Archive of Our Own ^beta

It starts with a picture sent to the group chat. Innocent enough, until the message was actually opened. It’s simple, but effective. Momo in the foreground, holding something up in front of her face, Ken in the background, face turned away and buried in his hands, the blush on his ears like a red beacon in a storm. The caption from Momo, as well, is innocuous by nature:

       Fearless_Leader: Someone’s excited

Then, on a second pass, it becomes clear. The thing Momo’s holding – a white stick with two pink lines in the middle.

The group chat explodes.

It’s a flood of over lapping freak-out texts and various non-sensical emojis.

                Pr3ttyP3ttal: MOMO U SKANK WTF????!!!

                SpaceCadette:3: 🥰💫💫😍🤯👏👻👽💖💫👏👏👽👽👻😍😍😍

                F00tBallin: Yoooo what?!

                UmbrellaBro: hey, congrats, guys!

                WriterOfVampires: Oooooh! Congratulations! I didn’t even know you were trying! <3

                Robo_Sentinal: AH! WHAT FORTUITOUS FORTUNES BEFALL PRIVATE CADET OKARUN!

                DourDoll: yes, congratulations

                Fearless_Leader: Alright, alright, b4 u guys explode my phone with notifs, meet @ corner

                                          café 30 mins?

They’re already crowded around a booth once Momo and Ken arrive. The couple freeze in the doorway for a moment, surprised by how quickly they assembled despite Momo and Ken getting to the café ten minutes early.

They’re uncharacteristically quiet; no food ordered, heads bent together over the table. Momo almost turns to Ken and asks if this was a bad idea, when Aira looks up and locks eyes right with Momo.

“There she is!” The girl shrieks as she leaps over the table and sprints up to the psychic.

“Oh, shi-“

Momo doesn’t get to finish before her hands are clasped in Aira’s, the woman’s face inches from her own. The pink-haired girl’s eyes are watery with unshed tears.

“Momo, you skank!” she says through thick sniffles. “Why didn’t you tell me, I thought we were sisters!” The woman bursts into agonized whines at the end.

“Geeze, Aira, calm down! You guys are like the first people we told! Well, after my grandma and my doctor…”

“A betrayal!” Aira shouts. “A betrayal of sacred sisterhood!”

Ken looks about ready to step in before another set of arms wrap around Aira’s waist and lift the woman into the air.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jiji says as he pulls Aira away, the woman still sniffling in his arms. “She’s been emotional since the announcement. I promise, she’s happy for you.”

Momo tries to sigh, but it comes out as more of a stifled laugh. “I know, I know, I’m familiar with how Aira expresses herself.”

“Aaaaaaah! I just can’t!” Aira cries, wriggling about in Jiji’s arms.

“Alright, Aira,” he says to the woman in a soothing tone. “Let’s sit down.”

Momo watches the tall man drag the still sobbing woman back to their table. She hears Ken chuckle as he retakes his place next to her. Momo answers his laughter with a side eye.

“Glad that was so amusing for you.”

Ken’s smile turns mischievous. “I thought you were used to Aira now.”

“I am.” Momo asserts, crossing her arms.

“You know, it’s pretty amazing how much your relationship has changed since high school.”

The thought has Momo reminiscing as she watches Aira be dragged away. It was a wild shift, how they’d gone from romantic rivals (though it was never a contest for Ken, not that they’d known that at the time) to, like, girl besties. Momo couldn’t quite pin down when the change had happened, when she’d drifted away from her other high school friends and started spending so much time with Aira and the other girls of their group, but she wouldn’t change it for anything.

“Alright, enough daydreaming,” she nudges her husband with her elbow. “They’ve probably got a lot of questions to answer.”

The couple get themselves settled within their friend group, placed at the head of the table outside of the booth, their friends spread about them on either side. Coffee, tea, and pastries were finally distributed, and with the addition of food, people seemed to have settled down again. It’s the ever blunt and straightforward Unji who gets the ball rolling.

“So, pregnant, huh?” He asks while biting into a croissant.

“Y-you could be a little more tactful about it…” Kouki comments in a quiet voice, fidgeting with her long strands of hair.

Unji rolls his eyes at her good-naturedly. They’ve always gotten along surprisingly well despite their differing personalities.

“I’m just upset you didn’t tell us you were trying!” Aira says, her eyes still a little misty.

“Okay, first of all,” Momo starts. “This was not intentional on our parts. We were talking about starting a family farther down the line, but life had different plans, and we’ve just decided to capitalize on them.”

“Man, makes it feel like you two are lightyears ahead of the rest of us,” Jiji says, expression and posture relaxed despite the big news. “I mean, no one else here is even engaged yet.”

And it was true. Jiji and Aira had been an established couple for a few years, Kinta was still making his earnest efforts at courting Vamola, and no one else seemed to have their eyes on anyone.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Vamola says, her hands clasped under her chin. “Truly lasting love seems to be a rarity across the whole universe, the fact that Momo and Okarun found each other so early in life is a blessing!”

