[Pinbang] Anything so bright pt. 1
Title: Anything so bright
Disclaimer: Not mine, sad but true.
Word Count: 12.469
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: m-preg, and I should probably put a trigger warning for some controversial topics (i.e. racism, abortion...)
Summary: Jin thought that aliens were creatures out of sci-fi stories until the visitors came from another planet. When it seemed humans had learnt to accept the unveliebable things turn wrong, but Jin is already too deep into it to let go of the future that he now carries with him.
Author’s Notes: Well, this was quite a struggle to write. Out of my comfort zone, what with mpreg and all, but I can say I enjoyed it a lot, despite all the angsting its writing involved! Fic vaguely based on Genesis 30:3, by The Mountain Goats. Also, special thanks to my betas bellemainec and maayacola and probably pinkeuphoria1 too. ryogrande might have had something to do in me writing mpreg, too.
Jin is in class when it happens. It is third period and he has music lessons with a rambunctious class of first graders for whom music class mostly consists of singing children's songs loudly and out of-tune while he plays the guitar and tries to correct them. Sometimes Jin even manages to get them focused enough to play a few melodies with their recorders, but today is not one of those mornings and the class is so loud that later Jin thinks they would have missed it even if it had happened right outside the school.
One of the boys by the window points at something in the sky with a surprised shout and for a moment there is chaos while all the kids run to see, until Jin manages to make his way through the classroom and the barrier of overexcited first graders and sure, there’s something a little oddly shaped there but it is too far away and the sky too cloudy, so Jin doesn’t think anything of it because it could be a plane or a promotional zeppelin, one never knows these days. He commands the class back to their seats and by the end of the day he has forgotten about it.
Jin doesn’t watch TV very often, but he finds out the next day when he catches his co-workers ranting about aliens and invasions of Earth and honestly, he would have expected it from the kids but you would think the teachers are a little too old for that. He listens for a while without joining the conversation or paying much attention at all, but at night he sits down to watch the news after dinner for once.
It is a wonder he didn’t notice earlier, he thinks, because it is all over the place. The news show newspapers that scream the headlines with huge, bolded fonts: ALIENS IN JAPAN. The news hosts talk loudly with shocked voices and exaggerated gestures about the “newcomers from space”, as they call them, while Jin sits on his couch with a beer forgotten halfway to his mouth and his eyes about to pop out from their sockets. The hosts discuss the government’s approach towards the unbelievable situation, but Jin isn’t really listening and focuses on the lines on the lower part of the screen, describing the situation for those who like him were late to catch up with the news:
Yesterday afternoon several alien ships arrived at Earth, landing in various locations throughout Japan and other places of the world such as the United States and some European countries. The space visitors, of human appearance and pacific intentions, as stated by their leaders, speak fluent Japanese and have been promptly moved under strict security measures to a secluded area the location of which has not been revealed in order to protect them and the Japanese citizens while the Government decides the action plan to follow in an urgent meeting that started barely an hour after the incident, and has not yet finished.
Jin watches everything with a sense of unreality, of not really being there. He watches the space ship and it looks mostly like a slightly oddly shaped huge plane, but a plane after all. He shifts to the edge of the couch unconsciously as the image zooms in on the people slowly coming out of the ship. They look human, Japanese even, with dark hair and almond shaped eyes, and only the look in their eyes gives away they are not really human, too dark and deep and a bit lifeless or so Jin thinks; they remind him a bit of a fish’s eyes.
The news retransmits the alien - and it feels a bit wrong to think of them as such when they look just like him - leaders’ words, but Jin doesn’t really listen. He notices they speak fluent Japanese indeed, with a little funny quirky accent that doesn’t feel familiar but not entirely foreign either. They talk about wars, natural disasters and fleeing their planet, they talk about those left behind, about peaceful intentions, about a new life and new hope, but Jin doesn’t register more than a few words of it because the whole situation feels too surreal for his mind to catch up with it.
Jin ends up falling asleep on the couch, and the next morning he wakes up late and has to run to be on time to school even though he doesn’t have class until second period. He pays attention to the alien chat going around this time, which is easy enough because it is all the kids want to talk about. He is more curious than anything by now, and he goes to the nearly convenience store to buy a newspaper during lunch break. It doesn’t say anything new, but Jin enjoys looking at the pictures more closely.
A few days later the government issues a petition for people to take in the visitors - Jin figures that sounds more politically correct than aliens, even though he has no idea how the aliens’ politics or politeness work - in an attempt to help them adapt better to life on Earth. It is just a temporary solution, they assure, and they promise to take responsibility for any misunderstandings and to offer a monthly economical bonus to help cover any costs to the hosts. Applications can be requested at the local government centre. Jin fills one in, partly because he is still curious and partly because a little extra money never goes astray.
The government calls Jin two weeks later to inform him that his application has been accepted, and that he must be at the local City Hall next Saturday to meet the visitor that has been assigned to him. He is a bit surprised that his application even got accepted, so it takes a few days for the news to hit him, and Jin doesn’t actually realize how nervous he is until he is standing in front of the City Hall in his best clothes.
It helps that the other man - or alien, or visitor, Jin is not even sure what to call him - is just as nervous as Jin himself. He bows down from his waist at the same time Jin extends his hand forward for a shake.
“My name is Yamashita Tomohisa. Thank you for your kindness in taking me in, sir.”
He has that little quirky accent Jin noticed on TV and he speaks such polite Japanese that Jin is not even sure he knows how to use properly himself. Jin smiles and bows too.
“My name is Akanishi Jin. Nice to meet you, Yamashita-san.”
“The pleasure is mine, Akanishi-san, sir.”
The rest of the day goes on in a similar manner. Yamashita is polite even though Jin tries to get him to relax and be less formal with him. He shows the visitor his flat and is glad Yamashita doesn’t mind sleeping on a futon in the living room; they talk over ramen and Asahi beer and even though Yamashita repeats the name of his planet at least five times, Jin gets tired of not getting even the first syllable right and ends up calling it Alderaan anyway.
“Was the journey long?”
“A year and a half in the ship.”
Jin whistles, impressed. He slurps his noodles loudly and doesn’t bother to swallow the mouthful before speaking again. “Must have been a pain to spend all that time there.”
Yamashita shrugs nonchalantly. “We had a lot to do. We were busy learning about your culture and your language.”
“Nothing has changed much here in the last year and a half, I guess you’re lucky on that part, not much to catch up on.”
There are a few moments of silence until Jin finally notices he must have said something wrong and raises his sight from the steaming bowl in front of him. Yamashita is giving him a weird look, though honestly, with those eyes most of the looks he gives make Jin feel a little bit uncomfortable and awkward.
“What?”
“Akanishi-san, it was a year and a half for us. Here it must have been around a century. We travelled over light speed most of the time.”
Jin feels his lips forming a surprised O before the syllable actually spills through them a few seconds later. “Oh,” he says intelligently, and Yamashita stares at him with those ridiculously deep eyes of his until Jin feels stupid enough and goes back to his noodles.
After a couple of months the government has found jobs for the visitors and low rent apartments for them to live independently. Yamashita works in an electronics store, because apparently having an alien as your clerk sells, but Jin asks him to stay, because they have been getting friendly and he likes the guy after all. Yamashita is happy to accept.
