The sound of taiko drums echoed in the air. Lanterns danced against the night sky as the grand festival of Obon painted the streets of Tokyo with laughter, prayers, and remembrance. While the whole nation celebrated the spirits of ancestors, one house held its breath — awaiting a different arrival.
Inside the Nakamura household, tension crawled like an unwelcome guest.
Veena, now eight months pregnant, sat quietly in her corner of the room, one hand on her belly, the other resting on a half-stitched fabric she hadn't had the strength to finish.
Her husband, Shinsuke, paced the room, occasionally glancing at the clock hung above the kamidana, the family altar. His face flickered between excitement and nervousness.
"We'll soon have a child… Our family is going to be blessed," he whispered to himself, trying to convince both fate and his trembling heart.
But not everyone in the household shared that feeling.
Sitting at the opposite end of the tatami room, Puruburō and Kamiko exchanged stiff glances. Their faces were tight, their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves.
"What if… it's a boy?" Kamiko whispered sharply, voice low enough to avoid Veena's ears but sharp enough to cut.
"Damn it… If she gives birth to a son…" Puruburō clenched his jaw. His hands curled into fists. "Everything... the inheritance, the house, the land... will start slipping from our hands."
His eyes shifted nervously to the corner where a small cradle stood, not for Veena's unborn child, but for his own son — a fragile boy, only seven months old, weak-bodied, with arms thinner than chopsticks and legs that hadn't kicked strongly even once since birth. Even the midwife had whispered doubts about whether the boy would survive the year.
And now, with Veena expecting a child — and the strong possibility of a boy — the invisible battle for the Nakamura family's future had begun.
At 3:00 a.m., Veena clutched her belly as a wave of stabbing pain surged through her.
"Shinsuke-san... ah... it hurts..." she gasped, her hands trembling, sweat beading on her forehead. Her breathing turned shallow, panicked.
Shinsuke's eyes widened. "Are you—? Is it...?"
"It's time," she hissed, biting her lip.
Without wasting a second, Shinsuke scrambled for his phone, calling the only taxi service that operated at this late hour. The hospital in Tokyo was two hours away.
"Hold on... hold on, Veena..." he muttered, gripping her hand as they rushed out, the festival lights blurring behind them as the taxi sped through the sleeping roads.
The city's skyline barely caught the first hint of dawn when they reached the hospital at 5:15 a.m.
Inside the labor ward, Veena gripped the metal rail of the hospital bed, tears mixing with sweat, her cries muffled against the sterile white walls.
For hours, her body endured what her life had already taught her — pain without mercy.
Doctors whispered urgently, nurses moved swiftly. Shinsuke stood outside, pacing, biting his nails, until—
A loud, sharp cry tore through the hallway. Not weak. Not faint. But strong. Loud. Demanding. Like a lion roaring at the world that dared deny his place.
"Omedetou gozaimasu... It's a boy!" the nurse announced.
Shinsuke froze. His mouth opened, then curved into a stunned, breathless smile.
"A boy...! I have a son..."
The nurse continued, "A healthy boy. Weight — 3 kilograms. Very healthy. Very strong lungs, as you heard."
Shinsuke's eyes flooded with happiness. He grabbed his phone, barely waiting, dialing the home number.
The line connected.
"It's a boy! Veena has given birth to a boy!" he declared, voice bursting with pride.
On the other side, silence struck the Nakamura household like thunder. Kamiko's chopsticks slipped from her fingers. Puruburō stiffened, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white.
Sawako, Shinsuke's mother, pressed her lips into a thin line, her face paling. The news hit her like a cold slap.
"This... this can't be..." Kamiko muttered.
Puruburō shot to his feet, pacing the room. "This ruins everything... A son... Shinsuke has a son now..."
Kamiko nodded, voice bitter as vinegar. "The house... the land... it's all his now... unless..." Her sentence trailed off into a silence heavy with malice.
Back at the hospital, joy filled Shinsuke's chest, blocking out every shadow of the world.
The nurse handed him the baby, wrapped tightly in soft, white cloth. Shinsuke's hands trembled—not with fear, but with awe. The baby blinked, tiny eyes shining under the fluorescent lights — dark, deep, captivating eyes. Eyes that looked... determined. Fierce. Alive.
"Look at you..." Shinsuke whispered. "So perfect..."
But not everything was perfect.
A doctor approached, clearing his throat. "Shinsuke-san... we need to inform you... your wife is still in the ICU."
Shinsuke blinked, surprised. "Why?"
"She's extremely weak. Her blood pressure dropped dangerously. She... hasn't had proper nutrition for weeks. Our tests show she hasn't consumed enough food for almost 2-3 days."
The doctor frowned. "Did you... not notice anything? This didn't happen overnight."
Shinsuke stiffened, but rather than ask further or connect the dots — rather than wonder why — he brushed it off with a dismissive wave.
"Ah... women worry too much. She'll be fine now." His attention floated back to the baby in his arms. "She has a strong boy now."
As if that was answer enough.
He stopped by a nearby shop, buying a box of sweet mochi. Standing under the crisp morning sky, Shinsuke smiled as if the world had just rewarded him for his patience.
A few hours later, Veena opened her eyes in the hospital bed. Pale. Fragile. But alive.
A soft, trembling voice greeted her:
"Veena-san... you did it... It's a boy."
Tears welled in her eyes — but not just tears of happiness. A whisper of realization crept in. A boy... this house won't welcome him... they won't celebrate him...
Her fingers curled around the thin hospital blanket. She turned to Shinsuke.
"Shinsuke-san... I have a request..."
"Hm?"
"Please... let's take him... to my mother's house. To my family. Just... for a while." Her voice cracked. "I... I know they'll love him... I know... they'll welcome him."
For a moment, Shinsuke was quiet. Then he nodded. "Alright... let's go. Let's take him there."
In a small house in the countryside, far away, Veena's parents — kind-hearted, humble — answered the phone call with hands trembling in joy.
"Veena... has a boy... Our grandson..." her mother whispered, already preparing the futons, lighting incense in thanks, sweeping the old wooden floors in celebration.
Unlike the house she married into…
Here, the sun wasn't unwelcome. Here, the boy would be cherished.
And so, the boy who would one day build an empire...
entered the world not with applause,
but with a roar louder than any curse placed upon him.