Chapter 6: The Day Rin Was Born

-26 February 2009-

That day is etched into my memory forever. I was at work, buried under a mountain of tasks, when my phone rang. The screen lit up with my father's name. He never called unless something serious had happened. I picked up, and before I could say anything, his voice came through, sharp and filled with anger.

"Ryusei, what are you doing? Keiko is in the hospital right now! Why aren't you here?"

His words sent a jolt of panic through me. My heart started racing, my hands shaking as I held the phone. The doctor had said it would be the 28th. Why now? Was something wrong with Keiko? Was the baby in danger?

I immediately asked my boss for permission to leave and ran out of the building. My legs felt heavy, but the urgency drove me forward. By the time I arrived at the hospital, my lungs burned from running, and sweat dripped down my face.

Bursting into the room, I stopped in my tracks. There, cradled in Keiko's arms, was a tiny bundle. The blanket was soft and white, and within it, I saw the smallest hands and feet I had ever seen. My heart felt like it stopped for a moment.

"She's here," Keiko said, her voice weak but filled with warmth.

I approached slowly, my legs trembling. The tiny baby stirred in her arms, her small face scrunching up before she let out a soft cry. My throat tightened as I looked at her—my daughter. My baby girl.

"We'll name her Rin," Keiko whispered, smiling through the exhaustion.

"Rin…" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch her hand. Her fingers were so small but wrapped around mine instinctively. In that moment, something inside me shifted. It was a feeling I couldn't describe—a mix of overwhelming love and fear.

Keiko looked at me, her face pale but serene. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

I nodded, unable to speak. My mind raced with thoughts of how unworthy I was of this moment, of how much I had failed before. But looking at Rin, I silently promised her and Keiko that I would do better.

---

After Keiko was discharged, we moved into a small rented apartment that I could barely afford with my income. It was a cramped, run-down space with peeling wallpaper and creaky floors—far worse than her parents' home. But Keiko never complained. She adapted quickly, taking care of Rin and managing the housework without a single word of resentment.

I should have appreciated her more back then.

Surprisingly, our relationship improved after Rin was born. Keiko's warmth and strength became the glue that held us together. Despite my long hours at work, coming home to her and Rin made the exhaustion bearable. On weekends, we would have small, happy moments as a family—cooking meals together, laughing at Rin's little giggles, and watching her take her first steps.

For four years, I believed we could make it work. I believed that, despite our rocky start, we were building a future. But life has a way of testing you when you least expect it.

---

By the time Rin was four, cracks had started to appear in the life I thought we were building. My job hadn't progressed at all. I was still in the same low position, with no opportunities for advancement. Every month, I barely managed to make ends meet. The thought of Rin starting school added another layer of stress. School fees, supplies, uniforms—I didn't know how I'd afford it all.

Keiko noticed my growing frustration. One evening, as we sat together after dinner, she brought it up.

"Ryusei," she said gently, "I can start working now. Rin's older, and I can help with the expenses."

Her offer was well-meaning, but my pride wouldn't allow it. "No," I replied sharply. "I'm the one who should provide for this family."

"But—"

"I said no!"

Our conversation escalated into a fight. It wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last. My stubbornness and growing stress turned me into someone I barely recognized. I became irritable, snapping at Keiko over small things. I started to drink alcohol frequently to relieve my stress, often consuming so much that I would pass out. And worse, I began to take my frustration out on her and Rin.

---

One night, after a particularly grueling day at work, I came home to Rin crying loudly. Her wails pierced through my already frayed nerves. Without thinking, I lashed out and slapped her. The sound of my hand connecting with her small face echoed in the room.

Keiko rushed to Rin, shielding her with her arms. She turned to me, her eyes blazing with anger. "How dare you hit her!"

"I—I didn't mean to…" I stammered, but the damage was done.

Our fight escalated to a level it never had before. In my rage and frustration, I hit Keiko too. It wasn't until I saw the fear in her eyes and the tears streaming down Rin's face that I realized what I had done.

After that night, Keiko stopped talking to me. She continued to take care of Rin, but there was a distance between us that felt insurmountable.

---

Instead of facing my mistakes, I ran from them. Some nights, I wouldn't come home. I started spending time with a coworker—a guy who was as much of a mess as I was. He introduced me to women, encouraging me to let loose and forget my responsibilities.

At first, I resisted. I wanted to believe I could still change, that I could fix things with Keiko. But the pressure at work and home became too much. One night, I gave in. I cheated on Keiko.

For a fleeting moment, I felt free, like I was escaping the life that had suffocated me. But the guilt hit me harder than anything else ever had.

One month later, Keiko found out. I don't know how, but she confronted me calmly.

"Do you still want me and Rin in your life?" she asked, her voice steady but cold.

I couldn't answer. Shame choked me, and all I could do was apologize. I promised her it would never happen again, begging for her forgiveness. To my surprise, she accepted my apology. But things were never the same after that.

---

When Rin started school, Keiko began working part-time. Her contribution eased the financial burden, but it also deepened the divide between us. We fought more often, and the love that had once grown between us felt like it was slipping away.

While I tried my best not to mess up my life again—I didn't want to disappoint Keiko anymore. I focused on providing for Keiko and Rin, but life never seemed to go easy on me. Rin, my daughter, grew up hating me, and I could feel her looking at me like I was a dangerous enemy. Even now, I still haven't been able to fix my relationship with her.

While Keiko had complex feelings toward me—remaining cold and distant after I cheated on her—there were moments when she still showed concern and warmth when I needed it most. Those fleeting acts of kindness made me cherish her more with each passing day.

Seventeen years have passed since we first met. Our journey together has been anything but smooth. We're tired, worn down by life and each other, yet somehow still here together.