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the_big_ol_book_o_stories2022-09-11 12:42 am
getting_better) wrote in the_big_ol_book_o_stories2022-09-11 12:42 am
For Shiho
[ Once, his very presence was cause for concern of hundreds of powerful and terrifying people. Once, the shadows of his wings were an omen for certain death. Once, he resigned himself to a life muddled by sorrow, blood, and suffering. Once, he was a dead man walking.
Now, the guns unloaded and put away, the blade resigned to a display ornament locked behind a glass case, the horrid bitter memories are still there but no longer at the forefront. Now he sleeps in a warm bed, in a nice home, next to a woman who crashed into his life and derailed him from what he believed to be his "fate". It was clear that "fate" no longer had a place in his life.
He was a person, a being, someone who can smile, laugh, cry, and rest whenever he needed to. Whenever he wanted to. His name is Samuel Sannomiya-Mercer, the dutiful and loving husband to Shiho Sannomiya-Mercer. Ten years have passed since they tied that knot, eight since he started his business, and seven months since they both decided that it was time for their little family of two to become bigger and after going through the necessary procedures - that plan was well on it's way.
Ecstatic doesn't even come close to how he felt, there were no words in fact, that he could say that could capture the moment they found that she was with child - his child.....And there was even less when the joy had turned into a quiet existential dread as the word "Father" fell on him like a ton of bricks. The days in his office were spent in a solemn haze as fifteen thousand thoughts and concerns raced through his mind, often looping around themselves. Now he sits in a painted room, the third coat and color he'd applied this week. It started of pastel blue on a Monday, by Wednesday it was a minty green, and today - Thursday, it was a sweet lilac. He stared at the wall as if it had caused him some offense and said - ]
....How did I even get this color? I'm pretty sure I meant this to be pink.
...
What the hell did it say on the can?
[ Grumbling, he turned on the floor where he sat cross legged, paint covered shirt and old jeans, used rollers and brushes next to him as was a dozen cans of opened and unopened paint. The furniture that was already in the room were moved to the hall, AGAIN, so he can do this nonesense. Repainting the room, not glaring at a can that has some ridiculously long pretentious name which he thought meant pink, not pale purple. ]
Now, the guns unloaded and put away, the blade resigned to a display ornament locked behind a glass case, the horrid bitter memories are still there but no longer at the forefront. Now he sleeps in a warm bed, in a nice home, next to a woman who crashed into his life and derailed him from what he believed to be his "fate". It was clear that "fate" no longer had a place in his life.
He was a person, a being, someone who can smile, laugh, cry, and rest whenever he needed to. Whenever he wanted to. His name is Samuel Sannomiya-Mercer, the dutiful and loving husband to Shiho Sannomiya-Mercer. Ten years have passed since they tied that knot, eight since he started his business, and seven months since they both decided that it was time for their little family of two to become bigger and after going through the necessary procedures - that plan was well on it's way.
Ecstatic doesn't even come close to how he felt, there were no words in fact, that he could say that could capture the moment they found that she was with child - his child.....And there was even less when the joy had turned into a quiet existential dread as the word "Father" fell on him like a ton of bricks. The days in his office were spent in a solemn haze as fifteen thousand thoughts and concerns raced through his mind, often looping around themselves. Now he sits in a painted room, the third coat and color he'd applied this week. It started of pastel blue on a Monday, by Wednesday it was a minty green, and today - Thursday, it was a sweet lilac. He stared at the wall as if it had caused him some offense and said - ]
....How did I even get this color? I'm pretty sure I meant this to be pink.
...
What the hell did it say on the can?
[ Grumbling, he turned on the floor where he sat cross legged, paint covered shirt and old jeans, used rollers and brushes next to him as was a dozen cans of opened and unopened paint. The furniture that was already in the room were moved to the hall, AGAIN, so he can do this nonesense. Repainting the room, not glaring at a can that has some ridiculously long pretentious name which he thought meant pink, not pale purple. ]
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Desmond?
[Shiho doesn't fall into the memory but she can't help but want to take a peek.]
