Jinyoung Park wants them to fly across the goddamned country. That's how Tzuyu delivers the news to her. Mina winces at her words. Not that she is shocked or offended by her near-constant profanity; she merely wishes she would curb her tongue when Chaeyoung is in her presence, which seems to be more and more often lately. Today there is no real discernible reason for Chaeyoung to be perched on Tzuyu's lap. Unsolicited, She asked Mina if she wanted to work without interruption while revising and fact-checking her presentation to JYtech's senior executives.

She has learned her lesson, it seems; she removed her tie before asking Mina if she could take Chaeyoung off her hands.

"How long will you be at JYtech?" she asks, pulling out her phone to see which of her appointments will need to be rescheduled.

"A week," Tzuyu replies. "Maybe ten days. Depends on how negotiations with that pr— with Jinyoung go."

"Pick!" Chaeyoung squeals.

Mina narrows her eyes at her boss. "Did she just call Jinyoung Park a prick?"

"Pick!" the baby repeats.

"I distinctly heard 'pick,'" Tzuyu says, wrapping one arm around Chaeyoung to steady her in her lap as she smacks a paperweight against the desk. She smoothly removes the glass globe from the baby's hand and leans in close to her. "He's such a prick, isn't he?" She murmurs.

Chaeyoung giggles in response.

"Tzuyu, did you teach my daughter to curse?" Mina's voice raises a notch, just enough from her usual calm monotone that she knows for certain that she's angry with her.

So She smirks at her. "I didn't teach her. She must have picked it up. She's a bright one."

Mina scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Come on."

"Just like her mother."

"Flattery isn't going to make this okay."

"Okay, so how's this? You're coming with me on this business trip."

"Seriously? Wait, you were thinking of bringing me along anyway. I have access to your calendar. You made a note of this."

She shrugs. "You got me."

Three weeks later Mina meets Tzuyu at the airport with Chaeyoung in tow and a thousand apologies on her lips: the friend she'd roped into babysitting was called out of town on a last-minute business trip, Sana's father threw out his back and can't chase after a crawling baby, her neighbor is working night shift this week. Chaeyoung whimpers fitfully in her stroller. Sweat drips down Mina's forehead from struggling with the bulky carriage.

A flush burns high on her cheeks as she huffs and puffs her reasons for bringing Chaeyoung along, running out of breath as she details them all.

"Don't worry about it," Tzuyu says, waving her excuses away with one hand. Her voice is gruff, but is quirked into a half-smile. "Do you want me to hold Chaeyoung while you get something to eat?"

"Yeah, sure," she answers in two halting syllables. A small part of her is still wary, unsure why Tzuyu would volunteer so freely. Mina has noticed the evolution of Tzuyu's feelings toward the baby: she has started using her name instead of just calling her "the baby" or "that."

In the last few weeks She has dropped hints like anvils, saying that She wouldn't mind watching Chaeyoung in her office while Mina copied Tzuyu's graphs and tables and placed them neatly into binders. She has twice caught her smelling the soft black hair at the crown of the baby's head, twice stepped back out of her office to try to calm her suddenly ragged breathing.

The less she thinks about how much Chaeyoung seems to talk about her, the better.

It should be a victorious moment for her, realizing that her child has managed to soften Tzuyu, but she feels strangely off balance, as though her boss' change of heart is simply a ploy, a misdirect. The way She treats Chaeyoung is too close to the way she always imagined Sana would, if Sana had felt something besides paralyzing terror or existential dread around her own daughter. (She did, she corrects herself, but only occasionally.) Whenever her mind starts to drift, whenever she sees glimpses of a Father in Tzuyu, she tries to think about something else. Sana is Chaeyoung's Father, she tells herself, and She will return someday to act like it. She hopes.

Mina chooses not to gloat or fret in case Tzuyu will cease her behavior once she calls attention to it. She likes this seeming equilibrium, emotionally destabilizing as it is, so she handles it delicately, but allows herself a private victorious smile as she walks toward a Starbucks kiosk.

