Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Togo woke up the next morning, he felt a rare sense of relaxation knowing it was his week off from the hectic demands of his responsibilities. Stretching his muscular frame, he reached over to grab his phone from the nightstand, his mind already starting to plan the day ahead.

The screen lit up with notifications, and one in particular caught his attention—a message from Runosuke. Togo's brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as he opened the message, reading the invitation for him and Ayano to spend the week at his brother's home for some family bonding.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Togo's lips. He appreciated the gesture from Runosuke, knowing his older brother was often more reserved with his emotions than he was. The prospect of spending time with Runosuke and his nephews brought a warmth to Togo's chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. 

Togo's protective instincts stirred as he thought about how she would react to this new change in their routine. He knew Ayano had grown accustomed to their quiet, routine life together, and any disruption could unsettle her.

Carefully, Togo planned the day ahead. He would make breakfast, ensuring it was something Ayano liked—simple and familiar. Then, he would gently break the news to her about visiting Uncle Runosuke's place for a week. Togo knew Ayano wasn't one for spontaneous changes, but he hoped that the promise of spending time with family would appeal to her in some way.

As he started preparing breakfast—a modest spread of eggs and toast—Togo's thoughts drifted to his own childhood with Runosuke. It hadn't been peaceful by any stretch of the imagination. After their parents died, Runosuke had to shoulder the burden of taking care of them both. Every night, his brother would come home bloody or beaten, clutching a small amount of money he had managed to scrounge up. Loansharks were after them constantly, demanding repayment for the debts their parents had left behind.

Those were dark times, filled with fear and uncertainty. Togo remembered the nights he would stay up, waiting for Runosuke to return, terrified that something terrible had happened to him. The sight of his brother's battered body became a hauntingly familiar one. But no matter how much pain he endured, Runosuke never gave up. He fought tooth and nail to keep them afloat, to protect Togo from the harsh realities of their world.

It was only when Togo got into high school that there was some semblance of stability in their lives. Runosuke had found a steadier source of income, and for the first time in years, they didn't go to bed hungry. But this newfound stability came at a cost. Runosuke began coming home later and later, his eyes hollow and his demeanor distant. 

As Togo fried the eggs, his mind continued to wander back to those high school years. Runosuke had told him he got an office job, but judging by the tattoos creeping up his brother's arms, it was far from the truth. The elaborate designs were a stark contrast to the image of a white-collar worker. But in his naivety, Togo thought it was cool to be part of a gang. The allure of the underworld, combined with the respect and fear it commanded, seemed thrilling to his teenage mind.

Fueled by this misguided admiration, Togo became a rebellious delinquent. He skipped classes, got into fights, and eventually provoked a gang that tormented him for weeks. The constant harassment wore him down, and he was nearing his breaking point when Ryoba stepped in. She fought them off on her own, her ferocity and skill leaving an indelible mark on Togo's memory. The gang stopped bothering him after that.

For a long time, Togo wondered if Ryoba did it because she cared about him. Her actions had saved him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude and infatuation. But as he delved deeper into the shadows of their lives, he discovered the truth. Ryoba had fought off the gang to make a deal with his brother. It was a transactional gesture, not one born out of concern or affection.

Through this, Togo learned that Runosuke worked as a Yakuza boss. The realization shattered his illusion of an office job and replaced it with a complex understanding of his brother's sacrifices. Runosuke had entered the dangerous world of organized crime to ensure their survival, paying a heavy price for their safety and stability.

This newfound knowledge weighed heavily on Togo, but it also fueled his own path into the Yakuza. He wanted to ease his brother's burden, to stand beside him in the world that had claimed so much of their lives. Runosuke did everything to dissuade Togo from following in his footsteps. He insisted that Togo wasn't cut out for the Yakuza life, emphasizing the brutality and constant danger. 

Runosuke's words echoed in Togo's mind, harsh and protective. "You ain't cut out for this, Togo. I don't want you to be a part of this world. It's already taken too much from us." 

Runosuke's words stung. They ignited a stubborn defiance in Togo. He felt a need to prove himself, to show that he could handle whatever the world threw at him. But deep down, he also understood his brother's protective instincts. Runosuke didn't want him to endure the same brutal life he had been forced into.

But Togo was stubborn. He wanted to prove himself, to show his brother that he was strong enough to handle anything. When Runosuke's resistance became insurmountable, Togo found another way to prove his worth and escape the shadows of his past. He joined the military, enlisting alongside his best friend, Saburo Meshino.

The military was a stark contrast to the chaotic life he had known. The discipline, the structure, and the camaraderie offered him a sense of purpose and belonging. Saburo and Togo quickly became inseparable, their bond strengthened by shared experiences and the constant threat of danger. Together, they faced the horrors of war, the sleepless nights, and the relentless training.

As the days turned into months and the months into years, Togo honed his skills, becoming a formidable soldier. The harshness and intimidation that defined him now were born from these experiences, from the need to protect himself and those he cared about. But the military also took its toll. The loss of friends, the constant danger, and the weight of responsibility etched lines of pain and determination into his face.

One night, as Togo and Saburo sat by a campfire, Saburo spoke words that would stay with Togo forever. "You know, man, we've been through hell and back. But you're still here, still fighting. You got what it takes, more than you realize."

Those were the last of Saburo's words as the next day, the battlefield was unforgiving. It was there, amidst the deafening roar of gunfire and the relentless chaos of war, that Togo experienced his most profound loss. Saburo, his closest friend, was killed in action. The memory of that day was etched into his mind, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life and the brutal reality of the world they lived in.

