A New Beginning

I held her as we started moving, a little water spilling onto the floor.

As Sakura hurried toward the hallway, she called out: “I’ll get my car keys! I’ll be right back.”

But she didn’t get far.

BAMMM!

The door next to mine flew open so violently that it shook the frame.

My sister stood there, hair messy and breathing heavily. But her eyes were serious.

“I SAW EVERYTHING. I’m coming!” Yui said.

“Not now–!” I started… but she’d already run to Yuna and grabbed her free hand.

I opened my mouth, ready to scold her for trying to make a dramatic entrance at the worst possible time… but then her eyes met mine. Her voice softened in a way that felt unreal coming from her. “I want to be there for her.”

“Hey… hey, slow. I’ve got you.” Yui said, moving to Yuna’s other side and supporting her. “Okay, okay, breathe…”

Suddenly, my mom stepped out, already dressed, holding up her car keys and giving them a quick shake.

“I expected this.” she said calmly. “Let’s go.”

“Wha– how??”

“You’re my son, and she’s the girl you care about. Of course I’m prepared.”

My family really is quite something.

No one waited for my answer, we just moved.

Then, everything blurred into fragments. My mom guiding us forward, my sister whispering “Breathe in, breathe out...” Sakura sprinting ahead to open the doors…

The next thing I knew, we were in the car.

—----------------------------

The automatic doors slid open, and harsh white hospital lights hit us all at once. Nurses hurried over the moment they saw Yuna clutching her stomach.

“How far along?” one asked immediately.

“32 weeks...but her water broke.”

Their faces tightened. “Premature… We’ll move quickly. Are you the father?”

Yuna didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

Before I could process the warmth of that answer, Yuna was rolled away on a stretcher.

I followed, until a nurse held out her hand.

“Please wait here. We’ll update you soon.”

I swallowed hard. “But…she said I’m the–”

“She is high risk… I’m sorry… but we can’t allow you into the delivery area. Our hospital doesn't allow it.”

“What? But–”

My sister grabbed my sleeve and squeezed. “She’s strong, Ren. She’ll be okay.”

The doors shut.

And just like that, the noise and urgency vanished, leaving the hallway unnervingly quiet.

The weight of it finally hit me, and I fell to my knees, as I realized how little control I had left.

—-------------------------

My legs wouldn’t stop shaking.

The ticking of the clock grew louder, until it was all I could hear.

Every few minutes, a nurse walked by, but none of them said her name. My mom sat beside me, hand on my back. Unable to stay still, my sister kept moving up and down the hallway. Sakura spoke to the nurses, trying to get any information she could.

As I sat there, my thoughts wouldn’t stop spiraling.

It’s premature birth…

32 weeks… Around 8 weeks too early...

What if the baby isn’t breathing…

What if Yuna–

“Ren?”

I lifted my head. A doctor stood infront of me, serious, but not grim.

“There was a brief complication.” he said calmly. “The baby’s heartbeat dropped for a moment, but we were able to stabilize both mother and child.” He hesitated for a second. "...Your partner is progressing well."

My breath finally returned.

“Do you want to be with h-?”

I didn’t let him finish.

“Yes!”

—--------------------

The room they brought me to wasn’t the delivery room. It was a recovery space, set up for monitoring and waiting.

Yuna lay on a bed. Her hair was damp with sweat, her face pale, and she was breathing harsh and uneven. A nurse wiped her forehead with a cloth while machines beeped steadily beside her.

Her eyes fluttered open when she heard me enter.

“Ren…?”

I rushed to her side. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Her fingers reached for mine, small and trembling. I took them gently.

“It hurts. Why does it still hurt?”

“Your body’s been going through a lot. But you’re doing amazing.”

A weak laugh escaped her. “You don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still amazing.”

She squeezed my hand. “They… they took her so fast. I didn’t even get to… I didn’t even touch–” Her voice broke.

Her.

The word took a moment to sink in.

“It’s okay. They’re just making sure she’s safe. She was born premature…they need to monitor her.”

“What if she’s not…?” Her lip trembled. “What if she’s so small because of everything… because I was stressed…because–”

“Stop.” I cut in. “This isn’t your fault, none of it is.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m scared.” she whispered.

“I know.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m scared too.”

Telling her everything would be fine would’ve been easy. But being honest felt more important. If I stood in that fear with her, then she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

And then, before my mind could overthink it, I leaned forward…

…and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek.

Yuna froze for a moment. Then her breath hitched, just slightly. Her eyes widened, shimmering with exhaustion and emotion.

“Ren…”

“You did good.” I whispered. “So, so good.”

—--------------------------

4 hours passed without any news.

Every nurse who passed by without stopping made it worse.

Yuna drifted in and out of sleep, each time waking up startled.

“Is there news?"

“Did something happen?”

“Did anyone come by?”

Each time, I had to shake my head. The helplessness was suffocating.

But then, finally…

A soft knock. The doctor stepped inside.

“The little one has overcome the initial complications.” he said with a gentle smile. “She’s stable enough for brief kangaroo care. We’ll bring her in shortly.”

Yuna covered her mouth with both hands… and started to cry. “You mean… she’s okay? She’s really–?”

“She’s a fighter.” the doctor said. “Just like her mother.”

—-----------------

The nurse entered with a tiny bundle in her arms… So small it almost didn’t look real.

Yuna trembled as she adjusted herself. The nurse carefully placed the tiny little girl onto her bare chest.

Yuna’s face softened into something I had never seen before.

“Oh…she’s so small.” she whispered. “So, so small…”

“She’s perfect.” I whispered back.

The baby’s fragile limbs curled instinctively against her warmth. Her breathing was slow but steady.

Yuna’s tears fell onto the baby’s soft blanket.

“I can’t believe she’s real.” she cried. “She’s really… my child.”

After a minute, Yuna looked up at me, sniffing.

“Ren…do you… do you want to hold her?”

My mind blanked. “M-Me? I…can I?”

“I– I don’t want to drop her… or hold her the wrong way." I continued. "Remember the preparation class?”

“You won’t.”

The nurse helped transfer the tiny bundle into my arms.

She weighed almost nothing. And yet, holding her felt like holding an entire universe.

Her little face scrunched.

Her mouth made a tiny “o”.

She hiccuped softly.

Her breath was a warm puff against my wrist.

And something inside me simply broke.

My vision blurred as tears spilled without warning.

Yuna watched me, her eyes shining, a trembling smile on her lips.

“You’re… crying…”

I hadn’t cried in years.

“Give me a second… It’s just… the dust.” I lied terribly.

Even the nurse laughed.

I swallowed, staring at the little life in my arms.

“I’ll protect her.” I whispered. “Both of you. I swear.”

Yuna’s grip on the blanket tightened. Tears slipped free, but she didn’t look away from me, like she normally would. There was something in her expression… relief, disbelief, and trust… all tangled together.

After a moment, I gently handed her back to Yuna. She held her close, brushing a finger over her tiny cheek.

This sight…

Yuna exhausted, glowing softly under the hospital lights, her baby resting against her chest…

It was too much… Too beautiful…

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

This time, Yuna didn’t freeze.

She closed her eyes… and smiled.

“Thank you, Ren.” she whispered. “...For everything.”

“You did it, Yuna.” I said with a smile.

And she looked at me like she believed she could do anything now.