The regular briefing report on SMSG's establishment was delivered to Takuya Nakayama's desk, but he only glanced at it before casually setting it aside. Nothing happening in North America right now could be called urgent.
What was truly urgent was at home.
The heavy, dragging sensation in Eri Nakayama's abdomen was becoming more pronounced. By the afternoon, she was already experiencing several irregular contractions.
Although it was only her body making final preparations for labor—there was no bleeding or rupture of the membranes—the live-in nurse immediately gave the safest recommendation.
"Mr. Nakayama, it's time to prepare to go to the hospital."
That single sentence was like the starting gun.
The entire Nakayama residence instantly shifted from quiet anticipation into high-speed emergency mode.
The plan they had prepared long ago was activated at once. Takuya rushed back to the bedroom and grabbed the two large suitcases that had already been packed. His mother, Miyuki Nakayama, moved like a commander on the field—supporting Eri personally while calmly issuing instructions to the longtime housekeeper, Keiko.
"Keiko, Eri's favorite blanket! And the thermos—fill it with warm water!"
"Sir, the car is ready!"
"Got it!"
Takuya took one suitcase in each hand and hurried downstairs, still trying to reassure his mother as he went. "Mom, don't panic. We've got everything. The hospital has whatever else we need."
"Is a hospital as comfortable as home?" Miyuki shot him a glare, carefully supporting her daughter-in-law's waist. "Eri, slow down. No rush. Watch your step."
Seeing the commotion, Eri's lingering nervousness actually eased a little. She couldn't help giving Takuya a helpless yet amused look.
With efficiency worthy of a military operation, the family delivered Eri safely to the highest-grade VIP maternity suite at Sugiyama Obstetrics and Gynecology Hospital.
Calling it a hospital room was almost misleading—it was more like a luxury hotel suite equipped with full medical facilities.
But no matter how comfortable the environment, once Eri changed into her hospital gown and lay on the adjustable bed, the tension before battle inevitably surged.
Ten months of pregnancy—countless parenting books and childbirth classes crammed into her mind—but now that the moment had truly arrived, there was still a vast chasm between theory and reality, one called fear.
Takuya noticed his wife's unease immediately.
Without hesitation, he set aside all work and snapped open the two large suitcases with a sharp click.
The next second, Eri stared in disbelief.
Her husband began pulling items out as if performing magic.
A thick photo album was placed on the bedside table.
"Eri, look—this was when we first met. You were waiting for me outside the TV station, then it started pouring. We had to squeeze under one umbrella. Remember?"
He flipped to a page and pointed at the photo of two slightly awkward young people. Seeing herself in the picture, half her shoulder soaked yet smiling so brightly, Eri felt her lips curve upward without realizing it.
Next came a stack of Chuka Ichiban! scripts covered in handwritten notes.
"And this—when we were filming the 'Rising Dragon Dumplings.' The prop team steamed dough skins over a hundred times and still couldn't get it right. The director was so mad he nearly flipped the table."
His exaggerated imitation made Eri laugh. A mild tightening rippled through her abdomen; she took a deep breath, and her tension eased just a little more.
And he still wasn't done.
From the depths of the suitcase, Takuya carefully took out small objects wrapped in soft cloth and lined them up on the windowsill.
Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle—one palm-sized clay figure after another, arranged neatly in a row, from No. 001 all the way to No. 251.
"The complete Pokédex—everyone present and accounted for! When our baby's born, this'll be the first thing he sees: all his partners!"
Eri looked at the magnificent lineup, torn between laughing and scolding him. This man had practically moved half the house into the hospital.
Finally, Takuya dragged out a huge, round, pink plush toy from the bottom of the suitcase and plopped it onto the empty sofa.
"Ta-da! Jigglypuff! Your mission is to sing—but you're not allowed to sing the doctors and nurses to sleep, got it?" He patted its head solemnly.
In an instant, the sterile hospital room transformed into a warm little nest filled with memories and childlike charm.
Eri's parents, Jun Nakagawa and Takako Nakagawa, soon arrived as well.
Seeing their daughter so well cared for and in good spirits, they finally relaxed completely.