Saburo's death shattered something inside Togo. The grief and anger threatened to consume him, leaving him a shell of the person he once was. The military, once a beacon of hope, became a source of pain and disillusionment. He finished his service, but he returned home a changed man.

Upon his return, Togo found himself at a crossroads. He had no direction, no clear path to follow. The military had provided structure, but it had also taken a part of him that he could never get back. It was during this time of uncertainty that he turned to the one place he had always been told to avoid: the Yakuza.

Runosuke, despite his initial resistance, saw the determination in Togo's eyes. He knew his brother needed something to ground him, something to give his life purpose again. So, reluctantly, he allowed Togo to join the Atatsuma clan. But there were no shortcuts. Togo had to start at the very bottom, just like everyone else.

The early days were grueling. Togo found himself performing menial tasks, running errands, and doing the dirty work that no one else wanted. The competition was brutal. He faced constant challenges from other members who were eager to prove themselves. But Togo was relentless. The pain and loss he had experienced fueled his determination. He fought hard, never backing down, and slowly, he began to rise through the ranks.

His military training gave him an edge. He was disciplined, strategic, and unyielding in the face of adversity. Each victory, no matter how small, brought him closer to his goal. He earned respect through his actions, his loyalty, and his unwavering commitment to the clan. The journey was long and arduous, but eventually, he found himself at the top, second only to Runosuke as the underboss of the Atatsuma clan.

But with his ascension came an unexpected emptiness. The sense of purpose that had driven him for so long began to wane. The power and respect he had earned felt hollow. He had achieved his goal, but the satisfaction he had hoped for eluded him. The daily operations of the clan became routine, and the thrill of the climb was replaced by a monotonous existence.

Togo's nights were restless, plagued by memories of Saburo and the weight of his own actions. He carried the burden of his choices heavily, questioning if this was truly the life he wanted. He had hoped to find meaning in the Yakuza, but instead, he found himself trapped in a cycle of violence and power struggles.

As Togo pulled up to Runosuke’s house, he glanced at Ayano sitting quietly beside him. Ayano sat quietly in the passenger seat, clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her expression was, as usual, emotionless, but he could sense a hint of curiosity in her eyes. He smiled reassuringly at her. “You ready to meet your cousins, sweetheart?”

Ayano nodded, her small hands gripping the stuffed rabbit she always carried with her. Togo got out of the car, walked around to her side, and opened the door, lifting her out with care. Her tiny hand slipped into his, and together they walked up to the house.

Runosuke greeted them at the door, his imposing figure softened by the warmth in his eyes as he looked at his younger brother and the little girl by his side. “Togo, Ayano, welcome,” he said, his deep voice filled with genuine affection.

“Hey, aniki,” Togo replied, his gruff tone softening as he spoke to Runosuke. "Ayano, this is your uncle Runosuke.”

Ayano looked up at Runosuke, her expression neutral but polite. “Hello, ojisan.”

Runosuke smiled, a rare expression for the typically stoic man. “Hello, Ayano. It’s good to see you again.” He turned to his sons, who were eagerly peeking around the corner. “Karasuke, Chorosuke, come say hello to your cousin.”

Karasuke burst into the room first as they entered Togo's home, his excitement palpable. "Ayano! Ayano!" he exclaimed, rushing over to her with arms wide open. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms, beaming with enthusiasm. "I'm Karasuke! It's so cool to finally meet you!"

Togo's paternal instincts kicked in immediately. He watched Karasuke carefully, his protective nature urging him to take Ayano from his eldest nephew's arms. 

He wanted to take Ayano from his eldest nephew, concerned that Karasuke might accidentally drop his beloved baby girl. He took a step forward, his expression tense.

Runosuke noticed his brother’s reaction and chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Togo’s shoulder. “Relax, little brother. Karasuke’s stronger than he looks. He’s been training hard.”

Togo hesitated, his eyes flicking between Ayano and Karasuke. He trusted his brother’s words, but his protective instincts were hard to quell. Ayano, in Karasuke’s arms, remained emotionless but allowed herself to be held, her grip on her stuffed rabbit never loosening.

Karasuke began tossing Ayano in the air and catching her. At first, Ayano's eyes widened with surprise, her small hands instinctively gripping her stuffed rabbit tighter. But as Karasuke caught her securely each time, a subtle shift happened. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, and the flicker of enjoyment in her eyes became more apparent. It was the closest thing to a smile Togo had seen from her since she came into his life.

Karasuke's laughter filled the room. “Look at you, Ayano! You’re so light, like a little feather!” He caught her one last time and held her close. “You’re gonna be my baby sister forever,” he declared, his voice full of genuine affection.

Ayano’s response was a simple nod, but there was a warmth in her eyes that spoke volumes. She nestled into Karasuke’s arms, her tiny body relaxing against his. Togo watched this exchange with a mixture of relief and wonder. He had been worried about how Ayano would adjust, but seeing her in the embrace of family, even if only for a moment, gave him hope.

Runosuke glanced at Togo, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “See, Togo? She’s already fitting in.”

Togo’s gruff exterior softened as he watched his niece and nephews. “Yeah, she is,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. 

Just then, Chorosuke appeared, his excitement just as palpable. He rushed over to Ayano, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug while she was still being carried by Karasuke. “Hi, Ayano! I’m Chorosuke! We’re gonna have so much fun together!”

