I Would Become A Constellation (To Be Next To You), 2/6

[astrangestorm]

Nino had prayed for the wrong thing.

On the way back to his quarters, he’d shut his eyes, praying desperately that he hadn’t been matched up with Matsumoto Jun for Project Papa-Mama. He liked Jun, honestly he did, but if there was a Hell, it would be a Hell where he had to co-parent a sack of rice with Matsumoto Jun.

With the slow, complaining exodus of crew members from the flight deck, Nino had had plenty of time to envision the horrors of such a match-up. Matsumoto Jun drawing a face on the sack of rice with painstaking detail. Matsumoto Jun shouting at Nino that he wasn’t putting in a million percent effort at being a father figure. Matsumoto Jun howling at him for being a bad influence on the fake baby with his sarcasm. “Babies can detect your sour attitude!” Jun would declare, cussing him out worse than if there was a smudge on his precious Kitsune.

So where Nino had been praying for a match with anyone-but-Jun, he’d forgotten about the incident from the other day. The incident where he’d suffered from extreme foot-in-mouth syndrome.

Because when Nino logged on to his personal computer console in his quarters, the name staring back at him as his Project Papa-Mama assignment was Lieutenant Sakurai Sho, Navigation Crew (Chief).

“No,” Nino mumbled, thumping his head against his desk.

How did this happen? And could he petition for a switch? After all, the one and only time he’d met Sakurai Sho, it had gone quite poorly. It wasn’t every day a superior officer threatened to write him up for insubordination.

Raising his head again, he frowned when he discovered that his eyes had not been playing tricks on him. There it still was, Sakurai Sho, his partner for the next month on this absurd assignment.

He read through the additional notes and directives. The sim-child had the same needs as any human child. The sensors inside the squishy device would go off when the child was in need of feeding or a bath or a nap. Each sim-child had a specific code that would be synched with a “parenting diary”. If the sensor went off, stating that it was time to feed baby, Nino or Sakurai would have to key it in within a certain time limit or it would be logged against them as neglect.

If they were on duty when the sim-child required attention, they were still expected to act. Consider a temporary shift change, the assignment directives suggested. Work together with your partner to get on a set schedule for balancing work and your “new family.”

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever read,” he said aloud to his empty quarters, shaking his head.

He especially wasn’t interested in balancing work and a “new family” with Sakurai Sho. But his interest was of no interest to Lieutenant Commander Matsushima and the crackpots at JSA Medical who’d come up with this useless waste of time.

Nino didn’t hate children. Far from it, he liked kids. They had a refreshing honesty that was all but crushed out of them by the time they became grown-ups. His sister had two children back home on Earth, and Nino had been thrilled to become an uncle each time. He loved his niece and nephew more than anything.

But at the same time, children didn’t belong here. Where he worked. Where he lived. When a lot of people in JSA hit 30, they tended to start thinking long term. Do you contract on for another long assignment? Do you consider getting discharged to pursue a personal life? Some people stayed in JSA for life - very few of them started families, and even the ones who did get married usually shacked up with someone else on their crew who was in it for the long haul.

Nino loved his niece and nephew, but he honestly hadn’t given a lot of thought to a family of his own someday. He’d just started a new assignment, so work was the priority, like it had been for all these years. And long-term, serious relationships weren’t arrangements he sought out.

For some, the emptiness of space increased loneliness. It led people down the path of poorly thought out relationships with someone they already worked closely with, or even worse, with a superior or someone they were immediately superior to. That led to heartache and workplace friction at the same time. Maybe even reassignment elsewhere in the fleet. Nino preferred the anonymity of a shore leave hook-up or one night stands with a crewmate who wasn’t from the flight deck, someone who wouldn’t bother him again, get clingy, expect something from him other than perhaps more sex.

Nino liked his freedom. To work as he pleased. To spend his free time as he pleased. He had just turned thirty-three, but he didn’t live his life according to a pre-set timeline. By age this, you must do this…that sort of thing rubbed him the wrong way. Becoming someone’s husband, becoming someone’s father…that was a level of responsibility he couldn’t yet wrap his head around.

But here it was, staring him right in the face. Simulation or no, the kind of life and responsibility Nino neither wanted nor sought out was being forced on him. And it came in the form of Lieutenant Sakurai Sho, Navigation Crew (Chief). And the sack of rice that would be theirs to protect and love.

The computer started blabbing at him. “Incoming audio call from Petty Officer First Class, Crewman Specialist Ohno Satoshi.”

Nino rolled his eyes, seeing Ohno’s crew ID photo pop up in the corner of his screen. “Accept incoming audio call.”

