The docks bustled as the large ship was tied down, and shoppers in the market street stopped to stare. A young black haired woman tensed, searching the faces of the men as they set things into order to start unloading.

“He’s not there,” the older man sighed.

She shot him an irritated look over her shoulder. “You don’t know that, Otousan! He said he would come back!”

The man simply looked tired and shook his head, but didn’t argue further.

She frowned at him for a moment before hurrying down to the docks, one hand on her slightly rounded belly, searching among the faces of men moving around her. A flash of a familiar face out of the corner of her eye caused her to turn quickly, his name half-formed on her lips, “Kazu—” It dribbled out to nothing as her eyes fell upon strangers, who didn’t even pause in their work.

“Oh!” She cried in surprise, as someone bumped in behind her. She spun again, to be greeted by the beet-red face of another young woman dressed in a dark-colored, light weight kimono, her hair a light shade of brown and eyes a pale, baby blue.

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologized in a rush, one hand clutching at the make-shift railing on gangplank, and the other supporting an extremely swollen stomach. She smiled weakly and added, “I’m afraid I lost my balance a little.”

“No, it’s my fault,” the black-haired woman replied with a shallow bow, “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stop staring at the woman’s stomach, and the other clearly noticed, appearing uncomfortable.

“I should go,” she said awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” the black-haired woman apologized again, awkwardly, “I was looking for someone, but…” She forced a smile, “My name is Tsunami. You… came in on the ship? Are you moving here?”

The brunette’s face was red again, and she looked back at the ship, as though confirming it was still there. “Yes, I… I mean, I needed a change of… I mean, for the baby,” she rubbed her stomach to emphasize the words, “I wanted someplace quiet and peaceful.”

Tsunami smiled, “Well, it certainly is quiet here. Do you have—I mean… are you meeting someone here?”

“No,” the other woman answered quickly, and flushed again, “I mean, ah, no. But I have a little money, and I know how to use a boat, I, um… the move was kind of a sudden decision.”

Tsunami offered her a sympathetic smile, “Well, if you and your little one need any help, let me know. I live with my father on the north side of town—just ask for Tazuna, everyone knows him. After all,” she patted her stomach again, “Our children will probably grow up together.”

The other woman’s eyes flickered down and then back up, and her expression softened a little. “You’re… thank you. Ah, my name… I mean, I’m Natsumi. I apologize if I seemed rude before; it has been a long trip. Do you… know of any place where I can rent a room? Just for a little while, until I can find something more permanent?” She blinked, her eyes widening, “Oh—sorry—that’s right, you were looking for someone!”

Tsunami smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think he’s here. It was a long shot anyway. But, if you need a place to stay for a few days… we have an extra room at our house.”

Natsumi looked at her uncertainly, “Are you sure it wouldn’t be a problem? But I can pay, and it would only be for a few days…”

“It’s no problem at all,” Tsunami assured her, smiling, “Please, come and meet my father. We’re just about done shopping, and I’m sure you want to get off your feet! You must be nearly to term!”

The other woman laughed once, “I wish. The doctors said it would be another month and a half, still.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Tsunami laughed, and pressed a pair of oranges into her friend’s basket.

Natsumi’s face was covered with a light pink blush, but she smiled, as well, and laughed a little nervously. “I know it was rude, but he was so persistent, I couldn’t think of any other way to get rid of him! Ooh—I need to sit down.”

They walked across to a small bench, and both pregnant women eased themselves down, setting their baskets on the ground beside them.

Tsunami sighed, “I never thought I’d be a single almost-mother at eighteen.”

“He might come back,” Natsumi offered, both hands holding her stomach and breathing a little heavy.

The black-haired woman shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she admitted unhappily. She massaged her swelling belly gently, “I wanted to believe he would… but the baby came as a shock to him, and he didn’t take it very well.” She laughed wryly and added, “He left the very next day, actually.” She sighed, “We were too young.”

Natsumi groaned, and her friend looked across at her with concern.

“Are you okay?” Tsunami asked worriedly.

The brunette shook her head, biting her lower lip. She tried to stand, but couldn’t quite manage it, clutching her stomach again. “I need to get home,” she muttered from gritted teeth.

Tsunami quickly pried herself up and offered the other woman a hand, wide-eyed. “Is this it? I mean, is the baby coming? We should see Basaki-sama—he’s delivered babies before!”

