Work Text:
Kaoru likes precision. He likes his life to be organised, predictable; rational thought behind every decision. His desire for control extends to every aspect of his life. Or, at least, the aspects of his life that he can control.
In calligraphy, every stroke has a purpose. A line out of place is messy, and he didn’t get his reputation and fortune because of messy. Striving for perfection with calligraphy brings him a sense of calm; where he can be one with the canvas, the brushes, the ink, the words. Each brush stroke an extension of himself, existing in a mindspace where he can be free of the weights of the world.
Skateboarding is just as freeing, but for an entirely different reason. It has the possibility of unpredictability; the board cannot always be controlled, it can fall out from underneath with something as simple as one wrong foot placement. The act of skating relies completely on worldly elements, whatever the weather is or whatever the surface the wheels roll over. But Kaoru loves the challenge of being able to mould skating into what he wants it to be. He irons out the kinks. He’s in the driving seat, and he compels the board to do as he says.
It takes years of practice, equipment alterations, practice, research, and more practice to bring him closer and closer to perfection every time his foot takes its rightful place on his board. Anxieties and stresses float away, carried by the rushing winds passing him by when he’s breezing down the street or on the tracks at S.
And, on top of all of that, he can use artificial intelligence to seek out the perfection he strives for. Endless possibilities, right at his fingertips.
With AI, Kaoru has the opportunity to be better; to have complete power and satisfactory results every time, without fail. It functions based on rational reasoning. Any out of place coding always has a simple fix; there is a logical solution to every problem, a set answer to every possible question. AI has given him a lot over the years, but most notably it has given him Carla.
Carla.
His Carla.
He understands her, and she understands him.
The pride Kaoru feels for creating Carla has always been unparalleled. At least, it always was unparalleled. Kaoru often likened it to what he thought it would be like to be a parent, never considering for a moment that he would become a parent. To a real human child.
And he definitely never considered the possibility that it would happen so suddenly, without a moment to prepare.
His four year old daughter, Yua, was (quite literally) left on the doorstep one night and that was it: his life changed in the most incalculable and inefficient way possible.
Of course, despite the circumstances, it changed for the better. Incredibly so. And, as ridiculously cliché as it is to say, Kaoru fell so deeply in love with Yua from the moment he held her for the first time, and he falls impossibly more in love with each passing day.
It was a completely unconventional way to become a parent, but Kaoru is entirely grateful to have Yua as his daughter. And despite the uncertainty of it, he would not change the way it happened for the world.
But having a child is chaotic; children aren’t logical. They’re unpredictable, uncontrollable, exhausting. Schedules and routines can be planned, but it’s impossible to prepare in advance for any and every situation that could possibly arise where children are involved.
And Kaoru often feels entirely out of his depth with it.
Not least of all because being a parent doesn’t come as naturally to him as it does to his boyfriend.
Kojiro is a patient man. Incredibly understanding, stupidly considerate, never quick to anger; a steadying, immovable force of nature. Kaoru, of course, admires all of those traits (and would never admit it out loud, thank you very much) but that doesn’t stop him from focusing on how seemingly easy parenthood is for Kojiro, and how seemingly not easy it is for himself.
Kaoru’s specialties are in planning, researching, making sure they have everything they need for now and in the future. And Kojiro—well, Kojiro is everything Kaoru is not. He’s the spontaneous, funny, caring, doting father that Kaoru wishes he had growing up. And Kaoru knows, realistically, that’s what Yua will remember about her childhood. Not whether they read the right educational books to her at bedtime, or if she went to the right schools, or if she lived in the right neighbourhood.
Even in the difficult moments, Kojiro was always the one who was quick to act; rectifying any situation before it escalated. When Yua is hurt or upset, Kojiro’s parental instinct kicks in and he involuntarily shoots up to check on her before Kaoru is even able to exhale a breath. Kojiro calms her, soothes her, leaves a splattering of kisses all over her cheeks and tummy; turns tears of sadness into tears of joy.
And that’s why, at this particular moment, Kaoru is feeling more anxious than he ever has when it comes to his parental responsibility.
Kojiro has just left to catch a flight to Tokyo to attend a four day culinary conference.
And, for the first time since Yua was born, Kaoru is left to parent her alone.
It starts okay.
On the first day without Kojiro, Kaoru has to be the one to take Yua to kindergarten in the morning. That was normally always Kojiro’s job, while Kaoru slept in; Kaoru is not a morning person.
