Chapter 2 : First Notes

I'm six months old now.

I lie on my back, looking up at Mama as she leans over me with that familiar smile—the one that always makes me feel safe. I reach out, slowly, my hands still shaky and unsure. One of them brushes against her cheek.

It's soft... warm... and somehow feels like home.

Mama gasps quietly.

"Oh... Hideki," she whispers, her voice like a melody I've heard since my first breath.

I reach up again, more certain this time. My tiny fingers rest on her face, and she leans in close, gently rubbing her nose against mine.

A quiet nuzzle. A shared breath.

I don't have the words for it yet, but I feel it in my chest—this moment means something.

I hear a soft click.

Papa's standing in the doorway, holding his camera. He doesn't say a word, just smiles like he's witnessing something precious.

And maybe he is.

Because even if I'm too little to speak, my heart already knows:

This is love.

And I'm safe here.

I'm lying on my soft futon mattress, the faint scent of fresh tatami mingling with the sunlight slipping through the shoji screens around me. The world feels warm and gentle.

Mama kneels beside me, her smile soft as spring, and begins to sing:

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star..."

Her voice wraps around me like a blanket. I freeze—not from fear, but from wonder. My eyes widen. My breath slows. Every part of me listens.

And then, slowly, I begin to coo again. Not randomly this time—but slower... steadier... like I'm trying to follow her.

I don't know what this is, not fully. But I feel something.

A rhythm. A connection.

A song that means something more than just sound.

Mama smiles wider, brushing a hand gently through my hair.

"You really love music, don't you, Hideki?" she whispers.

I don't have words yet—but if I did, I'd tell her:

Yes.

With all of me—yes.

Another month has passed.

I'm lying on the soft floor mat in our home. The light from the window is warm, and just in front of me—almost close enough to touch—is my favorite plush shiba inu toy.

It's... just out of reach.

I grunt softly. My muscles tighten. My arms push. My hips twist.

And then—

I move.

I roll!

Suddenly, I'm on my tummy. The world looks different from here. I blink, surprised by what just happened. Did I... do that?

Before I can figure it out, I hear them.

"He did it! Hideki rolled over!"

Mama's clapping, laughing with her whole heart. Papa's rushing to grab the camera again, his voice full of amazement.

"You're getting stronger every day!" Mama says, her hands gently patting the mat beside me.

I don't quite know what I did—but I know I liked it.

Something inside me glows.

I smile.

I beam.

Because even if I don't understand the words yet... I feel them.

They're proud of me.

And I'm proud of me too.

I'm sitting on my soft play mat, still full of energy from my earlier singing adventure. My heart feels light—like a song still bouncing inside me.

Mama kneels beside me, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Clap, clap, clap! Yay, Hideki!" she says, clapping her hands slowly.

I watch her hands carefully. Up... down... together.

My own hands twitch. I lift them.

Slap!

They hit my belly.

I blink. That's not quite it.

I try again.

This time—smack!

My hands meet in the middle. A sound! A real sound!

A baby clap.

Mama gasps. "He's clapping! He's really clapping!"

Papa laughs from across the room, fumbling with his phone.

"He's gonna be a performer!"

Their joy spills over me like sunlight.

I giggle—then clap again. And again. And again.

Every sound feels like magic. Every cheer feels like love.

I don't understand it all yet,

but I've just found a new way to speak...

and it might be my favorite so far.

I'm playing on my mat near the low wooden table in our home. My plush shiba inu sits right at the edge—just far enough to taunt me.

I want it.

I reach out, grab the table leg with both hands, and pull.

My arms shake. My knees wobble.

The floor feels far away all of a sudden.

Then—with one final grunt—I push off the ground...

And I stand!

Wobbly. Bowlegged. Wide-eyed.

But I'm standing!

"Mama!" I want to shout, but all that comes out is a delighted squeal.

Mama does it for me.

"Hideki! You're standing! He's standing!"

Papa appears like magic, camera already in hand. I glance at him proudly, swaying a little.

Then—plop! I land back on my diapered bottom, giggling like the world just gave me a medal.

And maybe it did.

Because I stood. I stood.

And everyone saw it.

And everyone felt it.

Another note added to the song of my heart.

I'm eleven months old now.

I sit on my play mat, legs tucked beneath me, my plush Shiba Inu toy resting in my lap. Its little embroidered smile always makes me feel calm.

Mama sits close, her eyes filled with warmth and something else—hope. That soft, familiar tone returns in her voice.

"Ma... ma..."

"Can you say it, Hideki? Ma-ma?"

I blink at her.

Her lips move slowly, and the sound echoes in my ears. I open my mouth, unsure if it'll come out right.

"...Ma... ma..."

And then, something deep inside me rises—like a light turning on.

"Ma... MAMA!"

The whole room seems to stop.

Mama gasps. Her hands fly to her mouth, and her eyes fill with tears.

"Hideki! You said Mama! That was Mama!"

Before I can take another breath, she scoops me into her arms, holding me tight. I feel her heartbeat thudding against my chest—fast and full.

From the kitchen, I hear Papa yell, "Wait—did I miss it?!"

He rushes in, still holding a spoon, wide-eyed. I laugh, loud and giddy.

Because they're laughing.

Because Mama's crying happy tears.

Because I said something—and it mattered.

It may just be one word... but it feels like a whole song bursting out of me.

And I sang it for her.

"Mama.

Not long after, I try again.

This time, Papa is in front of me. He's crouched low, grinning like always.

"Da-da," he says slowly, tapping his chest. "Can you try that, bud? Pa-pa?"

I tilt my head. My mouth opens.

"Ba... ba... Pa-pa!"

Papa freezes.

Mama, who's nearby, gasps. "Did he just say Pa-pa?"

Papa's eyes go wide. "Hideki... that was it. That was your first real sound for me."

I babble again, louder and more confident now.

"Ba-ba-Pa-pa!"

They both burst into laughter, clapping and cheering.

Papa grabs his phone. Mama rushes to kneel beside me.

I giggle. I clap. I say it again—over and over—because the joy in their eyes feels like sunlight on my skin.

These aren't just baby noises anymore.

They're mine.

They're my voice.

Little notes in the growing song of my heart.

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