“Nino, you’re not gonna believe this!” Ohno said, his voice filling Nino’s small crew quarters with merriment. And though Ohno had been super irritated on the way back to their quarters earlier, he didn’t sound that way now.

“Hmm,” Nino replied, “there was a computer glitch and you didn’t get an assignment.”

Ohno’s chuckle was rather endearing. “No, no. I got one, I got one.”

“It’s with Yama-chan and you can bully him into doing all the Papa-Mama work himself? That’s what I’d have done, but I didn’t get him.”

“No,” Ohno said, laughing again. “Not Yama-chan. But you’re kind of close. It’s Koike-sensei!”

Nino had to smile. Kind of close? Koike Eiko-sensei was one of the doctors in the Suzaku’s sickbay. She’d been the one to give Nino his first physical when he boarded a few weeks back. She was funny, no-nonsense. She’d ordered him to start using one of the crew gyms on board because she could “spot a lazy bastard a light year away.” Nino had liked her a lot, even if he had yet to set foot in the gym.

“You and Koike-sensei,” Nino mused. “What’s the advantage? Because she’s going to expect you to pull your weight.”

“I know,” Ohno said, “but she’s a doctor, right? She knows about health and nutrition and all that stuff. She’ll tell me what I have to do with the sim-child. I won’t have to think of anything, she’ll just tell me. It’s perfect!”

Speaking of spotting a lazy bastard a light year away.

“Congratulations, Ohno-san,” he answered. “I wish you and Koike-sensei all the best.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

He heard Ohno’s familiar chuckle of disbelief. “You don’t sound very happy.”

“Very perceptive. Have you read through the instructions? Does it say anything about switching partners?”

“It’s that bad?”

“Has potential.”

He heard Ohno hum for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I’m not seeing anything about switching. Who is it? Oh no, it’s not Matsumoto-kun, is it?”

Co-parenting a sack of rice with Jun was actually sounding more promising right about now. At least Nino could anticipate Jun’s behavior after so many years handling his moods and learning how to stay on his good side.

“Remember our friend from the bridge who likes to leave shuttle hatches open?”

“The one you pissed off?”

“I didn’t…” Nino began protesting before shutting up. It had been an exchange full of mutual dislike. He lowered his voice, grumbling a little. “Yes, the one I pissed off.”

Ohno laughed at him. “Wow. Have fun with that.”

Nino sighed. Assignments were out, and they’d been given a specific time to go up to Lieutenant Commander Matsushima’s offices to pick up the sim-child. He had no choice but to meet up with Lieutenant Sakurai tomorrow afternoon following his shift on the flight deck.

“Fun is not the word I’d use, Ohno-san,” he said. “I better go. It’s my last night as a childless man.”

“I say get drunk,” Ohno advised, still chuckling at him. “Nighty night.”

The call ended, and Nino spun lazily in his chair.

He wasn’t an officer, merely a high school-educated mechanic. His quarters weren’t much to brag about. His promotion to Petty Officer First Class back on the Hakutaka had given him a place to himself, having spent all of his Third Class and Second Class years bunking with another crewmate. On board the Suzaku, he was still only entitled to not much more than his bed, his console, chair, closet, and private toilet. He still had to share bathing facilities with the other crewmates on deck 8. Nino’s quarters were barely wider than his bed and nightstand.

He couldn’t help laughing, still spinning in his disbelief. “This is no place to raise a child,” he said aloud, wondering just where his precious new sack of rice might sleep.

-

He stepped out of his jumpsuit, shoving it in his laundry bag and setting it in the corner for the cleaning crew to take. He slipped into his off-duty fatigues, deciding to button up his jacket and comb his hair to look halfway presentable when he met up with Lieutenant Sakurai Sho. He’d already ruined their first impression, but maybe his second impression would be more tolerable.

Despite his irritation about this entire project, he’d somehow slept through the night. And then he’d managed to report for duty and get through his shift without agonizing over it. Nino had long possessed the magical ability to switch off unpleasant thoughts. It was easy to get lost in his work, in every tiny detail that required his full attention.

He left his quarters, heading for the lift and riding up to deck 3. Ohno had met with Koike-sensei earlier that afternoon, had been allowed to cut out of the last hour of their shift in order to go up and claim their sim-child. He hadn’t had time to do much more than send Nino a quick message saying that the pick-up process was well organized.

Nino emerged from the lift, heading along the port side in search of the Counseling Offices. The main Sickbay was also on deck 3, but on the other side. Nino hadn’t had much need of any counseling services since he’d only been aboard for a month. Homesickness, job stress, personal problems…every ship this big had a dedicated staff of counselors and psychologists to meet with. Today those offices had been turned over to an assembly line of parenthood.