When she returns, iced coffee and egg white wrap in hand, Chaeyoung is curled up in the crook of Tzuyu's arm, thumb in mouth, watching her work. The baby doesn't stir, doesn't even look up when her mother returns, and neither does Tzuyu. It makes Mina frown a little, but she is relieved to be able to eat a meal without having to balance her child on her lap at the same time.

When they are finally called to board, Tzuyu offers to take the stroller while Mina carries Chaeyoung. ("It's so we can get on before everyone else," She says while she considers her answer.) As they pass through the gate, an attendant wishes Mr. and Mrs. Chou a safe flight.

It is funny then. They laugh about it as they board the plane, then again when their stewardess tells Tzuyu that Chaeyoung has her eyes.

"She must be colorblind," She mutters after the stewardess hands her,  her hot tea and moves on to the next row.

It is much less funny when the chauffeur from the car service thinks they are a family, and downright unbearable when the concierge at the hotel offers them a free suite upgrade from the adjoining rooms that Mina booked. She opens to object but is cut off by Tzuyu's elbow jabbing into her ribcage.

"The hell was that for?" she hisses when the concierge leaves the desk to confirm the upgrade with her manager.

"Don't let your pride stand in the way of getting a suite upgrade."

"They think we're married, Tzuyu."

"So what? That doesn't make us married. If I tell you I'm a unicorn, does that make me a ing unicorn?" Mina glares at her. "Look, I've stayed in the suites before. They're huge. We'll have separate rooms. Don't worry about it."

She sighs. "Fine."

"Everything okay?" the concierge asks as she returns to the desk.

"My wife's just tired from the flight. The baby was fussing the whole time." Tzuyu gestures at Chaeyoung, asleep in her stroller. "Thankfully she passed out once we got in the car." That last part is true, at least. Chaeyoung is out cold, having somehow slept through the usually arduous process of getting her out of one seat and into another. Mina hopes her slumber will last long enough to get some sleep herself once they get to the room.

"Aww. How old is she?" the concierge coos.

"Ten months," Mina offers.

"She'll be walking any day now! My son is fourteen months and he was already running into walls when he was her age."

"I'm not looking forward to it. Nothing is safe." Mina smiles wanly. "She can already be a handful."

"Is she your first?" She nods in assent; the concierge beams. "It's a lot of work, but it's also a lot of fun." She hands Tzuyu a pair of key cards. "You're in room 627, Mr. and Mrs. Chou."

"Your wife?" Mina asks sarcastically as they get in the elevator, crammed in with their suitcases and Chaeyoung's stroller. Tzuyu's shoulder brushes softly against her arm as they travel up to the sixth floor, crammed together in the little box.

"You wish," She scoffs.

She smirks at her. "I'd rather lose my right arm."

The suite is sumptuous enough that once Mina steps inside she is speechless, unable to complain further about their temporary ruse. A nondescript beige door opens up into an enormous living room decorated in grays and blues, with another jumble of overstuffed chairs and couches on the far side of the room. Beyond that is a kitchenette with a sink, small refrigerator, and microwave. There are a few doorways that presumably lead to their bedrooms and the bathroom, and a glass sliding door that leads to a small terrace.

"I'll take this room," Tzuyu says, gesturing toward a doorway next to the second living room. "You can call down to the front desk to get a crib or something. We're sharing a bathroom." Without another word, She grabs her wheeled suitcase and leaves her, closing the door to her room behind her.

Mina is not sure what she expected from a business trip, but it is not this. Their days are longer now than in the office; Tzuyu rises at 5:00, does half an hour of yoga, showers, and is well into her work by the time Mina wakes up at 6:30. They work until Chaeyoung is due at the hotel's daycare at 8, then they both take a hired car to JYtech's campus on the outskirts of the city and spend half the day in meetings and the other half reviewing paperwork in a conference room that serves as their makeshift office.

 Tzuyu spends so much time looking at computer screens and thick corporate ledgers that the usual circles under her eyes deepen until they look like bruises. If they're lucky, they get to sleep before midnight. Most days they are not.

She hates it but says nothing. She keeps her head down and she works, because that is what she is paid to do. She tries not to think about Chaeyoung, whether she will start shrieking at the daycare, unused to spending so much time away from her mother. Instead Mina focuses on Tzuyu, who talks aloud to herself and paces as she reads over a software licensing agreement, occasionally pausing in her stream of consciousness to bark numbers at Mina, who dutifully punches them into a calculator. When her patter slows to a stop, her words appearing as though by accident between longer and longer pauses, she slams her hand against the long table in the conference room and lets out an extensive string of swears.