But it’s only for a few days, he reasons with himself. He’ll just have to drink more coffee to keep him going during the working day, but that’s fine. It’s fine. They planned this, he knew this was coming.
So, Kaoru sleepily pads into Yua’s bedroom to wake her and get her ready for the day.
“Hi, papa,” she says in a voice so tiny that the overwhelming wave of adoration Kaoru feels for her in that moment almost breaks his heart in two.
“G’morning, sweetheart,” he kisses into her hair.
She sits herself up in the bed, balling her small hands into fists and rubbing at both of her eyes, blinking herself awake.
Kaoru isn’t prepared for the affection that surges through his whole body when she looks up at him in a way that is so trusting and reserved solely for a parent from their toddler. If he’s being honest, he’s never prepared for that feeling. The feeling of having his breath punched out of him when he realises that he has his heart walking around outside his body. And who knew that Kaoru’s heart would look like the exact spitting image of her daddy?
A lump forms in his throat every time Yua beams up at him with the same ridiculously bright grin of Kojiro’s; her starry-eyes identically coloured to his and shining with the same happiness, her green curls softly framing her face.
Yeah, okay, he can definitely deal with waking up early for a few days for this.
🍵🌸
The first day without Kojiro is going swimmingly, actually.
Kaoru idly wonders why he worried so much. The last four years of parenting must have counted for something. And, anyway, Kojiro’s an idiot—what could he possibly know about parenting that Kaoru doesn’t?
Okay, to be fair, it’s only just now coming up to the end of Kaoru’s working day and all he’s done parenting-wise so far is wake Yua up, make her breakfast, and take her to kindergarten. But still, he’s never done that before and nothing bad happened.
Kojiro’s parents usually always pick Yua up from kindergarten while both Kaoru and Kojiro finish work, and it’s no different today. When Kaoru eventually finishes in the late afternoon, he collects Yua from the Nanjo household and they head home.
Yua excitedly tells Kaoru all about her day on the car ride and he listens intently, as he always does, asking her questions about her stories in genuine interest.
Anxious to get dinner out of the way, he makes it as soon as they get through the front door, knowing that Kojiro left them pre-prepared meals in the fridge so Kaoru didn’t have to worry about what to cook.
As he heats up their food, Yua sits on a stool at the kitchen island. She’s entertaining herself by drawing, and is telling Kaoru about all of her favourite colours. Which, as it turns out, is all of the colours, but especially pink because: “look, papa, it’s you!” she says, pointing to her paper and at the pink sun she has drawn on it.
🍵🌸
They settle down in the living room after dinner, and, okay, it is starting to dawn on Kaoru how weird this is without Kojiro.
Kojiro’s entire existence is loud. So loud that, without him, there’s a sad sort of eeriness to the silence. Kaoru feels his ears ringing with imaginary tinnitus, desperate to fill the quiet that has settled over their home.
Usually, Kojiro would be playing with Yua. Lying on the floor with her, tickling her, playing with her toys, drawing with her; the air filled with squeals and laughter when he picks her up and spins her around. Kojiro’s presence is so huge it fills every room he enters; because of it, the space surrounding him perpetually exudes warmth, fun, homeliness.
The room now, without him, is hushed. There’s an animated movie playing quietly in the background on the television. Kaoru is on the couch, tablet in hand, working. Yua sits at the chabudai continuing her drawings from earlier. She pipes up every now and then with small comments about her drawings, but the room is mostly still, quiet, choking. Kaoru shivers.
It’s cold without Kojiro.
Yua has also started to notice that something is amiss too, because every so often when she pipes up, it’s a question that is always along the lines of “where’s daddy?” or “when will daddy be back?”
Kaoru reminds her (every time) that daddy is out of town for a few days.
“Oh,” she says, dejected (every time) and goes back to her drawing.
After the last time she asks, Kaoru smiles softly—sadly—down at her where she’s sitting. Her back is to him, so she doesn’t notice any of his sadness.
It’s moments like this that send his thoughts spiralling.
He never truly considered becoming a parent in the first place, and yet here he is: wanting nothing more than to give this little girl the world, because she is his world.
Sure, the thought crossed his mind that he would maybe, one day, be a parent. But he never put enough effort into the thought for it to come to fruition. And now it often feels unreal that this is his reality. The distant dreams he had longing for Kojiro to be his and only his. The fleeting moments of weakness, wishing for a family life which he never felt as though he deserved.