Despite herself, Momo’s cheeks flush a little at the comment. She definitely believes that Ken is her soulmate, but it seems a little of that lingering self-consciousness at acknowledging something so shmaltzy out loud remained. She feels a hand curl into hers and looks up to see Ken looking at her with such a sweet expression, it chases some of that shyness away.

“Ugh, they’re doing the eye thing again!”

Momo jerks away from Ken at Aira’s comment, and the rest of the table explodes into laughter at her gob-smacked expression. Momo’s face quickly turns sour.

“Hey, c’mon! I’m allowed to make eye contact with my husband, you know!”

“Sure, but you could at least wait until you get home to start undressing him with your eyes,” Unji teases through another mouthful of pastry.

Even Rin is snickering, turned away and trying to hide her face with both hands. Momo sulks a little bit. She’s not really hurt, but her pride has never liked getting her soft points poked. She feels herself lean back as Ken pulls her into his chest, one of his hands sliding soothingly up and down her arm.

Momo’s anger fades quickly. Let them laugh all they want; she knows she’s lucky and she’s not gonna shy away from indulging in what she’s worked so hard to have.

“So,” Kinta speaks up, fiddling with his glasses in a way that causes them to reflect light and make him look more mysterious. “You said you went to the doctor? What did they say?”

Momo takes a breath, switching gears to something more serious.

“It was just a confirmation check-up mostly. So, I know I’m definitely pregnant, and almost a month along.”

“Oh, exciting!” Vamola says, leaning close over the table. “What does that mean?”

“Uh, well, not much happens in month one… I probably won’t start showing or anything until the second trimester, which is another two months from now.”

“Fascinating… I’m not familiar with human pregnancies, I’m very much looking forward to seeing the progression!”

“Is Sumerian reproduction really so different?” Rin asks Vamola.

“I’m not sure. I was the last child of my generation before our planet was ravaged. I never got the chance to learn the details before I was sent here. Mother’s instructions on finding a partner were… vague.” The alien’s antennae droop.

“But you’ve reunited with them,” Ken chimes in, unable to stay out of a conversation regarding aliens. “I thought Banga said that Sumerians were originally from Earth, wouldn’t reproduction be the same?”

Momo remembers that tearful reunion with Vamola’s adoptive family vividly. How they were all freaking out when they thought the signals Vamola was picking up on her kaiju suit were signs of another invasion, the awe on Vamola’s face when she recognized the design of the ships that fell out of the wormhole, the tears she and everyone else had shed when she got to hug her mother for the first time in years.

The Sumerians were a rowdy bunch, something Momo attributed to being solders for many years. Banga, Seiko, and Turbo Granny got on like a house on fire, so she and the other alien women became regular sights at the family shrine. Momo had joked that they had enough old ladies to start a Mahjong night, and then was left nonplused when they actually followed through on the idea.

Her attention is pulled back to Vamola when she continues.

“It’s likely, but we don’t know much about how our bodies changed over the years we’ve spent separated from other homosapiens. After all, we look completely different from the Sumerians of your ancient past. Who knows what evolution has done.”

“Ah, but of course, whatever the result should be, I shall be here to support you,” Kinta says, flourishing his hands towards the alien girl in his usual dramatic fashion. “- and the others, too, of course,” the rotund man adds on for good measure.

Vamola giggles, a hand covering her mouth. “Thank you, Kinta, the gesture is appreciated.”

Momo fought the desire to roll her eyes at the display. She wished Vamola would just make a decision or reject the poor guy already, but the Sumerian had already confided in her about her anxieties and doubts around picking a partner, so she let the annoyance go. Vamola had spent so much of her initial time on Earth searching for the ‘love’ her mother had asked her to find, throwing herself at anyone who seemed to fit the description of ‘strong,’ that she felt she had little idea what a true partner looked like.

‘I want what you and Okarun have,’ the other woman had told her.

Though, Lord knows, Momo didn’t know how to give any advice. She barely understood how she’d landed Ken. Sometimes it felt more like the two of them had just… fallen in together. Forces beyond their understanding twisting their lives around each other.

So, Vamola had settled on taking it slow. Meeting new people, exploring her options, figuring things out for herself. Which was fine, Momo just hated watching Kinta bark up this tree forever. Well, it was his decision, she supposed. Vamola had made it pretty clear she was ‘still looking.’

“Getting back on topic,” Rin says, a familiar romantic glint in her eyes. “Have you guys picked baby names? Oh, what about toys and clothes?!”

“We are definitely having a baby shower.” Aira states.

The girls around the table begin to chatter excitedly until Momo waves her hands about in a desperate plea to stop.

“Woah, woah! It is way too early for stuff like that! The baby is basically a lima bean at this point, you can’t even tell what the gender is!”

“That’s no reason not to get the jump on things! Babies need a lot of stuff, Momo.”