Takako held Eri's hand, murmuring gentle, caring words, while Jun, the company president, patted his son-in-law's shoulder, his eyes full of approval and trust.
"Takuya, thank you. You've worked hard."
"Dad, don't say that."
Before leaving, Takako reminded him again and again, "Takuya, the moment her water breaks, call us right away!"
After seeing his parents-in-law off, the room fell quiet again.
Takuya peeled an apple and fed Eri small pieces.
"Takuya…" Eri suddenly spoke, her voice trembling slightly.
"Hm? What is it?"
"I'm still a little scared." Her fingers clenched the blanket unconsciously.
Takuya set down the knife, took her cold hand, and wrapped it fully in his warm palms.
He didn't offer empty reassurances like "Don't be afraid" or "It'll be fine." Instead, he pressed her hand gently to his cheek and said softly,
"I'm here."
"The baby's here too."
"The two of us—father and son—we'll stay with you together."
Feeling the warmth of his palm and the steady firmness of his gaze, the last of Eri's fear seemed to melt away.
She nodded. Just as she was about to speak again, a stronger contraction than before surged through her abdomen.
She let out a muffled groan, her brow instantly knitting.
Takuya tensed at once. "Another one? Should I call the doctor?"
"N-no… not yet…" Eri gasped, a complicated smile appearing on her face. "This time… it feels a little different."
On the third morning after being admitted to Sugiyama Hospital, that familiar heavy sensation struck again.
Eri had just swallowed the last sip of warm miso soup when her abdomen tightened sharply, followed by an uncontrollable rush of warmth.
She and Takuya exchanged a look—the calm on their faces froze instantly.
"My water broke!"
Takuya practically launched himself upward and slammed the emergency call button beside the bed.
The room that had been full of warmth and playfulness for days instantly reverted to the cold efficiency of a medical ward as the piercing alarm rang out.
Nurses streamed in, swiftly transferring Eri to a mobile bed.
"Mr. Nakayama, please wait outside."
The heavy door of the delivery room closed with a dull thud, sealing off two worlds.
Takuya took a deep breath. His fingers trembled as he pulled out his phone.
"Mom, it's me. Eri—she's gone into the delivery room."
On the other end, Miyuki Nakayama's voice shot up, then quickly steadied. "Got it. We're coming right away!
Takuya, don't panic. Stay with Eri!"
"She's already inside. I can't go in," Takuya said hoarsely.
After hanging up, he immediately called his in-laws and briefly explained the situation.
Within half an hour, the hallway outside the delivery room was full.
Hayao Nakayama and his wife arrived almost at the same time as Jun and Takako Nakagawa. Anxiety was written on all four elders' faces.
The president of Sega, Hayao Nakayama, was now nothing more than an ordinary grandfather waiting for his first grandchild.
He handed his suit jacket to his secretary, standing there in just a white shirt, arms crossed, silently leaning against the wall. But those eyes that had once dominated boardrooms never left the tightly closed delivery room door.
Time ticked by.
At first, the delivery room was quiet. Nurses came and went occasionally, bringing only reassurances: "Everything is going well. Please be patient."
But as the hours passed and afternoon gave way to evening, Eri's suppressed cries could no longer be contained by the door.
Each sound lashed at the hearts of everyone waiting outside.
Takuya could no longer sit still. Like a caged beast, he paced the hallway, every step heavy.
"Can't you sit down already?" Hayao snapped at last, his voice tight with restrained agitation. "You're making me dizzy!"
Takuya stopped abruptly, glanced at his father, his lips moving—but no words came. He turned and resumed pacing.
Miyuki sighed and tugged at him. "Takuya, eat something. You haven't had anything all day."
"I can't."
Eight hours passed.
Night fell, the corridor lights casting a harsh white glow.
The sounds from the delivery room had escalated from muffled groans to heartrending screams.
The pain in those cries made even the men shudder. Hayao's face darkened. He walked over and handed Takuya a can of iced coffee.
"Drink something. Stay sharp. Childbirth is like this—women walk through the gates of hell. Men do too."
Just then, a nurse came out carrying an empty tray.
Takuya rushed over and blocked her path. "Nurse, how is my wife? Why is she screaming so badly?"