And by some stroke of luck, he ended up in a relationship with the man he’s been in love with for as long as he’s known what the word ‘love’ meant, and “papa” to their daughter.
Theirs.
She is theirs, and they’re raising her together. And yet… and yet, Kaoru still has these moments of self doubt that he will never be good enough for her. That he cannot give the world to her, because the world rests in the palms of Kojiro’s hands, not Kaoru’s.
Kaoru places his tablet down and crawls onto his knees to sit next to Yua.
“Can I draw with you?”
“Yeah!” She exclaims, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of sharing this with him. She leans over the table to find a fresh piece of paper, and passes him some colouring pencils too.
🍵🌸
It eventually comes to bath and bedtime.
Kaoru runs Yua’s bath while she stands tentatively in the bathroom doorway, rocking back and forth on her feet.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Kaoru asks over his shoulder while he’s checking the temperature of the water.
“Is daddy home soon?” She asks (again) although this time the tone of her voice is a lot sadder than it had been before.
Kaoru sighs and his head drops slightly. He turns off the tap.
“Not tonight, Yua,” he turns to her, speaking gently. “He’s away for a few days, remember?”
She nods in understanding, but her lip trembles a bit.
“Come here,” Kaoru says, holding out a hand as a gesture. He undresses her and lifts her into the bath. “The quicker you get into bed tonight and sleep, the closer it’ll be until daddy gets home. Okay?”
“Okay, papa,” she says tiredly, stifling a yawn and sitting quietly while Kaoru washes her.
🍵🌸
It’s almost the end of their first day without Kojiro, and Kaoru really didn’t expect that it was going to be this hard.
“I want daddy,” Yua says between hiccuping sobs while Kaoru is tucking her into bed.
“I know, sweetheart,” he sighs. “It’s just for a few more days,” he tries to reassure her (once again) moving to sit beside her on the bed and wrapping an arm around her.
She leans into him and cries out for her daddy some more.
“Okay,” Kaoru says, gently stroking her arm with one hand while he pulls his phone from his pocket with the other. “Hold on.”
He’s not sure why he didn’t do this earlier, but now that it’s clear to him Yua isn’t going to settle down until she has her daddy, it’s his last option.
After quickly finding Kojiro’s number on his phone, he presses the button for a video call and adjusts his phone so he and Yua are both visible on screen. Kojiro answers the call almost immediately.
“Hey,” Kojiro beams with a smile and tone so bright, it’s blinding. His brows furrow when he sees Yua is crying.
She almost stops crying straight away when she sees him on the screen, softly murmuring “hi daddy,” through the last remaining sniffles.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asks, the tone of his voice having shifted to be incredibly tender, making himself comfortable on the hotel bed while he asks.
“Are you coming home?” Yua asks, her voice small.
“Oh, Yua,” Kojiro’s expression falls slightly, but Kaoru can see he’s trying to keep a calming smile. “I’m in Tokyo. I won’t be home for a few days.”
Yua lets out a few more wails at his answer, and Kaoru strokes his free hand up and down her arm again in an attempt to soothe her.
“Has papa read you your bedtime story yet?” Kojiro asks, changing the subject; clearly trying to de-escalate the situation, as he’s prone to do.
Yua shakes her head. “I want you,” she sniffles.
Realistically, Kaoru knows it’s not personal—that Yua just hasn’t experienced being away from either of her parents yet in her short life, and the disruption is a lot for her—but the words still sting.
Kojiro’s eyes shift on screen slightly, so that he can meet Kaoru’s gaze over the camera as he flashes an apologetic look his way.
“Tell me about your day, baby,” Kojiro prompts her, again another attempt at changing the subject.
Yua nods, doing as she’s told, perking up slightly as she talks.
Kaoru continues to stroke her arm soothingly while she repeats the same stories he’s already heard earlier that day, letting her and Kojiro have their time to catch up.
Eventually, Yua tires herself out and drifts off to sleep. Kaoru kisses her forehead goodnight, and quietly leaves the room.
🍵🌸
Kojiro waits until Kaoru is settled, comfortable on their king-size bed, before he starts the conversation up again from the video call they’re still on.
“Is everything okay?” Kojiro finally asks, concern seeping through his tone and expression.
“Everything’s fine, it’s just—” Kaoru sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so—so weird without you here.”