“I know, Aira. I’m the one having it.”

The table laughs at that, and Momo can’t stop the smile that crosses her face.

“Look, that really is all we can tell you all at this point. It still super early, we just… wanted you all to know.”

Jiji’s eyes go soft. “Aww, we love you too, Momo!”

“I didn’t say that!”

Laughter again, and Momo could tell none of them believed her outburst. Because it’s true, she loves these dorks with all her heart.

They leave the café a few hours later, roaming downtown Kamigoe city, window shopping and chatting. Anyone who saw the group might mistake them for rowdy high schoolers with how they bantered and shouted and made a general ruckus unbecoming of adults in Japanese society. But that was just how their little group was, a collection of weirdos in all shapes and colors, and that would never change.

Momo hangs back, watching the others meander ahead, mentally comparing the people they are now to the people they are then.

Jiji’s perhaps the most physically the same. Which makes sense, Momo can’t imagine this string bean getting any taller. His hair’s a little different, cut short and combed out of his face, but his sense of style is still cutting edge and he’s still a huge goofball when in a crowd. It had been a real surprise when Jiji said he was pursuing a career in photography rather than sports. He still played football in his spare time but seemed more than happy to dedicate himself to embracing this atypical career. And he turned out to be damn good at it, too. The tall man worked freelance; Momo often hired him to work on photo shoots for their models, but his favorite role was bumbling around with Ken, taking photos for her husband’s self-published, monthly occult magazine.

“Spectacles of the Unexplained” was Ken’s true life's passion. It had a small but dedicated following of like-minded alien obsessives. Not enough to make a living from, but Ken was dedicated to seeing it grow, and Momo was pretty confident it was only a matter of time before things took off. Even if it didn’t, well, she didn’t mind being the breadwinner.

Then there was Aira. She was much the same, too. Pink, tussled hair, baby-doll eyes framed with curled eyelashes, her appearance every bit that curated cute-girl aesthetic. She’d gotten taller, like the rest of them, but most of her length was in her legs, which now sported well-trimmed muscle thanks to her life as a professional dancer.

That was another surprise, Aira had never given any indication dancing was some deep passion of hers, but it seemed that Acro-silky’s life story had more of an impact on the girl than they’d realized. None the less, she seemed to love it, even with the travel and long hours and physically demanding performances.

Momo watches as Jiji and Aira drift closer to each other, and she smiles when one of Jiji’s arms finds its place on Aira’s hip. Their relationship had been another unexpected turn, but it seemed like there was a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff going on neither she nor Ken had been privy to.

 Momo had been happy to watch Aira sit next to Jiji at lunch and lean her head on his shoulder. It really sucked, knowing your childhood friend was still nursing a crush on you even though you rejected him back in middle school because you didn’t feel the same anymore. Watching him fall in love made it feel like that old wound was finally fading.

Aira moving on from Ken had been more… dramatic. Naturally, of course. She’d invited the boy up to the school roof where she gave a Shakespearian level performance of telling him she’d found someone else.

“I’m afraid my heart has moved to another, dear Takakura. But I will always remember the care and affection which you so devoutly bestowed upon me… Farewell.” She turned and ran, a few tears falling in the evening light.

Ken only watched, totally gobsmacked, because he and Momo had been dating for three months at that point and their whole friend group already knew.

Momo finds herself snickering at the memory, so distracted she fails to notice a taller figure falling into step next to her.

“Something funny?” Ken asks.

She looks up at him, and lets her hand slide into his, as it always does when they’re walking together.

“Just memories,” she tells him.

“Oh? Anything in particular?”

“That time Aira gave you a tearful rejection on the school roof.”

Ken snorts, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle the noise.

“Oh, I remember that.”

“We really had no idea what we were doing back then, huh?”

“Not a clue,” the man agrees. “But we figured it out eventually. We all did.”

Momo hums her agreement.

None of them are exactly where they thought they would be, but they all turned out alright.

Her gaze moves over the rest of their motley crew, one by one.

Enji, who’s now a social worker, dedicating himself into helping kids like him get out of bad situations more directly than if he’d followed his guardian’s footsteps and joined the police.

Rin, who’d finally reached a compromise with Mai’s spirit, pursuing her dreams of authorship while indulging in writing and performing songs on the side. She did so under an alias, to keep her singing and writing identities separate, but she had a killer following on Spotify at this point, so it’s not like the pushy sprit could complain.

Kinta, who’d turned his passion for robots into a stellar career in aerospace engineering. He got to build robots that would explore the galaxy for the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency. Coupled with how gaining a few inches helped him carry his weight in a more flattering way, his crisp style of dress courtesy of Momo’s advice, and slick, combed back hair, the man looked far more comfortable in his own skin than before.

Kouki, who’d come out of her shell more and more over the years, and seemed to find a level of confidence in her adult hood that she was robbed of as a teenager. She’d decided on leaving the pressure-filled life of striving to become a professional musician to work, instead, as a music teacher. There, she could help other shy and aimless children find joy and safety in music.