They click well together, Yamashita and Jin, they like the same things. The visitor says they don’t have guitars on his planet, but they have a similar instrument and when Jin teaches him how to play it, Yamashita learns fast. He picks up smoking too, says Earth’s tobacco tastes better than his planet’s, and when the nights are warm they share cigarettes and beers on Jin’s balcony, and usually Jin ends up drunk while Yamashita is barely affected, because apparently their planet’s liquors are much stronger than Earth’s. Something to do with fermentation and oxygen and the atmosphere; Jin doesn’t quite understand the long, scientific reason.
“I want to try Alderaan’s alcohol,” he slurs, and Yamashita laughs.
“Well, you can’t. There’s none left. We finished all we were carrying within the first six months on the ship.”
“Selfish bunch, you are.” Jin’s voice is full of pouting.
Yamashita simply shrugs. “We knew what we were getting into. Nostalgia hits you hard.”
Jin can’t read the visitor’s deep, seemingly lifeless eyes, but even drunk he knows enough to drop the topic and pass his friend another drink.
Sometimes, when he is drunk, Jin can’t help himself and asks stupid questions.
“So, does everyone from your planet look Japanese?”
Yamashita looks at him with an amused grin. “Does everyone on Earth look Japanese?” he retorts, and Jin doesn’t quite know what to answer. “We’re a planet. We have countries, and different climates, quite similar to Earth. We have different appearances; we just decided where each ship should go based on our looks, to fit better.”
“Oh,” Jin says while the reasonable answer sinks into his alcohol-slowed brain, and Yamashita laughs at him.
Sometimes, when Jin feels like it, he asks Yamashita to teach him words in his language, even though he can never understand more than a couple of syllables.
“What’s your real name? You know, in your language.” Yamashita says something, but all Jin can catch is the last syllable. “… Pi?” Yamashita tries again, and a third time when all Jin’s face shows is confusion, but at the end the human shakes his head and laughs. “You know what, I’m going to call you Pi anyway. Who gave you the Japanese one?”
“Our ship landed right at the foot of a mountain, so everyone in my group got Yamashita as their family name, we were about twenty. They let us choose our given name.”
“Why Tomohisa?”
Yamashita looks at him with those eyes that make Jin squirm. “Our planet was just like Earth. We behave just like humans. We thought we could do whatever we wanted with it, that using biological weapons in war had no repercussions for the winners, that climates were unalterable, that water and petroleum couldn’t be finished. People died, people suffered from new illness we didn’t know how to heal, people fought in wars for the little resources that were left. We were able to realize our mistakes at the end. Not in time to stop the consequences of our actions anymore, but we managed to find a way to escape and find a new hope, a new chance to live. My books said Tomohisa means perseverance, to never give up, and that’s what I want for my people, now that we have a second chance.”
Sometimes Jin forgets all Yamashita has been through, the real reason why the visitors are on Earth, but when he remembers he has no idea how to comfort his friend, so he just shifts a little closer to where Yamashita is sitting and plays something sweet with the guitar.
Yamapi doesn’t talk much about himself and Jin feels like he has to slowly pry him open. He discovers that the visitor’s favorite color is pink, that he used to have two dogs and that, unlike Jin, he’s quite clumsy with kids. Jin laughs at him as he plops down on the couch with a can of cold beer.
“But kids are so easy! You just have to be a clown for them.”
Yamapi is playing with Jin’s guitar and he strokes the strings carefully to draw out long, soft notes at random; he laughs too. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“It’s kind of like being a kid yourself. You only have to remember how you used to be when you were one.”
Yamapi bites his lip and tries to relocate his fingers like Jin has taught him to play a song. “I don’t think I ever was a kid. My mother used to say I went from being a quiet toddler to behaving like I was sixteen.”
Jin laughs again. “You went from a toddler to a perverted, wanking teenager? I’m never letting you anywhere near my students.”
Yamapi blushes to the tips of his ears, but he’s quick to retaliate; it took him a while to get used to Jin, but now the atmosphere between them is relaxed, and Jin learnt quickly that the visitor has quite an humor sense - and much to Jin’s dismay a mind much quicker and wittier than his own, so he puts Jin to shame more often than not. He has learnt not to banter with Yamashita much - there’s only so much his ego can take.
“I don’t like them that young, thank you very much.”
Jin takes a sip of his beer. “Good to know.”
“I can’t guarantee your safety, though.”
Jin chokes on his beer and sputters, suddenly red to the tips of his ears - and only half of it is because of the lack of breath. He throws the beer’s tab at Yamapi, who dodges it easily and laughs at him. He starts playing a melody on the guitar as Jin tries to regain his breath and think of something else to say to wipe the smug smile from the visitor’s face.
“What did you work as back in Alderaan, then?”
“I was an architect.”
Jin whistles, impressed. “Can you draw, then?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“You have to draw me a portrait someday, then!”
Yamapi smiles embarrassedly and refrains from pointing out that buildings and plans are different than people, and he’s not really good at faces. “Okay,” he says instead, “I promise.”
His fingers skid over the strings clumsily; he mistakes the position and misses the note, cringing as the melody suddenly comes to a screeching halt. Instead of laughing at him Jin gets up and stands behind the visitor. He places his hands over Yamapi’s warm ones to relocate his fingers properly. He moves them expertly with his own, like he does at school when he’s teaching the children how to play the recorder. The notes flow again, harmonious and beautiful, but Jin lets his fingers linger on Yamapi’s.
When the visitor looks up at him with a bright smile Jin’s face goes red again, and this time it has nothing to do with the lack of breath, and quite a lot to do with the weird twist in his stomach.
Japan seems to adapt fast to the visitors. There is still some fear and distrust about them, some groups opposing the way the Government tries to make them integrate with the rest of the Japanese people, but it is a minority. Jin introduces Pi to his friends and they all welcome him as part of their group immediately, even though Pi is shy and overly polite. Most of the visitors are - polite, friendly, pacific, hardworking, ready to please - and it is easy to get used to them.
Visitors are just like humans, though, and not all of them follow the rules. It starts with a few small thefts and drunken fights easily dispersed at first, which slowly escalate in number over time. The anti-visitors organizations complain, but no one pays them much attention; the offenders get arrested, pay fines and spend a couple of nights in a cell and everything is good again. Jin is used to Yamapi’s soft and comforting presence by his side, and he finds it impossible to see the visitors as a threat to humans just because of some fights that no one pays attention to when they are between humans anyway.
Things take a radical change six months after the visitors arrive. One of the brawls gets worse and somehow a human ends up dying after a visitor stabs him. The murderer is arrested, charged with his crime and held in prison until his trial is scheduled, but somehow things get blown out of proportion and before anyone can realize how the anti-visitor groups are involved in every form of mass media, and almost overnight fear of the invaders spreads like flames.
All of sudden the number of people who hate the visitors grow. Many of the ones still living with Japanese families are kicked out, a lot are fired from their jobs. Yamashita keeps his, but he is sent to work in the storage area rather than with the customers. Even though the government suspends the economic aid it was offering to the visitors’ hosts, Jin refuses to take the small rent his friend offers, because he knows Yamapi spends half of what he earns on food for the ones of his kind that have been fired.
Suddenly every robbery, every fight is not a common occurrence as it would be with humans, but the first step of a mass attack. The visitors’ story about natural disasters and wars and having to leave their country and people behind is no longer an inspiring story for humans to learn from, but an attempt to scare them. The long and infuriating speeches of the anti-visitors groups’ leaders are retransmitted by every TV station, the demonstrations that fill the streets gather more and more people with every passing day. At the school the teachers look at Jin like he is crazy for being friends with Yamapi and the kids talk in hushed scared voices about what their parents say about visitors and draw pictures of them in which they are green and bald and have long claws and pointy fangs, but Jin grits his teeth, pretends he doesn’t notice and fights back the urge to punch whoever badmouths his friend without even questioning the sudden protective feelings that overtake him when he thinks about Yamapi.