Used to such scenes, the nurse replied calmly, "Mr. Nakayama, please rest assured. Your wife's vital signs are normal, and she's very strong. This is still the first stage of labor. The pain is normal."
Still not the final stage?
Just the first stage was already this agonizing?
It felt as though someone had clenched Takuya's heart in a vise. Helplessness and anguish surged together.
He staggered back against the cold wall, pressing his forehead to it, then slammed his fist into his open palm with a dull smack that echoed through the silent corridor.
Hayao's eyes flickered, but he said nothing.
Suddenly, from inside the delivery room came a scream sharper and more desperate than any before—as if Eri had poured every last ounce of strength into it.
Then—
Silence.
The hallway fell deathly quiet.
Takuya snapped his head up, bloodshot eyes locked on the door.
Why was there no sound?
After that piercing scream, inside and outside the delivery room alike were swallowed by suffocating silence.
Time seemed to freeze.
Takuya stood rigid, his blood turning to ice. The closed door became a monstrous beast ready to devour everything.
He could hear his own heart pounding, over and over, hammering his ears.
Why was there no sound?
Eri—
Just as the silence threatened to drive him mad—
"Waaah—! Waaah!"
A loud, clear, vibrant cry of a newborn suddenly tore through the stillness!
The sound was like music from heaven.
Takuya's tense body went slack all at once. He slid back against the wall, strength leaving him, his eyes burning as tears welled up uncontrollably.
"He's born! He's born!" Miyuki Nakayama and Takako Nakagawa cried with joy, embracing each other tightly.
The rigid lines of Hayao Nakayama's face softened instantly. He let out a long breath, finally unclenching his fists.
Click—the delivery room door opened.
A nurse removed her mask, smiling with professional relief. "Congratulations. It's a healthy boy—2.93 kilograms. Mother and child are both safe."
"Safe—safe is good—" Takuya rushed up. "My wife—Eri—how is she?"
"Mrs. Nakayama is very strong. She's just exhausted and needs rest. Please don't worry."
With that reassurance, everyone finally relaxed completely.
Hayao walked over and slapped Takuya on the back—hard.
"Straighten up, you brat. From today on, you're a father."
Though it sounded like a scolding, the excitement in his voice was impossible to hide.
While waiting for the baby to be cleaned up, Takuya was the first to rush back to the warm VIP room.
By the time the nurses wheeled in the incubator and mobile bed a few minutes later, he had already tidied everything up, even moving the giant Jigglypuff plush into the corner so it wouldn't be in the way.
Eri was carefully transferred back onto the bed. Her face was pale, her hair soaked with sweat and clinging to her cheeks and forehead. She looked utterly drained, as if she'd just been pulled from water—yet there was a radiance about her she'd never had before.
Takuya didn't even glance at the baby in the incubator. He went straight to the bedside, leaned down, gently brushed aside Eri's damp hair, and carefully wiped her face and neck with a warm towel.
He said nothing—only took her hand and pressed a burning kiss to it.
All the words he couldn't say were in that kiss.
Eri opened her eyes weakly, looking at his bloodshot eyes and the stubble shadowing his jaw. She managed a faint smile.
"Our… baby?" she whispered.
"He's right here, Eri. Look." Miyuki Nakayama had already carefully taken the swaddled bundle from the nurse. Beaming, she hurried over and gently brought the child close to Eri's face.
The little one was wrapped snugly, only a wrinkled face exposed. His skin glowed healthy red, eyes tightly shut, lips smacking now and then.
"So ugly…" Eri murmured, tears sliding down her temples.
"Ugly? Not at all!" Takuya protested instantly. He leaned in, studying his son closely, the sense of blood-bound connection clearer than ever. "Look at that nose—so sharp! And those brows—just like you. He's going to be handsome for sure!"
Hayao Nakayama leaned in as well. The man who once dominated the business world now peered at his first grandson like any ordinary grandfather, reading glasses on, examining him with utmost care.
Takuya looked at his father, then at his wife and son. The last trace of unease vanished, replaced by a profound sense of wholeness and peace.
He took Eri's hand again and felt her squeeze back with all her remaining strength.
They exchanged a smile.
Nothing more needed to be said.
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