And Vamola who was… well, Vamola. She did whatever she liked, flitting from temp job to temp job, exploring and learning what it meant to be human. Or… a Sumerian living as a human, she supposed. But the alien seemed enthralled with every bit of Earthling life, soaking up all the experiences offered by such chaotic living with the enthusiasm of an explorer on foreign soil.

All of these lives had been hard won; with blood, sweat, and tears, with no help from any superpowers.

It makes another thought cross Momo’s mind, and she unconsciously puts a hand on her stomach. Ken takes notice and taps her on the side with the hand that’s clasped in hers.

“Momo? Penny for your thoughts?”

She blinks lazily before looking up at her husband. “I was just thinking… our kid’s gonna do that stuff, too.”

“Stuff…?” He asks, not following her thought.

“They’re gonna grow up, go to school, make friends, get into fights, fall in love, drive themselves crazy figuring out who they are… It’s… kind of an odd thought. I’m growing a whole person right now…”

Ken smiles softly, and squeezes Momo’s hand just a little bit tighter.

“That sounds pretty exciting to me.”

Momo looks back to him, meeting his expression of joy, and smiles, too.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

Ken walks into work the next day with the biggest grin on his face. When Momo had first asked to keep the pregnancy under wraps until she could see the doctor, Ken did his best to keep the excitement and joy off his expression as he went about his daily life. But now that his wife had gotten a clean bill of health, and their immediate family was made aware (yes, Ken does consider their friend group to be part of the immediate family,) there was no reason to hide anymore.

And ah, what a relief it was, to be able to bask in the feelings of warm elation that fluttered through him on a regular basis. He had a beautiful wife, a comfortable income, the space to chase his passions, and now, a little piece of himself and Momo coming into the world. He really was a lucky guy! The Ken from ten years ago couldn’t have fathomed this was waiting in his future.

“Someone’s happy today.”

Ken’s pulled out of his thoughts to see his coworker, Kenji, lounging at one of the cubicles. Ken likes Kenji, enough to consider the man a decent work friend. Kenji was a senior reporter; had been working for the Kamigoe Press for years by the time Ken showed up, but he was nothing but supportive in showing Ken the ropes at his first reporter job. Even after Ken had outgrown his supervision, the other man continued to hang around; showing up by Ken’s cubicle during off times, or starting conversations when they passed in the halls, and he was always open to giving Ken critique and advice on his columns.

“Yeah, Ken, what’s got you so chipper?”

Another of his coworkers, Chieko, is standing there, too. Not an unusual sight this early in the morning. It was common for employees to chat before getting started on the actual workday, especially for a career like reporting. Chattiness comes with the territory, and no one’s chattier than Chieko. Not that Ken minds; she’s kind, and bubbly, and brings a vibrant energy to the office, so he likes hanging out with her, too.

Ken’s almost not sure how to respond to them before he remembers that his embargo has been lifted. He’s sure his face is almost beaming when he turns to them.

“Oh, well… actually, I got some big news yesterday.”

Chieko leans in, an excited glint in her eye, and Kenji raises an eyebrow in curiosity. Ken feels almost giddy with the anticipation he’s hanging them on.

“Momo’s pregnant. We’re having a baby!”

The shriek Chieko lets out almost rattles the windows. If everyone else wasn’t paying attention to them at that point, they were now.

“Oh my God, Ken, that’s amazing!” She says, jumping up and down while clapping her hands together.

“I’ll say,” Kenji adds. His posture is still relaxed, but he brings a hand up to lightly punch Ken on the arm. “Congrats, man.”

“Th-thanks.”

Ken feels a bit of his old shyness creeping in again, as it tended to do when thrust into the spotlight. It was never enough to cause him to balk anymore, though. Especially not for this. He’s proud of himself, of all that he has.

“So? How’s Momo?” Chieko asks. “Has she asked for maternity leave yet?”

“Ah, not yet. She’s at work right now. Not that I could stop her from going without tying her to the couch.”

Kenji laughs at that. “Sounds about right, you always described her as strong willed.”

“Well, she’ll have to slow down eventually,” Chieko chimes in. “Pregnancy’s rough on everyone.”

“I know!” Ken says, fiddling with his glasses as his mind starts to race. “I’ve been combing through articles and books on pregnancies every night since I found out. The amount of changes a body goes through to accommodate for not just the baby, but all the new hormones and such, it’s almost unbelievable that the human body can even do this!

“I mean, if I was overwhelmed with it, I can’t even imagine how Momo feels. But I’ve been compiling a plan for when symptoms do start to show. We’re stocked up on heating pads and hot water bottles, whichever feels more comfortable for her, plenty of foods and medicines to help settle her stomach after morning sickness, and of course, I’m on tap for massages when her muscles start to ache.”