The government announces the new measure out of the blue, barely a month after the murder. The spokesman on TV looks grim and like he would rather be anywhere else as he reads what’s printed in the bunch of perfectly neat papers he is holding, images flashing on a small screen by his head. Jin is gripping his bottle of beer tightly and even with the gap between them he can feel the tension in Yamashita’s shoulders. The lump in the man’s throat starts to close as the spokesman reads out the temporary measure.
The speech is long and complicated; plagued with complex words that Jin doesn’t really understand. He gets the essential message though. Spurred by the “recent incidents” and considering the physical similarities between humans and the visitors and the practical impossibility of telling them apart during a situation such as the ones that inspired the new measure, the government orders the visitors to wear an ID armband while they are on the streets or in any public building, or they will be severely punished with up to a month of prison or a high fine. Jin feels himself growing paler as the spokesman pauses and a picture of the new mandatory armband fills the screen.
Jin stares in disbelief at the black cloth with a red star printed on it. The voice of the spokesman explains how it is supposed to be a reference to the origin of the visitors, but all Jin can think about when he sees the star is World War II, and the Star of David on Jews’ clothes, and he can feel anger bubbling in his stomach and rising up to his throat, tasting bitter and strong and unstoppable until his whole body trembles with it. He starts when Tomohisa touches his arm, lightly, almost fearfully.
“Jin?”
It sets something off inside him. Jin violently throws his beer bottle to the floor and doesn’t even notice how his friend shivers when it shatters loudly or how one of the fragments of glass cuts into his ankle. Jin jumps off the couch and throws his arms in the air, pacing the room as if taken by a sudden rage that doesn’t let him be still. He yells and curses and swears because anger is still boiling in his stomach and he needs to get it out.
Jin only stops when a hand wraps around his arm, gentle but firm, and pushes him to sit down again. He looks at Yamapi and the visitor gives him a smile way too calm for the circumstances and squeezes his arm comfortingly, like the new government measure affected Jin and not him.
“It’s okay, Jin. It’s okay.”
Yamashita’s dark eyes are as bottomless and vaguely empty as they always seem to Jin, and he hates than he can’t read them because it is definitely not okay.
When Yamashita shows up a few days later with the black armband over his long sleeved t-shirt, Jin sees red again. He jerks on it madly, repeatedly, not caring if he hurts his friend, until it slides off Yamapi’s arm. Jin throws it away like it burns his fingers and it lands under the couch, hidden from view as Jin thinks it should be. When he looks at Yamashita his eyes are fierce and his voice is hard.
“Don’t ever wear that at home.”
Jin still can’t read his friend’s eyes, but the smile Yamapi gives him is thankful and warm and makes Jin feel fuzzy and protective inside.
It’s well past midnight when Jin wakes up, suddenly thirsty. It takes him a moment to realize why he has woken up and he groans sleepily, kicking back the covers and clumsily stumbling out of bed; his brain always needs a couple of minutes to get his motor skills back in check. He yawns, stretches, messes with his hair and finally remembers he was thirsty in the first place. He slides his feet into his slippers and heads for the kitchen.
It had started getting chilly at nights and Jin shivers in the cold air of his living room, vaguely wondering if he has forgotten to close any window and if Yamapi isn’t freezing in his sleep. He tiptoes softly to the couch, intent on checking on his friend, but in the dim light he doesn’t realize the bundles of blankets are not the visitor until he is practically stepping on the futon. Jin pokes the blankets and frowns in confusion at the inexplicable lack of his friend, until his sleep-clouded brain finally notices the light breeze coming for the open balcony - that he most definitely doesn’t remember having left open.
Jin can’t make out Yamapi’s outline on the balcony until he is by the open door, and even then the visitor is but a dark shadow. He is standing with his back to Jin and the human can’t see what he is doing, but it only takes a moment for Jin to notice the light shaking of broad shoulders and the soft sound of sobs. Jin has never heard Yamapi crying before, but now he wonders if he has been doing it before and the guilt forms a heavy lump in his stomach and closes his throat with a bitter taste.
With his slippered feet Jin is silent, and Yamapi doesn’t notice him walking closer until the man wraps his arms around him. The visitor starts, but Jin holds him tightly against his chest and doesn’t let go. Jin hands tangle with Yamapi’s to tug away the black armband that the visitor is holding and throws it away. His friend’s hands are cold between them, so he rubs them to warm them up.
“Talk to me, Pi.”
Jin feels the sobs that shakes the visitor’s frame against his own body and shivers too. The night is chilly, but he doesn’t want to move from the balcony because the stars are visible from there, bright over the velvet black of the night sky. Jin thinks this proximity with his friend should feel awkward, uncomfortable, but it doesn’t; Yamapi’s body fits between his arms like it is meant to be there, and Jin feels that there is nowhere else in the world where he would prefer to be than holding his friend.
“I… I was thinking about my sister. About those who had to stay behind.”
Yamapi shivers and Jin holds him tighter, trying to encourage him to continue. The visitor’s voice breaks at some point while he talks about selection processes, sacrifices, people left behind to die, remorse and guilt and pain, about family and friends condemned because there was no place for them in the ships, about dreams and new hopes broken for the actions of so few and the intolerance of so many. Jin just holds him, because he can’t even begin to imagine the pain his friend had felt, to wrap his mind around the sheer immensity of what he had to go through, and he doesn’t know what to say.
It feels like an eternity has passed when Yamapi finally turns around in his arms. His eyes are as deep and unreadable as ever, only a little puffy and red-rimmed. Jin brushes his friend’s tears away with his thumbs, carefully, and lets his fingers slide down to the faint sad smile slowly forming on Yamapi’s lips. He doesn’t even think about what he is doing, about consequences or about what he’s going to say, because suddenly there’s nothing clearer in the world to him than the fact that he loves Yamashita, that he would do anything to protect him, and that right now there is only one thing he can do.
Yamapi’s lips are cold when Jin kisses him, but he couldn’t care less when the visitor starts kissing him back. He tastes like the rice they had for dinner and cigarettes and something Jin is unable to describe, something unique and addictive like nothing Jin had tasted before, but he can’t let go. His hands move to tangle in the visitor’s hair and tug a little, urgently, pressing to deepen the kiss until they both need air. When they pull apart Jin thinks he can see something in Yamapi’s eyes, only he doesn’t understand what and he doesn’t have time to think before his friend leans in to kiss him again.
Jin takes Yamapi’s hand to lead him in, and doesn’t let go even when they lie in bed together, doesn’t care the balcony’s door was left open again. Jin doesn’t even care when the next morning he wakes up sore all over and with a dull ache on the lower part of his back, because when he turns around Yamapi is peacefully asleep next to him, and Jin doesn’t think he has ever felt this happy before.
It becomes a habit to share good morning kisses, good night kisses and kisses just because. They don’t talk about that night, but Jin feels that somehow they don’t need it; Yamapi understands naturally, doesn’t think it is weird and doesn’t question the offering of Jin’s hand when Jin leads him to bed every night.
