the Goodwill tomorrow.â
Angela snorts. âThatâs just like you,â shegrumbles, crossing her arms, and it strikes him that sheâs- sheâs dressed up.Sheâs dressed like sheâs ready to go out.âAlways trying to fix the mess you made. But let me tell you something, Obi,some things canât be fixed.â
âIknow.âÂ
He didnât want this- not for his son. He thought- he thought he wasgoing to do this better. Thought he was going to do this right.Â
He shakes himself.
No. They can still do this right. Only if he tries harder.Â
âBut weâre working for what we want, remember?â He rubs the back of his head and smiles. âWeârebuilding a home!â
âInever wanted this!â she screams, rounding on him with an accusing finger andAki- he screeches. âYou wanted this! Iwanted to be a teenager and go to parties and meet new people! I canât do any of that with an infant, Obi! And Ishouldnât have to be responsible for something I didnât even want!â
Itâs hard to breath - so hard - but, gently, slowly, with barely trembling hands, he wraps his hand around heroutstretched one, cupping it with the other and holding it safely against his chest.Â
âBabe,â he tries again. âYou canhave all that. Let me just see what I can figure out with work and I-â
âIâmdone waiting,â she says, so flat. Yanking her hand out of his, Angela shoulders past him, flinging the door open.
âWait-âhe says. âWhat about-â
âYoufigure it out,â she snaps over her shoulder, right before the door slams shut in her wake. âYouâre the husband here. Isnâtthat your job?â
~~ ~
He doesnât know what time it is. Maybe 1? 2? Morning or afternoon, it doesnât really matter.Â
Akiâscries are soft and fussy, a threat of things to come, and Obi stumbles out ofthe bedroom and into the kitchen. Catching his bare toe against the kitchentable, he cusses a blue streak under his breath, hopping the last few steps tothe stove.
Hiseyes are barely open, hands flailing aimlessly until they slam the stove lamp on.
Thelight barely improves the situation. Flinching, he squishes his face shut against it,running his hands blindly across the countertop. Fingers bump against pots andpans and knock over plastic bottles until-
Plasticcrinkles under his hand.
Squintinghis eyes open, Obi frowns, confused. It takes much longer than it should torecognize the packaging, the bright blue and pink and black with a wave ofwhite.
âWhat?âhe mutters to no one, lifting it up.
DOUBLESTUFFED OREOS! scream back at him in big, happy letters. FAMILY SIZED!
Heâsawake instantly, twirling on his heel, eyes scanning the dark-
Asmall lump is curled up on the couch, still fully dressed and turned towardsthe seat cushions. Her shirt is riding up, her bare back exposed to the chill,and she shivers.
Obibreathes out a sigh of relief.
Paddingacross the room, he grabs a blanket along the way and fans it over her. Tuckingit all the way up to her chin, Obi hesitates. Her hair curls across her cheeks,some of those wild, sun kissed waves caught in the corner of her mouth. Smiling, he slowly,carefully, brushes it away, pressing a kiss to her temple.
The panic in his heart slowly unravels. Shejust-
She just needed time. Thatâs all. Things were already getting better. In the meantime, he would just have to tryharder.
~~ ~
Takingthe third story apartment may have been a mistake on his part.
It seemed a smart choice at the time. Harder for burglars to get to. No upstairs neighbors clomping around. Further from the street noise.
But days like today, he has- regrets.
Grunting,Obi trudges up the stairs, plastic handles biting into his skin and cutting offthe circulation to his fingers. Each step feels heavier than the last, but whiffs of slowly defrosting food chases him steadily home.
Hisshirt is plastered to his back by the time he reaches the top of the stairs,the humidity thick and promising rain. Staring out over the balcony, he thinkshe really needs to get that car fixed if heâs going to survive the summer.
Freeingone arm of its load is easy. Fishing his keys out of his pockets and gettingthe door open, even easier. But itâs picking those bags back up thatâs the hardpart.
Justa few more steps and-
Theair feels stale when the door clicks shut behind him, like the A/C hasnât beenon all day. He frowns, worried that it went out again - that he was going to have to have words with the property manager - when it occurs to him thatthe house is⊠quiet. Not even the dull hum of the TV is there to drown out the carspassing outside.