Ken finishes with a pleased look on his face, before coming back to reality to notice his coworkers staring at him wide-eyed. Ah, he’d gone on a ramble again. It’s then he hears snickering coming from a table nearby, where a few other reporters are gathered and eating breakfast.

“You gonna take the contractions for her, too?” One man says.

“He might,” says another. “This is the guy who took his wife’s last name.”

They laugh, as though they’d concocted some grand joke together. He can feel Chieko and Kenji’s moods change to annoyed as the jobbers laugh it up. But Ken lets it roll of his back.

Something he’s learned as he grew up, is that some people never leave high school. There will always be jerks and assholes who think kindness is a weakness and showing love is a death sentence for pride. If he spends all his energy getting upset about them, he won’t have any left for the people and things that matter.

“Don’t listen to them, Ken.” Chieko places a warm hand on his shoulder. “Momo’s so lucky to have a guy like you at her back.”

“Yeah,” Kenji says from his reclined position. “Stepping up to the plate to be a dad? That takes more balls than those chuckle-fucks have put together.”

Ken flinches at that, which goes unnoticed as his coworkers laugh.

How do these conversations keep circling back to his balls…?

“Ayase!”

The sound of the head editor’s voice ringing through the office space has everyone sitting up straight in their chairs and burying their heads in their work. Ken, already standing, snaps to attention.

“Yes sir?”

“C’mere, I got your new assignment.” The burly man jabs a thumb behind him at his private office, a cigarette held loosely in his mouth.

“Yes sir!” Ken says as he marches past the desks and cubicles.

He’s not embarrassed of taking Momo’s last name. He knows its unusual, downright strange to most men, but he and Momo have never done things the usual way, so why should he let that apply to marriage traditions? Really, it just made sense to him. He’s closer to Momo’s family than he’s ever been to his own, and outside of Momo’s adorable reaction to it in their teen days, he’s never had much attachment to his own last name.

When the time came to bond their lives together, legally as well as spiritually, the idea of asking Momo to give up her name just felt… wrong. But taking hers instead?

And it’s not like his family had even noticed. Ken hadn’t spoken to them at all since moving in with Momo. The last time they’d even seen each other was the wedding, and even that had just been cursory. They’d shown up, stayed for the ceremony, complimented the bride, wished them happiness and fortune, gifted an appropriately expensive wedding gift, then left before the reception had even concluded. They hadn’t asked about Ken’s plans, so he’d never said anything, and he was happy to leave it at that. His parents had never been very reactive people, but he’d never done anything against the mold in front of them, either, so who knows how they would have taken it.

But the thought hits him, as he’s walking through the office door.

Should I tell them about the baby?

“A baby?! Congrats, you two! Ha ha!”

Momo offers Mr. Shrimp her best gracious smile. It’s not that she’s unhappy with his support, but after a week straight of making the same announcement over and over again, her social battery is running a little dry on the baby topic.

But, at this point, Momo’s pretty sure they’ve talked to everyone who really needs to know. They’ve told their close friends and family, their workplaces, less-close-friends, and made announcement posts on all active social media. At this point, anyone else who wants to know can find out from word of mouth.

“Thank you very much, Sir!” Ken replies in her stead, ever duteous and polite. This is why she likes working with him as a team.

“I’m sure you must be living on cloud nine right now, Ken.” The crustacean alien says with a smile on his face. “I remember the day I found out I was gonna be a dad.”

“Oh yeah,” Momo says, perking up. “You’re like, one of the only actual parents we know.”

“Hah?!”

A brash voice cuts through their conversation, and Momo turns to see Banga, practically climbing onto the table in her attempt to lean over the three of them. Her face is flushed from all the sake Momo’s grandmother has been passing out like water, and the other two Sumerians try desperately to restrain her, so she doesn’t knock the Mahjong tiles everywhere.

“What’d shou say?!” The older woman blurbles through her drunken state. “I’ll have you know; I AM A MOTHER!”

Banga strikes a confident pose, finger pointed high in the air, before soundly toppling onto her side, much to the others’ dismay.

Momo only watches, feeling her eyebrow twitch with annoyance. Somehow, every older woman she knows is brash and loud…

In truth, Momo and Ken hadn’t been expecting to tell any of the people here. Not because they didn’t want to, but more because they were exhausted and just forgot. But, Seiko had invited them over for dinner, a usual occurrence, only for the couple to arrive and find the house crowded with their various alien friends. Vamola’s trio of adopted guardians, Mr. Shrimp, and even Rokuro the exiled Serpo were there. Whether this was an intentional set up from Seiko, Momo was still deciding.

“You know what I mean,” Momo continues. “Yeah, you’re Vamola’s mom but you didn’t, like, have her.”

“If that’s your threshold, I pushed one out, ya’know.” Seiko comments as she shuffles her tiles around.

“Like you ever give me a straight answer about anything if you’re not in the mood!” Momo snaps at her.

“The key is to think like water…” Seiko trails off, focused on stacking her tiles in a strange Jenga tower now.