Why Desmond?
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We'll the medic that was with me, an older guy and...I he was a corporal or something, anyway - he and I were in a bad way. I got hit in the leg and couldn't move, then I got seperated from my unit and this guy stayed with me.
[ Night time, like any operation. There's a brief flash of the exact moment Sam described, a sudden numbness in his leg as he went flying from an explosion then crawling behind the remains of a truck for cover. Minutes later there's someone else on top of him speaking with a strong southern accent telling him he'll be okay and hitting him with some morphine while he raised his rifle and fired at whatever so much as twitched in their general direction. ]
It was hours before we finally got the word someone was gonna fish us out but, the whole while this guy kept telling me we're gonna be okay, we're gonna be okay. It was I think early in the morning when he told me about a medic in a war far before my time named Desmond Doss.
This guy didn't carry a gun because of his beliefs, but he willingly jumped straight into the frontlines, right alongside his fellow soldiers, but instead of taking lives he was saving them. Jumping in and out of combat, carrying a wounded soldier one after the other for hours and hours on end. Through the night, through the hellscape of war, machinegun fire and excruciating pain and weariness, Desmond Doss did everything and anything he can to save people, saving even enemy soldiers if he can. He was there, and saved dozens of not hundreds of men who would have died or had particaly given up. He lived through three campaigns and had a son.
[ He smiled. ]
We were saved shortly after, and the story stuck with me. I thought "This Doss guy must have been one crazy sonuvabitch to do that", but his story resonated with me. I told myself that if ever made it through my fight, I'd name my first son after him with the hopes he becomes like Desmond. The first hero I had in a long time. A real, feeble, but extra ordinary human being.
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[Shiho listens quietly, humming worriedly at some parts because she didn't like even the thought that he'd been injured, that he'd had to suffer even the tiniest bit. Then the hum is an encouraging one, since this is clearly important to him and if telling helps him then she's happy to be a listening ear, to help share the weight of this story.
And when he's done she leans against him, thinking about Sam's life, about all that had led him here, his hopes, his dreams, their life, their child.
Their hope. A real, feeble, extraordinary human being. And she smiles back at him, one hand coming up to stroke his cheek.]
...I like that. [Well maybe she wouldn't want her child to have to fight in a war BUT
the idea of them being brave, being the kind of person who always helped people... she liked that a lot.]
...Maybe it would be better if we had a cute boy first then.
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A girl would be nice too! I'm just saying, I have a name. Just in case.
[ He rubbed at her stomach, gently drawing circles while cradling the child inside. ]
She can be Desmondina! Keep up with the theme.
[ He's joking. Or is he?
No, he is. She may actually kill him if he was serious about that, or at the very least maim him. ]
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[Her hand curls slightly to gently press his other cheek to hers, keeping the two of them as physically close as possible.]
Desmondina isn't allowed. [She says it matter-of-factly, smiling as she does. She won't kill him if he does do it... but there will be, not just Words but WORDS.]
Think of a cute one for a girl.
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Of course, dear.
[ He has thought of a few, Japanese mostly, but he hasn't settled on one. There's so many he wants for a daughter of his, happiness, beauty, wisdom, and luck, but he can't settle on a name that would really satisfy him. ]
Do you have a preference?
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[A line she definitely wouldn't let him cross, especially when she's the one pregnant with and carrying his child. She deserves to be a little bit bossy!]
Hm... something to do with birds, maybe? [Shiho is terrible at names, why is she being asked this]
Um... or Hina? Asuka? [So it could have a double meaning of beauty but also "flying bird"? Is that too on the nose... Shiho wrinkles hers... but Asuka does have a nice ring to it.]
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[ He thinks about the birds he knows and likes and he has to push the temptation of just naming her after an owl or "little bird" out of his mind and seriously consider a name. Names, after all, have serious meaning to him. From "Bishop" to "Joe" to "Sam Mercer" to the one he uses now, names should be something that is seriously considered and worn with pride and a little responsiblity. "Desmondina" being put to the side at least.
