Makoto took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The clinic was clean and quiet, smelling faintly of antiseptic and lavender. A friendly-looking receptionist glanced up and smiled, her eyes widening just slightly as she took in the whole entourage.
Her gaze dropped to Yuna's hand, clamped tight around Makoto's. She just smiled, the kind of knowing, sympathetic smile that said she'd seen plenty in this line of work.
"Welcome, Makoto Ayasato-san," she said. "You must be the 4 PM group. The doctor will be with you shortly. Please, have a seat." She gestured to a large, plush sofa that looked big enough to hold all of them.
They moved to the sofa and settled in to wait. Surprisingly, the atmosphere wasn't as tense as Makoto had feared, largely thanks to Ayane's refusal to take anything seriously. But Makoto noticed the slight tremor in the gamer girl's hand.
"Hmm, don't act like you're not worried about anything, Ayane," Makoto murmured, slowly leaning in to rub her belly gently. "We've got to find out how to tell your parents later, too."
Ayane let out a short, nervous laugh at his touch, a little too loud for the quiet waiting room. She instinctively covered his hand with hers, pressing it closer to her flat stomach. The warmth of her skin seeped through the thin fabric of her shirt.
"Oh, they're gonna love it," she said, her voice bright but brittle. "My mom's been begging for a grandchild for years. My dad… well, he likes you." She bit her lip, her bravado faltering for the first time. "Though he might change his mind when he realizes his perfect future son-in-law also impregnated three other girls at the exact same time."
A flicker of fear crossed her face. "But hey, at least we should have a marriage? Kind of?"
Yuna, sitting on Makoto's other side, stiffened. Her gaze snapped from Ayane to Makoto, her violet eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Who said anything about a marriage? You're not marrying him first, you cow! There's a queue, and I'm at the front!"
"There's no queue," Mika said calmly as she turned a page in a parenting magazine she'd picked up. "Polygamy is not legally recognized in this country. Maybe we should fly to a country that allows polygamy for our marriage." She looked up, her pink eyes locking onto Makoto. "I will do more research then, darling."
"Can we please not talk about this here, please?" Mafuyu whispered, face buried in her hands. "People can hear us."
Just then, a door opened, and a woman in a white coat stepped out, clipboard in hand. She looked kind and tired, but professional. "Ah," she said, her gaze sweeping over the chaotic group on the sofa. "You all must be the... group appointment."
She took a deep breath and adjusted her glasses. "Would you all like to come in together?"
"Yeah, we're going together," Makoto confirmed, standing up. He held Yuna and Mika's hands, then realized he was two hands short for the others. "Grab my arms then, Ayane, Mafuyu."
Ayane immediately latched onto his arm, her grip tight and possessive as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "With pleasure, boss," she said loud enough for the entire waiting room to hear.
Mafuyu hesitated for a second, then shyly took his other arm. Her touch was soft and tentative but firm. She didn't say anything, but the gratitude was written all over her face.
They walked into the examination room as a single five-person unit, bristling with nervous energy.
The doctor, whose name tag read Dr. Homura, raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she ushered them into a large room with several chairs and an exam table. "Alright," she said, her voice calm and professional, when she sat down at her desk and opened a file on her computer. "You're all here for pregnancy confirmation and initial prenatal care, correct?"
She looked at the four women, then at Makoto. "And you are…" She paused, her pen hovering over the paper.
"The father," Yuna blurted out before anyone else could speak. She was standing beside him, chin lifted in defiance. "Of all of them."
"And the stepbrother of hers," Ayane grinned and pointed a thumb at Yuna.
"And my master," Mika said, her voice a serene purr.
"And… my boyfriend," Mafuyu whispered, blushing furiously.
Dr. Homura stared at Makoto and Yuna, then shifted her gaze to Ayane, Mika, and Mafuyu, then back to Makoto. She slowly put her pen down, took off her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, slow sigh.
"…Right," she said, her voice strained. "Well. That simplifies the genetic history portion, I suppose." She put her glasses back on. "Who would like to go first?"
"Me," Yuna snapped, stepping forward instantly. She dropped Makoto's hand to march over to the exam table, hopping up with a nervous energy that didn't quite match her confident tone. "I'm the main one, so I go first."
When the cold gel was applied to her stomach, Yuna hissed like an angry cat. But when the monitor flickered to life and showed a tiny, grainy gray blob, she froze. "That's… it?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"That's the fetus," Dr. Homura said, pointing at the screen. "Measuring approximately eight weeks. Heartbeat is strong."
