5: Days Like These

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TW: Panic Attacks

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"I was against even telling you at all, but the duties of my job do not allow me to withhold information from you."

He went silent again, and it was clear that he was holding out to say whatever it was that he had come to. The old doctor removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, his brow furrowing as he took just a moment to collect himself before he finally spoke again in a thick tone.

"Miss. Akiyama, were you...were you aware that you were pregnant?"

The sound of the curtain sliding open brought her back to the world all at once, made her aware of how cold the water that pelted down on her had gotten and how much the skin of her hands had begun to prune. If Gaara noticed, he didn't comment, and for that she was thankful. Instead he pressed a kiss to her wet shoulder and reached around her to adjust the temperature of the water back to something more comfortable.

"Good morning," He said, tone still thick with sleep.

Momoko glanced back at him, still feeling a little disconnected from the world, but managed a smile as her husband ran his fingers through her wet hair.

"Morning," She replied, closing her eyes at the feel of it. He gave a small hum in return, his fingers disappearing for a moment before returning covered with shampoo, and without another word he began to lather her hair in it.

Momoko sighed at the feel of it, bowing her head a little to give him better access to her scalp. It was a routine they knew well when it came to mornings like these: when Momoko woke up with a start and rose before Gaara even had a chance to wake up. Usually they waited until the other was awake before moving out from the warmth of their bed but some mornings started off a little less pleasant than others. It was just a part of life, a part of their life, and on days like these one of them picked up where the other fell short.

Gaara guided her back a few steps into the stream of water and she stared down at the suds as they ran down her body and then slipped through the drain. He carded his hands through her hair, content to let her collect herself as he took on the simple task of washing her hair.

"The gingko should be ready to harvest soon," He commented, watching the wet blonde strands slip through his fingers, "Do you know when?"

Momoko finally looked up to him, to the patience in his pale eyes and the wrinkles that time had folded around them, and found it within herself to answer.

"The first batch should be ready today, I think," Momoko replied, grateful for the distraction from the words that still rattled through her mind.

"That's good," Gaara said with a small smile, "It sounds like you'll have your hands full today, then."

That was reassuring, if only a little. A busy day meant hardly any time to think, to ponder on the thoughts that had begun flooding her mind more so lately than usual. It wasn't too unheard of for a few things to slip through her resolve once in a while, memories to flood through on their own accord, but lately it had felt as though there was hardly anything stopping the sour thoughts that weighed her down. She didn't want to blame any one thing, per say, but Momoko had a very good idea as to what had made her more sensitive in these last two weeks.

"Shinki and I will begin his training today," Gaara commented after shifting them so that he could finally stand under the water, "You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

From what we could tell, it was a girl.

"No," Momoko replied, unable to meet his gaze as she reached for the shampoo just as he had a few moments ago, "Thank you."

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