The Yakuza's flower

Baby coming

Ume's pov

The wait was horrible

A nurse came to get me from the waiting area

They said "the baby's coming now," one of the nurses told me. "We can't wait."

So I went with her. Because I was all she had right now.

She groaned, clutching her belly again. "Guess he wants to meet us early..."

"I'm here," I said, voice trembling. "I'm not leaving you."

I didn't know how I was standing upright. Being here—watching her go through something I never got the chance to do —it tore open something raw in me. But I couldn't give in to that. She needed someone strong.

So I pretended.

The nurses handed me a gown and gloves, told me to suit up. I followed everything on autopilot, heart racing in my ears. I didn't have time to panic. I didn't have time to feel.

Machines beeped. Doctors moved like they were dancing a routine they knew too well. Maribel's grip on my hand tightened.

"Ume..." she whispered, voice cracking. "If something happens—"

"Don't." I cut her off, my voice harsher than I meant. "Don't say that."

"But if it does... promise me you'll help him feel safe. That you'll tell Rey I—"

The door burst open.

"Maribel!"

Rey's voice. Rough. Desperate.

I turned in time to see him rushing in, his hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned, panic written all over his face. His eyes found her first. Then her swollen belly. Then the tears in her eyes.

He nearly collapsed beside her.

"You made it," she whispered, voice full of something I couldn't describe. Relief. Love. Everything.

Rey grabbed her face in his hands, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth. "I'm here, baby. I'm here. You're okay."

I stepped back slowly, my chest twisting. Not in jealousy—never that. But something close to grief and something close to hope tangled together.

He took her hand from mine.

She squeezed his, and for the first time, I saw her body begin to shake.

The doctor glanced up. "She's ready. We're starting now."

Rey looked over at me for just a second. That soft, grateful look that said thank you.

I nodded, blinking back the sting in my eyes, and moved to stand by her other side.

The room pulsed with urgency. The beeping machines, the shouted instructions, the nurses' brisk movements—it all blurred together. But the sound I focused on was Maribel's breathing, sharp and frantic.

Rey held her hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

"You're doing great," he whispered, forehead pressed to hers. "You're so strong, baby. Just a little more."

Maribel cried out as another contraction hit. Her back arched and she gasped, "It hurts—it hurts so bad—"

I whispered, gripping her free hand. "You've got this, Mari. You're doing it."

Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn't stop. She bore down with everything she had.

"Okay, Maribel," the doctor called, calm but firm. "On the next contraction, I need you to push."