He looked in from the outside, peeking without shame through the glass walls that lined the exterior of the Counseling Offices. In one office, crew were being checked in, their dog tags being scanned to confirm their identities. At the next station, the two partners were each handed a small tablet, similar to the ones they used on the flight deck to track their work. Must be the parenting diaries, Nino realized. And then at the third station, there were multiple staff members distributing the “babies.”

Nino peered through the glass, seeing staff members yank one of the sacks out of a crate and hand it to another staff member, who’d then scan some sort of code on it with a tablet. Then the “parents” were also instructed to scan their kid. From there, they were allowed to walk off with it. Nino didn’t recognize any of the crew members in here, although they did share one thing in common. Nobody looked too happy to be here.

“Crewman Specialist.”

Nino jolted at the man’s voice, nearly streaking the glass with his hand as he bumped against it in his surprise. He turned, finding Sakurai Sho once again, still in his duty uniform. Nino had to admit that it looked good on him. Some people were made for jumpsuits. Some people were made for duty blues. Sakurai Sho was made to fill out a JSA uniform. And fill it out well.

He inclined his head, hoping he didn’t look as startled and nervous as he felt when he met Sakurai’s gaze. There wasn’t as much overt hostility as there’d been in their first meeting, but the day was still young.

“What are the odds, sir?” Nino said. “Us getting matched up?” After our first pleasant and not at all awkward encounter, he thought.

“I haven’t calculated that,” Sakurai replied.

“I wasn’t asking you to…” he trailed off. A month of this to look forward to. He cleared his throat. “Let’s work well together, then, sir.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Sakurai responded. “I’m working a double shift and I have to be back on the bridge in half an hour.”

“Okay,” Nino replied. No small talk then.

Not feeling bold enough to walk ahead of him, Nino trailed Sakurai into the Counseling Offices, finding Lieutenant Commander Matsushima herself was manning the first station. She smiled warmly at Sakurai. Though he’d been so grouchy already, he plastered on a remarkably affable smile in front of his superior officer.

“Lieutenant Commander, good afternoon.”

“Lieutenant Sakurai, thank you for your cooperation. I know that your position is more stressful than most aboard the Suzaku. I appreciate your willingness to participate.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’m happy to lead by example,” Sakurai said, and Nino couldn’t help but look at him in disbelief. Who was this clone and what had he done with the real Sakurai Sho, who’d been bitching and grumbling just seconds ago?

Matsushima only regarded Nino with a polite smile before tapping something on her tablet. “Your tags, please. A formality, I know, but we’re aiming for full participation.”

Nino undid the first few buttons of his jacket, pulling out the silver tag he wore on a chain just like everyone else aboard. Instead of unbuttoning his uniform, Sakurai tilted his head back, roughly shoving his hand under his collar to yank on his chain. Nino swallowed at the strong line of his jaw, the bob of his Adam’s apple. Sakurai held his tag out for Matsushima with a proud smile.

Show off.

Matsushima scanned them both, nodding. “I have here before me the real Lieutenant Sakurai Sho and…” She offered Nino that same smile of I have no idea who you are. “…Petty Officer First Class Ninomiya Kazunari. Thank you both for participating and for arriving on time. Good luck!”

He followed Sakurai again, lining up to receive what turned out to be their “parenting tablets.” The man in charge explained that the tablets were the way their progress would be tracked. If the “baby” needed to be fed, they obviously couldn’t feed it for real, but the tablet would instruct them to tick a box for feeding time. They’d be required to do the same when putting the sim-child to sleep and when waking them come morning. The tablet would know all.

“Does it cry?” Nino asked. “The baby?”

“It chimes,” the counselor admitted, offering them a sad smile. “I’m going to hate that sound just as much as a real baby screaming before too long.”

Sakurai laughed, patting the man on the shoulder. “We’ll all get through this just fine, won’t we?”

But Nino didn’t miss the tight grip Sakurai kept on his “Papa-Mama Tablet” as they left the second station behind and queued up for the main event. It had to be exhausting, Nino thought with a tiny smile, being a bridge officer, knowing that everyone knew you and not really knowing anyone in return. Knowing that almost everyone you met was ranked lower than you were.

Everyone knew that the Chief Navigator was the one who plotted out FTL jumps. It was a collaborative effort between the ship’s main nav computer and the Navigator themselves, ensuring that the ship moved through space safely. Ensuring that a ship didn’t jump into the path of a comet or rematerialize into the side of a mountain. It required a lot of skill, so Nino would have to admire Sakurai Sho for that at least.