“Exactly!”

Momo feels Ken’s hands land on her shoulders, pulling his wife back to their previous conversation and cooling her heated temper almost instantly. She places a hand on one of his in silent thanks as she refocuses.

“Ha ha! Well, I’ll offer any advice if I can, but I’m sure you’re dealing with the big emotions already.”

“None the less, we’d love to hear your story,” Ken offers, giving a quick glance to Momo to confirm that she agrees.

“Well, I won’t say no to some reminiscing in my old age, ha ha.” The crab alien reclines, leaning back against the wall as his eyes drift to the sky, lost in thought. “The day my darling Piquita told me she was gravid was one of the happiest of my life.”

Gravid? Momo thinks. The word is familiar, but she just can’t place it.

“OH!” Ken perks up next to her. “Does that mean your species hatch from eggs, Mr. Shrimp?”

“Yes!” The alien responds with a smile. “We’re semi aquatic, and our eggs come with a soft shell, so they need to be laid in the water. The parents dig out small tide pools for them to incubate in and watch over them until they hatch. My wife was lucky enough to lay three beautiful eggs.”

“Three?” Momo asks. “But… you only have Chiquitita.”

The alien nods as he continues. “The other two didn’t make it to hatching. It’s a common thing. We usually lay clutches anywhere from three to eight in size, but usually only one or two will actually hatch.”

“Oh… that’s…” Momo sinks into Ken’s side, raising a hand to press on her stomach. “…So sad…”

She feels an arm wrap around her waist and looks up to see Ken’s face etched with worry for her. Momo had no doubt that her husband would whisk her away from here in a heartbeat if she asked. She could picture it, ditching the car to carry her over the rooftops and city streets in his Yokai form, just them and the open sky.

Momo just shakes her head, and lets it rest on his shoulder.

“It can be a sad thing.” Momo looks up as Mr. Shrimp continues. “But it just means they weren’t ready for a second life yet.”

Both Ken and Momo blink at him, confused. “W-what does that mean?” Ken asks.

The mantas shrimp alien stares back at them, before he seems to realize something and chuckles to himself a bit.

“Ah, but of course, sometimes I forget we don’t come from the same culture.”

How do you forget that? Momo wonders.

“Well, my people believe that every egg that’s laid holds a soul from someone who lived long ago. When they hatch, it means the soul has chosen to be reborn and start a new life. If they don’t, well, it just means they weren’t ready yet. They return to the Great Uwyen, guardian of the cycle of death and rebirth, and wait for another chance to be born again.”

“Wow… that’s beautiful.” Ken says.

Momo only finds herself able to stare in wonder.

“It is a comfort.” Mr. Shrimp says. His expression has changed to something more somber and thoughtful.

They fall into silence for a bit, the sounds of Granny Mahjong Night feeling like distant background noise. Mr. Shrimp raps a boxing gloved hand on the table and looks up.

“Why don’t you two come with me for a minute?”

It’s not a far walk from the Ayase shrine to the farm Mr. Shrimp works at, just down the road and around a curve in the mountain. It’s a quaint little homestead, the most impressive feature being the towering dairy cow barn. Mr. Shrimp and his son live on the property in a small single-story house the alien father built with his own hands. They’d worked and lived with the owner long enough to have been given a ton of privileges with how they stayed on site.

Mr. Shrimp lets out a hardy ‘I’m home’ as they step through the front door. A few moments later, a broad, flat head peaks around the end of the hall. All Momo and Ken see is a flash of a blur as something rushes down the hall and barrels into Mr. Shrimp.

“Dad! Welcome back!”

“Ha ha, Chiquitita, you rascal, settle! I was only gone for a few hours.”

“What, I can’t hug my dad just ‘cause he wasn’t gone long?”

Mr. Shrimp places a hand on his son’s head and gives it a shake that would ruffle his hair… if the alien had any.

“Hey, Chiquitita!”

The adolescent shrimp alien peaks over his dad’s shoulder to see a familiar pair of humans standing behind him.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Ayase!” The boy beams as he bounces over to them.

“Hey, did you get taller?” Ken asks, holding up a hand to measure Chiquitita’s head against his chest.

Chiquitita had officially entered his adolescence recently. No longer the tiny, pudgy baby often doted on by Aira, he was now tall and gangly, with lengthy arms and the beginnings of his own set of boxing gloves taking shape. He had a lot more resemblance to his dad’s underwater punching form, if not for the flat, disk-like head plate. Mr. Shrimp had said this was normal, his size would fill out as he put on muscle farther into adulthood. Now, Chiquitita stood to just at Ken’s pectorals, and his growing was far from done.

The young alien plants his hands on his hips proudly. “Yep! Just you wait, soon I’ll be taller than you and Mr. Enjoji!”

“Looking forward to it,” Ken says brightly.

Momo watches the scene with warmth in her eyes. She doesn’t know how she didn’t notice this sooner, but Ken’s really a natural with kids.