Togo watched, surprised at how easily Karasuke held Ayano despite Chorosuke’s additional weight. His nephews were indeed stronger than he had anticipated. “You’re right,” he said to Runosuke, his tone grudgingly admiring. “They’re tough kids.”

Runosuke nodded, pride evident in his eyes. “They’ve been training with me. I want them to be able to take care of themselves.”

Karasuke carefully set Ayano down, sensing her quiet demeanor. He crouched to her level, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Do you like playing games, Ayano? We have lots of toys and games here!”

Ayano looked at him, her expression neutral but her eyes showing a hint of interest. “I like games,” she replied softly.

Chorosuke clapped his hands in excitement. “Great! Let’s show you our room! We have so many cool things to play with!”

The boys led Ayano down the hall, chattering excitedly. Togo and Runosuke followed at a more leisurely pace, watching the interaction with a mixture of amusement and affection.

“Looks like they’re gonna get along just fine,” Runosuke remarked, glancing at Togo with a knowing smile.

Togo nodded, his gaze following Ayano and his nephews down the hall. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice gruff but tinged with warmth. “They’re good kids.”

The scene unfolding before him was something Togo hadn’t dared to hope for. The sight of Ayano, usually so withdrawn, now engaging with her cousins in her quiet way, filled him with a deep sense of relief. His heart, often so hardened by the life he had led, softened a little more with each passing moment.

Runosuke’s home was filled with laughter and the sounds of playful banter. It was a stark contrast to the world Togo and Runosuke had come from. As they walked, Togo glanced at his brother, memories of their tumultuous past flashing in his mind. They had fought so hard to reach this point, and now, it felt like they were finally seeing the fruits of their labor.

Entering the boys’ room, Togo observed as Karasuke and Chorosuke eagerly showed Ayano their toys and games. Ayano’s responses were minimal, but there was a subtle change in her demeanor—a slight relaxation of her shoulders, a softer look in her eyes. It was as if the presence of her cousins was beginning to chip away at the wall she had built around herself.

“She’s been through a lot,” Togo murmured, his eyes never leaving Ayano. “I just want her to feel safe.”

Runosuke placed a reassuring hand on Togo’s shoulder. “She will, Togo. She’s got you, and now she’s got us too.”

Togo took a deep breath, the weight of his responsibilities pressing heavily on him. But for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. He had a family—one that cared for him and for Ayano. He would do whatever it took to protect them, to give Ayano the life she deserved.

Runosuke looked at his brother and asked if he wanted a drink while the kids were occupied with playing. Togo chuckled and nodded before following his brother to the bar area of the house.

Runosuke poured himself and Togo glasses of expensive liquor, settling back into his chair. The two brothers sat in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the smooth burn of the alcohol.

“So, Togo,” Runosuke began, swirling his glass thoughtfully. “How’s it been, taking care of Ayano?”

Togo took a sip of his drink, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s been... different. But she’s... she’s somethin’ else, you know?”

Runosuke leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Different how?”

Togo took a deep breath, considering his words. “I didn't wanna take care of a kid at first. Thought she’d be loud, spoiled, and whiny, like most kids. But she’s not any of those things. She’s quiet, almost too quiet sometimes, and she listens. Doesn’t complain, doesn’t ask for much.”

Runosuke nodded, understanding. “Sounds like she’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Togo agreed, his voice softening. “Ryoba and Jokichi... they really messed her up. Physically, mentally. It took a while for her to trust me. Hell, sometimes I still think she’s testing me, seeing if I’m gonna let her down like they did.”

Runosuke’s expression turned serious. “And you’re not going to let her down. She’s your daughter now, Togo. She needs you.”

Togo nodded, his grip tightening around his glass. “I know. And I’m gonna do right by her. I just... I didn’t expect her to get under my skin like this. She’s got this way of making you want to protect her, to keep her safe from everything.”

Runosuke smiled slightly. “That’s because you care about her. And that’s a good thing, Togo. She needs someone who cares.”

Togo looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Yeah. She’s changed me, I think. Made me realize what’s important.”

Runosuke clinked his glass against Togo’s. “To family, then. And to doing right by them.”

Togo raised his glass, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “To family.”

They drank in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared past and uncertain future hanging between them. 

Togo leaned back in his chair, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips. “Hell, I probably ain’t even supposed to have kids, yet here I am.”

Runosuke chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. “None of us are ever really ready, Togo. Look at me—I wasn’t fit to be a father either, but my boys are turning out just fine. You’ve got to stop bringing yourself down so much.”

Togo’s smile faded slightly, and he shook his head. “Yeah, well, I don’t even have anyone to have kids with.”

Runosuke glanced at his brother, a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh, come on. What about Ryoba?”

Togo’s expression darkened, and he shot his brother a glare. "Oh shut the fuck up," he snapped, his tone harsh but not entirely serious.

Runosuke laughed, unfazed by Togo’s harsh reaction. “Come on, Togo. You’ve been pining after her for years. Everyone knows it.”

Togo stared into his empty glass, the weight of Runosuke's words sinking in. He hadn't expected his brother to bring up Ryoba. The mention of her name dredged up a mix of emotions—pain, anger, and a lingering sense of betrayal.

"Yeah, well, that was a long time ago," Togo muttered, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. He poured himself another drink, trying to bury his thoughts under the burn of alcohol.

Runosuke leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "You loved her, Togo. More than anything. Even after she married Jokichi, you never gave up."