It doesn’t last long. As winter creeps closer Jin starts feeling sick. He wakes up in cold sweats and spends his days queasy and on the verge of illness. He feels tired all the time, exhausted even if he doesn’t do anything out of the usual, and he has trouble keeping food down. Yamashita is there to hold his hair away and rub his back when he throws up and Jin knows the visitor is worried. He insists that Jin should go to the doctor to get himself checked out, but Jin insists it is fine. It’s probably just a cold, because it’s been getting cold lately and Jin is prone to catching colds anyway. This is only a bit longer and… lacking the fever, Jin reasons against logic.
Jin wakes up early in the morning, hours before the alarm is set, and kicks the covers back with a distressed noise. Pi stirs by his side, but Jin is already rushing out of the bed and towards the toilet. He grips the seat tightly as he feels the nausea rising in his throat, even though he didn’t eat much for dinner. He misses the visitor walking into the bathroom with him, but soon enough Pi’s kneeling beside him and there are gentle hands on his hair and his back, soothing and warm. Jin rests his head on his friend’s shoulder when he finally calms down, and sighs.
“Jin… It’s been two weeks now. This is obviously not a cold. Please, get it checked out. I’ll go with you if you want, but please go to get it checked out. Please?”
Jin closes his eyes and nods softly against Pi’s shoulder. “I’ll call the school.”
The hospital makes Jin sicker, and it had nothing to do with the uneasiness in his stomach. The black armband is wrapped tightly over Yamashita’s coat and the stares from patients and staff alike are obvious as they move through the corridors to the waiting area. It makes Jin want to yell at them all when he notices the way the visitor looks down, ashamed. Jin grits his teeth, grips his friend’s hand tightly and glares at them.
The doctor does not bother to hide his disdain. He barely spares Yamashita a glance before turning to Jin to ask for his symptoms in a cold, emotionless voice. He asks to listen to Jin’s chest, looks down his throat and presses his fingers around Jin’s neck. He doesn’t find anything wrong, so he takes a blood sample and suggests he - and Jin notices he won’t mention or directly look at the visitor at all - goes to the cafeteria to have breakfast and wait, because the results will take a couple of hours at least.
When they go back the doctor is sitting behind his desk, face serious and grave as he looks at some papers. He places his glasses down as they sit down, and when he looks at them it is with such a clear disgust in his eyes that Jin feels insulted.
“Akanishi-san, have you been engaged in a sexual relationship with another man recently?”
Jin’s jaw drops open and he sputters, incredulous. The doctor doesn’t budge and repeats the question in the same strict voice, adding “I need to know, Akanishi-san.”
“Why? Is it something in the blood test? I… We… Only once, without protection… Am I… sick?” Jin feels his stomach twisting in a nervous knot and suddenly his heart is beating in his throat. He searches blindly for Pi’s hand, feeling immediately more relieved when his friend squeezes it back. The doctor doesn’t miss the action.
“Is… he your… companion?”
“Yes.” Jin’s voice is hard, defiant, and he brings their joined hands to rest on his thigh for the doctor to see, daring him to say anything. The doctor doesn’t; he merely sighs and folds his hands over his table.
“Akanishi-san, this may be difficult to believe but… We have run several analyses on your blood sample and the conclusion has been the same each time: you’re pregnant.”
There’s a moment worth of silence in which Jin feels Pi’s hand tightening around his, but he’s too dumbstruck to react at all. The doctor is looking at him like he had said the most normal thing ever, and Jin notices his friend fidgeting nervously by his side, but his mind feels like someone pressed the off button and he can’t quite process what’s happening. It takes him almost three minutes to get out a single syllable.
“What?!” The doctor sighs again and tries to explain, but Jin interrupts him before he can. “But I’m a man! Men do not get pregnant, that makes no sense!”
“Sir, your partner is a visitor and…”
Jin snaps, anger and shock mixing together. “And what?! If you have anything to say about my lover then…!”
“Sir,” the doctor’s voice is firm and cuts him off in mid-sentence. “Visitors have a different biology than ours. In their race it’s men who get pregnant. We still don’t fully understand how it works, but basically the sperm is able to develop a baby without contact with the ovum. The sperm develops the necessary placenta, but as the organs in the… mother’s body need to adapt to leave room, it’s a dangerous process. We would like you to take a couple of tests more to determine for how long you have been pregnant… Another blood sample, a urine test and an ultrasound scan. Given the difficulties and our limited knowledge about this process, your case is now of top priority. If you agree, we can run the tests today and you will be able to go back home. We will give you a flyer with information and give you some time to think, and you can come back next week… If that’s alright with you, Akanishi-san?”
Jin gapes a couple of times, mouth opening and closing like a fish without getting out a single sound before he can finally bring himself to nod, still too dumbstruck to comprehend what’s happening around him. He lets himself be manhandled, tests run, he follows orders and stares confusedly at the blurry, sepia colored images on the screen of the ultrasound scan as the doctor spreads the cold gel over his tummy. He is vaguely aware of Yamapi’s presence close by him, hovering worriedly around but kept back by a wall of busy nurses that barely hide their disgust for the visitor.
Somehow after a few hours Jin finds himself sitting on his couch at home, with a warm tea cup between his hands. He says he wants a beer, because he kind of feels like he needs one or two or two dozen, but Yamashita reminds him it’s not the best option at the moment. When Jin looks at him his eyes are still as unreadable as always, but he can see the guilt clearly on the visitor’s face.
“You know how this happened.” It’s not a question but a statement, and Yamapi doesn’t try to deny it.
“It’s complicated and…”
“Explain.”
The visitor sighed loudly and brushed a hand through his hair, trying to put his thoughts in order and choose his words. “There’s some kind of poisonous illness in our planet… It attacks women in their preteen years and makes organs like the uterus and the ovaries rot, leaving them unable to have children. We still haven’t discovered how to stop it or reverse its effects, so men of our race have evolved to be able to develop and carry children on their own. The sperm takes the necessary info from cells in the other organs, leaving a space where the uterus develops as needed. Didn’t you notice when the ships arrived how there were more men than women in them?”
Jin tries to think back of it, tries to recall the images and the faces and maybe what Yamapi is saying makes sense, because he can’t recall any woman older than ten. He wonders how old Yamapi’s sister was. “It’s because most of them gave their places up voluntarily to men. Our purpose was to find a place to perpetuate our race, and they knew they would never be able to do that, so they gave their places to those young enough to still be safe from the virus and to men who would be able to carry children. They made a great sacrifice.”
Jin doesn’t doubt it, but right now all he can think about is the… thing inside him, and he can’t even call it a baby because the idea still seems ridiculous to him. He can feel anger slowly edging into shock’s place. “You knew this could happen and you said nothing? We could have used protection or something but you kept silent and now I’m pregnant and…”
Yamapi looks like he’s feeling sick, eyes wide and unreadable but face contorted with guilt. He searches for Jin’s hand to hold it but Jin pulls it away, even if it makes him feel like a monster when he sees the hurt and desperate look on his friend. “I didn’t! I would have never imagined it’s possible with humans too, how could I know?! If I had known I’d have never... I’d have… Told you or…”
Jin gets up from the couch suddenly and cuts Yamapi off. He decides that he has already had enough of this nonsense for the day; maybe if he sleeps it’ll be gone when he wakes up. At least he will have time to think. He feels his stomach churn, but he doesn’t even look back at Yamapi as he walks to his bedroom.
“It’s better if you sleep in the living room tonight.”
