Chapter Text
There’s this thing about children, Levi notices: he can handle them as long as they’re not his own. Which explains why his life is currently in a mess right now.
The baby hasn't stopped crying for ten minutes straight, and Levi is already at the end of his wits after a very long flight. He's tired and upset and ready to have a breakdown. All the stress of handling the court order for Micia's parentage had him up and running for three days straight. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, the frustration sinking deep in his bones.
It feels as if fatherhood has been slammed into his face, hard. And Levi has no choice but to keep himself together.
"Kenny, fucking pick up," he says, voice raspy. He's rocking his daughter gently in one arm while holding the phone to his ear with the other. Levi has no idea if Kenny would know exactly what to do, but he’s hoping that his uncle would have a better experience of taking care of a child.
They're at the lounge inside the airport, waiting for Kenny to arrive and take them home. But the city traffic is at a standstill, according to his uncle’s latest text, and so Levi and Micia are probably stuck there for another hour or so. More travelers pass him by as they come and go—in arrivals and in departures, in tearful reunions and goodbyes. And Micia’s discomfort has her crying like crazy, her mind still unable to adjust to dwell on her new surroundings. Levi really doesn’t have the patience to dwell on this himself, but he knows he’ll have to learn this sooner or later, something about babies and the way their minds work when places shift and faces are new.
And now his daughter's cries have reached an all-time high. She's wailing desperately, and no amount of shushing, nor cradling, nor pleading from him would shut her up. A security officer patrolling the corridors looks at Levi in utter judgment, as if gesturing that a father like him should know how to handle this.
But when Levi shakes the infant harder, Micia’s screams only end up drilling a hole in his ears.
“Please, just stop. Why won’t you stop?” he asks in frustration, as if his five-month-old child would know how to respond.
“Have you tried feeding your kid?” someone asks.
Levi looks to his side and sees a stranger a seat away from him. Said person has an open book on their lap, looking curious, concerned.
"Usually babies would seek attention if they're feeling some sort of discomfort,” they explain.
He hasn't really thought about that, really. Levi's pretty new to this single-dad thing, not that this stranger knows. "She's not so keen on formula milk," he says.
"Maybe she'll take it for now."
Levi prepares the bottle and shoves it unceremoniously into Micia's mouth. He means well, really, but the infant has enough strength to push it away and cry her heart out even louder.
"Micia, please," he sighs in defeat.
"When was the last time you changed her diaper?"
"Less than an hour ago."
"Maybe a lullaby would help?"
He wasn't going to sing, not for all the tea in the world. “Not a chance. I already gave up on that."
The stranger seems to be thinking, picking their bottom lip with their fingers.
"In that case… may I?" Just as the person says this, they close the book that they’ve been reading and reach out to him with palms up.
Levi’s suspicious at first. “Why?”
The person can see the distrust in his frown. “I just want to help!”
Micia's high-pitched cries have become frantic at this point. He starts shushing his daughter once again, but to no luck. If this keeps up, his daughter’s going to end up with a sore throat from all this bawling.
It would have been unusual for a stranger to ask to hold someone else's child. But Levi is already drop-dead desperate by now, and to be fair, he doesn't really have a single clue on what he's doing. The stranger is still waiting, anticipation building up by the seconds that pass. It's a risk he's willing to take.
He finally considers the offer.
Gently, he hands Micia to them, holding his daughter’s head and letting it settle into the makeshift cradle in their arms—"Be careful," Levi tells them. The person then croons and pulls Micia closer to their chest.
The child squirms at first, unsure about the stranger's touch. But the stranger only smiles at her, tapping a finger on Micia’s leg as if timing the right moment.
“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word …” the stranger sings the classic lullaby, their voice smooth and low. “Baba’s gonna buy you a big big bird…”
"You got the lyrics wrong," he says.
But the person only shushes him with a finger—as if he were the child—and continues, "And if that big big bird don't sing, Baba's gonna buy you a diamond ring…"
Levi’s daughter looks at the stranger with her tiny mouth hanging open, eyes wide and curious. She’s probably wondering who this mysterious person is. Nevertheless, Levi's daughter remains silent, listening to the melody that’s filling her ears.
