Young Writers Society

Sara was watching Ky as well, and she caught Aashi's eye with a worried look.

Aashi looked at her helplessly, glancing back at Ky briefly. Should they… say something? Do something? She’d never watched a grown adult refuse to eat before; it seemed wildly offensive to even think about the same strategies she’d use on a reluctant child. That was sure to make things worse. Still, Aashi gave Sara a look in hopes that she has an idea of what they could do. She was willing to back her no matter what.

Ky was vaguely aware of the nonverbal judgment being passed around her, but she actively refused to look up at it, though a blush began crawling across her face.

She shook her head slightly, then glanced toward Gaius. He'd be able to chat with her about it, hopefully. He had strategies for this sort of thing, and he might be able to figure out why she wasn't eating. But now was a bad time to bring it up.

Aashi silently took a deep breath and dipped her head. She didn’t like that. Didn’t like being told not to interfere. It wasn’t anything like who she was as a human: the helper, the fixer. And yet she knew that Sara was probably right. Ky had gotten so much snappier in the past several weeks. And Aashi knew that pushing Ky would just result in her lashing out, which would then result in her feeling guilty. Which would just make her less likely to stay at this meal or attend the next. So she had to be patient.

But patience wasn’t her strength. At all.

“…so…” Aashi said when she couldn’t handle the silence anymore. It felt like an awkward redirect, and yet the best thing that could come to mind. “Any tips for reducing sibling jealousy? I’m sure that’ll be brand new.”

"Ahh, that's a good question!" Sara nodded, jumping to the offered conversation. "We haven't had too many problems with that yet, though Marcella and Mattathias argue sometimes. Just let your children know you love them equally and explain why the little one needs a bit more time--because they will."

“No doubt,” Aashi agreed with a nod. “… I think I’m a little afraid of how to help Tasia understand the birth, and why I’m not going to be able to be up and about and ready to play once it approaches.”

"The twins were still very young when I had Regulus, but I expect you can just explain in simple terms how children are born. Children understand more than most of us give them credit for."

“That’s true,” Aashi said thoughtfully. “And I suppose we’ve got a few months to establish expectations.”

She nodded. "Right. It'll be alright; and she seems delighted already. It shouldn't be too bad."

“Oh, of course,” Aashi agreed with a nod. “I just… I want to be sure that she feels like she’s gaining a sibling, not losing even a shred of her parents, you know? That we still love her every bit as much as we do now, even when we’ll have less time… it… I just don’t want to accidentally make her resent her little sibling.”

"You seem like level-headed parents. Things will go fine, you'll see!" She smiled encouragingly.

“Thank you for that.” Aashi dipped her head gratefully. She was still nervous. But. Well. Sara was an excellent mother; very thoughtful. If she thought that Aashi and Tadaaki would be able to figure things out, then that was encouraging. “I suppose we will have to see how it works out. If you’re optimistic, though, then that means a lot to us both. We really are trying our hardest to figure out this whole being good parents thing for them. We’re… getting there.”

Tadaaki was actively not looking at her, but felt himself prickling. Listening to his wife lie about his parenting skills and set up false expectations from literally everyone wasn’t near the top of dinner conversations he’d hoped for.

"All one can really do is try, right?"
Gaius glanced at her. She was right, but it was oversimplified. Trying was immensely hard; doing was even harder. He remembered all the energy he'd poured into caring for Sara and the twins, and then Regulus. It had been draining and absurdly terrifying. The fear that Michael's temper had bled into Gaius's children was nearly enough to keep him from Sara's bedside for the shame of it. She'd insisted he be there for the birth, that he would feel different once he saw them. But even now, even after he had gotten to know the little lives he and Sara had created, there was that creeping worry and the knowledge that the children carried his own worst traits to a certain extent. Trying wasn't enough to dispel that fear.

(Aashi, Sara, Anneke, collectively: *swats them all with a rolled up newspaper*)

Hmph. Tadaaki cast an irritable glance towards that end of the table, then looked back at Tasia and cut her a little piece of roast. What nonsense. Trying meant nothing. Hoping meant nothing. There was nothing at all — no amount of sheer force of will or otherwise — that would give Tasia the papa she deserved.

Well.

He supposed Aashi could have remarried. She should have, really. It became her responsibility to get a protector and provider for herself and Tasia once it became apparent that Tadaaki wasn’t man enough to accomplish the job. She ought to have divorced him and tried again.

But she hadn’t.

And they’d gotten into a massive fight when he’d told her as much a week or two after their reunion, when it became apparent to everyone that he was the shittiest father on the planet.

Which. Well… he supposed he couldn’t honestly say it wouldn’t have terribly hurt his feelings had she agreed with him. It would have. Would have absolutely crushed him.

But. Well. He was still right.

And then what had he done? Gone and been careless and selfish and stupid and burdened another child with his likeness. Maybe he’d talk to Sera to see if she could fix him; ensure he couldn’t ruin anyone else’s lives. At least not as an inadequate father at the very least.

Gaius continued eating, still watching Ky out of the corner of his eye to make sure she was eating.