He didn't castrate Fuuto. That was extreme even by his standards. He simply circumcised him.
It had been his recommendation to his mother to help prevent future infections. While largely religious in origin, circumcision was also done for hygienic reasons. And also, since his mother was less than pleased that her second to youngest son had chosen to play about enough to get said infection—as well as mess with his sister, she had been more than happy with Masaomi's suggestion to scare him away from sticking his wiener into places it didn't belong.
Still, the poor boy was very, very sore, and now showed more terrified respect for Masaomi than any of his other older brothers combined.
Ukyo reported that he had gotten Kaname, on Louise's suggestion, to talk to Ema. Masaomi was pleased to see Ema returning to her usual happy, friendly self. He used Wataru as a sort of red herring so he could watch over her without seeming creepy or overly interested. Though even he had to admit that he was pushing it a bit, as Wataru wasn't the cute little ten-year-old he used to be, but a teenager in his own right, to everyone's growing chagrin.
"What do you want to be with more: an athlete, an idol, an actor, or a CEO? I'll become whichever one you want."
The way Wataru jut out his jaw as he said this made Masaomi drop his face into his hands. Now there was someone who had no qualms about age difference.
Ema was struck dumb. What does one say to that? And, like he had mentioned, Wataru wasn't a cute little kid anymore. Neither he nor Ema could wave away his words to childish fantasy anymore.
"Wataru, she's not going to want to be with anyone who makes her that uncomfortable," he said.
Wataru stiffened and whipped out an old fashion, childish grin.
"Then forget what I said, Ema. What do you want to play next?"
Ema looked down at her video game controller as though she had forgotten it, but appeared more than happy to leave the topic.
But as he watched them, crashing cars into the side of the screen and yelling pseudo curses, he found himself surprisingly bitter towards Wataru that he could even say those sorts of things. At his age, now a ripe 34 going on 35, Masaomi would sound like an idiot spouting those words.
He was old. Old and unappealing and a freaking pedophile for his sister.
Coming up with an excuse that he hardly heard to usher Wataru away, he herded the kid back to his room then walked back to his own room up to his eyes in something dark, acidic tasting, and painful. One by one, his other brothers passed through his mind's eye, all in love with the half woman, half girl, each one younger and more vibrant than the last.
Oh yeah. This was why he hadn't looked up. This was why he had tried not to pay too much attention.
Not long after Fuuto stopped the mincing walk of the freshly circumcised (giving the boy painkillers would have frustrated Masaomi's intentions), he was having a day not unlike every other day. A mother about his age with her little boy came to their appointment. There had been a small outbreak of hand, foot, and mouth disease, which gave babies and toddlers blisters on their...well, think of the name.
He had just finished verifying to her that her little boy had this, as it wasn't difficult to diagnose. She had given that wan smile that instantly told him she had more on her plate than the usual.
"It's probably best that he stay home and get a bit of spoiling," Masaomi didn't miss the tensing about her eyes and the drop to her shoulders. "Having blisters on the back of your throat and on your feet doesn't exactly make the happiest of players, and daycares won't accept him like this anyways. He should be noncontagious once the blisters are gone."
She nodded and sighed. "That's going to be hard to work out."
"I can write up a note for your employer. That should help in getting your time off."
"It's not so much the time off but the money I'm worried about."
He nodded, unable to do much there. He already donated a hefty amount to the local charity for single parents and their kids. He also knew it would be tactless to ask if she had anyone else who could watch her son, or even a husband, at that.
She seemed to sense the sympathy in his eyes, for she gave him a soft, gracious smile. It made the circles under her eyes more pronounced.
"I'll be alright, doctor." She hesitated. "Do you have any kids?"
"No. But I have several handfuls of little brothers that keep me busy enough. My mother is a career woman who works overseas, and my father passed away over a decade ago."
She nodded, cocking her head to the side. "Does your wife not want any?"
"Oh, I'm not married." And because he knew what would follow, he stood and stepped towards the door. "I'll send in that prescription for you. Let me know if anything new develops." He gave a smile to the dark haired three-year-old on his table, happily sucking at a cold popsicle with numbing attributes.