As a parent, however, he had no idea.

There were four other partnered teams ahead of them, the queue not really moving, and Nino broke the silence between them, knowing he was taking yet another risk.

“Double shift huh? Sucks.”

“I volunteered for it.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

Sakurai looked at him askance. “My colleague was feeling under the weather. I’m happy to step in.”

“Is that something you do on the regular, sir? Work double shifts?”

“No, only if necessary, but I don’t mind it.” The Lieutenant was definitely suspicious of his line of questioning now. “Is it different on the flight deck?”

“Of course we don’t do anything important like jumping the ship,” Nino said, hoping he didn’t sound as bitter as he could have, seeing the awestruck way people were looking at Sakurai Sho. Officers like Sakurai were on the bridge - a place few other crew would ever visit. The place where all the big decisions were made and everyone else had to follow them. “The Chief just rotates us around. It’s his call on who will fill in where. It’s not a volunteer thing.”

“I see.”

“And working a double shift is dangerous,” Nino continued, realizing instantly that he’d once again said something he shouldn’t have. He’d literally just implied that Sakurai Sho was putting the ship in danger. “I mean…I mean that there’s a lot of activity on the flight deck. A lot of close work, tedious and repetitive work. Two shifts back to back on the flight deck, it’s, uh, it’s…uh…”

Sakurai raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for Nino to try and crawl back out of the hole he’d just dug himself into.

“Lots of…loud…loud noises. And uh, physical movement. Very detail-oriented job, you see. So a double shift. Right. It’s not advisable, is all,” Nino finished weakly.

“Noted,” Sakurai said. “I’ll do my best not to kill us all.”

Nino shut up, wanting to kick himself for saying something so stupid. This was really unlike him, too. Despite being the type of person who preferred his own company most of the time, he’d been aboard ships for a long time now. He understood the rhythms, the people, the banter. Awkward conversation was rare for him. What the hell was it about Sakurai Sho that turned him into a babbling fool?

They made it to the front of the line, and when the crew member held out the sack with the thick gray cover, Sakurai gallantly held out his arms to take it. They were both instructed to scan the code on the backside of the sack, Nino’s new Papa-Mama Tablet lighting up successfully.

“Any technical issues, please report it to us,” the crew member stated. “Everyone here in our offices has been trained to troubleshoot baby problems.”

“Thank you very much,” Sakurai said, turning around with the sim-child in his arms and walking off without so much as a word to Nino.

That left Nino to hurry after him once more, trailing him like a sad puppy. Sakurai was faster than Nino expected, halfway down the corridor before he caught up with him.

“Wait!” Nino said. “Lieutenant!”

Sakurai finally paused, turning around and offering him another irritated smirk. “Yes?”

“Uh…you’re just taking him?”

“Him?” Sakurai leaned back against the wall, hugging the sack of rice against himself. His condescending smile was way too handsome. “How do you know it’s a him?”

“Did you want to decide on that now?” Nino asked, fumbling with the tablet in his hand. “A name or something?”

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Sakurai said, an impatient edge to his voice. “It’s a quiet day, so I’ll keep Junior up with me on the bridge for second shift. Then I’ll drop by later this evening so you can take him overnight. I’ll send you a message about my availability tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” Nino asked. What was with this guy? “Your availability?”

“Ninomiya, we hit the Kuiper Belt in three days and I’ll be jumping us to Jupiter. I’ve got meetings with Engineering to perform checks on the FTL, I have to have back-up routes plotted in case of other traffic in the area, and then I take part in senior staff meetings daily. Once we’re back to Earth, I’ll be able to take the lead again and…”

“Just hold on a moment!” Nino said, raising his voice loud enough for another pair of crew members to turn around where they were waiting by the lifts. He licked his lips, infuriated. “Lieutenant, there’s no ‘taking the lead’ in this.”

Sakurai held out the sim-child, annoyed. “Do you want it now then? I can try and find some time tomorrow.”

“You’re not understanding me. We have to work together.”

“What part of the orders I gave you are unclear? What part of those orders aren’t about shared responsibility?”

“You don’t give me orders on this,” Nino said decisively, seeing the look on Sakurai’s face sour in an instant. “The whole point of this project, sir, is that I have an equal say. Working together doesn’t mean Ninomiya takes the kid until Sakurai feels like making time for it. This is 50-50. You are my superior, granted, but not in this. Not in this, sir.”

