“Megumi, shut up for one second...” Toji sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance—he was desperate, practically pleading for the young infant to silence his cries. “I’m not fucking good at this shit.”

The infants loud wails resounded throughout the small apartment, and it took everything Toji had not to light a fuse. Muttering out a string of curses while haphazardly stuffing diapers into a bag, nearly forgetting to grab the bottle filled with formula and a flask with hot water.

Megumi was eight months old, and like every other child, he needed his vaccines. Toji had to be the one to take him, which left Megumi sitting against his chest while Toji tried to adjust the carrier he was wearing. The baby kept sliding down, wiggling to adjust himself yet remaining uncomfortable. “Megumi, stop moving,” Toji sighed.

The baby stopped his small legs from kicking and just laid limp, his body sliding down, down, down with every movement Toji made, his whines never subsiding. “Stop fussing over the carrier...” Megumi had every right to be fussy—the eight month old was slipping because of how clumsy the carrier had been put on. “‘Kay, let’s go get your shots.”

The walk to the clinic was definitely frustrating, especially with the way he had to hold onto Megumi and his bag. Once at the clinic, his gaze swept over the space. Several children, at least three or four years of age, playing at the playground section in the corner. Toji averted his gaze to the other side of the building where parents sat on their phones or read a magazine, their child by their side.

Toji sauntered over to the front desk, “Um... I made an appointment for a vaccine shot today.” He squeezed Megumi’s foot lightly, the infant letting out a small whine at the feeling.