Episode 39: A Future With Kids Is Just Too Convenient?
Today’s our shared birthday.
And — our third wedding anniversary.
“Really glad the anniversary landed on a day off this year.”
A big suitcase, laid open on the living room floor.
I’m wrestling to get the zipper closed, and Makina reaches over smoothly from beside me.
Her slender fingers push a neatly-rolled, elegant stole ruthlessly into a gap in the trunk.
“Wait, hold on, Makina, still packing more?! We’re going to Okinawa, remember? There’s no way you’ll use that.”
“You never know. The sea breeze at night might get cold, or the hotel air conditioning might be too strong.”
“No, I genuinely cannot picture a future where you use that. Also, if we cram anything else in there, this zipper’s gonna scream and blow apart!”
“It’ll be fine. If you just sit on top and squash it down, it’ll close. Come on, ready, go—”
“Don’t use me as a substitute for a hydraulic press!”
The two of us bounce, squeezing down hard on the suitcase together, somehow managing to force the zipper’s teeth to catch.
Wiping the sweat off my forehead on the sofa, Makina comes and settles in right beside me, snug and close.
Much more grown-up than her high school self, but the warmth in her eyes when she looks at me hasn’t changed one bit since back then — the face of the wife I love so much.
Three years married now.
Every time I see Makina laughing beside me like this, it still catches me a little off guard, even now — like I still can’t quite believe it.
Not a special day at all, really. Just an extension of an ordinary morning.
And yet — this kind of ordinary… happiness.
“…Another year’s gone by, huh?”
“That’s right. Third year married. …And it’s already been ten years since we started dating.”
“Feels like it went by in a flash, somehow.”
Before I knew it, we were married, life had settled into a rhythm, and here we are packing for an anniversary trip.
Over twenty years since we first met.
…No — actually, longer than that. Longer than either of us can even remember.
Since before either of us had real memories, Makina was always there, in the room right next door.
By the time I was even aware of it, having her right there was already just how things were.
Even now, there are still moments where it strikes me as strange, her still being right beside me like this.
While I’m thinking that over, Makina gives a small, gentle tug on my sleeve.
“Hey, Yotsuka.”
“Hm? What?”
“I think it’s about time… we wanted kids, don’t you think?”
“…Pfft, cough?! Th-that’s sudden?!”
Blindsided by that huge life-step announcement, a weird cough forces its way out of me.
“It’s not sudden. We’ve been talking about it, little by little, for a while now.”
“I mean, yeah, that’s true, but…”
It’s true — ever since we got married, the topic of future family planning had come up more than once.
Foster care systems. Adoption.
And also, options around sperm donation — we’d properly researched and talked all of it through, seriously, together.
Every one of those is a genuinely good option for us to build a family as we are.
Makina wraps both her hands over mine, still gripping the suitcase.
“…It’s just, that’s still a little different, isn’t it? …I want a child that’s mine and yours, Yotsuka.”
“No, no, no, Makina, that’s just way too much of a stretch.”
“Is it a stretch?”
“It’s a stretch. Do you know how human bodies actually work?”
“I know perfectly well, thank you — I always had better grades than you, for the record.”
“That one specific thing is not something grades can fix. No amount of effort’s gonna work a miracle there.”
I throw in the retort as hard as I can, and Makina turns her face away with a pout, sulking like a kid.
“But I still want it, don’t I?”
That murmured line came out just slightly shaking, and the tips of her lowered lashes looked faintly damp.
“I mean… honestly, if you ask me whether I want it or not… I want it too.”
A quiet laugh rises between us, filling the small living room.
An impossible wish.
A fairy tale that could never happen in reality.
Both of us understood that, painfully well, deep down.
And yet, somehow, just talking about the “what if” over and over felt like a way of quietly checking in with each other, reassuring something between us.
On the TV, the usual morning news show keeps playing some carefree travel segment.
“Come on, we should get going soon, Makina. We’ll miss the flight—”
I grab the suitcase handle, glancing idly at the screen, and right at that exact moment—
A sudden electronic chime rings out.
“Breaking news.”
A red banner appears across the top of the screen, and the announcer reads the script, just slightly faster than usual.
The instant the content reaches my ears, a chill runs straight down my spine.
“This morning, a stunning announcement was made that rewrites the history of medical science. Humanity appears to have succeeded in a new challenge to millions of years of reproductive precedent.”
The meaning doesn’t land properly in my head.
And yet, my palm, still gripping the suitcase handle, is already slick with sweat.
I forget to breathe.
“An international joint research team has announced the world’s first successful fertilization and birth using genetic material from two same-sex partners alone. This means biological children can now be born to same-sex couples without requiring a biological father or mother—”
My fingertips go suddenly cold.
The “what if” fairy tale we’d just been quietly, wistfully laughing about together — is now, with an audible click, repainting the entire world into reality.
“The first child born to a same-sex married couple is currently reported to be in excellent health, and while the development has sparked ethical debate, legal frameworks toward practical implementation are said to be moving forward rapidly—”
“…Wait, what did they just… say…?!”
Thud, thud — my own heartbeat pounds loud enough to be obnoxious in my own ears.
Still gripping the suitcase handle, tight.
We just stay there, staring at each other’s faces.
Eyes wide open, unable to speak, unable to move even slightly.
Again.
It’s happening again.
Is god… actually granting my wish?