“Ninomiya…”

“No,” he said, stomping his foot. “No, you don’t get to back off and claim that your job is more important or more essential than mine. I’m a member of this crew just like you, and I have important duties and responsibilities too. Just because you outrank me doesn’t mean you can push me around. We’re going to work out a schedule, you and me, and we’re going to keep this fair. If I’m going to be inconvenienced, Lieutenant, then so are you.”

Before Sakurai could protest, a gentle chime emitted from the sack in Sakurai’s arms. Four notes repeated twice and then the tablet in Nino’s hand lit up, as did the tablet where Sakurai had shoved it in the pocket of his uniform slacks.

Nino looked at the screen. He smirked, showing it to Sakurai.

Please give baby a name!

Sakurai’s eyes were wicked then. “How about Noisy, like his papa?”

“How about Arrogant, like his other papa?” Nino shot back.

Sakurai actually laughed at that. “Very good. You’re a passionate fellow, Ninomiya-san. Anyhow, all the men in the Sakurai family, at least in the last several generations have names that begin with S. Any traditions in your family?”

“No.”

“Then how about Shota?”

“Fine,” Nino said, keying it in to the tablet. He didn’t care enough to fight for anything different. The screen changed and now at the top there was a box containing a photograph of a baby with a cute little tuft of black hair. To the left of the photograph was the name SHOTA. “Oh no, it has a face now.”

“Ah, this is too real,” Sakurai admitted, turning the sack of rice in his arms. From the sound of it, the thing really did just have rice inside. And a crazy sensor. But mostly rice. “Look, I’m sorry if I insulted you. I’m not used to people being so…”

“Critical?”

“No,” Sakurai replied, laughing gently. Nino preferred that sound to Sakurai’s stubbornness. “No, I receive plenty of criticism from superiors. But it’s constructive and job-related. What I’m not used to is people telling me how to schedule my life. I’m a bit…particular about that sort of thing.”

“So am I,” Nino said. “Look. You said you’ll come drop him off later. That’s fine with me, it is. I’m on deck 8, so if you want to stop by we can work on a schedule that works for both of us. Especially now that our bag of baby has a face and a name. I want to be on the same page about this stupid project, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

“Then I’ll see you this evening.”

Sakurai headed for the lift, “Shota” held protectively in his arms. “Say bye bye,” Sakurai said, shaking the awkward sack a little.

Nino waved, unable to keep from smiling in return.

-

He had just gotten back from dinner when the chime went off at his door. Checking the monitor, he was confused when he saw a strange man in duty blues holding a sack of rice. Well, a sim-child.

He pressed the intercom button. “Yes, who is it?”

The guy had a friendly face and a big smile, holding the sim-child protectively in his long arms. “Yo! You’re Ninomiya, right?”

Nino held in a sigh of complaint, seeing the Lieutenant’s insignia at the guy’s collar and the silver star above his breast pocket. Another bridge officer, just like Sakurai. “Yes, I’m Ninomiya.” It’s on the nameplate outside my door, he didn’t say.

“Hey there, Sho-chan wanted me to drop him off,” the guy said, wiggling the sack of rice.

Sho-chan?

“Lieutenant Sakurai?”

“Yup.”

Nino pressed the button beside his door, allowing it to slide open. The lanky Lieutenant held out the sack of rice. Nino took it, holding his “son” in his arms for the first time. It was an awkward experience.

“And you are?”

“Me? Aiba Masaki, at your service,” the man said in his breathy voice, smiling from ear to ear. “Chief Tactical Officer.”

Nino shuffled Shota to his left side, holding out his right hand and letting Lieutenant Aiba shake it enthusiastically. The Chief Tactical Officer was responsible for the Suzaku’s defenses, its shielding, as well as its offensive weaponry. “Wow, not every day I meet someone like you.”

Aiba was still smiling. Nino wondered if there was something wrong with him. “Sho-chan is in a meeting with Captain Inohara right now and since I was rotating off, he asked me to drop your kid off here. He didn’t exactly want to go into the Captain’s office with that thing, no offense.”

“Right,” Nino said.

“Oh, and he told me to tell you he’ll come by whenever his meeting’s over.”

Nino nodded. “Well, thank you very much, Lieutenant. I appreciate it.”

Aiba-san stared at him, and Nino could only stare back. After a too-long silence, Nino cleared his throat.

“Um, Lieutenant? Do you need something else from me?” This was the guy they depended on to fire their gun batteries if they came under attack?

Aiba waved a hand in front of his face. “No, no, sorry! It’s just…you don’t look like Sho-chan described.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “And how did he describe me?”

