The hum of laughter and clinking glasses filled the house as Ren's eighteenth birthday party buzzed downstairs. Balloons bobbed in the corners, and the scent of cake lingered in the air. But in the quiet of the upstairs hallway, Misa and Kyouka stood huddled together, far from the festive chaos.
Misa clutched a piece of paper, her lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes scanned the official government letter for the third time. Kyouka, the older sister, leaned over her shoulder, her brows furrowed.
"What's got you so upset, mother?" Kyouka asked, her voice low to avoid drawing attention from the party below.
Misa's fingers tightened around the paper, crinkling its edges. "It's about Ren," she said, her tone heavy with irritation. "The government sent this today. They're requesting he enroll in the milking process."
Kyouka's eyes widened. "The milking process? Already?" She snatched the letter from Misa's hands, scanning the formal text. Her expression darkened as she read the cold, bureaucratic words: As per Regulation 47-B, all males reaching the age of eighteen are required to participate in the National Reproductive Program to ensure the continuation of the population.
"This is ridiculous," Kyouka muttered, shoving the paper back at Misa. "He's barely an adult, and they're already after him?"
Misa sighed, folding the letter and tucking it into her pocket. "It's the way things are now, Kyouka. You know that. Only twenty percent of the population is male. Most births happen through artificial insemination because single women can't find partners. Only ten percent of women end up with boyfriends or husbands."
Kyouka crossed her arms, her face a mix of anger and disbelief. "Ten percent? That's it?"
Misa nodded grimly. "Yeah. And even for those who do marry, it doesn't change much. Married men still have to donate sperm to the program. It's mandatory. The government doesn't care if you're married or not—it's all about keeping the population stable."
Kyouka's jaw tightened. "So, what? They're just going to let some stranger hook Ren up to a machine and… take his sperm? He's my little brother, Mother! We can't let that happen!"
Misa's expression softened, but her eyes were resolute. "I know, Kyouka. I work at the hospital, remember? I've seen how it works. It's not… it's not a person doing it. It's a machine now. Cold, clinical, efficient. But still…" She trailed off, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can't stand the thought of Ren going through that either."
Misa looked at the letter with a sigh. "Do you know how they get men aroused for this process? Since most men don't get erect easily, they inject medicine to make them hard."
Kyouka paced a few steps, her hands running through her hair. "I can't let my brother go through something like that. What are we supposed to do? If he doesn't comply, they'll slap criminal charges on him. You know how strict they are about this. They don't mess around."
Misa leaned against the wall, her mind racing. She'd been dreading this moment ever since Ren's birthday loomed closer. The letter had only confirmed her worst fears. But she'd also done her research, looking for any loophole, any way to protect her son. Her voice was steady when she spoke again. "There's an option. Something married couples use."
Kyouka stopped pacing and turned to her, eyes narrowing. "What option?"
Misa hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "In married couples, the wife can collect the… sample… and submit it to the hospital. It's completely legal. They don't care how the sample is collected, as long as it meets their standards and gets delivered."
Kyouka's mouth dropped open, her face flushing a faint pink. "Wait. You're saying one of us would have to—" She cut herself off, her voice rising in disbelief. "That's insane, Mother! He's your son and my brother !"
Misa raised her hands, trying to calm her daughter down. "I know, I know! I'm not saying it's ideal. But it's better than letting him go to some sterile facility where he's just another number. At least this way, it's… personal. Controlled. We can protect him."
Kyouka's cheeks were now a deeper shade of red, her eyes wide with shock. "Protect him? By doing that? Mother, I'm his sister! That's… that's just wrong!"
Misa's expression hardened, though her voice remained gentle. "I get it, Kyouka. I do. That's why I'm not asking you to do it." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I'll do it."
Kyouka froze, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words. "You… you're serious? You're actually going to—?"
"Yes," Misa said firmly, cutting her off. "I work in the medical field. I know how to handle this professionally. It doesn't have to be weird. I'll make sure it's not awkward for Ren. He's my cute son too, and I'm not letting some machine or stranger put him through that."
Kyouka stared at her, still wide-eyed, her face a mix of shock and reluctant admiration. "You're insane," she muttered, but there was no venom in her words. She rubbed her temples, trying to process everything. "Okay, fine. But… you have to keep this a secret from Hiyori also be professional about it. If Ren gets any weird ideas..."
"I know," Misa interrupted, her voice steady. "I'll handle it properly. I won't let it get awkward, and I won't let Ren feel uncomfortable. You just have to trust me."
Kyouka let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. "I do trust you. I just… this whole thing is so messed up. I hate that we even have to think about this."
Misa reached out, placing a hand on her daughter's arm. "I know. I hate it too. But we're doing this for Ren. To keep him safe. To keep him ours."
Kyouka nodded slowly, her expression softening. "Yeah. Okay. Just… be careful, Mother."
Misa gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I've got this."
The sister and mother pair stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision settling over them. The muffled sounds of the party drifted up from downstairs—Ren's laughter, the chatter of Hiyori, the clink of soda cans. It felt like a different world, one where they didn't have to make impossible choices to protect their brother.
Kyouka broke the silence, her voice quieter now. "Do you think he'll be okay? I mean… with all of this?"
Misa's gaze softened as she thought of Ren—his bright smile, his carefree nature. "He'll be fine," she said, more to herself than to Kyouka. "We'll make sure of it."
Kyouka nodded, though her expression was still troubled. "What do we tell him? About the letter, I mean."
Misa chewed her lip, thinking. "For now, nothing. Let him enjoy his birthday. I'll talk to him later, explain it in a way that doesn't freak him out. I'll tell him it's just a formality, something we'll handle as a family."
Kyouka raised an eyebrow. "You think he'll buy that?"
"He's Ren," Misa said with a small laugh. "He trusts us. As long as we don't make a big deal out of it, he won't either."
Kyouka sighed, running a hand through her hair again. "I hope you're right. I just… I wish things were different. I wish he didn't have to deal with this at all."
Misa's smile faded, and she nodded. "Me too. But this is the world we live in. We can't change it, but we can protect him from the worst of it."
Kyouka looked at her mother's, her expression a mix of gratitude and worry. "You're stronger than I am, mother? I don't think I could do what you're planning."
Misa shook her head. "You're plenty strong, Kyouka. You're here, aren't you? Sneaking out of a party to figure this out with me. That's what family does."