He starts to sway from side to side and matching his winding thoughts before slowly coming to a stop. ]
....Mitsuru. [ He says with the kanji popping up in his head. ] Written with the characters for "benevolence" and "crane".
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[Shiho leans against him, letting him sway from side to side as she sifts through his thoughts with him. The name sounds good in her mind but she tests it out loud anyway:]
Mitsuru... Sannomiya-Mercer... or Desmond Sannomiya-Mercer... [And then she smiles, quick and warm.] I like it.
[also you're welcome, small child, for saving you from "Desmondina".]
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Really? I was wondering of the "crane" in the name was a bit...dramatic.
[ He was gonna say embarassing, given the way it's written. ]
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[It's at this point that the baby kicks again, right against his hand. Shiho giggles, pressing his hand gently with hers.]
I think baby approves.
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[ He means the cool guy or girl. The heart throb or the one that's always out people's reach. Given, he too was out of certain people's reach for a very long time but for completely different reasons. To this day the CIA still can't find him. ]
The baby could also be saying they're hungry. That could also be possible.
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Well, I am feeling kind of hungry, maybe the baby is picking up on it. Are you going to make us something to eat? Dear?
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[ He was troubled when they first met, not to mention of questionable sanity at the time. ]
Of course I am. [ As if he would deny cooking. ] What do you want to eat?
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Hm... normally I'd say that I want a three course omakase meal... but I guess this time I'll make do with udon. It's summer though so I want it cold. With a dipping sauce. And tempura.
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[ Quickly he runs through the list of ingredients in the refridgerator and pantry, though it's less a list and a visualization of everything inside. Even the ice cream that's hidden out in the corner which he doesn't remember if he got or she got. ]
Any particular kind of tempura?
[ And how much of it? She is eating for two now. ]
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Pumpkin. [Yes it’s summer, yes she wants pumpkin
She smiles up at him, cheerful and unrepentant.]
Ah, and I also want shishito pepper tempura~ And maybe fried chicken? And pickles and rice.
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That's his biggest concern, the appetite she has isn't remotely surprising anymore but the things she asks for are very out there. I guess that's what he gets for being able to cook anything and everything.
Suddenly he remembered that, back in the restaurant, they have some pumpkins in stock but those are for the restaurant. But his wife his asking.
And now the different Sam's in his head are debating which to prioritize. ]
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[That makes it two against one? Besides, their baby needs nourishment and she's sure Sam is smart enough to make changes to the menu.]
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"But what about the client?!" Screamed one logical Sam fragment, and he was quickly jumped, hogtied, and thrown in the broom closet by five other facets of his brain. Stupid logic. ]
Right, like I said. I'll be right back. Love you both.
[ He kisses her on the cheek, before carefully scrambling to his feet and rushing to find his keys. ]
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With that done, she’ll get to him before he leaves to pull him into a lingering kiss at the door.]
...Love you.
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He smiles at her, pausing to see the same lights in her eyes that he fell in love with....then everything fast forwards as he makes a dash for the stairs, then the shoe rack, before remembering that he passed the key rack and that he should be headed to the garage where the car is parked, not rush out the front door and run to the restaurant. Though he could do that.
He'll return an hour or so later, rushing through the house like his head was on fire and rushing straight for the kitchen. ]
Honey, I'm home! Making food!
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She's giggling about it when he crashes back in and she pokes her head over the couch to watch.]
Welcome home~
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Not the color of the room, which is probably going to be a soft green color if the color wheelmis being followed, but the food. Out comes the pans, the plastic bags of udon and tempura flour, bonito, soy sauce bottles, mirin, sake - which he puts back because he got the drinking sake he shared with dad one day and got the cooking sake, and he laid them all out on the kitchen counter.
If any of his employees saw how everything was pilled in such a chaotic way, they'd kick him out of his own kitchen and do it themselves. But there's order to this chaos, because where else would a chaotic mind thrive, and soon he's already stepping on some plastic wrapped udon dough while preparing the dashi. ]