Natsumi shook her head, sweat was beading on her forehead, “I just want to go home. Please.”

Uneasily, Tsunami nodded, and offered the other woman her arm for support as they slowly headed out of town, groceries forgotten.

Tsunami tried to distract her friend with stories from her childhood on the island, but they weren’t very interesting and Natsumi periodically interrupted with gasps and jerks of pain, grasping her stomach protectively. In response, Tsunami would worriedly ask if she needed to stop, and carefully ask about going to Basaki-sama instead, but Natsumi’s response was always the same.

At last, they reached Natsumi’s home. It was a small hut that the three of them—Natsumi, Tsunami, and her father—had worked together to build shortly after Natsumi arrived. It had only two finished rooms, half a kitchen and a small empty room that mostly served as the woman’s bedroom, but Natsumi had insisted on moving in right away, anyway. Tsunami made a point to have her over at their house as much as possible, and her father was still working on plans to finish the house, once his helpers could actually help again.

In just over a month, Tsunami was sure she had never felt closer to anyone. In fact, it was Natsumi’s friendship that had finally allowed her to accept the fact that her boyfriend would not be returning for her and their baby. It was hard to be a single expecting mother on a small island where everyone knew your name. It was easier when you weren’t the only one.

Natsumi’s breath was coming in quick gasps as Tsunami eased her down onto her futon, and tears shone in her eyes as she clutched at her stomach, moaning.

“I’m going to get Otousan,” Tsunami announced, hurrying for the door as quickly as her heavily burdened body would allow her to move. Natsumi didn’t answer, and Tsunami quickened her pace, supporting her baby with her arms as she cut through the woods towards her father’s house.

Natsumi tended to avoid town, and people in general, so when Tazuna had suggested building the house north of theirs, the other woman had jumped on the offer. Tsunami didn’t think she had any friends, other than her and her father, and she was concerned about the rumors that were whispered around town. Natsumi didn’t seem to care about rumors, either, though. She simply insisted that all she wanted was a quiet home in which to raise her child.

“Otousan!” Tsunami shouted as she drew near the house. Luckily, her father was in the early stages of his current project, and spent most of his time pouring over sketches in his work room, so he was home even in the middle of the day. “Otousan!”

The door at the back of the house clapped open before she could reach it, and he stood in the doorway, looking worried, “Tsunami, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Natsumi,” she huffed, “The baby’s coming, I think, but she wouldn’t let me take her to Basaki-sama. She’s at home.”

He was taking off almost before she finished, running past her for the other girl’s house. “Grab some towels and meet me there!” He ordered hurriedly as he passed.

Tsunami allowed herself only a moment to catch her breath before hurrying to obey.

When she returned to the hut some ten minutes later, she was positive it was the baby. Natsumi’s face was red and strained, and she was arranged on her futon with her knees crooked and her muscles straining. Tazuna sat nearby, worrying.

They sat with her for hours as Natsumi struggled, panting and groaning and laboring. Both Tsunami and her father had tried to convince the other woman to let them call for Basaki, but Natsumi was steadfast in her denials, even drenched with soak and crying from pain and exhaustion.

At last, during the twilight hours, Tazuna cut the cord and the baby’s cry whined loud and piercing over Natsumi’s pants. Tsunami leaned in close to look, petting her exhausted friend’s hand, as her father worked to clean the squalling infant. By the time he had made it presentable, the baby had stopped crying, and he presented it to the two young women.

“Congratulations, Natsumi,” he murmured, smiling fondly as though it were his own grandchild, “It’s a boy.”

Tsunami smiled at the tiny infant—its face was red and blotchy, fingers curled into tiny little fists, and eyes firmly shut. His head had a downy covering of soft-looking light colored hair, and his delicate, pursed lips twitched a little.

“He’s adorable,” she murmured, feeling a rush of affection for her own unborn child and resting her hand over her engorged stomach. She looked towards her friend’s face expectantly.

Natsumi looked unusually somber, pale eyes taking in the child held before her.

“Thank you, both,” she said at last, voice tired and weak. “You’ve done so much for us… please, give him to me.”

Tazuna carefully settle the newborn infant into his mother’s waiting arms, and the woman looked down at him intently.