"And if that diamond ring turns black, Baba's gonna buy you a handheld glass…" The stranger sings the rest of the song, changing some parts of the lyrics, hand tapping the baby's tummy. And now Micia is cooing and babbling, her adorable laughter for everyone to hear. She reaches out her tiny hands towards the person's face and they slowly bend their neck so that Micia can pat her on the cheek.
He has so many questions running through his mind as he eyes this person from head to toe. He doesn’t know where to start, though. For more, he wants to correct them in every word, wants to say that’s enough, but Levi is stunned when he sees Micia yawning, getting lulled to sleep.
There has to be some enchantment going on here, some magic, he thinks. The person is smiling as they sing, affectionate and somewhat trusting with their gestures. Their voice is deep, not quite melodious, but it’s enough to make it work.
It goes on for another few lines or so, the minutes droning on and on, until the stranger finally finishes the lullaby—“And if that cart and bull turned over… Papa's gonna buy you a dog called Buster. ”
The song ends with a chuckle.
"There, you see?" They smile at him. Micia is peacefully sleeping in their arms. The person then carefully hands Micia back to her father.
"Thank you." Even with those words, Levi has never been so grateful for having a stranger come up to him. He’s even more relieved when Micia remains asleep once she settles in his arms once more. It really is a miracle, he thinks. The stranger chuckles once again, and Levi remembers his question. "Why Baba, by the way?"
"I think it sounds cuter, don't you think?” The stranger tucks a stray hair behind their ear. “I've never really subscribed to a single gender, hence that."
"I see.” He understands, but not quite. “So, are you…" Levi doesn't know how to phrase the question. Would they be offended if he asked?
The stranger seems to know what he's thinking. "I’m genderfluid, but I’d still like to go by my feminine instincts, once in a while." They gently tap Micia by the arm, and the child stirs, nuzzling her father’s chest as she sleeps. "I can't blame people if they get confused, but I'm always happy to clarify and explain things to them. And I’m okay with any pronouns, but I think she/her speaks to me the most, so you can use that, if you want."
He gives her a slow nod. "Okay."
It’s not like he’s ever going to talk to her again, is it?
There's an announcement for an onboarding call and the stranger knows it's her time to leave. "I gotta go. Good luck with fatherhood, then! I'm sure you'll do fine." She stands up and slings her bag on her shoulder before waving goodbye to him.
He gives a dismissive wave back, mostly out of exhaustion. Levi watches the TSA officer inspect her passport until the stranger disappears past the terminal gates.
And now Levi is left to his senses.
The relief finally allows him to relax his shoulders. He’s thankful for her kindness, really. Wonders what it would be like if he had more time to get to know her more. But all good things come to an end, he knows this, and he’s just merely grateful that someone has the heart to help him out.
The child squirms in his hold out of a sudden. Micia must have sensed the absence of the stranger. Probably the all-too familiar presence of her father once again. As if on cue, she starts crying once more, leaving her father frustrated for the nth time today.
Levi huffs, knowing his luck has run out this time around. When he fumbles for the milk bottle in the baby bag, he sees that something has been wedged in between the arm and the seat where the stranger had sat. It’s a copy of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. The person was reading it before she came up to them. He whips his head to call after the owner who must have probably forgotten about it. But the stranger had already gone past security and Levi couldn't really run after her, not with a crying baby in tow. He sits down and flips through the brown pages of the book, looking for a clue about this person's identity.
To add to the stress, his daughter is now fidgeting and kicking her tiny legs against the hook of his arm.
"Micia, please—"
A photo falls out and lands on his baby’s tummy.
At the same time, Micia’s cries have come to a complete stop—a miracle he has been asking for all this time.
It’s a graduation picture of the stranger, her youthful face looking back at him as she smiles at the camera in her cap and toga. Levi looks at the wallet-sized portrait and then at his daughter staring at it, completely amused. Can infants recognize someone from memory? Seems like it.
"Shame we won't be meeting again…" he reads the name scribbled behind the photo, "Hange."