“Alright, you head to bed.” Mr. Shrimp pats his son on the back to urge him along. “It’s a school night, remember?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Chiquitita rolls his eyes, but obeys without much fuss, skipping his way back to his room.

“So, how have the teen years been going?” Momo asks once the kid is out of sight.

“Well, I should think. Chiquitita’s always been a good boy, I wouldn’t expect him to suddenly start causing trouble.”

“Lucky you. I remember being a nightmare for my grandma.” Momo says with a shake of her head.

“Well, it’s never all easy. Never all difficult, either.”

The alien leaves Momo with that thought as he leads the way deeper into the house. He comes to a stop at the end of another hallway, one that connects to what looks like the bedrooms. Momo looks around, lost for a moment, until she spots the barely visible hatch in the ceiling.

Mr. Shrimp reaches the cord hanging down with ease, giving it a solid tug to reveal a ladder leading up to a dark, dusty space above.

“I’ve got some things in the attic I’d like you to see.”

Mr. Shrimp makes his way up first, and Momo can see a yellow light flick on from somewhere out of sight. She looks to Ken, who looks back at her, excitement clear on his face. He extends a hand to his wife.

“After you?”

Seated in the tiny crawl space, Momo and Ken watch as Mr. Shrimp digs through a pile of long-forgotten boxes and bundles, muttering to himself as he searches for… something.

Honestly, Momo can’t even imagine what the alien could possibly have to show them. But she waits patiently anyway, content to sit in Ken’s presence as they watch the shrimp man work.

There’s a sudden ‘a-ha!’ as Mr. Shrimp seems to find what he’s looking for, and soon the alien has several large boxes pulled out and placed in front of the couple.

“Uh, what’s this?” Momo asks.

“Take a look.” Mr. Shrimp gestures to the boxes.

Momo glances at Ken, who shrugs before getting up and snapping the lid off a box. Momo sees his eyes go wide behind his glasses.

“These are…” he reaches in and pulls out a bundle of fabric. He unfolds it, and holds it up, to reveal distinct sleeves for arms and legs. “Baby clothes?”

Momo gasps, and rushes over to her husband’s side. More onesies lay folded neatly in the box, alongside some strange, colored shapes that Momo thinks may be toys. Mr. Shrimp chuckles, and she looks up to see the alien watching them with warmth in his strange, crab-stalk eyes.

“When I made the choice to move Chiquitita to Earth, I packed up everything we had without putting much thought into it. Which meant, I ended up bringing along all his old baby things. I always told myself I’d go through it and throw some stuff out when I got the chance, but I never did. And now I’m glad for it.”

Momo stares at the alien. “You mean…?”

“Go ahead, pick out whatever you want for your little bundle. Parenting is expensive, if I can help take some of that load, I’d like to.”

Momo feels an intense wave of gratitude flow through her chest, throat tightening at the compassion and care their oldest ally has shown. For a moment, she’s at a loss for words, until she hears some sniffling noises coming from next to her.

She knows that sound, and sure enough, she turns to see Ken, brushing away water from his eyes.

“Th-thank you, Mr. Shrimp. Really, this is amazing!” The man says, voice thick with tears

“Ha ha, after everything you and your family have done for me, this is the least I could offer. And please, you’re both adults now, call me by my first name!”

“Yeah, no, not happening.” Momo cuts the offer down completely deadpan.

That gets both Ken and Mr. Shrimp to start laughing.

“Seriously,” Mr. Shrimp continues. “Take as much as you like. I’ll leave you both to it, just let me know if you need help carrying anything.”

Momo smiles at the alien. “You got it.”

The mantis shrimp’s stash proves to be an amazing resource. Momo’s almost stunned with the haul they end up lugging back to the car. They took a few of the onesies, but not many. Turns out, baby shrimp alien proportions vary somewhat from baby humans, but a few of them look the right size and shape, so they grabbed those. They also took a few of the toys, and a ring that apparently administers some kind of pain relief serum when bit down on. ‘Helped a lot with Chiquitita’s teething,’ Mr. Shrimp had said. But Momo’s favorite find was definitely the crib.

It seemed unassuming at first; a white, featureless egg tucked at the bottom of one box. But once Momo took it out and Mr. Shrimp showed them where to press, it had unfolded into an oval-shaped bed covered with a clear, force field dome. It hovered a few feet off the ground, rocking gently as if pushed by an invisible breeze.

Then, Mr. Shrimp had rattled off some of its features. It could double as a crib and baby carrier, depending on what you set it too. It could play music, rock itself, had a built-in baby monitor, its own temperature control, and plenty of attachments for toys and mobiles.

Momo had almost squealed at the wonderful device, and all but ripped it out of Mr. Shrimp’s hands in her excitement to get it to the car.

Now, she watches Ken fumble as he tries to squeeze everything they wanted into the trunk of their little, beat-up Toyota.