A rapid, rhythmic whoosh-whoosh-whoosh filled the room. Yuna's hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears instantly. "It's noisy," she choked out, glaring at the screen through blurry eyes. "Just like its father. Shut up! Don't look at me… I'm not crying, it's the allergies…"
Next was Mika. She handed Dr. Homura a printed sheet of her basal body temperature and cycle tracking before lying down, perfectly still.
When her baby's heartbeat filled the room, slightly faster than Yuna's, a terrifyingly smug expression spread across her lips. "Around 160 beats per minute," she noted, looking at Yuna. "Yours was 155. Mine is more vigorous."
Dr. Homura stared at her. "It varies by baby, miss. It's not a competition."
"Everything is a competition, doctor," Mika whispered to the ceiling, placing a hand protectively over the gel-slicked mound. "And we are winning."
Then came Ayane. She was cracking jokes the whole time she was getting situated, "Does this angle make me look fat?" But the moment the wand touched her stomach, she grabbed Makoto's hand, squeezing so hard his knuckles turned white.
When the image appeared, she let out an incredulous laugh. "Holy shit," she breathed. "There's actually a pilot in my cockpit." She traced the shape on the screen with a trembling finger.
"Hey, little Asuka, it's Mom. Stop flying around in there, you're making me nauseous." She looked at Makoto, grinning widely with tears sliding down her cheeks. "Makoto… we really made a baby."
Finally, Mafuyu. She was shaking so badly that Dr. Homura had to help her lie back. She clutched the hem of her shirt with her eyes squeezed shut, terrified of what she might or might not hear.
When the sound came, steady and strong and rhythmic, her eyes flew open. The relief that washed over her face was almost too much to look at. "Oh," she sobbed, the word cracking in half with joy. "Oh, thank goodness. Thank goodness."
She reached out blindly for Makoto, needing something to hold onto. "It's okay," she wept. "They're okay."
After it was all done, Dr. Homura wiped her hands and turned to face the five of them. "Well," she said, looking at the four distinct ultrasound printouts lined up on her desk. "Congratulations. You have four healthy pregnancies, all dating back to approximately the same conception window of two months ago."
"Eight weeks, I see. Glad to know they're all okay," Makoto said, letting out a heavy sigh with an awkward but happy smile on his face. "Anything we need to be worrying about, Dr. Homura? It's all our first time."
Dr. Homura looked at him with something close to pity when she interlaced her fingers on top of the desk and leaned forward. "They are all within normal parameters for the first trimester," she began, her tone clinical. "However, since you asked what you should be worried about…"
She gestured to the four women sitting around him. "You are about to have four women going through significant hormonal fluctuations in the same household. Mood swings and cravings and nausea, all happening at once."
She fixed him with a stare that chilled his blood. "Sir, my medical advice for you is to develop patience and perhaps buy some earplugs."
She turned her attention to the women, handing each of them a packet of pamphlets. "Now, standard protocols apply. No alcohol, no smoking, no raw fish or unpasteurized cheeses…"
"No raw fish?!" Ayane gasped, looking like she had just been shot. "But… sushi! Sashimi! The onsen trip!"
"Cooked fish only," Dr. Homura said firmly. "And limit your caffeine."
"What?!" Yuna slammed her hand on the desk. "How am I supposed to grind for events without energy drinks?! I'll fall behind the meta!"
"Decaf tea or coffee only, miss," Dr. Homura countered, unbothered. "And plenty of sleep."
She glanced at her notes, then back at Makoto. Yuna and Ayane instantly straightened up, listening intently. Even Mika leaned forward slightly.
"Unless there is spotting or cramping, there is no medical reason to abstain from sexual intercourse," Dr. Homura said, adjusting her glasses. "In fact, it can help with stress relief. Just listen to your bodies. And perhaps find positions that do not put pressure on the abdomen."
Yuna let out a loud, triumphant cheer, throwing her arms in the air. "HA! IN YOUR FACE!" She pointed a finger at Makoto. "Did you hear that, brother?! Doctor's orders! Stress relief! Tonight!"
Mika nodded, making a note on her phone. "Noted. Stress relief is vital for fetal development."
Dr. Homura sighed and rubbed her temples. "I'm prescribing you all prenatal vitamins. And for you…" She wrote something on a sticky note and handed it to Makoto with a wink.
It was the number for a mental health crisis hotline. "Good luck, future papa," she said, her voice ominous. "You might need it."