“What are you going to name him?” Tsunami asked at last, unable to wait any longer.

Natsumi was silent for a long time before answering. “Maruhi.”

Tsunami exchanged a quick, confused look at her father, but the older man simply shrugged.

The four of them slept there on the floor that night. Natsumi insisted they didn’t have to stay, but Tsunami and her father were a measure more insistent about staying, and the other woman was too tired to argue her case. For Tsunami, at least, it was a pleasant night, as her dreams turned towards her unborn child and the impending miracle of its birth.

“Inari, be careful!” Tsunami called out—the two toddlers froze, looking up from the marshy water they’d been playing in. The woman smiled encouragingly and they got back to it. She turned to look at the woman sitting next to her.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how big they’re getting,” she said fondly, “It feels like just yesterday, we were changing diapers and breastfeeding, you know? They’ll be old enough to go to school soon.”

Natsumi looked across at her, one eyebrow raised, “That’s a little premature, I think. They’re barely toddlers.”

Tsunami shrugged, “I’m just saying, the last two years practically flew by, the next two will probably pass even faster. I mean, look at them!”

The other woman did; a small, thin smile on her lips as she watched the two boys exchanging handfuls of mud and weeds. “They’re such good friends.”

Grinning, Tsunami agreed, “Like brothers. They’re lucky to have each other.”

“Hmm,” Natsumi agreed mildly.

“Kaachan!” Both women looked up to see the boys running across to them, the younger black-haired toddler stumbling after his more coordinated friend.

“What is it, Maruhi?” Natsumi asked, opening her arms to catch the boy as he ran to her lap.

“Hunny,” Inari exclaimed, stumbling and tripping just before he reached his own mother. The boy doggedly picked himself up, grinning, and Tsunami smiled back at him, dusting him off gently.

“We’re hungry,” Maruhi supplied, looking from his friend up to his mother, “Lunch?”

“It is about that time,” Tsunami said, scooping her son into her arms.

Natsumi stood, dusting herself off. “Who wants sashimi?” She asked, taking her son’s hand.

“Dumplings,” Maruhi said, tugging on her hand.

“Hunny!” Inari chimed in excitedly, legs swinging in his mother’s arms.

“We don’t have dumplings,” Natsumi said, “We have sashimi.”

The boy pouted and tugged on her hand a little more insistently. “Dumplings!”

“Umpy!” Inari agreed enthusiastically.

“We could go into town and get some,” Tsunami suggested.

Natsumi glanced at her and shook her head. “I think we’ll pass, Tsunami. We caught some fish during the night that need to be either eaten or cooked.”

Tsunami frowned a little, “If it’s because of money…”

“No,” Natsumi replied, smiling slightly, “It’s not. You’re welcome to join us, if you would like.”

“Umpy!” Inari exclaimed again.

Tsunami smiled fondly at the toddler, brushing his dark hair back from his face. “I think we’re going to get dumplings,” she decided.

Natsumi nodded, and tugged on her son’s reluctant hand as their paths diverged, “We’ll see you later, then.”

Tsunami waved with one hand.

Maruhi dragged his feet, complaining, “Dumplings…”

“Thanks for watching him again,” Natsumi said gratefully as her friend invited her inside.

“It’s no problem,” Tsunami said easily, “I’m lucky, since I have my father to help. The least I can do is help out my friend.”

They stepped through the door, and Natsumi froze. “Oh… you have company.”

Inari and Maruhi were sitting on the floor, one on either side of a large, muscular man, who looked awkward, with his legs folded on the floor and a brightly colored children’s book open in his lap. The boys were leaning on his knees, listening intently as his deep voice rumbled—he paused, looking up at their entrance, and smiled, before going back to the story.

Tsunami looked between them with a small, uncertain frown. “Um, Natsumi, you’ve met Kaiza before.”

The brunette’s frown didn’t lessen, but she nodded.

Kaiza had turned up in their town only a year ago, but he was so good—he’d quickly gained popularity in town, always more than willing to help anyone. Tsunami had invited him to dinner one day, the least she could do to thank him for saving the life of her young son, and little Inari had taken an instant liking to him. So she’d been inviting him over more often—her son needed a father-like figure in his life, and her father wasn’t exactly present all the time, and he liked her cooking, so she considered it a fair trade.