âHello?âhe winces at the sound of his own voice. âBabe?â he tries again, softer.
Maybethey were sleeping.
Kickingoff his shoes, Obi scans the living room as if in slow motion. Itâs cleanerthan yesterday. Lighter. It reminds him of that time someone had robbed the place that he had been crashing at. There hadnât been a lot to take, but if it was worth five bucks, they had taken it.Â
But this isnât- isnât that. Not precisely.
Akiâs toys still lay about. The kitchen sink is still full of dirty dishes. Laundry still needs to be done and the TV is still there. But still- something is.. amiss.
Shaking off the odd feeling, Obi unloads everything onto the kitchen counter. The little bouquet chrysanthemums, bruised and a little bare, peak out from the mound of plastic bags. Smiling to himself, he gently extracts them and tip toes towards the bedroom.
Bypassing every creaky floorboard is a talent he has honed over years - not his favorite thing to think about, but at times like these it does have its advantages. Heâs still as good as ever, he thinks, when he presses his ear to the bedroom door and thereâs no indication that a soul is stirring on the other side. Tilting his shoulder into it with a grin, thedoor slow creaks open, but itâs-
Itâs bare.
Well, not bare exactly. The window is open, a slow summer breeze creeping in through the curtains. The bed is, as always, unmade. But still, no Angela flung across itâs rumpled sheets. No Aki passed out on his back in his crib.
Against all reason, hisheart rate doubles in tempo and he- he slowly exhales to smooth it out. Peeking over his shoulder, he breathes even easier. The stroller is gone from its place by the front door. They must have just goneout- for a walk. Or something. With the A/C out, the apartment might as well bean oven.
Settingthe flowers on the dresser â heâll find some water to put them in in a minute âObi strips off his shirt and opens the closet for a fresh one.
Halfof it is empty.
Later, if someone asked him what he did next, he wouldnât have been able to tell them. He knows that he felt⊠cold. A particular type of chill that he couldnât shake for weeks after, no matter how hot the day. And that he checked under the bed and found that ratty thrift store suitcase was gone. He knows he looked for his jar of tips and that only the change remained. He knows he stalked outto the kitchen, hands trembling, and picked up his phone from where he leftit next to the groceries.Â
He knows that there were no missed messages.
Obiâs hands are flying over the screen of his phone, and he has just pulled up Angelaâs number when a note on the fridge catches his eyes, the script painfully familiar.
We went over to my sisters.
Thatâs it. Nothing else.
Itâslike falling down a hole, that feeling. Maybe thatâs what people call tunnel vision is - he doesnât know. But in the next moment, heâs hitting the green call button, only the sound of the phone ringing and the blood rushing in his ears to remind him that heâs human.
The receiver on the other end picks up, and before anyone can say anything, a babyâs malcontent fussing bleeds through the speaker.Â
Heâs knees nearly give out. He wants to let them. Thereâs more pressing matters at hand, though; like getting his heart started. Itâs dead, the cavern of his chest still and quiet.
âWhere the hell have you been?â The woman on the other end is - understandably - annoyed, but not as much as she is confused. âAngela ask meto just watch him for an hour! Iâve got to go to work soon and I canât build my empire with an infant on my hip.â
Obi doesnât know if he wants to laugh or cry, but what comes out of his mouth does not belong to him. Itâs too loud, sounds too much like hisfatherâs when he snaps, âWhereâs my son?â
âHere?With me?â Torouâs voice tilts up in confusion and Obi almost faints from relief. Whatever irritation was left in her fades to worry. âObi, whatâs going on?â
âIâmcoming over.â
~~ ~
Heâspanting when he presses the call button at Torouâs apartment. Then again. Andagain and again.
âIâmhere, Iâm here! Just a minute, oh my god.â
The lock gives a harsh buzz and click and he flies through the lobby and up the stairs, taking two at a time. When he reaches her floor, Torou is already standing in the open door, phone in hand. âIâve been trying to call her but sheâs not pickingup! I texted, too, and-â
Obiâsjaw sets, shouldering past her.