Yamapi doesn’t even bother to answer.
To part II
Disclaimer: Not mine, sad but true.
Word Count: 12.469
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: m-preg, and I should probably put a trigger warning for some controversial topics (i.e. racism, abortion...)
Summary: Jin thought that aliens were creatures out of sci-fi stories until the visitors came from another planet. When it seemed humans had learnt to accept the unveliebable things turn wrong, but Jin is already too deep into it to let go of the future that he now carries with him.
Author’s Notes: Well, this was quite a struggle to write. Out of my comfort zone, what with mpreg and all, but I can say I enjoyed it a lot, despite all the angsting its writing involved! Fic vaguely based on Genesis 30:3, by The Mountain Goats. Also, special thanks to my betas bellemainec and maayacola and probably pinkeuphoria1 too. ryogrande might have had something to do in me writing mpreg, too.
Jin is in class when it happens. It is third period and he has music lessons with a rambunctious class of first graders for whom music class mostly consists of singing children's songs loudly and out of-tune while he plays the guitar and tries to correct them. Sometimes Jin even manages to get them focused enough to play a few melodies with their recorders, but today is not one of those mornings and the class is so loud that later Jin thinks they would have missed it even if it had happened right outside the school.
One of the boys by the window points at something in the sky with a surprised shout and for a moment there is chaos while all the kids run to see, until Jin manages to make his way through the classroom and the barrier of overexcited first graders and sure, there’s something a little oddly shaped there but it is too far away and the sky too cloudy, so Jin doesn’t think anything of it because it could be a plane or a promotional zeppelin, one never knows these days. He commands the class back to their seats and by the end of the day he has forgotten about it.
Jin doesn’t watch TV very often, but he finds out the next day when he catches his co-workers ranting about aliens and invasions of Earth and honestly, he would have expected it from the kids but you would think the teachers are a little too old for that. He listens for a while without joining the conversation or paying much attention at all, but at night he sits down to watch the news after dinner for once.
It is a wonder he didn’t notice earlier, he thinks, because it is all over the place. The news show newspapers that scream the headlines with huge, bolded fonts: ALIENS IN JAPAN. The news hosts talk loudly with shocked voices and exaggerated gestures about the “newcomers from space”, as they call them, while Jin sits on his couch with a beer forgotten halfway to his mouth and his eyes about to pop out from their sockets. The hosts discuss the government’s approach towards the unbelievable situation, but Jin isn’t really listening and focuses on the lines on the lower part of the screen, describing the situation for those who like him were late to catch up with the news:
Yesterday afternoon several alien ships arrived at Earth, landing in various locations throughout Japan and other places of the world such as the United States and some European countries. The space visitors, of human appearance and pacific intentions, as stated by their leaders, speak fluent Japanese and have been promptly moved under strict security measures to a secluded area the location of which has not been revealed in order to protect them and the Japanese citizens while the Government decides the action plan to follow in an urgent meeting that started barely an hour after the incident, and has not yet finished.
Jin watches everything with a sense of unreality, of not really being there. He watches the space ship and it looks mostly like a slightly oddly shaped huge plane, but a plane after all. He shifts to the edge of the couch unconsciously as the image zooms in on the people slowly coming out of the ship. They look human, Japanese even, with dark hair and almond shaped eyes, and only the look in their eyes gives away they are not really human, too dark and deep and a bit lifeless or so Jin thinks; they remind him a bit of a fish’s eyes.
The news retransmits the alien - and it feels a bit wrong to think of them as such when they look just like him - leaders’ words, but Jin doesn’t really listen. He notices they speak fluent Japanese indeed, with a little funny quirky accent that doesn’t feel familiar but not entirely foreign either. They talk about wars, natural disasters and fleeing their planet, they talk about those left behind, about peaceful intentions, about a new life and new hope, but Jin doesn’t register more than a few words of it because the whole situation feels too surreal for his mind to catch up with it.
Jin ends up falling asleep on the couch, and the next morning he wakes up late and has to run to be on time to school even though he doesn’t have class until second period. He pays attention to the alien chat going around this time, which is easy enough because it is all the kids want to talk about. He is more curious than anything by now, and he goes to the nearly convenience store to buy a newspaper during lunch break. It doesn’t say anything new, but Jin enjoys looking at the pictures more closely.
A few days later the government issues a petition for people to take in the visitors - Jin figures that sounds more politically correct than aliens, even though he has no idea how the aliens’ politics or politeness work - in an attempt to help them adapt better to life on Earth. It is just a temporary solution, they assure, and they promise to take responsibility for any misunderstandings and to offer a monthly economical bonus to help cover any costs to the hosts. Applications can be requested at the local government centre. Jin fills one in, partly because he is still curious and partly because a little extra money never goes astray.
The government calls Jin two weeks later to inform him that his application has been accepted, and that he must be at the local City Hall next Saturday to meet the visitor that has been assigned to him. He is a bit surprised that his application even got accepted, so it takes a few days for the news to hit him, and Jin doesn’t actually realize how nervous he is until he is standing in front of the City Hall in his best clothes.
It helps that the other man - or alien, or visitor, Jin is not even sure what to call him - is just as nervous as Jin himself. He bows down from his waist at the same time Jin extends his hand forward for a shake.
“My name is Yamashita Tomohisa. Thank you for your kindness in taking me in, sir.”
He has that little quirky accent Jin noticed on TV and he speaks such polite Japanese that Jin is not even sure he knows how to use properly himself. Jin smiles and bows too.
“My name is Akanishi Jin. Nice to meet you, Yamashita-san.”
“The pleasure is mine, Akanishi-san, sir.”
The rest of the day goes on in a similar manner. Yamashita is polite even though Jin tries to get him to relax and be less formal with him. He shows the visitor his flat and is glad Yamashita doesn’t mind sleeping on a futon in the living room; they talk over ramen and Asahi beer and even though Yamashita repeats the name of his planet at least five times, Jin gets tired of not getting even the first syllable right and ends up calling it Alderaan anyway.
“Was the journey long?”
“A year and a half in the ship.”
Jin whistles, impressed. He slurps his noodles loudly and doesn’t bother to swallow the mouthful before speaking again. “Must have been a pain to spend all that time there.”
Yamashita shrugs nonchalantly. “We had a lot to do. We were busy learning about your culture and your language.”
“Nothing has changed much here in the last year and a half, I guess you’re lucky on that part, not much to catch up on.”
There are a few moments of silence until Jin finally notices he must have said something wrong and raises his sight from the steaming bowl in front of him. Yamashita is giving him a weird look, though honestly, with those eyes most of the looks he gives make Jin feel a little bit uncomfortable and awkward.
“What?”
“Akanishi-san, it was a year and a half for us. Here it must have been around a century. We travelled over light speed most of the time.”
Jin feels his lips forming a surprised O before the syllable actually spills through them a few seconds later. “Oh,” he says intelligently, and Yamashita stares at him with those ridiculously deep eyes of his until Jin feels stupid enough and goes back to his noodles.
After a couple of months the government has found jobs for the visitors and low rent apartments for them to live independently. Yamashita works in an electronics store, because apparently having an alien as your clerk sells, but Jin asks him to stay, because they have been getting friendly and he likes the guy after all. Yamashita is happy to accept.