“Oh, baby,” Kojiro says so fondly that it makes Kaoru feel sick with longing. (Which is ridiculous, because Kojiro’s only been away for twenty-four hours. Get a grip, Sakurayashiki.)
“You know you’re a great parent, right?” Kojiro adds.
“I know that, you oaf, I don’t need you to tell me.”
“No, of course not,” Kojiro chuckles. “She reminds me more and more of you every day, y’know.”
“Do I need to buy you a book on biology for Christmas?”
Kojiro lets out a low laugh and Kaoru swears he can feel it vibrate through the phone.
“I know she looks like me,” Kojiro says. “But the way she talks? She’s so smart for her age, witty, talented. She’s your daughter, through and through, Kaoru.”
“Dimwit,” Kaoru scoffs. Kojiro rolls his eyes.
There’s a small beat in the conversation, but then Kojiro asks quietly: “Do you need me to come home?”
“No, we’ll be fine. Stay. Enjoy the conference,” Kaoru sighs. “You haven’t told me how the first day went, anyway.”
Their conversation continues back and forth for a small while, the two of them lying in their respective beds—1,300 miles apart—until it’s time for them both to call it a night.
🍵🌸
It’s been four years since Kaoru has slept alone. He’s more than gotten used to falling asleep with Kojiro next to him; keeping him warm, stroking patterns down his spine until sleep finally claims him.
And, for the first time in those four years, Kaoru has to ask Carla to play his playlist of lullabies (which he’s thankful he didn’t have her delete.)
He does eventually fall asleep, but it’s not a deep one; tossing and turning and overall disturbed by anxiety and stress.
So, when Kaoru hears a small noise in the middle of the night, he bolts upright. He squints into the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust while simultaneously reaching over for his glasses on the bedside table.
“Papa,” Yua sniffles, pushing open the bedroom door which he had purposefully left slightly ajar, in case she needed him.
She has her favourite bunny plushie grasped tightly in one hand, and her other hand is rubbing at her wet eyes, while she pads along to stand next to his bed.
“Yua,” Kaoru exhales softly, leaning over so he can lift her and pull her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”
“I miss daddy,” she sniffles into his chest.
“Oh,” Kaoru sighs, brushing away some tears from her cheek with his thumb. “I do too, baby.”
He cuddles her closely for a while, rocking her gently in his arms. She nuzzles into his chest, her tears leaving a patch of wetness on the oversized shirt of Kojiro’s which Kaoru frequently wears to bed. Kaoru absentmindedly strokes a gentle hand down her back.
Yua has never actually slept in the same bed as them before. The last time she even slept in the same room as them was when she was six months old. They wanted to keep some boundaries between them, nervous that they might elicit some separation anxieties if they let her get too comfortable with them in their room.
But in this particular moment, Kaoru can’t seem to care. This is new for her: she’s never been without Kojiro, she misses him. And, honestly, Kaoru is struggling without him too.
It prompts him to ask her: “Do you want to sleep in here tonight?”
When he feels her nod gently against him, he whispers “okay,” and manoeuvres them to lie down, pulling her as close as he safely can and keeping his arm around her until they both fall asleep, huddled together.
🍵🌸
By letting Yua sleep in his bed last night, Kaoru has unknowingly set a precedent for the next few days.
They manage to get through each day without many hiccups along the way. Yua is still periodically getting upset, working herself up wondering when Kojiro is coming home.
Kaoru has learnt that there is no point in saying “it’ll only be a few days,” to a toddler because “a few days” may as well mean “a few years.”
Instead, he’s taken to sitting with her until she cries it out of her system, unable to find another viable solution. He keeps telling himself: at least it’s only a few more days. Which, in truth, reassures him as much as it does his daughter.
They video call Kojiro every night, once Yua’s tucked up in bed. Then Kaoru kisses her goodnight, retreats to his own room, and continues his own conversation with Kojiro until it’s time for them to both sleep.
And then.
Then Kaoru gets woken up in the middle of the night when his toddler crawls into bed beside him. And he lets her, because god forbid he removes this source of comfort from either of them.
On the night that Kojiro is supposed to get home, though, Kaoru kisses Yua goodnight and tells her she has to stay in her own bed tonight. Otherwise daddy won’t have anywhere to sleep.