Togo's jaw clenched, his grip on the glass tightening. "Don't remind me," he growled. "She made her choice."

Runosuke regarded him quietly, his gaze steady. "She did. But you never stopped caring about her."

Togo scoffed, bitterness lacing his words. "Caring about her was my mistake. Look at what she did to Ayano."

Runosuke's brows furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?"

Togo hesitated, his thoughts drifting back to that first day he took Ayano in. He remembered the bruises and scratches on her fragile body, evidence of Ryoba's neglect and abuse. Anger flared within him, a protective rage that burned hotter than anything he'd ever felt for Ryoba.

"How could I continue loving someone who would hurt an innocent kid?" Togo's voice was low, barely above a whisper. "Her own kid."

"I get it, you know," Runosuke continued, his eyes meeting Togo's with a steady, empathetic gaze. "The boys' mother... she was just like Ryoba."

Togo's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise and curiosity crossing his features. He hadn't expected this revelation, hadn't known the full extent of his brother's struggles.

Runosuke took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair as memories surfaced. "She was beautiful, charming, but... she had a darkness in her. Just like Ryoba. She hurt them, Togo. Hurt me too. It took everything I had to protect Karasuke and Chorosuke from her."

Togo's grip on the doorframe tightened, the parallels between their experiences striking a chord deep within him. "I didn't know," he admitted, his voice softer now, tinged with a newfound respect for his brother's resilience.

Runosuke nodded, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I didn't want you to. I wanted to keep you out of it, to protect you from that kind of pain. But sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we can't shield the ones we love from the harsh realities of life."

Togo stepped back into the room, his earlier frustration giving way to a sense of kinship and understanding. "How'd you do it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How did you keep going?"

Runosuke's gaze turned inward, the weight of his past evident in his eyes. "I did it for them," he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination. "They needed me to be strong, to be their anchor. Just like Ayano needs you now."

Togo nodded slowly, the truth of his brother's words settling deep within him. He had found a purpose in caring for Ayano, a reason to keep fighting, to keep going.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Togo said, his voice firm with resolve. "For Ayano."

Runosuke smiled, a rare expression of genuine warmth and pride. Before Runosuke could reply, they heard a loud squeal from the direction of the boys’ room. Togo’s heart skipped a beat, his body tensing as he shot up from his chair.

“What was that?” he demanded, his voice sharp with concern.

Runosuke laughed softly, shaking his head. “Relax, Togo. It’s probably just the kids playing around.”

But Togo was already striding down the hall, his footsteps quick and heavy. He pushed open the door to the boys’ room, relief flooding through him when he saw Ayano sitting on the floor, laughing with Karasuke and Chorosuke.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” Togo asked, his voice a mixture of relief and sternness.

Karasuke looked up, grinning broadly. “We’re playing tag, ojisan! Ayano’s really fast!”

Togo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, his earlier anxiety dissipating. He knelt down beside Ayano, brushing a hand over her hair. “You alright, baby?”

Ayano nodded, her expression calm as always. “I’m fine, Papa.”

Togo sighed softly, relief washing over him once more. He glanced back at Runosuke, who was leaning against the doorframe with a knowing smile on his face.

“You’ve got it bad, Togo,” Runosuke teased gently. “Separation anxiety, huh?”

Togo scowled at his brother but couldn’t deny the truth in his words. “Shut up, aniki.”

Runosuke chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Come on, let’s leave them to play. They’ll be fine.”

Togo nodded, following his brother into the living room. As Runosuke and Togo returned to the living room, Togo found himself hesitant to let Ayano out of his sight again. He looked around, searching for an excuse to keep her close. Spotting Ayano’s slightly disheveled braids, he seized upon an idea.

“Hey, boys,” Togo called out, his tone gruff but gentle. “Before you start tag, let me fix Ayano’s hair. Her braids are lookin’ a bit messy.”

Karasuke and Chorosuke groaned in protest, their disappointment evident. “Aw, ojisan, do we have to wait?” Karasuke whined, his energy practically vibrating.

“Yeah, we wanna play tag!” Chorosuke added, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Togo shot them a look that brooked no argument. “Patience, boys. It’ll just take a minute.”

Reluctantly, the boys agreed and dashed off down the hall to resume their game. Togo scooped Ayano up in his arms, carrying her back to the living room. He settled her down in a chair, retrieving a hairbrush from a nearby table.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Togo said softly, his rough fingers gently untangling her hair. “Let’s get these braids sorted out.”

As Togo worked on Ayano’s hair, his touch was surprisingly delicate for a man of his reputation. His large hands, capable of such violence, moved with a gentleness that was reserved only for her. Ayano sat quietly, her eyes fixed ahead, but there was a subtle relaxation in her posture.

Togo’s mind wandered as he brushed through her hair, reflecting on the changes Ayano had brought into his life. He had never imagined himself in this role, yet here he was, braiding the hair of the little girl who had become his entire world.

“You like playin’ with your cousins?” Togo asked, his voice softer than usual.

Ayano nodded again. “Yes, Papa. They’re nice.” 

Togo’s heart swelled with pride. “Good. They like havin’ you around too.”

Togo finished the first braid, securing it with a hair tie, then started on the second. He remembered the first day he had brought her home, the bruises and scars marring her small body. The sight had shattered any lingering feelings he might have had for Ryoba, replacing them with a fierce, protective love for Ayano.