“Maruhi, we need to go,” Natsumi said—Tsunami looked at her friend with concern, because there was something nervous in her voice.

She didn’t know who Maruhi’s father was. It was something of an unspoken agreement between them. She’d never asked, and in return, Natsumi had never asked about Inari’s father. But now, looking at the anxious way the woman collected her reluctant son, she couldn’t help but wonder about it. Because Natsumi was a strong woman—probably the strongest Tsunami knew—but she seemed nervous and anxious in town, and she never took her son anywhere. Like she was hiding him, protecting him.

Tsunami wondered if, somehow, something very awful had happened to her friend.

She followed the two out the door and with a gentle touch to her shoulder, made Natsumi pause to look at her—the nervousness wasn’t quite gone from her face.

“Natsumi, I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” she apologized. She could hardly imagine her life without this woman anymore. They’d been through so much together, even though they’d only known each other for five years.

“I just don’t want him around my son,” Natsumi said tightly.

“But, Kaachan, I like Kaiza-san,” the boy complained, “He’s cool.”

The woman frowned at him pointedly, and Maruhi obediently shut up, starting down the path to their house.

“I’m sorry,” Natsumi apologized, “It’s not… it’s just that we don’t know anything about who he is or where he came from, and I just feel… nervous about Maruhi spending time with him.”

“I understand,” Tsunami said, even though she really didn’t.

“But he does seem nice,” Natsumi offered uncomfortably, “I need to go. Next time, I’ll run my errands on a day he isn’t coming over.”

Tsunami nodded, still feeling confused, “Okay, great. I’ll let you know ahead of time, then.”

“Thanks,” the other woman said before hurrying after her wandering son.

It made Tsunami sad, to think that such a strong woman had been hurt so thoroughly that she couldn’t trust good people.

“It was great!” Inari gushed excitedly, “Hanari-sensei is really nice, and there are other kids and everything! There’s this funny girl with yellow hair who’s the same age as me, her name’s Tama, and Kenni is in our grade, too, but he’s kind of weird. There’re older kids, too—we get to share a classroom with the second and third grades, and the teacher teaches all of us!”

Maruhi was listening, but frowning unhappily, poking a stick at the marshy ground at the shore.

“Why do you think your mom doesn’t want you to go to school with us?” Inari asked hesitantly, watching his despondent friend.

The other six-year-old scowled, and threw his stick into the water. “I don’t know,” he grumbled, “She says I can learn more if she teaches me.”

Inari looked at his friend uncertainly. “She doesn’t let you go into town, either.”

Maruhi shrugged uncomfortably. “You know Kaachan,” he said after a moment, “She doesn’t like a lot of people.”

“Well, school is really fun,” Inari told him, “Maybe we can talk her into letting you go next year.”

“Maybe,” Maruhi said doubtfully.

“… You want to play a game?” Inari asked uncomfortably.

Maruhi stared out at the sea for a moment, and then he turned, a wicked glint in his sharp, dark eyes. “I have a better idea. Let’s go into town.”

The other boy frowned. “I dunno…” he said slowly, “Your mom will be mad.”

Maruhi grinned, “Come on. We can find Kaiza-san. It’ll be fun.”

Inari hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, before a smile finally crossed his lips. “Alright, let’s go!”

“Cool,” Maruhi said, smirking. He brushed one hand through his wild white hair and the two boys took off.

“I want to go to the wedding,” Maruhi said.

Natsumi frowned, her lips thin. “No. Maruhi, there will be too many people.”

The boy scowled, “But it’s Tsunami-bachan and Kaiza-san! Kaachan…”

“No,” Natsumi said firmly.

“Why not?” Maruhi blurted, “Why can’t I go? Why can’t I go to real school with Inari? Or into town when you buy groceries? Or to play with the other kids? Kaachan, you never let me do anything!”

“You can’t,” the woman said flatly. She hesitated for a moment under the boy’s frosty glare, then continued. “You can’t,” she said, “Because my name wasn’t always Natsumi.”

The boy frowned, his forehead furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Natsumi stared at him, lips pursed. Without a word, she sat down, and patted the floor next to her. Silently, the boy obeyed, sitting next to her, and waited.

“You know we didn’t always live here,” she said carefully.

Frowning, Maruhi nodded, “You moved here, but that was before I was born.”