It’s not true, of course, their bed is more than big enough for the three of them. But if Kojiro comes home to find Yua in their bed, Kaoru will practically be admitting to the fact that he can’t sleep without Kojiro even for just a few days; that he sought comfort in their small daughter’s embrace because she is a tiny, living, breathing version of the man who has commandeered Kaoru’s heart for so long.
And, in true four year old fashion, Yua enthusiastically agrees with her parent: she won’t sleep in his bed tonight, she will sleep in her own and when she wakes up, her daddy will finally be home.
Kaoru should have known it was futile telling her to stay in her own bed for the night.
It’s the middle of the night, once again.
And Yua is, once again, crawling into bed with Kaoru.
He huffs out a laugh and kisses her on the forehead, wrapping a protective arm around her.
Well, it is only one more night.
🍵🌸
Kojiro’s flight gets in late that night—or rather, early that morning.
It’s 5AM when he walks into the dark and quiet house; suitcase dragging behind him, limp and heavy much like his limbs.
Kojiro stealthily makes his way through the house and into the bedroom. He’s exhausted from the conference and from the flight. He wants nothing more than to fall into bed, pull his boyfriend close, and nap for a few hours before waking his daughter up with pancakes and kisses.
When he softly pushes in through the bedroom door, he begins taking off his clothes down to his underwear; quietly, in a bid not to wake Kaoru. It’s only once his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room that he sees something he wasn’t expecting.
Sure enough, there’s Kaoru: lying on his side of the bed, fast asleep. But there, in his arms, is Yua.
Kojiro stops undressing briefly to watch them, a warm smile inevitably spreading over his face at the sight. It’s possibly the sweetest thing Kojiro has ever seen. They look soft, cosy, comfortable; he commits the image to memory and then hurries through undressing so he can join them.
He opts for whichever pyjama pants he can find the quickest, instead of his underwear, and shuffles into bed next to them; as silently as efficiently as possible so not to wake them.
Yua doesn’t budge when the bed dips under his movement, but Kaoru stirs slightly—because of course he does, because even in his sleep he’s stubborn enough to do the exact opposite of what Kojiro wants him to do.
Kaoru peers at Kojiro through one slightly open eye.
“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Kojiro whispers.
Kaoru hums a noncommittal response and shuts his eye again.
Kojiro smiles gently, bringing his hand up to brush over the arm that Kaoru has draped over Yua.
“Hey,” Kojiro whispers to Kaoru, who opens his one eye again. “Why is she in here?”
“We missed you,” Kaoru mumbles drowsily. His mind is still clearly dazed from sleep because Kojiro knows he never would have been so honest otherwise.
The smirk that spreads over Kojiro’s face is unavoidable. He moves his arm down to Kaoru’s waist so that he can pull him—and Yua—closer, until the three of them are huddled in the middle of the bed; enclosed in Kojiro’s embrace. It’s not long before sleep claims Kojiro, too.
🍵🌸
When Kojiro wakes the next morning, it’s to the excited squeals of a toddler jumping on him.
“Oof,” Kojiro groans when Yua throws herself onto his chest, then he chuckles. “Did you get bigger while I was gone?”
“Yeah!” She exclaims and he laughs again, pulling her down into a hug and kissing the top of her head.
“I missed you so much, baby girl,” he says, letting her go so she can settle herself to sit comfortably on his chest. “I’m never leaving again.”
“Yay!” Yua shouts before bursting into an excited ramble about all the things she did while Kojiro was gone. He joins in with her excitement, even though he heard everything already in the nightly video calls.
Kaoru, who hasn’t moved from the position he was sleeping in, watches the scene unfold before him through blurry eyes, a content smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
Sure, Kaoru has never been a morning person and can barely function before it’s 10AM, but in his current half-sleepy state he knows that he is not close enough to the action. He shuffles closer to his boyfriend and daughter, until he’s flush against Kojiro’s side.
When Kojiro loops his arm under Kaoru and around his waist to pull him impossibly closer, Kaoru hums blissfully.
Parenthood might be messy. It might be imprecise, disorganised, unpredictable, irrational, and uncontrollable. But as Kaoru lies in bed, eyes shut and basking in the warmth of Kojiro’s body next to him, listening to the excited squeals of Kojiro entertaining their daughter; Kaoru can breathe again. Now that Kojiro is home, equilibrium has been restored.
And in all the imperfections that being a parent brings, Kaoru knows his little family is perfect just like this.