Hm, Momo thinks as she watches her husband. Fuck, we might need to get a bigger car…

Eh, a problem for another day.

Ken lets out a sigh as he finally manages to close the trunk on their treasures, lifting himself up to sit on the top of it. Momo quickly joins him, batting his hand away as he tries to help her up.

“I’m not that pregnant yet,” she admonishes him.

“Sorry, just trying to get into the habit,” he replies with a grin.

They spend a moment together, looking up at the stars. The cool night air prickles against Momo’s skin, warring with the warmth she can feel coming from her childhood home, which is still bright with lights and activity.

She wonders when spending time with Ken drew her in more than socializing at a big, rambunctious table, and then concludes she doesn’t really care when it happened. She’s always liked spending time with him.

Momo leans her head on his shoulder.

“Remember when you first got this thing?”

“Hm?” he asks, still watching the sky.

“The car, dummy!” She knocks into his shoulder.

Ken laughs. “Yeah, I remember. First adult purchase with my first adult paycheck.”

“Still the only one of us with our own vehicle.”

“Well, I did it more for myself, anyway. Might have gone a little nuts with my first taste of real freedom.”

Momo’s quiet for a moment. “…You know what I remember?”

“What?”

“I remember the first time you picked me up in it. Said you had a surprise for date night, then you come trundling along in this red monstrosity-“

“Hey!”

“-and we just spent the whole night driving through the countryside. Didn’t make any stops, didn’t have a destination, we just… went.”

Ken hums, and Momo feels his weight sink into hers. “Lot of good memories in this car,” he says.

And there were. She remembers all the kisses shared over the center console, the road trips where their sizable group had somehow crammed into two rows of seats, the nights spent star gazing on the hood just like this, the ‘just married’ sign drawn on the back window as they sped away from the wedding venue. Yeah, a lot of good memories.

“Some new ones, too, hopefully.” Momo rubs her lower stomach meaningfully.

Ken doesn’t respond, and she looks up to see his eyes still locked on the sky, his mouth dipped in a subtle frown.

She knows that look.

“Okay, what’s up?” She turns to face him completely, tugging at his shirt collar so he has to look at her.

At first, he just gives her that wide-eyed Okarun look before his face finally relaxes into its true emotion. They were way too good at reading each other to bother hiding for long.

“I was just… thinking about family.”

“What about it?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“Well… we’ve told all of… our family. All of yours… I’m just…”

He trails off, but Momo waits patiently for him to finish.

“I’m not sure if I should tell my family.”

Momo blinks. Somehow, she both expected and didn’t expect this. She knew Ken’s relationship with his family was… difficult, but it was something she knew she couldn’t really help him with. Just stand at his side and offer support while these living ghosts drifted in and out of his life at their own whims.

They’d been nothing but nice and cordial to her, but only in that surface level, society approved politeness. She had no idea what they really thought of her, or if they thought anything of her at all. But she never lost sleep about it. That was just her nature, if they didn’t think she was worth the time, she wasn’t gonna wait around for them to change their mind.

But Ken, well… his feelings had always seemed to fluctuate. Stuck between yearning for connection and rejecting it all together.

Momo looks down, thinking for a moment, before linking her arm through his and pulling the taller man down to rest his head on her shoulder.

“They’re your family, so it’s your decision. But I’ll back you up, whatever the choice.”

Ken’s quiet, and Momo just takes in the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his hand in hers.

“…Thanks, Momo.”

She smiles and turns to plant a kiss on his hairline. “Anytime, Okarun.”

He snuggles a little farther into her, and for a moment that might be five seconds or an eternity, they just enjoy each other’s company.

But nothing lasts forever.

The door to the Ayase house bursts open, letting the noise and clamor leach out at full volume. Momo looks up, perturbed at having their moment interrupted, to see a frazzled-looking Rokuro standing in the doorway.

“Ah, um… Momo Woman-Person,” He addresses her in that weird Serpo speech pattern. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m afraid your presence is required inside…”

“Say it again, Shit-heel!” Momo hears Turbo Granny’s raspy yell clearly from across the courtyard.

“I’ll say it til I’m blue in the face!” It’s Bonga now. “You. Are. A. Big. Smelly. Cheater!”

The sounds of thrown objects and splintering wood follow soon after. Momo rolls her eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

She slides off the car trunk, stomping over to the door with her usual Momo pout-walk. She looks back at Ken from over her shoulder, flashing him that characteristic smile.

“I’ll be just a sec, kay?”

“Kay,” Ken responds, giving her a wave as she disappears inside her house.

Ken sits there for a moment longer, smiling to himself. Momo always had a way of leaving him with a stupid grin on his face. Then, he pulls out his phone, opening the lock screen and flipping over to his contacts. He stares at it for a moment, before clicking the button and holding it up to his ear.

It rings. Once, twice, then picks up.

“Hey, Mom? It’s me. I’ve got something to tell you…”