Runosuke watched them from a distance, his usual stoic expression softened by a rare smile. He saw the depth of Togo’s care and knew that his brother had found a new purpose, one that transcended the violence and darkness of their world.

“There,” Togo finally said, tying off the last braid with a small ribbon before leaning down and kissing Ayano's forehead. “All done.”

Ayano touched her braids, her fingers tracing the neat twists. “Thank you, Papa.”

Togo smiled, a rare expression that softened his features. “You’re welcome, sweetie,"

They sat together on the couch for a while longer, Ayano leaning against Togo’s side while he wrapped an arm protectively around her. The sound of the boys’ laughter drifted in from the other room, a comforting backdrop to their quiet moment.

As Togo sat on the couch, Ayano nestled against him, he savored the quiet moment they shared. Her presence, though often unresponsive in expression, comforted him in ways he couldn't articulate. The sounds of laughter and playful chatter from Karasuke and Chorosuke in the next room reassured him of her happiness in their company.

After a while, Ayano shifted on Togo's lap, looking up at him with her usual calm gaze. "I'm going to play with Karasuke-niisan and Chorosuke-niisan now, Papa," she said softly.

Togo nodded, his hand gently ruffling her hair. "Alright, sweetie. Have fun."

Ayano climbed off his lap and walked over to where her cousins were, seamlessly integrating back into their game of tag. Togo watched her go, a mixture of pride and reluctance filling his heart. He knew she needed this time with her cousins, yet he couldn't shake the protective instinct that made him want to keep her close.

Runosuke, leaning against the doorway with a knowing smile, chuckled softly. He could see the conflict in Togo’s eyes, the fierce desire to keep Ayano close battling with the understanding that she needed to build relationships beyond their small, protective circle.

“You alright there, Togo?” Runosuke teased lightly, his voice laced with amusement.

Togo scowled half-heartedly, unable to hide his concern. “Yeah, yeah. Just... watchin’ out for her, that’s all.”

Runosuke nodded knowingly, his expression softening as he regarded his younger brother. "She's lucky to have you, Togo. But remember, she's tougher than you think. Let her spread her wings a bit."

Togo grunted, unconvinced but acknowledging the truth in his brother's words. "Yeah, I know."

The two brothers stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching Ayano dart around the room with Karasuke and Chorosuke. Their laughter filled the air, a joyful sound that eased Togo's worries somewhat.

They watched as Ayano, now caught up in a playful chase with Karasuke and Chorosuke, giggled and ran around the room. Togo felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of fulfillment he hadn't experienced in a long time. Ayano was thriving, finding her place among family who cared for her deeply.

As the evening wore on and Togo began to reconcile himself with the idea of letting Ayano forge her own path, he couldn't shake the underlying sense of apprehension. He watched Ayano, Karasuke, and Chorosuke play together with a mixture of pride and a growing acceptance that she would inevitably grow more independent.

"She's gonna be alright," Togo muttered to himself, trying to convince his own heart as much as anyone else.

Just as he was starting to relax into this new mindset, a sudden cry of pain pierced the air. Togo's head snapped around instinctively, his eyes locking onto Ayano who had tipped over and scraped her knee on the floor. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and striding across the room in long, purposeful strides.

Ayano sat on the floor, her small hand clutching her knee as she winced in pain. Togo knelt beside her, his expression a mix of concern and relief that he was there for her when she needed him most.

"You alright, sweetie?" Togo's voice was softer than usual, the gruff edges smoothed by genuine worry.

Ayano looked up at him, her stoic facade briefly cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. She nodded silently, but the pain in her gaze spoke volumes.

Togo gently lifted her into his arms, cradling her as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. He carried her to the couch, his movements careful and deliberate. "Let me take a look at that," he murmured, inspecting her scraped knee.

Runosuke appeared with a first aid kit, his eyes filled with understanding. "Here, this should help."

Togo took the kit, his hands surprisingly steady as he cleaned and bandaged Ayano's knee. "Let's get this cleaned up," Togo said quietly, his focus entirely on Ayano's scraped knee.  He worked with a tenderness that belied his rough exterior, his focus entirely on making sure she was alright.

Runosuke chuckled softly from where he stood, watching the scene unfold with a knowing smile. "Looks like she's got you wrapped around her little finger, Togo."

Togo glanced up at his brother, a mix of resignation and affection in his eyes. "Yeah, well... She's my baby girl, ain't she?" Runosuke chuckled, his smile widening.

"There you go, all fixed up," Togo said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re a tough one, huh?"

Ayano nodded, her tears subsiding as she looked up at him with a mixture of gratitude and trust. "Thank you, Papa."

Togo's heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. He brushed a hand over her hair, smoothing it back gently. "Anytime, sweetie."

Karasuke and Chorosuke hovered nearby, their faces filled with concern. "Is Ayano okay?" Karasuke asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Togo nodded, his expression softening as he looked at his nephews. "She's fine. Just a little scrape. But maybe take it easy on the running for a bit, alright?"

The boys nodded, their relief evident. "Okay, ojisan. We'll be more careful," Chorosuke promised.

As Ayano settled back against the couch, Togo sat beside her, keeping her close. Runosuke watched them, a warm smile on his face. "You handled that well, little brother."

Togo shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Just doin’ what any dad would do."

That evening, as the house quieted down and the boys settled into their rooms, Togo prepared Ayano for bed. He carried her to the bathroom, his strong arms gentle as he set her down and started running a warm bath.

