Shirayuki Hoshino

Nichoume Prefecture, Shinjuku.

Hoshino's POV.

A sharp pain in my hips and back greeted me as I stirred, pulling me uncomfortably into consciousness. Blinking groggily, I took in my surroundings, and my heart sank. This wasn't my flat.

I gasped softly, touching my bare skin under the covers. What on earth...? My mind raced as panic rose. Turning my head to the left, I froze. There, beside me, was a man—a man!—sound asleep, his quiet snores audible over the hum of the room.

My breath caught as I stared. He was... undeniably handsome. Messy hair, a strong jawline, the faintest shadow of stubble. But none of that mattered. I didn't even know him! I fought the urge to cry out, instead hurriedly pulling on my clothes, each movement a frantic blur.

Once dressed, I paused, stealing a glance at the stranger. He looked so peaceful, oblivious to my spiralling thoughts. Why him? I didn't dwell. Snatching up my bag, I slipped out of the room, my heart pounding.

Outside, rain lashed against the pavement, drenching the streets. Typical. I checked my wallet—definitely no money for a taxi. Spotting a vendor selling umbrellas near the hotel lobby, I shuffled over, purchasing one before making a beeline for the underground station just around the corner.

On the train, the events of the night played over in my head—or rather, didn't play. It was all a haze. Had I been drinking? I must have been. But why did I even go to Nichoume? The district was well-known for its lively gay bars, and while curiosity might've led me there, this... wasn't how I'd imagined things going. My hips still ached, a constant reminder of what had happened. Did I really...? With him?

It was my first time. Taken by a stranger in a night I couldn't even remember. A pang of shame settled over me. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Never again, I promised myself.

As I mulled over my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered with a shaky, "Moshi moshi?"

"Hoshino? Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday!" The familiar voice of Maki Ema, my colleague, crackled through the speaker.

"I'm sorry," I replied, keeping my tone even. "I... I turned off my phone."

"Are you all right? You sound... different."

"I'm fine, really," I lied, trying to brush it off. "Why are you calling? Did something happen?"

"There's big news!" Maki's voice brightened. "A company called about collaborating with us. Can you stop by the shop today?"

"Really? That's fantastic!" I replied, genuinely pleased for a moment before reality hit me. "I'll swing by later, but I need to go home and change first."

There was a pause before Maki asked, her tone sharp, "Wait. Did you go to Nichoume last night?"

The question made me stiffen. "I... No! Nothing happened. I was just curious!" The words tumbled out too quickly, my voice a little too high.

"Hoshino, you're so introverted about these things. You can talk to me, you know," Maki pressed gently.

"I said nothing happened!" I snapped, then immediately regretted my tone. "I'll call you back later, all right?"

Without waiting for her reply, I hung up and stuffed my phone into my pocket. My name is Shirayuki Hoshino, I'm twenty-two, and I'm a pastry chef at a small cake shop in Tokyo. My life is usually quiet, uneventful, even dull. But today, everything feels like a storm I can't escape.

.

.

.

I arrived at the cake shop and went straight inside to find Maki.

"Maki, I'm here!" I called out as I entered.

Without wasting time, I put on my white patisserie uniform and hat, tying the strings neatly at the back.

"You look a lot more refreshed, Hoshino," Maki said, still focused on decorating a cake. "I know something must have gone down in Nichoume yesterday."

"I'd rather not think about it," I replied lazily, grabbing ingredients from the cupboard to start baking.

Maki paused her work and looked over at me, curiosity plain on her face.

"So you really slept with someone there?" she asked, her tone both surprised and teasing.

"To be honest, I don't remember anything," I admitted, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "I woke up in a hotel room... naked." My voice faltered as I glanced away, embarrassed.

Maki's mouth fell open slightly, but she quickly shut it, waving her hands in front of her face, still gloved in transparent plastic. "You're mad!" she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Hey, I'm being honest, and now you're calling me mad?" I pouted slightly.