âHejust fell asleep, Obi. Donât-â
Hecomes up short, just inside her living room, and finally- finally- his heart starts up again when he sees that tiny little body with its sweaty mess of dark curls curled up on thecouch. Obi only makes it two more wobbling steps before he falls to his knees at the edge of it.
Itâsfine- itâs fine- Aki is fine.
âObi.â
He touches his lips to Akiâs crown and takes a deep, slow inhale, drawing the smell of him into his lungs, before releasing it all in a shaky rush of air.Â
Torou is standing there in the doorway when he finally looks up, her face torn between anger andconfusion and not uncertainty about which is more important. âWhat the fuck is going on?â
Funny, he would like to know the answer to that, too. âWe had a fight last night,â he says, because thatâs all he has to offer.
She snorts and itâs- itâs too much like her sisters to not make his stomach churn. âWhatelse is new?â
âButI thought we had it figured out,â he says, lost. âShe even apologized, sorta. She got mad and left but then she came back and left me some cookies. Double stuffed, even. Theyâre her favorite.â
Torouâs expression looks far too much like pity for his comfort.
Pressing his lips together, Obi flops onto his seat on the floor, and pulls the phone out from his pocket. It takes no time at all to pull her name back up, to press send.Â
It goes straight to voicemail.
âItold you,â Torou says softly, kneeling in front of him with that- that same awful expression. âSheâs not answeringâ
Thumbflying over the keyboard, Obi grumbles, âLike hell sheâs not.â
where r u?angela pick up the phonepls
The minutes tick by, his strange standoff with Torou getting more and more hopeless with every second. He draws up his knees, eyes stinging like heâs got something in them, and heâs about to fall apart right here in his sister-in-laws living room when- the phone vibrates. Just once, then several more times in rapid succession.
He swipes if off the floor before Torou can even get it in her to tell him to stop.
leave me alonei need space!i told u, iâm notready for this!iâll be back soon
Obi thinks he might vomit. Right here. Right now.
But Angela, she- sheâs been so stressed. Maybe this is what she needs. Maybe this is what has to happen so she can get better. Can be a better mother.Â
when
i donât knowjustsoon okay?i gtgdonât call me againiâm srry
~ ~ ~Â
Obi doesnât know how much time has passed, how long he has been there with his knees up to his elbows and head hung between his legs, but he likes to imagine that itâs been a while.Â
The phone, laying guiltlessly between his feet, slides across the carpet into a pair of slim hands. Torou reads it. He watches her read it. The way the furrow between her brow slowly eases, replaced by the slow arch of two well shaped eyebrows. For some reason she doesnât look surprised. Just angry.Â
Maybe she has right to be. He didnât follow through with his promise to her sister, after all.
âWhatthe fuck?â Torou mouths, then winces, her gaze darting over to Aki and then back to him. âSorry.â
His mouth gapes slightly. âDonât worry about it.âÂ
His face⊠It must look a mess, because hers twists uncomfortably before dropping to read the messages again. âWhat does she mean?â Torou asks. âDoesshe just⊠expect you to figure this out on your own?â
Obi hears each and every noisy little breath escaping Akiâs lungs behind him. Starts to reorganize every step of his day from here on out because to think- to do- anything else about any of this might break him.
âOf courseshe does,â he croaks. Already, the world feels ten times heavier. âIâm herhusband. Itâs my job.â
miinah13 replied to your post âFirst and Lastâ
Gosh, this was so beautiful! I can't find the words to say but I love this so so much. I've read it like 5 times already back to back. I really love Obi just holding on but that line "But to the voice that reaches out for him, he will always go." Theres something else for him now and it really is goodbye.
Iâm so so glad you liked it! For all the sobbing Iâve done over that comic series of yours, I am glad I could write something that you would enjoy. I figured that if there was anyone, anyone at all, that Obi would leave Shirayukiâs side for if they called, it would be their kid because thatâs a whole different kind of love all together.
Thanks again for the tears hopefully I managed to give you some too <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
@miinah13 I woke up with this snippet in my head. It's yours.
"What did you do," Mukaze asked, "before you came to the castle?"
Obi had always known he'd ask someday, but even after all these years he could still feel her fingers against his mouth, trying to hold back the truth. But it was time. If he asked the question, he was ready for the answer.
"I tried to kill your mother," he answered. "And she rescued me."