Ayano stood still, her eyes watching the water fill the tub. Togo tested the temperature with his hand, nodding in satisfaction before turning to her. "Alright, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up," he said, his gruff voice softening for her.

He helped her undress, handling her with the utmost care. Ayano stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water with a small sigh. Togo grabbed a washcloth and some soap, gently lathering it up before beginning to wash her.

As he worked, he glanced at her face, searching for any sign of discomfort. "So, what d’ya think of your uncle and your cousins, baby?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

Ayano looked up at him, her expression as neutral as ever, but there was a hint of thoughtfulness in her eyes. "They're nice," she said simply. "Karasuke-niisan and Chorosuke-niisan are fun. Uncle Runosuke is... big."

Togo chuckled at her description, his rough exterior momentarily cracking to reveal a warm smile. "Yeah, aniki’s a big guy. But he’s got a good heart, just like you, sweetie."

Ayano nodded, her gaze dropping to the water. "I like it here. It's... different."

"Different good or different bad?" Togo asked, rinsing the soap from her hair.

"Different good," she replied softly.

Togo's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and relief. He had worried about bringing her here, but seeing her starting to open up, even just a little, made it all worth it. "I'm glad, baby. You deserve to be happy."

Ayano looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the quiet trust she had in him. "As long as you're here, Papa."

Togo's chest tightened at her words. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. "I ain't goin' anywhere, Ayano. You’re stuck with me."

She gave a small nod, her fingers tracing the edge of the tub. "Good."

Togo finished washing her and lifted her out of the tub, wrapping her in a warm towel. He dried her off with care, then helped her into her pajamas. Carrying her to her room, he tucked her into bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Goodnight, sweetie," he murmured, his voice tender.

"Goodnight, Papa," Ayano replied, her eyes already starting to close.

Togo kissed her forehead before heading into the bathroom to take a shower. He smiled to himself, a rare expression of self-satisfaction crossing his usually stern features. He was doing a damn good job, but that didn't mean he couldn't do better.

The warm water cascaded over him, washing away the day's worries and tension. As he stood there, his thoughts lingered on Ayano and the small but significant steps she had taken today.

He replayed the moments in his mind—her playing with her cousins, the way she spoke about them, and her quiet but sincere trust in him. Each memory was a reminder of how far they had come and how much further they could go.

Togo knew he still had a lot to learn about being a father, but he was determined to be the best he could for Ayano. He wasn't perfect, but he was willing to work hard and improve every day. 

The next day, a sunny afternoon beckoned with the promise of leisure and fun. The boys were eager to introduce Ayano to one of their favorite pastimes: swimming. Runosuke's backyard pool, a hub of activity and laughter, had long been a place where Chorosuke and Karasuke honed their swimming skills under their father's watchful eye.

Togo changed Ayano into her swimwear, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he applied sunscreen to her delicate skin. He made sure to cover every exposed area, taking extra care around her face. Ayano stood still, her expression neutral, trusting him implicitly.

"You all set, sweetheart?" Togo asked, giving her a reassuring smile.

Ayano nodded, clutching her stuffed rabbit for a moment before setting it aside carefully. She allowed Togo to guide her towards the pool where her cousins were already splashing around, their laughter filling the air.

Chorosuke and Karasuke greeted her enthusiastically, their excitement palpable. "Come on, Ayano-chan! The water's great!" Karasuke called out, waving her over.

"Yeah, you'll love it!" Chorosuke added, swimming up to the edge and extending a hand to her.

Togo watched as Ayano approached the pool, feeling a pang of anxiety. He remembered all too well that Ayano did not know how to swim, and the pool was seven feet deep. Togo's eyes were glued to Ayano as she stood at the pool's edge, her small figure framed by the bright, clear water and the eager faces of her cousins. He knew this was a significant moment for her, a step towards integrating into a world that was still relatively new and strange to her.

Ayano glanced back at Togo, her usually neutral expression showing the slightest hint of apprehension. Togo nodded at her, his voice gentle but firm. "Go on, sweetheart. Your cousins'll take good care of ya."

Ayano, standing by the pool, watched her older cousins race each other with practiced ease. Their laughter and shouts of excitement filled the air, a stark contrast to her own quiet contemplation. She didn't want to ruin their fun by asking for more attention, so she simply observed, feeling a strange mix of admiration and longing.

Her gaze drifted back to Togo, who was deep in conversation with Runosuke by the patio. She bit her lip, hesitant to interrupt them. Papa was busy, and she didn’t want to be a bother. Determined to be brave, she decided she would learn to swim on her own.

With a deep breath, Ayano took a step into the pool. The cool water enveloped her, but she felt her feet touch the bottom of the shallow end. Encouraged by the sensation, she took another step, moving deeper into the pool.

However, as she ventured further, the water level rose quickly, and soon her feet couldn't touch the bottom anymore. Panic surged through her small body as she began to sink. She tried to mimic the movements she had seen earlier, but without any real experience or guidance, she quickly found herself struggling to stay afloat. Water filled her mouth and nose, and her small hands flailed uselessly in the water.

Meanwhile, Togo had just finished helping his brother and was about to head back to the pool. As he approached, he noticed something amiss. Ayano was nowhere to be seen. His heart skipped a beat, and a sense of dread settled in his chest.

"Where's Ayano?" he called out, his voice carrying a note of urgency.

Karasuke and Chorosuke looked around, confused. "She was just here a moment ago," Chorosuke said, concern creeping into his voice.