"I just feel bad for whoever your partner was," she said with a sly smile. "Someone that inexperienced must have been a real handful."

I shot her a glare, trying to stay serious. "Anyway, I left straight away. I didn't even get his name, and I doubt we'll see each other again."

Maki sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. "Hoshino, I just don't want you getting into trouble. I've known you for nearly five years, and I've done my best to protect you from men who only approached you because you're cute. And now this? You've gone and had sex without even telling me first!"

I took a deep breath and smiled faintly. Maki was my closest friend, more like a second mum sometimes. She always meant well, even if she had a flair for drama.

Before I could reply, the shop door opened, and the sound of a bell chiming echoed through the room. Quickly removing my gloves, I stepped out to greet the customer.

"Welcome! How can I help you?" I said with a cheerful smile.

The man standing there gave me a strange look. I hesitated, unsure of what to do, then snapped my fingers lightly in front of his face. "Sir, are you all right?"

He blinked and snapped out of his daze. "Could you wrap this cake for me?" he said, his deep voice catching me off guard.

"Hoshino!" Maki shouted in my ear, jolting me back to focus.

"Yes! I'll get it ready right away, sir." I hurried to box the cake he'd pointed out. "Would you like me to write a message on the cake?" I asked, glancing up at him. He met my gaze with sharp, intense eyes.

"No need. Just leave it as it is," he replied, his eyes lingering on me as I worked.

It was a chocolate cake with vanilla layers and a touch of chilli powder—one I'd baked just the day before. Once it was ready, the man moved to the till where Maki handled the transaction.

"That'll be 2,750 yen," Maki said, taking the ten-thousand-yen bill he handed her. She returned the change and receipt, but the man didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stood there, his gaze fixed on the kitchen behind her.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" Maki asked, her voice laced with confusion.

"No, thank you," he said at last, taking the bag with his order and leaving.

Maki shrugged and joined me in the kitchen. "That was a bit odd, don't you think?" she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, busying myself with some bread dough.

"Well, he paid and then just stood there, staring at the kitchen like he'd seen a ghost."

"Maybe he just liked the smell of the bread I was baking," I replied, trying to brush it off.

"A tall, handsome man in a suit coming to a cake shop this early?" Maki pressed. "That's not something you see every day."

"Maybe he's hungry or picking something up for someone special," I said nonchalantly.

"Then why were you staring at him like that earlier?" Maki asked, narrowing her eyes.

I stopped kneading the dough for a moment, rolling my eyes. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated, unconvinced.

"I mean, he had a really hypnotic voice," I admitted, though my tone was casual as I moved to check on some freshly baked bread.

Maki followed me, not letting up. "I'm sorry, I still don't get it. What do you mean by 'hypnotic'?"

I turned and gave her a light flick on the forehead. "Get back to work!" I teased, grinning.

Maki pouted, clearly not satisfied with my response. She eventually returned to her station, muttering to herself. But even as I tried to focus on my tasks, I couldn't shake the strange familiarity of the man's voice. It lingered in my mind, almost like a melody I couldn't forget. Maybe I was still tired from everything that happened last night.

Or maybe... it was something else.

.

.

.

"Are you all right, Hoshino?" Maki called out, her voice tinged with concern, as I disappeared into the toilet for the fifth time that day.

"I'm fine," I replied weakly from behind the door.

"Have you been skipping meals again?" she asked when I finally emerged. Before I could respond, she gently guided me to sit down.

I shook my head quickly. "No, it's not that. For the past few weeks, I've been feeling nauseous and unwell. I can't even sleep properly at night." I took a sip of the water she had prepared, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

"Have you been to the doctor?" she pressed, sitting beside me with her usual no-nonsense tone.

I shook my head again, but before I could explain, a whiff of Maki's perfume made my stomach churn. Clapping a hand over my mouth, I bolted back to the toilet.

"Have you changed your perfume, Maki?" I called out between gulps of fresh air.

"You're saying my perfume's making you sick?" she shouted from outside, clearly unimpressed.