They click well together, Yamashita and Jin, they like the same things. The visitor says they don’t have guitars on his planet, but they have a similar instrument and when Jin teaches him how to play it, Yamashita learns fast. He picks up smoking too, says Earth’s tobacco tastes better than his planet’s, and when the nights are warm they share cigarettes and beers on Jin’s balcony, and usually Jin ends up drunk while Yamashita is barely affected, because apparently their planet’s liquors are much stronger than Earth’s. Something to do with fermentation and oxygen and the atmosphere; Jin doesn’t quite understand the long, scientific reason.
“I want to try Alderaan’s alcohol,” he slurs, and Yamashita laughs.
“Well, you can’t. There’s none left. We finished all we were carrying within the first six months on the ship.”
“Selfish bunch, you are.” Jin’s voice is full of pouting.
Yamashita simply shrugs. “We knew what we were getting into. Nostalgia hits you hard.”
Jin can’t read the visitor’s deep, seemingly lifeless eyes, but even drunk he knows enough to drop the topic and pass his friend another drink.
Sometimes, when he is drunk, Jin can’t help himself and asks stupid questions.
“So, does everyone from your planet look Japanese?”
Yamashita looks at him with an amused grin. “Does everyone on Earth look Japanese?” he retorts, and Jin doesn’t quite know what to answer. “We’re a planet. We have countries, and different climates, quite similar to Earth. We have different appearances; we just decided where each ship should go based on our looks, to fit better.”
“Oh,” Jin says while the reasonable answer sinks into his alcohol-slowed brain, and Yamashita laughs at him.
Sometimes, when Jin feels like it, he asks Yamashita to teach him words in his language, even though he can never understand more than a couple of syllables.
“What’s your real name? You know, in your language.” Yamashita says something, but all Jin can catch is the last syllable. “… Pi?” Yamashita tries again, and a third time when all Jin’s face shows is confusion, but at the end the human shakes his head and laughs. “You know what, I’m going to call you Pi anyway. Who gave you the Japanese one?”
“Our ship landed right at the foot of a mountain, so everyone in my group got Yamashita as their family name, we were about twenty. They let us choose our given name.”
“Why Tomohisa?”
Yamashita looks at him with those eyes that make Jin squirm. “Our planet was just like Earth. We behave just like humans. We thought we could do whatever we wanted with it, that using biological weapons in war had no repercussions for the winners, that climates were unalterable, that water and petroleum couldn’t be finished. People died, people suffered from new illness we didn’t know how to heal, people fought in wars for the little resources that were left. We were able to realize our mistakes at the end. Not in time to stop the consequences of our actions anymore, but we managed to find a way to escape and find a new hope, a new chance to live. My books said Tomohisa means perseverance, to never give up, and that’s what I want for my people, now that we have a second chance.”
Sometimes Jin forgets all Yamashita has been through, the real reason why the visitors are on Earth, but when he remembers he has no idea how to comfort his friend, so he just shifts a little closer to where Yamashita is sitting and plays something sweet with the guitar.
Yamapi doesn’t talk much about himself and Jin feels like he has to slowly pry him open. He discovers that the visitor’s favorite color is pink, that he used to have two dogs and that, unlike Jin, he’s quite clumsy with kids. Jin laughs at him as he plops down on the couch with a can of cold beer.
“But kids are so easy! You just have to be a clown for them.”
Yamapi is playing with Jin’s guitar and he strokes the strings carefully to draw out long, soft notes at random; he laughs too. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“It’s kind of like being a kid yourself. You only have to remember how you used to be when you were one.”
Yamapi bites his lip and tries to relocate his fingers like Jin has taught him to play a song. “I don’t think I ever was a kid. My mother used to say I went from being a quiet toddler to behaving like I was sixteen.”
Jin laughs again. “You went from a toddler to a perverted, wanking teenager? I’m never letting you anywhere near my students.”
Yamapi blushes to the tips of his ears, but he’s quick to retaliate; it took him a while to get used to Jin, but now the atmosphere between them is relaxed, and Jin learnt quickly that the visitor has quite an humor sense - and much to Jin’s dismay a mind much quicker and wittier than his own, so he puts Jin to shame more often than not. He has learnt not to banter with Yamashita much - there’s only so much his ego can take.
“I don’t like them that young, thank you very much.”
Jin takes a sip of his beer. “Good to know.”
“I can’t guarantee your safety, though.”
Jin chokes on his beer and sputters, suddenly red to the tips of his ears - and only half of it is because of the lack of breath. He throws the beer’s tab at Yamapi, who dodges it easily and laughs at him. He starts playing a melody on the guitar as Jin tries to regain his breath and think of something else to say to wipe the smug smile from the visitor’s face.
“What did you work as back in Alderaan, then?”
“I was an architect.”
Jin whistles, impressed. “Can you draw, then?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“You have to draw me a portrait someday, then!”
Yamapi smiles embarrassedly and refrains from pointing out that buildings and plans are different than people, and he’s not really good at faces. “Okay,” he says instead, “I promise.”
His fingers skid over the strings clumsily; he mistakes the position and misses the note, cringing as the melody suddenly comes to a screeching halt. Instead of laughing at him Jin gets up and stands behind the visitor. He places his hands over Yamapi’s warm ones to relocate his fingers properly. He moves them expertly with his own, like he does at school when he’s teaching the children how to play the recorder. The notes flow again, harmonious and beautiful, but Jin lets his fingers linger on Yamapi’s.
When the visitor looks up at him with a bright smile Jin’s face goes red again, and this time it has nothing to do with the lack of breath, and quite a lot to do with the weird twist in his stomach.
Japan seems to adapt fast to the visitors. There is still some fear and distrust about them, some groups opposing the way the Government tries to make them integrate with the rest of the Japanese people, but it is a minority. Jin introduces Pi to his friends and they all welcome him as part of their group immediately, even though Pi is shy and overly polite. Most of the visitors are - polite, friendly, pacific, hardworking, ready to please - and it is easy to get used to them.
Visitors are just like humans, though, and not all of them follow the rules. It starts with a few small thefts and drunken fights easily dispersed at first, which slowly escalate in number over time. The anti-visitors organizations complain, but no one pays them much attention; the offenders get arrested, pay fines and spend a couple of nights in a cell and everything is good again. Jin is used to Yamapi’s soft and comforting presence by his side, and he finds it impossible to see the visitors as a threat to humans just because of some fights that no one pays attention to when they are between humans anyway.
Things take a radical change six months after the visitors arrive. One of the brawls gets worse and somehow a human ends up dying after a visitor stabs him. The murderer is arrested, charged with his crime and held in prison until his trial is scheduled, but somehow things get blown out of proportion and before anyone can realize how the anti-visitor groups are involved in every form of mass media, and almost overnight fear of the invaders spreads like flames.
All of sudden the number of people who hate the visitors grow. Many of the ones still living with Japanese families are kicked out, a lot are fired from their jobs. Yamashita keeps his, but he is sent to work in the storage area rather than with the customers. Even though the government suspends the economic aid it was offering to the visitors’ hosts, Jin refuses to take the small rent his friend offers, because he knows Yamapi spends half of what he earns on food for the ones of his kind that have been fired.
Suddenly every robbery, every fight is not a common occurrence as it would be with humans, but the first step of a mass attack. The visitors’ story about natural disasters and wars and having to leave their country and people behind is no longer an inspiring story for humans to learn from, but an attempt to scare them. The long and infuriating speeches of the anti-visitors groups’ leaders are retransmitted by every TV station, the demonstrations that fill the streets gather more and more people with every passing day. At the school the teachers look at Jin like he is crazy for being friends with Yamapi and the kids talk in hushed scared voices about what their parents say about visitors and draw pictures of them in which they are green and bald and have long claws and pointy fangs, but Jin grits his teeth, pretends he doesn’t notice and fights back the urge to punch whoever badmouths his friend without even questioning the sudden protective feelings that overtake him when he thinks about Yamapi.
