Chapter Text
So his life starts like this:
A woman isn’t screaming. Her throat is sore, and her face is red, and everything is going not according to plan, but there is no time to contemplate that now, or ever, really, because everything there is is now, and right now, she needs to breathe and do as the trembling voice just out of reach tells her to, needs to trust the voice that is so uncertain, because there is nothing else she can do.
A man is talking. He isn’t sure if what he’s saying is right, if it is helpful, if he isn’t doing everything wrong, but he can’t allow himself to think that way, not right now. Not ever. Because it is his job to be calm, even when he is not. He can’t be. He needs to be. His voice is shaking and so are his hands, and this isn’t how they had thought it would be, but then again, nothing ever is, ever has been.
They’re very high above the water, above the world, and they’d joked about this happening, and they should’ve known that it would.
They really should have.
The universe has liked playing tricks on them for as long as it has existed.
A lemur chitters.
The wind is cold.
It’s early spring.
And then, just like that, from one moment, aching and loud, to the other, not so different at all, there’s a new voice, no more than a whisper, a quiet whimper, and it belongs to a boy with dark hair and pale skin who they decide to name Bumi.
Not right this second, though.
Right now, his father stares down at him in wonder, and his mother closes her eyes, and they breathe, and he whines, held by hands that will forever have his back. A few terrifying hours have gone by, and they’re not forgotten forever, but they are forgotten for now, for just this moment.
“Wow”, the man says.
“Yeah”, the woman sighs.
Bumi Beifong is born on a bison’s back.
It’s not the worst start in life, all things considered.