Togo's eyes scanned the pool area frantically. He looked towards the patio, but she wasn't there. His pulse quickened as he moved faster, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong.

"AYANO!" Togo's voice boomed, causing his nephews to freeze. The playful atmosphere evaporated instantly, replaced by a tense, anxious silence.

Suddenly, Karasuke pointed to a spot in the pool. "There! I think I see something!"

Togo didn't waste a second. He dove into the water with the strength and precision of a man used to emergencies. His powerful strokes brought him to the bottom of the pool where he saw Ayano, her small body limp and eyes wide with fear.

He grabbed her and pushed off the bottom, surfacing quickly and pulling her to the edge. Runosuke was already there, helping to lift Ayano out of the water. Togo's heart pounded in his chest as he checked her over, his hands shaking slightly. She coughed up water, gasping for air, and he cradled her close, relief flooding through him.

"Ayano, you okay, baby?" Togo's voice was rough, a mixture of fear and tenderness.

Ayano nodded weakly, her small hands clutching his shirt. "I... I wanted to learn... to swim," she said between coughs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Togo's relief quickly turned to frustration, his fear manifesting as anger. "Ayano, what were you thinkin'? You could've drowned!" His voice was harsher than he intended, the words coming out in a rough bark. "Why couldn't you just wait for me and ask for help?"

Ayano flinched at the tone, her eyes wide with surprise. She had never heard her papa speak to her like this before. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before Togo could react, she scrambled out of his arms and ran inside the house.

"Ayano, wait!" Togo called after her, but his voice was still too sharp, too rough. He watched her retreating figure, his heart sinking as he saw her disappear into the house. He sat there for a moment, the weight of his words heavy on his chest. He hadn't meant to scare her, but the fear of almost losing her had overwhelmed him.

Runosuke, who had been watching silently, placed a hand on Togo's shoulder. "Give her a moment, Togo. She needs to calm down, and so do you."

Togo nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to yell at her like that," he muttered, his voice thick with regret.

Inside the house, Ayano found a quiet corner and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. She was trembling, her mind replaying the harsh words. She had only wanted to learn to swim, to be like her cousins. But now she felt like she had done something terribly wrong.

She thought about her mean mommy and daddy, how they would yell at her and hurt her. She didn't want her papa to become like them. The fear and confusion swirled inside her, making her feel small and helpless.

Minutes passed, and Togo finally stood up, taking a deep breath. He needed to fix this, to make Ayano understand that he hadn't meant to scare her. He walked into the house, searching for his daughter. When he found her, huddled in a corner, his heart broke at the sight.

"Ayano," he said softly, kneeling down beside her. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to yell at you. I was just scared. I was scared that I almost lost you."

Ayano pulled back slightly, her eyes still filled with tears but now also holding a spark of defiance. "Papa is just like mommy and daddy," she said, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and anger. "I hate you."

Togo felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Her words cut deep, the pain evident in his eyes. He didn't know what to say, how to fix the hurt he had caused. He gently released Ayano, his hands trembling. "I'm so sorry, Ayano," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

He stood up slowly, every step feeling like he was walking through thick mud. He needed to give her space, but it tore him apart to walk away. Without another word, he left the room, his heart heavy with regret.

Togo found Runosuke outside, sitting on the patio. He slumped into the chair next to his brother, running a hand over his face. "I fucked up, aniki," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I really fucked up."

Runosuke looked at him with understanding eyes. "What happened?"

Togo sighed deeply, staring at the ground. "She said I was just like her mommy and daddy. That she hates me. I scared her, and I didn't mean to. I don't know how to fix this."

Runosuke nodded, taking in his brother's pain. "Kids say things when they're hurt or scared. It doesn't mean she really hates you."

Togo shook his head, frustration and sorrow etched into his features. "I can't stand the thought of her being scared of me. I don't want to be anything like those assholes."

Runosuke placed a reassuring hand on Togo's shoulder. "I'll talk to her. Sometimes kids need to hear it from someone else. Just give her some time, and don't be too hard on yourself."

Togo glanced at his brother, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, aniki. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Runosuke smiled, giving Togo's shoulder a comforting squeeze before standing up and heading inside. He found Ayano still in the corner where Togo had left her, her small frame shaking with silent sobs.

"Hey, sweetheart," Runosuke said softly, his voice gentle and soothing. "It's ojisan. Can we talk for a minute?"

Ayano looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. "I don't want to talk to Papa," she whispered.

"I know," Runosuke replied, his heart aching for the little girl. "But can you talk to me? Just for a bit?"

Ayano hesitated, then nodded slowly. Runosuke took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again.

Runosuke sat down beside her, his voice calm and soothing. "You know, your papa loves you very much. He didn't mean to scare you. He was just really worried about you."

Ayano sniffled, her lower lip trembling. "But he yelled at me... just like mommy and daddy did."

Runosuke sighed softly, understanding the depth of her fear. "I know, and that wasn't right. But your papa is nothing like them. He would never hurt you on purpose. He was just scared because he loves you so much."

Ayano looked down, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her dress. "I don't want him to be like them."

"And he won't be," Runosuke assured her. "He's trying his best, just like you are. It's okay to be scared and upset, but it's also important to understand that he's doing his best to keep you safe."

Ayano nodded slowly, the anger and fear in her eyes beginning to fade. "I just want him to be nice," she whispered.

"He will be," Runosuke promised, smiling gently. "And I'll talk to him about it too. We're all learning, Ayano-chan. Just remember that your papa loves you very much."

