Chapter 12 – When Words Run Out

By the seventh month, Aiko’s body was heavy.

Her feet swelled by evening. Her back ached constantly. Sleep came in fragments, broken by discomfort and restless thoughts. The baby moved often now, small kicks that reminded her something fragile depended on her.

But the apartment felt quieter than ever.

Yuji left early. Came back late.

They still spoke. Just not the way they used to.

“Did you eat?” he would ask while tying his shoes.

“Yes.”

“Doctor appointment tomorrow.”

“I know.”

Short sentences. Necessary ones.

The warmth between them faded into routine, like a light left on too long.

The first fight happened over nothing.

Aiko had waited all day. Her legs hurt. The baby wouldn’t settle. When Yuji came home past midnight, she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You didn’t call,” she said.

Yuji sighed. “I told you, work was busy.”

“You always say that.”

He paused. “Because it’s true.”

Her chest tightened. “You promised you would tell me when you’d be late.”

“I’m trying,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

Silence followed.

Aiko looked down. “You’re tired of me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

Yuji clenched his jaw. “I’m tired of fighting.”

“So am I,” she whispered.

That night, they slept back to back.

The second fight came days later.

Yuji noticed the electric bill on the table.

“It’s higher than usual,” he said carefully.

Aiko stiffened. “I needed the heater. My legs cramp at night.”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t use it.”

“But you thought it.”

Yuji exhaled. “Aiko, money is tight.”

“So is my body,” she shot back, immediately regretting it.

His face hardened. “I work every hour I can.”

“And I’m carrying our child alone all day!” she cried.

The room filled with heavy breathing.

Yuji grabbed his jacket. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Run away like always,” she said softly.

He froze.

Then he left without another word.

After that, the fights stopped.

Not because things were better.

But because they stopped trying to explain themselves.

Days passed where they spoke only when needed. Yuji avoided coming home early. Aiko avoided asking him to stay.

At night, she lay awake, one hand on her stomach, tears soaking into the pillow.

The baby kicked.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Mama’s here.”

Yuji stood outside the apartment more than once, hand hovering over the door handle. He wanted to apologize. Wanted to explain how heavy everything felt.

But the words wouldn’t come.

He felt useless at home and exhausted outside.

Two people drowning in the same water, unable to reach each other.

One evening, Aiko suddenly felt dizzy while washing dishes. Her vision blurred. She grabbed the counter just in time.

When Yuji came home, she was sitting on the floor.

“Aiko?” Panic filled his voice. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Just stood up too fast.”

He knelt in front of her. “You’re seven months pregnant. You can’t say that like it’s nothing.”

She looked away. “You’re busy.”

“Stop,” he said sharply. “Don’t do that.”

They locked eyes.

For the first time in weeks, something raw surfaced.

“I’m scared,” Aiko admitted. “All the time. I feel like I’m becoming a burden.”

Yuji’s throat tightened. “You’re not.”

“Then why does it feel like you’d rather be anywhere else?”

He had no answer.

He lowered his head, fists clenched. “Because if I stop moving, I think I’ll break.”

Her eyes softened.

She reached for his hand. He hesitated, then took it.

“I don’t need you to be strong all the time,” she said quietly. “I just need you here.”

Yuji nodded slowly. “I don’t know how to balance everything.”

“Neither do I.”

They sat there on the floor, holding hands, saying nothing.

It didn’t fix everything.

But it stopped the bleeding.

Outside, the city moved on.

Inside, two frightened young adults held onto each other, trying not to drift further apart… as the due date crept closer.