Apparently, however, he had not moved out of the area quickly enough. As soon as he turned the paper to his office assistant, he felt a hand touch his sleeve and found the mother with a shy little smile, her little boy on her hip.
"Would it be too weird to ask if you'd like to have coffee sometime?"
He gave her his smile, that same smile that he gave to everyone.
"I'm afraid I'm completely booked for some time. Being a doctor and having kids at home does that."
He could tell she was disappointed, but her small smile didn't falter. She just nodded, thanked him again, and left the office.
Dani, a plump, neighborhood mom type of woman and the top hen of his flock of clucking office/medical assistants, tittered.
"You're going to need to come up with a better excuse than that, Doctor."
"I prefer not resorting to an outright lie."
"Then just tell her you aren't interested in dating," said Kyoi, before sliding the little glass pane between the office and the waiting room to call his next patient. She was around his age, but happily married with two little girls. She was more or less Dani's second in command since she was one of the few who had never considered Masaomi as a candidate for romance.
He opened his mouth to say that was a lie but closed it. Stupid. Never even hint that you were interested in dating to a gaggle of office woman.
But Dani wouldn't miss that. Top hen indeed. She slapped her hands to her plentiful cheeks.
"Oooo! You like someone!"
He dropped his clipboard and did his best not to make his fleeing obvious as he followed another, now gawking female medical assistant to his next client.
Of course he was still interested in dating. He just...wasn't interested in dating. Yes, that would have only made sense to him.
He sighed through his nose as he shone a light onto the swollen tonsils of a miserable twelve-year-old. Her mother had just vacated to hold the hand of another child enduring pre-school shots.
"My standards are too high," he said.
He tapped her mouth closed and reached again to feel the swollen lymph nodes on the sides of her neck.
"Too high for what?" she asked.
He winced at her raspy voice. "Women. I'm getting too old to be single."
The preteen furrowed her brow. "Even old people get married, though that's just gross."
"I thought a girl like you would say it is sweet."
She sniffed as though offended, though it doubled to stop the snot from dropping down. Poor thing. "I ain't no girly girl. Besides, if you think about old people getting married, you have to think about them doing...you know..."
He gaped at her, both appalled and so amused he nearly busted out in laughter. "You are way too young to know about the birds and the bees."
She blushed and looked at her knees.
Just one of the many reasons he loved his job.
That being said, it did set his mind down the wrong track. Birds and the bees wasn't exactly a good thing for a thirty-four-year-old virgin to think about. It wasn't like he was totally blind to the pleasures it promised. He'd...yeah. Bad place to go.
For the rest of the evening, he dealt with the hen pecking of the office girls and the lone male medical assistant about his reason for still wanting to date while not accepting any offers. It made him long for his testosterone, brother filled house, and when he got home he stopped to smell the faint cone-chiff smell of male on the couch just to purge his system. Or, rather, he collapsed face first on the sofa from exhaustion, so the smell was inevitable.
Next thing he knew, fingers in his hair stirred him from a heavy sleep. Too groggy to care who was touching him, he mentally reached for the fuzzy darkness. He had the vague feeling that he had been dreaming about something to do with old women tying him down with Christmas lights.
"They all work so hard..."
His sleepy mind purred at the sound. What a nice, gentle voice.
"You should be asleep too, Juli, so shh. You'll wake him."
When was the last time someone had touched him like this? Had stroked his hair as careful as butterflies through flowers? Mother? Had it really been so long? God, how had he gone so long without this?
Unbidden, his eyes began to burn beneath his closed lids. Something within him cracked open, raw and keening. And when the fingers finally lifted away, an actual whine left his throat, waking him up with a flash of shame. Horrified, he feigned sleep, hoping she hadn't heard.
Whether she did or not, he'd never know. A blanket was thrown over him and her soft footsteps padded up and away.
He waited before returning to his room, clutching the worn quilt about him like a coat against the storm. It was a while before he caught on to sleep again.