“Yes,” Natsumi agreed, “I moved here when I was pregnant. I… moved here because I was pregnant.”

The boy stiffened, and looked up at her with confusion. “What do you mean? Because you were pregnant?”

“You’re old enough to understand,” his mother said slowly, “Sometimes things happen, and we don’t mean for them to. Sometimes, when things happen, it causes trouble.”

“… Me?” Maruhi asked.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Natsumi said quickly, “It was mine—I never should have… I was young,” she explained, “Your father was mysterious and aloof and enticing, but he wasn’t mine to have, and I wasn’t his.”

“My… father?” Maruhi echoed—they had never once talked about his father. It had never really bothered him. The only other friend he had was Inari, and he didn’t have a father either. At least he hadn’t, but starting today, he would have Kaiza.

His mother nodded. “So, you see, it became too dangerous and I had to leave, and I had to keep you a secret.” She looked him up and down, her blue eyes cool and measuring, “You look a lot like him, and if the wrong people see you… it could bring trouble to us, even here.”

Maruhi chewed on his lower lip for a moment, considering. Even though he understood, it didn’t make it any easier. He still wanted to go to the wedding, and he still wanted to go to school with his friend and be a normal kid, like everyone else.

“What was his name?” He asked at length.

Natsumi shook her head. “I won’t tell you that. It’s better if you don’t know.”

“Safer?” The six-year-old asked unhappily. His mother nodded and they were silent for a few minutes. “What was your name?” He asked again.

The woman started to shake her head, then paused, lips tight and eyes considering. At last, she nodded slightly. “Alright. It was Amake.”

“Amake,” Maruhi repeated.

“Now you must not say it again,” Natsumi said firmly.

Still lost in his thoughts, Maruhi nodded.

There wasn’t a funeral. Gato had desecrated the body, and wouldn’t allow it. His goons were everywhere.

Natsumi helped Tsunami and Tazuna pull the body down when they were allowed. Maruhi and Inari watched from the safety of the trees, the older boy with an arm around the younger as he sobbed. They watched as Kaiza’s body dropped to the ground, and the three adults caught him.

Inari’s shoulder’s shook with a particularly harsh sob, and Maruhi’s arm tightened around him.

“We’ll kill him,” he said, soft and cold. Louder, he added, “We’ll kill Gato, Inari.”

The younger boy rubbed at his streaming eyes and trembled. “I-it w-w-won’t work,” he stammered, voice thick with tears, “G-Gato’s too… th-there’s t-t-too many of th-them.”

“You don’t know how strong Kaachan is,” Maruhi said. “And me, too. I’m getting strong, and I’ll get stronger. And I promise, Inari, we’ll kill him.”

“D-don’t!” Inari snapped, and pushed the older boy away, glaring down at him, because despite Maruhi being four months older, he was an inch or two taller. “You can’t! L-look at O-Otousan!” He gestured wildly in the direction of where the man’s body was being carefully carried away. “Maruhi, please! I don’t want to lose you and Natsumi-basan, too!”

The other seven-year-old stared back at him calmly, frowning slightly, his eyebrows tilted with concern and sympathy. At length, he stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around his friend again.

“Shh,” he murmured, “It’s okay, Inari. It’s okay, I… I won’t do anything. We won’t do anything, Inari. We’ll be okay.”

The boy nodded, burying his face in his friend’s shirt. “D-don’t leave me, Maruhi,” he whimpered.

“I won’t,” Maruhi said firmly. “I promise, I won’t.”

He could hardly believe the man was dead. He could understand his friend’s feelings, because if Kaiza couldn’t stand up to Gato, who could? He was big and strong and powerful and good. He’d been a father to Inari—he’d been like a father to him. He’d taken both of them on camping trips—after he and Inari had pleaded with his mother to trust him. More importantly, he’d taken in his best friend in, and he’d made him happy. He’d made them both happy—they’d both liked him.

But Inari got so attached to people. Then again, Maruhi was rather attached to the only few people he knew. And he felt mad. He felt sad, of course, but he felt angry more than anything. He felt angry that Kaiza had been killed, and he felt angry that Tsunami-basan and Inari had been hurt. He felt angry that there was nothing he could do about it.

“Maruhi…” The younger boy began sobbing again, and Maruhi held him tightly, tears slowly starting to roll down his own cheeks.