BNHA: Force Within

The April morning started like any other. Megumi had insisted on working until her due date, despite her family's protests. She was organizing patient files at the nurses' station when the first real contraction hit, strong enough to make her grip the edge of the desk.
Yui noticed immediately. "Was that what I think it was?"
"Probably nothing," Megumi said, trying to sound casual. "Just the usual—" She stopped as another wave of pain rolled through her. This one was different from the practice contractions she'd been having.
Yui was already reaching for the phone. "I'm calling your mother. And Dr. Tanaka."
"I can finish my shift—"
"Absolutely not." Yui guided her to a chair. "You've been taking care of everyone else for nine months. Time to let us take care of you."
Everything moved quickly after that. Within an hour, Megumi found herself in a hospital bed in the maternity ward, watching her mother pace the room while timing contractions on her phone.
"Dad's flight lands in two hours," Megumi said between breaths. "He's going to be so mad if he misses it."
"He won't miss it," her mother assured her. "First babies usually take their time."
But Anakin, it seemed, had other plans. The contractions were getting closer together, and more intense. Megumi gripped the bed rails, all her training as a nurse forgotten in the face of her own labor.
"I can't do this," she gasped. "Mom, I'm not ready."
Her mother wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. "You're already doing it, sweetheart. And you're doing great."

Chiyo arrived next, still in her work clothes from UA. She took one look at her granddaughter and switched into professional mode. "How far apart are the contractions?"
"Four minutes," Megumi's mother answered. "Getting closer."
Dr. Tanaka came in to check her progress. "You're moving along faster than expected. This baby seems eager to meet everyone."
Megumi tried to focus on her breathing techniques, on the encouraging words around her, but the pain was becoming overwhelming. Each contraction felt like it lasted forever.
"Where's Dad?" she asked between pains. "He should be here by now."
As if on cue, Ben Skywalker burst through the door, still carrying his carry-on bag. "I'm here! Did I miss it?"
"Perfect timing," Dr. Tanaka said. "We're just about ready to start pushing."
The next hour was the hardest of Megumi's life. She squeezed her mother's hand so hard she was sure she must have broken something. Her father stood by her other side, looking both terrified and amazed. Chiyo stayed near the doctor, her years of medical experience evident in her calm demeanor.
"One more big push," Dr. Tanaka encouraged. "He's almost here."
Megumi gathered her remaining strength, channeling all the determination that had gotten her through nursing school, through the past nine months, through everything.
And then, suddenly, the room filled with the sound of crying.
"Here he is!" Dr. Tanaka lifted up a squirming, red-faced bundle. "Say hello to your son."
They placed him on her chest, and Megumi forgot everything else – the pain, the exhaustion, the fear. Her son had light blonde hair, matted down from birth, and when he briefly opened his eyes, they were the brightest blue she'd ever seen.
"Anakin," she whispered, touching his tiny cheek. "Hi, baby."
Her mother was crying openly now, and her father wasn't far behind. Chiyo stood back, watching with a proud smile as the nurses went about their post-birth duties.
"Eight pounds, four ounces," one of the nurses announced. "Perfect Apgar scores."
Megumi barely heard them. She was memorizing every detail of her son's face – his button nose, his tiny fingers curled into fists, the way his bottom lip trembled just before letting out another cry.
"He's got quite a set of lungs," her father laughed, wiping his eyes.
"Just like his mother," Chiyo said. "You should have heard Megumi as a baby."
The next few hours passed in a blur of first feedings, vital sign checks, and a steady stream of visitors. Megumi's coworkers from the hospital stopped by with flowers and tiny gifts. Each time someone new held Anakin, Megumi felt a mixture of pride and protectiveness she'd never experienced before.
As evening fell, the room finally quieted. Her parents had gone to get dinner, and Chiyo had left to handle some paperwork. Megumi sat in the hospital bed, holding her sleeping son, watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky in shades of pink and gold.
"You know," she said softly to Anakin, "I was so scared when I found out about you. I didn't think I could do this. But looking at you now..." She touched his tiny hand, marveling when his fingers instinctively curled around hers. "Now I'm just scared in a different way. The good kind of scared. The kind that means something matters more than anything."
Outside her room, she could hear the normal sounds of the hospital – footsteps, distant voices, the squeak of cart wheels. The same sounds she heard every day at work, but now they felt different. Everything felt different.
Her mother returned first, carrying a bag of takeout from Megumi's favorite restaurant. "How are my favorite people doing?"
"We're perfect," Megumi said, and meant it. "Though I think someone's getting hungry again."
As if on cue, Anakin's face scrunched up and he let out a demanding cry. Megumi adjusted him for feeding, movements already becoming more natural with practice.
"You're a natural," her mother said, sitting beside the bed. "Though you might want to reconsider your stance on not wanting help at night."
Megumi laughed. "I take it back. I want all the help. Every bit of it."
Her father returned with coffee, taking up his post in the visitor's chair. Together, they watched the sun set on Anakin's first day, a new family finding its shape in the quiet of a hospital room.