Aiba leaned forward, barely holding in a giggle. “He said you were disagreeable. And a slouch.”

Nino put his finger back on the button for his door. “If there’s nothing else, Lieutenant? I’m sure my child is about to whine for my attention.”

Disagreeable? Nino was the one who looked ‘disagreeable’? What the hell did that even mean?

“See you around, Ninomiya!” Aiba was able to say before Nino shut the door in his face. Superior officer or no.

“Disagreeable,” Nino said aloud, moving over to the bed to set down Shota. He found himself addressing the bag of rice, if only because it wasn’t as odd as talking to himself. “I’m the disagreeable one?”

Shota, being a bag of rice with a sensor inside, did not react.

Nino growled, reaching for his parenting tablet. There was a “Custody” setting on it which denoted which parent was currently watching the child. Throughout the afternoon, the Custody setting had been set to “Sakurai Sho.” While Nino’s tablet had lit up with alerts, it hadn’t made any noise or caused him any serious disturbance since he had apparently been off the clock.

He was glad to see that Sakurai had been fairly attentive. Notifications had gone out about feeding, about nap time, about a diaper change. Each of these had been checked off by Sakurai within a minute of the alert. Nino supposed that the little chime would be disruptive on the Suzaku’s bridge, so he’d taken care of things quickly.

Nino switched the Custody setting over to his name, and within seconds the chime went off. He’d only heard the chime the first time when it had prompted him to give Shota a name. But the chime the bag of rice was emitting now was really noisy, the same four notes over and over again while Nino’s tablet lit up with a new alert.

“Shota, you’re annoying!” he complained, the noisy chime filling his small quarters. The tablet informed him that it was time for Shota to be given a bath. Nino pressed his finger to the check box, and mercifully the chiming stopped.

Nino understood a little better why Sakurai hadn’t wanted to bring Shota into his personal meeting with the Captain, even though a family man like Inohara would understand better than most.

The minutes ticked by with no sign of Sakurai Sho, so Nino set to work on his own. Shota’s irritating chime went off twice in the next hour, once to be fed and again to be put down for a nap. Nino simply kept his tablet within reach, hitting the check box on the screen as soon as Shota started blaring for attention. He supposed this wasn’t the intention of the program, that he was expected to read the monitor and better understand his child’s needs, but he was a bit busy figuring out when he didn’t have to have Shota around at all.

He’d created a Parenting Calendar using one of the settings on his tablet. Since Sakurai couldn’t be bothered to make a timely appearance, Nino had gotten started without him. His lateness…Nino found that to be far more “disagreeable.” Nino filled in all of his anticipated shifts, making a note that he had Thursdays completely free and noting that he would take Shota for a bit longer on those days. He took every other night with the baby, assigning the night ahead to Sakurai out of spite for being late.

He made additional notes. When he usually took his dinner in the crew cafeteria. When he usually had a bath, since he was definitely not taking a bag of rice in there. When he liked to visit the baseball simulator on deck 14.

He had just about everything filled in when his door chimed. Nino looked over to his bed where Shota had obviously not moved. “Your Papa’s late,” he mumbled.

Opening the door, he found an utterly exhausted Sakurai Sho. Finally off duty after two shifts and a meeting with the Captain, he’d unbuttoned his uniform jacket, his gray shirt peeking out beneath. After their previous meetings, where Sakurai had been buttoned up and put together, Nino now learned that it was in fact possible to see a disheveled Lieutenant Sakurai.

“Sorry,” Sakurai said, scratching at the back of his head. “There’s a lot of activity around Jupiter right now. Trying to plot our jump there has not been fun.”

Nino had to admit that would be stressful. Jumping from the Kuiper Belt to Jupiter was a rather short jump compared to most. The further a ship jumped, the harder it was to calculate. The positions of the stars, the planets, space in general all those light years away, you had to do a lot of intelligent guesswork. You had to have correct star charts programmed into the nav computers. But you also had to make sure that you weren’t going to jump into the flight path of a 500-year comet the star charts hadn’t accounted for.

But short jumps had their challenges as well. All the countries of Earth with a space colonization program had their assigned star systems, just like the Japan Space Authority did. But their home solar system was a free-for-all, colonization of the planets and asteroids having begun years before the rest of the quadrant had been evenly divided up. Jupiter was surrounded by space stations from dozens of countries, its moons scattered with colonies from the Iberian Alliance, the United Russian Fleet, the Chinese Space Command, and several others. The space around Jupiter was crowded with their populations and hundreds of ships both military and civilian-operated going to and fro at any time.