The government announces the new measure out of the blue, barely a month after the murder. The spokesman on TV looks grim and like he would rather be anywhere else as he reads what’s printed in the bunch of perfectly neat papers he is holding, images flashing on a small screen by his head. Jin is gripping his bottle of beer tightly and even with the gap between them he can feel the tension in Yamashita’s shoulders. The lump in the man’s throat starts to close as the spokesman reads out the temporary measure.
The speech is long and complicated; plagued with complex words that Jin doesn’t really understand. He gets the essential message though. Spurred by the “recent incidents” and considering the physical similarities between humans and the visitors and the practical impossibility of telling them apart during a situation such as the ones that inspired the new measure, the government orders the visitors to wear an ID armband while they are on the streets or in any public building, or they will be severely punished with up to a month of prison or a high fine. Jin feels himself growing paler as the spokesman pauses and a picture of the new mandatory armband fills the screen.
Jin stares in disbelief at the black cloth with a red star printed on it. The voice of the spokesman explains how it is supposed to be a reference to the origin of the visitors, but all Jin can think about when he sees the star is World War II, and the Star of David on Jews’ clothes, and he can feel anger bubbling in his stomach and rising up to his throat, tasting bitter and strong and unstoppable until his whole body trembles with it. He starts when Tomohisa touches his arm, lightly, almost fearfully.
“Jin?”
It sets something off inside him. Jin violently throws his beer bottle to the floor and doesn’t even notice how his friend shivers when it shatters loudly or how one of the fragments of glass cuts into his ankle. Jin jumps off the couch and throws his arms in the air, pacing the room as if taken by a sudden rage that doesn’t let him be still. He yells and curses and swears because anger is still boiling in his stomach and he needs to get it out.
Jin only stops when a hand wraps around his arm, gentle but firm, and pushes him to sit down again. He looks at Yamapi and the visitor gives him a smile way too calm for the circumstances and squeezes his arm comfortingly, like the new government measure affected Jin and not him.
“It’s okay, Jin. It’s okay.”
Yamashita’s dark eyes are as bottomless and vaguely empty as they always seem to Jin, and he hates than he can’t read them because it is definitely not okay.
When Yamashita shows up a few days later with the black armband over his long sleeved t-shirt, Jin sees red again. He jerks on it madly, repeatedly, not caring if he hurts his friend, until it slides off Yamapi’s arm. Jin throws it away like it burns his fingers and it lands under the couch, hidden from view as Jin thinks it should be. When he looks at Yamashita his eyes are fierce and his voice is hard.
“Don’t ever wear that at home.”
Jin still can’t read his friend’s eyes, but the smile Yamapi gives him is thankful and warm and makes Jin feel fuzzy and protective inside.
It’s well past midnight when Jin wakes up, suddenly thirsty. It takes him a moment to realize why he has woken up and he groans sleepily, kicking back the covers and clumsily stumbling out of bed; his brain always needs a couple of minutes to get his motor skills back in check. He yawns, stretches, messes with his hair and finally remembers he was thirsty in the first place. He slides his feet into his slippers and heads for the kitchen.
It had started getting chilly at nights and Jin shivers in the cold air of his living room, vaguely wondering if he has forgotten to close any window and if Yamapi isn’t freezing in his sleep. He tiptoes softly to the couch, intent on checking on his friend, but in the dim light he doesn’t realize the bundles of blankets are not the visitor until he is practically stepping on the futon. Jin pokes the blankets and frowns in confusion at the inexplicable lack of his friend, until his sleep-clouded brain finally notices the light breeze coming for the open balcony - that he most definitely doesn’t remember having left open.
Jin can’t make out Yamapi’s outline on the balcony until he is by the open door, and even then the visitor is but a dark shadow. He is standing with his back to Jin and the human can’t see what he is doing, but it only takes a moment for Jin to notice the light shaking of broad shoulders and the soft sound of sobs. Jin has never heard Yamapi crying before, but now he wonders if he has been doing it before and the guilt forms a heavy lump in his stomach and closes his throat with a bitter taste.
With his slippered feet Jin is silent, and Yamapi doesn’t notice him walking closer until the man wraps his arms around him. The visitor starts, but Jin holds him tightly against his chest and doesn’t let go. Jin hands tangle with Yamapi’s to tug away the black armband that the visitor is holding and throws it away. His friend’s hands are cold between them, so he rubs them to warm them up.
“Talk to me, Pi.”
Jin feels the sobs that shakes the visitor’s frame against his own body and shivers too. The night is chilly, but he doesn’t want to move from the balcony because the stars are visible from there, bright over the velvet black of the night sky. Jin thinks this proximity with his friend should feel awkward, uncomfortable, but it doesn’t; Yamapi’s body fits between his arms like it is meant to be there, and Jin feels that there is nowhere else in the world where he would prefer to be than holding his friend.
“I… I was thinking about my sister. About those who had to stay behind.”
Yamapi shivers and Jin holds him tighter, trying to encourage him to continue. The visitor’s voice breaks at some point while he talks about selection processes, sacrifices, people left behind to die, remorse and guilt and pain, about family and friends condemned because there was no place for them in the ships, about dreams and new hopes broken for the actions of so few and the intolerance of so many. Jin just holds him, because he can’t even begin to imagine the pain his friend had felt, to wrap his mind around the sheer immensity of what he had to go through, and he doesn’t know what to say.
It feels like an eternity has passed when Yamapi finally turns around in his arms. His eyes are as deep and unreadable as ever, only a little puffy and red-rimmed. Jin brushes his friend’s tears away with his thumbs, carefully, and lets his fingers slide down to the faint sad smile slowly forming on Yamapi’s lips. He doesn’t even think about what he is doing, about consequences or about what he’s going to say, because suddenly there’s nothing clearer in the world to him than the fact that he loves Yamashita, that he would do anything to protect him, and that right now there is only one thing he can do.
Yamapi’s lips are cold when Jin kisses him, but he couldn’t care less when the visitor starts kissing him back. He tastes like the rice they had for dinner and cigarettes and something Jin is unable to describe, something unique and addictive like nothing Jin had tasted before, but he can’t let go. His hands move to tangle in the visitor’s hair and tug a little, urgently, pressing to deepen the kiss until they both need air. When they pull apart Jin thinks he can see something in Yamapi’s eyes, only he doesn’t understand what and he doesn’t have time to think before his friend leans in to kiss him again.
Jin takes Yamapi’s hand to lead him in, and doesn’t let go even when they lie in bed together, doesn’t care the balcony’s door was left open again. Jin doesn’t even care when the next morning he wakes up sore all over and with a dull ache on the lower part of his back, because when he turns around Yamapi is peacefully asleep next to him, and Jin doesn’t think he has ever felt this happy before.
It becomes a habit to share good morning kisses, good night kisses and kisses just because. They don’t talk about that night, but Jin feels that somehow they don’t need it; Yamapi understands naturally, doesn’t think it is weird and doesn’t question the offering of Jin’s hand when Jin leads him to bed every night.