When I returned, dabbing at my mouth with a handkerchief, I tried to look as innocent as possible. Maki, however, wasn't having it.

"That's it. You're going to the doctor," she declared, grabbing my arm and marching me out of the shop.

It was Sunday, luckily, and the shop was closed. Maki didn't just work there—she lived on the second floor. She'd always said it was far more convenient than renting a separate flat, and honestly, I agreed. She'd even tried to convince me to move in with her once, but I'd declined immediately.

What would the neighbours say if an unmarried man and woman lived under the same roof? Besides, Maki already had a fiancé. It would've been impossible to explain my presence to him, not to mention utterly awkward. Instead, I'd found myself a small flat nearby. The rent was cheap, and while it wasn't exactly luxurious, it suited me well enough.

Still, as Maki practically dragged me down the road, I couldn't help but feel grateful for her stubbornness. She always looked out for me, even when I didn't think I needed it.

***

"I'll wait for you outside. Go on in," Maki said, giving me a gentle shove into the room after my number was called.

"Good morning, Shirayuki-san. What brings you in today?" the doctor asked. She looked young, perhaps only a few years older than me.

"For the past few weeks, I've been feeling nauseous in a way I've never experienced before, Doctor," I replied, sitting down nervously.

The doctor nodded, jotting something down in her notebook. "Is it worse in the mornings, or does it happen all the time?" she asked.

"All the time, but it's much worse in the mornings," I sighed, my thoughts drifting back to the endless bouts of vomiting that had left me drained.

The doctor paused, her pen resting against her lip in thought. "All right," she said after a moment, gesturing for me to follow her into another room.

Maki, who had been peering through the window, looked perplexed as I left with the doctor.

"Please lie down and lift your shirt slightly," the doctor instructed, taking out a stethoscope. She placed it on my stomach, her face focused as she listened carefully.

Once she finished, she set the stethoscope aside and reached for another machine. It wasn't until she wheeled out an ultrasound that I realised something was amiss. My eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time that this wasn't a general practitioner's office—it was a gynaecologist's.

"Um, Doctor? Why are we in an obstetrician's room?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled kindly but didn't answer. Instead, she prepared the ultrasound machine, squeezing a cold gel onto my stomach. She moved the probe gently over my abdomen, her gaze fixed on the monitor.

After a few moments, she smiled again and said, "You're pregnant, Shirayuki-san."

I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "P-Pregnant?" I echoed, my voice barely audible.

She nodded. "Yes, about five weeks along. It appears you have a rare genetic condition—one that allowed the development of a uterus and ovaries in your body. It's unusual, but not impossible."

Her words felt like a distant echo as I lay there, paralysed. My mind was spinning, unable to process what I was hearing.

"I... I need to go home," I stammered, sitting up abruptly and pulling my shirt down. My hands trembled as I tried to avoid her gaze.

The doctor nodded gently. "If you have any concerns or unusual symptoms, don't hesitate to come back. I'm here to help you, Shirayuki-san."

I nodded vaguely and stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

"Hoshino? What did the doctor say?" Maki asked, meeting me in the corridor. Her smile faded when she saw my tear-streaked face.

"Nothing. Let's go home," I replied flatly, trying to walk past her, but Maki grabbed my hand.

"Hoshino...?" she asked again, her eyes full of concern.

"Pregnant. That's what they said," I whispered, tears falling freely now. I didn't sob; I didn't even feel anything. Just a hollow, aching emptiness.

Maki gasped, but instead of bombarding me with questions, she pulled me into a firm hug.

"This is the first time I've ever seen you cry," she whispered, stroking my back gently.

"You must think I'm awful," I muttered, my voice cracking. "You know I'm gay. And yet... I can get pregnant."

Maki pulled back slightly and patted my head affectionately. "Hoshino, you're still my best friend. Don't ever forget that."

Her words were simple, but they reached deep into the storm of emotions inside me, calming me ever so slightly. I took a deep, shaky breath, clinging to the quiet reassurance of her presence.

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