"What's wrong?" Mina asks calmly. "What happened?".

"I'm going ing cross-eyed. I can't look at any more numbers. They've stopped making sense." Tzuyu rubs her eyes, blinks a few times, rubs them again. The soft blue-purples beneath her eyes fade into angry red as she presses her fingertips against her skin.

"I think that's your mind's way of saying it's time for a break," she says.

"I can't take a break. Jinyoung wants more ing information about the ing... I don't even know anymore." She sighs, then collapses into one of the chairs that surround the table.

Mina puts down the calculator, then gets up and takes the papers from Tzuyu's hand. "Go back to the hotel. Lie down. Put on some stupid television show. I'll pack everything up and get something to eat."

"Are you my mom?" She asks.

"Really?" she snaps, then softens her tone. After all, she is still her boss. "This is exactly why you need a break."

Tzuyu sighs. "You're right. Get me a burger. Greasiest, tiest thing on the menu. Fries. No, cheese fries."

"And a milkshake?" she asks with a smile.

She lets out a low snort, a distant cousin of laughter. "Good idea. Surprise me."

Mina pulls out her phone and takes some notes on her order. "I've never seen you eat junk before."

"I feel like I'm due for a good stress-eat." She gathers up her things and walks to the door, lingers there for a moment. "Thank you, Mina," she says, her voice almost a murmur. Then she is gone.

When she gets back to the hotel room, carrying Chaeyoung and grease-stained paper bag full of food, Mina can hear Tzuyu snoring as soon as she walks in the door. She puts Chaeyoung down and places Tzuyu's dinner in the fridge, then goes to check on her boss. She is in her room, sprawled prone, one of her feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Mina goes back to find her phone, takes a picture of the sight (finding particular humor in the sight of one perfectly polished wingtip threatening to fall off her foot), then closes the door to let her sleep.

Tzuyu wakes at five the next morning and is so famished that she eats the burger and fries while standing in front of the refrigerator, and guzzles the half-melted chocolate milkshake like it is mana from heaven.

On the sixth day of their trip, they sit through an eight-hour shareholders' meeting during which Tzuyu has to listen to people threaten doom and gloom in the event that Park purchases JYtech. She does not have it in her to offer rebuttals to the individual remarks, not even after her third double espresso of the day. At the end of the shareholders' allotted time she stands up, grips the back of her chair to stay her caffeine-jittering hands, and tells everyone exactly how much money Park expects to pay for JYtech, down to the cent.

"We expect to quadruple that value within five years with respect to the company's worth and, therefore, your dividends," She says, glaring from one end of the audience to the other. "And that's if we up completely and mishandle everything. I'm not in the business of ing up, so you can expect a hell of a lot more money than that."

When the shareholders vote, the acquisition goes through nearly unanimously. Mina watches it all from the back of the room, smiling to herself as Tzuyu, once again, pulls off something that seemed impossible several hours earlier. As the shareholders disperse, Mina feels her phone vibrate in her pocket and steps outside to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Mrs. Minatozaki? Chaeyoung Minatozaki's mother?"

"Ms. Myoui," she corrects the caller.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Myoui. It's Jennie from the day care. Chaeyoung's been crying for you for a little while now and won't stop. Is there any way you could pick her up?"

"Did you put her down for a nap? Feed her?" Mina asks. She winces at her tone, her high-pitched anxiety.

"Did all that and checked her diaper. She's fine. Separation anxiety is typical for children her age but we do recommend that the parents try to pick up their child if possible."

She sighs. "Is she still... welcome there?"

"Of course," Jennie chirps. "She's been great, aside from today."

"I can be there in fifteen minutes," she says, then says goodbye and hangs up. Mina pushes her way to the front of the room, dodging suit-clad businessmen, and grabs Tzuyu's sleeve before she can start chatting with one of Jinyoung's executives.

"There's a party after this. We should celebrate," Tzuyu says. "I definitely need a