Sakurai had to make sure they were jumping into a safe spot far enough away from that potential traffic jam. But he also had to make sure they were jumping into a safe spot that would keep them on schedule for their arrival on Earth. Nino had been through hundreds of jumps in his career, he was certain of it. He’d always known it was a risky thing, but it wasn’t his job to worry about it. Now he knew the person who was responsible. Now he knew the person who held all their lives in the balance.

But even though Nino sympathized with the guy and his challenging job, he wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

Nino stepped back. “Come on in, have a seat. You look like you’re about to drop.”

Sakurai’s face seemed almost grateful, but Nino could see the slightest hint of judgment as he had a seat in Nino’s chair. Being a bridge officer, and before that an academy graduate in the command track, Sakurai Sho had probably not had to live in quarters this small before.

“Since you were busy,” Nino continued, setting his tablet before Sakurai, “I went ahead and got started on a schedule.”

Sakurai set his own tablet down beside Nino’s. He tapped a button on his screen that said “Sync” and the information was instantly shared between them. Sakurai opened the calendar and immediately opened his mouth to protest.

“You were late,” Nino said immediately, cutting Sakurai off. “You get the baby tonight.”

“I need to sleep,” Sakurai protested.

“Which is why I’m taking him the next two nights. Since you have to jump us to Jupiter, I figured you’d want to be better rested then.”

“Oh.”

Nino sat down on the bed, watching Sakurai with a grin. “Unless that’s too…disagreeable.”

Sakurai looked over at him, flushing a bit.

“I met Lieutenant Aiba earlier. Nice guy.”

Sakurai held up a hand. “Ninomiya, I’m sorry…I was…”

“Frustrated to be paired with someone who slouches?”

Sakurai winced. “I told him that in confidence.”

Nino chuckled. “I do slouch though, I’ll admit it freely. I’m bending down, crawling under consoles all day on board those shuttles. It’s given me a hunchback in my old age.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

Sakurai rolled his eyes. “I’m thirty-four. Don’t ever say the word ‘old’ in my presence again please.”

“Noted, sir.” Nino paused. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“We’re both off-duty, but thanks for remembering,” Sakurai replied. He glanced back down at the tablet, looking through Nino’s rather detailed calendar and actually seeming to be impressed with it. “Go ahead.”

“When we meet like this…about Project Papa-Mama, I mean, do we still have to acknowledge ranks? It seems odd calling you ‘sir’ when I’m not on duty.”

Sakurai nodded. “It does. Sakurai-san is fine.”

Nino leaned back a little, grinning. “I have to call the father of my child ‘Sakurai-san’?”

Sakurai gripped the arms of the chair. “Ninomiya!”

Nino laughed. He’d known guys like Sakurai Sho in the fleet before. Utterly devoted to their jobs. Extremely smart, extremely serious people. They weren’t used to joking around unless they were with people at their own level. They had reputations to uphold. “I’m teasing you.”

If Nino didn’t know any better, he’d say Lieutenant Sakurai Sho was blushing. Adorably. “This whole project is weird.”

“It really is. But it’s just for a month, right? We’ll get through it. Together, if you’ll allow yourself to work with a disagreeable fellow like me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakurai muttered, trying to hold back an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry for describing you that way, Ninomiya-san. You’ve actually been very diligent.” He gestured down to the parenting tablet. “I appreciate you taking charge on this, I do.”

“You can just call me Nino, if you’d like. My friends call me that.”

“I’m your superior officer…”

“Yeah, but you’re also the father of my child.”

Sakurai shuddered. “I really wish you wouldn’t describe it that way. It sounds very…permanent.”

“So then I shouldn’t suggest that we refer to one another as Kazu-Papa and Sho-Papa?”

“Oh my god, definitely not.” Sakurai did allow himself to laugh, a hearty laugh that had him wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh, that would be a nightmare.”

Nino pretended to look offended. Sakurai was very easy to tease, and he intended to take advantage of it…at least while he could get away with it. “I thought Kazu-Papa was a cute moniker. I was going to have some Kazu-Papa and Sho-Papa friendship bracelets made.”

Sakurai held up a hand, still laughing, begging him to stop. “I’ll call you Nino! I’ll call you that if you please please please never say ‘Sho-Papa’ ever again!”

“Can I at least call you Sho-san?”

Sakurai finally calmed down, rubbing his eyes. He was going to fall asleep in Nino’s chair if he wasn’t careful. “Yeah, yeah, if I’m not on-duty, that’s fine.”

“Now would you like to add your own shifts to this calendar tonight or should we reschedule?”

“No, it’s fine. I came here to accomplish something. I’ll do it.”