It doesn’t last long. As winter creeps closer Jin starts feeling sick. He wakes up in cold sweats and spends his days queasy and on the verge of illness. He feels tired all the time, exhausted even if he doesn’t do anything out of the usual, and he has trouble keeping food down. Yamashita is there to hold his hair away and rub his back when he throws up and Jin knows the visitor is worried. He insists that Jin should go to the doctor to get himself checked out, but Jin insists it is fine. It’s probably just a cold, because it’s been getting cold lately and Jin is prone to catching colds anyway. This is only a bit longer and… lacking the fever, Jin reasons against logic.
Jin wakes up early in the morning, hours before the alarm is set, and kicks the covers back with a distressed noise. Pi stirs by his side, but Jin is already rushing out of the bed and towards the toilet. He grips the seat tightly as he feels the nausea rising in his throat, even though he didn’t eat much for dinner. He misses the visitor walking into the bathroom with him, but soon enough Pi’s kneeling beside him and there are gentle hands on his hair and his back, soothing and warm. Jin rests his head on his friend’s shoulder when he finally calms down, and sighs.
“Jin… It’s been two weeks now. This is obviously not a cold. Please, get it checked out. I’ll go with you if you want, but please go to get it checked out. Please?”
Jin closes his eyes and nods softly against Pi’s shoulder. “I’ll call the school.”
The hospital makes Jin sicker, and it had nothing to do with the uneasiness in his stomach. The black armband is wrapped tightly over Yamashita’s coat and the stares from patients and staff alike are obvious as they move through the corridors to the waiting area. It makes Jin want to yell at them all when he notices the way the visitor looks down, ashamed. Jin grits his teeth, grips his friend’s hand tightly and glares at them.
The doctor does not bother to hide his disdain. He barely spares Yamashita a glance before turning to Jin to ask for his symptoms in a cold, emotionless voice. He asks to listen to Jin’s chest, looks down his throat and presses his fingers around Jin’s neck. He doesn’t find anything wrong, so he takes a blood sample and suggests he - and Jin notices he won’t mention or directly look at the visitor at all - goes to the cafeteria to have breakfast and wait, because the results will take a couple of hours at least.
When they go back the doctor is sitting behind his desk, face serious and grave as he looks at some papers. He places his glasses down as they sit down, and when he looks at them it is with such a clear disgust in his eyes that Jin feels insulted.
“Akanishi-san, have you been engaged in a sexual relationship with another man recently?”
Jin’s jaw drops open and he sputters, incredulous. The doctor doesn’t budge and repeats the question in the same strict voice, adding “I need to know, Akanishi-san.”
“Why? Is it something in the blood test? I… We… Only once, without protection… Am I… sick?” Jin feels his stomach twisting in a nervous knot and suddenly his heart is beating in his throat. He searches blindly for Pi’s hand, feeling immediately more relieved when his friend squeezes it back. The doctor doesn’t miss the action.
“Is… he your… companion?”
“Yes.” Jin’s voice is hard, defiant, and he brings their joined hands to rest on his thigh for the doctor to see, daring him to say anything. The doctor doesn’t; he merely sighs and folds his hands over his table.
“Akanishi-san, this may be difficult to believe but… We have run several analyses on your blood sample and the conclusion has been the same each time: you’re pregnant.”
There’s a moment worth of silence in which Jin feels Pi’s hand tightening around his, but he’s too dumbstruck to react at all. The doctor is looking at him like he had said the most normal thing ever, and Jin notices his friend fidgeting nervously by his side, but his mind feels like someone pressed the off button and he can’t quite process what’s happening. It takes him almost three minutes to get out a single syllable.
“What?!” The doctor sighs again and tries to explain, but Jin interrupts him before he can. “But I’m a man! Men do not get pregnant, that makes no sense!”
“Sir, your partner is a visitor and…”
Jin snaps, anger and shock mixing together. “And what?! If you have anything to say about my lover then…!”
“Sir,” the doctor’s voice is firm and cuts him off in mid-sentence. “Visitors have a different biology than ours. In their race it’s men who get pregnant. We still don’t fully understand how it works, but basically the sperm is able to develop a baby without contact with the ovum. The sperm develops the necessary placenta, but as the organs in the… mother’s body need to adapt to leave room, it’s a dangerous process. We would like you to take a couple of tests more to determine for how long you have been pregnant… Another blood sample, a urine test and an ultrasound scan. Given the difficulties and our limited knowledge about this process, your case is now of top priority. If you agree, we can run the tests today and you will be able to go back home. We will give you a flyer with information and give you some time to think, and you can come back next week… If that’s alright with you, Akanishi-san?”
Jin gapes a couple of times, mouth opening and closing like a fish without getting out a single sound before he can finally bring himself to nod, still too dumbstruck to comprehend what’s happening around him. He lets himself be manhandled, tests run, he follows orders and stares confusedly at the blurry, sepia colored images on the screen of the ultrasound scan as the doctor spreads the cold gel over his tummy. He is vaguely aware of Yamapi’s presence close by him, hovering worriedly around but kept back by a wall of busy nurses that barely hide their disgust for the visitor.
Somehow after a few hours Jin finds himself sitting on his couch at home, with a warm tea cup between his hands. He says he wants a beer, because he kind of feels like he needs one or two or two dozen, but Yamashita reminds him it’s not the best option at the moment. When Jin looks at him his eyes are still as unreadable as always, but he can see the guilt clearly on the visitor’s face.
“You know how this happened.” It’s not a question but a statement, and Yamapi doesn’t try to deny it.
“It’s complicated and…”
“Explain.”
The visitor sighed loudly and brushed a hand through his hair, trying to put his thoughts in order and choose his words. “There’s some kind of poisonous illness in our planet… It attacks women in their preteen years and makes organs like the uterus and the ovaries rot, leaving them unable to have children. We still haven’t discovered how to stop it or reverse its effects, so men of our race have evolved to be able to develop and carry children on their own. The sperm takes the necessary info from cells in the other organs, leaving a space where the uterus develops as needed. Didn’t you notice when the ships arrived how there were more men than women in them?”
Jin tries to think back of it, tries to recall the images and the faces and maybe what Yamapi is saying makes sense, because he can’t recall any woman older than ten. He wonders how old Yamapi’s sister was. “It’s because most of them gave their places up voluntarily to men. Our purpose was to find a place to perpetuate our race, and they knew they would never be able to do that, so they gave their places to those young enough to still be safe from the virus and to men who would be able to carry children. They made a great sacrifice.”
Jin doesn’t doubt it, but right now all he can think about is the… thing inside him, and he can’t even call it a baby because the idea still seems ridiculous to him. He can feel anger slowly edging into shock’s place. “You knew this could happen and you said nothing? We could have used protection or something but you kept silent and now I’m pregnant and…”
Yamapi looks like he’s feeling sick, eyes wide and unreadable but face contorted with guilt. He searches for Jin’s hand to hold it but Jin pulls it away, even if it makes him feel like a monster when he sees the hurt and desperate look on his friend. “I didn’t! I would have never imagined it’s possible with humans too, how could I know?! If I had known I’d have never... I’d have… Told you or…”
Jin gets up from the couch suddenly and cuts Yamapi off. He decides that he has already had enough of this nonsense for the day; maybe if he sleeps it’ll be gone when he wakes up. At least he will have time to think. He feels his stomach churn, but he doesn’t even look back at Yamapi as he walks to his bedroom.
“It’s better if you sleep in the living room tonight.”
Yamapi doesn’t even bother to answer.
To part II