Nino stopped his teasing, leaning forward as Sakurai went over each day on the schedule with him. They both worked first shift, which meant that one of them would always have Shota with them while they were on duty. They both agreed it wasn’t worth switching to another shift and then having to switch back in only a month. Sakurai’s position on the bridge was a key one, and Nino wasn’t too eager to put further demands on Chief Okada, who was already stuck shifting people because of Project Papa-Mama.

Even though Nino thought Sakurai was one of the busiest people on the ship, he sure didn’t carve out much alone time for himself where he actually could. When he wasn’t on duty, he was engaged in a bevy of activities, all scheduled with exactness. Nino watched as Sakurai keyed in four visits to the officers’ gym per week along with two soccer practices per week, an informal league made up of people from all over the ship. He had a working dinner with his Navigation team once a week, followed by a visit to the Suzaku’s astrometrics lab where his team inspected instruments and telescopes used in their FTL jump calculations.

As he tapped through each day, Sakurai remembered other dates and appointments. A scheduled haircut, dinner with a friend, a dental check-up in Sickbay. He occasionally filled in on piano for an Engineering crew jazz ensemble. Sakurai also undertook voluntary cross-training in other departments, an hour or two a week with Lieutenant Aiba and his tactical team or with Lieutenant Commander Matsuoka and the security team.

Nino didn’t have to ask him why he did something like that. Familiarizing yourself with all the key departments on a ship…it meant Sakurai had a lot of ambition. He wanted to be a Captain someday, there was no mistaking it.

As Sakurai entered all his appointments and meetings, Nino shrank back a little, intimidated. Compared to Sakurai, he did very little. He had few commitments, but Sakurai was already nodding, noting that he’d take Shota along to his soccer practice, that he’d manage somehow to split their “custody” equally.

Nino wondered if he really was being disagreeable.

“You don’t like to be alone, do you?”

Sakurai paused, finger poised over the tablet as he looked up and met Nino’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

Nino shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “We’re just…we’re very different, that’s all. I like time to myself. Or more like I need time to myself. Hours where I can just relax, watch video on the Net. Down time, you know? But you, Sho-san, you’ve always got something to keep you busy, running all over the ship.”

He looked back at the tablet. “I guess that’s true. Not that there’s anything wrong with how you spend your time. I think as long as you put in your duty time, how you spend your free hours is up to you.”

“I just didn’t really know how busy you were.”

“I don’t think about it that way,” Sakurai admitted. “I just…I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been this way.”

“And it’ll be okay? With Shota?”

He nodded in reply, finally allowing himself to yawn. “It’ll be okay. Well. I suppose I need to put this bag of rice to bed.”

Nino got to his feet, pulling Shota up. He’d only had him a few hours and he was already getting rid of him. He wondered if he was being unfair. But Sakurai took him without another complaint, heading for the door, parenting tablet in his pocket.

“Thanks for your hard work today,” Sakurai said, offering a tired smile.

Nino opened his door, letting Sakurai out into the corridor. He crossed his arms, feeling ashamed. He supposed those feelings would shift, keeping Shota and his noisy chime the next few nights in a row. “If you need to make any changes to the schedule, just give me a heads up.”

“I’m on deck 4. My quarters, I mean,” Sakurai said. He was still smiling, not at all the grouchy man he’d been earlier that day. Perhaps Nino had misjudged him a little, had caught him only in rough patches so far. “If you could come by before first shift tomorrow, that would be great.”

Nino usually slept in until the last minute, but given the overscheduled needs of his partner in this project, he supposed he could go a month without that kind of laziness.

“That’s fine.” He rested his hand against the doorframe, taking in the rather odd sight of his superior officer holding a bag of rice like it was some precious commodity. “I hope he doesn’t keep you up all night.”

“I’m a heavy sleeper,” Sakurai admitted. “So if we get any bad marks for missing something in the middle of the night, I accept full responsibility.”

Nino looked at his feet. “You still came down after your busy day. I appreciate it.”

“It’s fine.”

He looked back up, taking in Sakurai Sho with new understanding. His tired brown eyes, the slump of his shoulders, the gentle smiling curve of his mouth. Nino supposed that if he really did have to share parenting duties with someone, it didn’t hurt to share them with someone as accomplished as Lieutenant Sakurai.

Or as handsome, Nino thought, wishing he could stifle such an irresponsible feeling.

“Good night, Sho-san. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sakurai nodded. “Good night, Ninomi…” Nino’s breath caught when Sakurai stopped himself, his soft smile difficult to ignore. “I mean, good night, Nino.”

Part Three