Ayano wiped her eyes again, her expression softening. "Okay," she said quietly.

Runosuke patted her head affectionately. "That's my girl. Now, why don't we go find your papa and let him know you're okay?"

Ayano nodded, standing up and taking Runosuke's hand. They walked back outside, where Togo was waiting anxiously. As soon as he saw Ayano, he stood up, his heart in his throat.

Karasuke and Chorosuke, their eyes gleaming with excitement, swam up to the edge of the pool. “Ayano-chan, do you want to play with us in the pool?” Karasuke asked, his enthusiasm evident.

Chorosuke nodded eagerly, adding, “Yeah, we can teach you some cool moves!”

Ayano looked up at Togo, her expression neutral but with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “Papa, can I play with them?”

Togo hesitated, his protective instincts flaring up, he didn't want another accident. “Hold on a sec, boys,” he called out, his voice gruff yet laced with concern. “Ayano don’t know how to swim.”

Runosuke, who had been watching from the patio, approached with a calm smile. "Don't worry, Togo. The boys will take care of her. They've been swimming since they could walk."

Togo frowned, his eyes never leaving Ayano as she dipped a toe into the water. "Still, I ain't lettin' her go in there alone."

Runosuke nodded, understanding his brother's concern. "Of course. How about you get in with her? Show her the ropes."

Togo sighed but agreed, joining Ayano at the edge of the pool, his intimidating presence a stark contrast to the playful atmosphere around them. He knelt beside her, his voice softening as he spoke. "Alright, baby, let's take it slow, okay? I'll be right here with ya."

Ayano nodded, her small hand slipping into his. Together, they stepped into the shallow end of the pool. Togo held her securely, his strong arms a safety net as she waded into the water. 

"Alright, sweetie, first thing you gotta know is how to float," Togo said, his voice softening as he explained. "Lie back, and I'll hold you up. Just trust me, okay?"

Ayano looked up at him, her expression neutral but her eyes trusting. She did as he said, her small body relaxing against the buoyancy of the water. Togo's hands supported her, keeping her steady as she floated.

"Good, Ayano. Just like that," he encouraged, his gruff voice filled with pride. "You're doin' great."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pool, Karasuke and Chorosuke were whispering to each other, their eyes glinting with mischief. "Hey, Chorosuke," Karasuke whispered, his eyes glinting with mischief. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Chorosuke grinned, nodding eagerly. "Yep. Let's get pops in here."

They moved quietly to the edge of the pool where Runosuke was standing, watching over the scene with a proud smile. The boys whispered to each other, forming a quick plan.

Meanwhile, Togo continued teaching Ayano, his voice steady and reassuring. "Great job, baby. Now, let's try kicking your feet while you float. Just like you're riding a bike, okay?"

Ayano followed his instructions, her movements tentative but growing more confident with each passing moment. Togo's heart swelled with pride. "That's my girl," he said, a rare smile breaking through his usually stern expression.

Karasuke and Chorosuke, their plan set, approached their father with innocent expressions. "Hey, pops," Karasuke called out, "can you help us with a new trick we want to show Ayano-chan?"

Runosuke raised an eyebrow, suspecting his sons' intentions but playing along. "A new trick, huh? What kind of trick?"

Chorosuke chimed in, "It's a surprise! You have to come to the edge of the pool to see it."

Runosuke chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, you two troublemakers. Let's see this trick."

As Runosuke moved closer to the edge, the boys shared a conspiratorial grin. Just as he leaned over, Chorosuke and Karasuke each grabbed one of his arms and, with a burst of combined effort, pulled him into the pool.

There was a splash and a brief moment of underwater chaos before Runosuke surfaced, sputtering and laughing. "You little rascals!" he exclaimed, shaking the water from his hair. "I'll get you for that!"

Karasuke and Chorosuke dissolved into fits of laughter, swimming away from their father with playful shrieks. The commotion drew Togo and Ayano's attention, and Togo couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his older brother being outwitted by his sons.

"Looks like the kids got the drop on ya, aniki," Togo called out, still chuckling.

Runosuke grinned, his laughter mingling with the children's. "Yeah, yeah. Just wait until I catch them," he said, playfully chasing after his sons.

Togo turned back to Ayano, who was watching the scene with a faint smile on her usually expressionless face. He felt a warmth in his chest, seeing her relaxed and happy. “Don’t you get any ideas from your cousins, you hear me?” he said, his tone gruff but teasing. “I don’t need you pulling pranks on me, too.”

Ayano looked up at him, her expression as calm and emotionless as ever. “I wouldn’t, Papa,” she said, her voice steady. But there was something in her tone, a faint undercurrent that sent a chill down Togo’s spine. It wasn’t what she said, but the way she said it—almost too calm, too certain.

Togo narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her. “Alright, then,” he said, trying to shake off the feeling, continuing their practice. With Togo's guidance, Ayano began to practice her strokes, her movements becoming more fluid and confident. The laughter and playful splashes of her cousins and uncle added to the lively atmosphere, making her feel more at ease.

Togo watched Ayano swim back and forth in the shallow end of the pool, his eyes following her every movement. She was getting better with each lap, her strokes becoming more confident and coordinated. Pride swelled in his chest as he watched his little girl navigate the water with increasing ease.

"That's it, sweetheart," he called out, his rough voice filled with warmth. "Keep goin'. You're doin' great."

Ayano reached the edge of the pool and turned to swim back, her small body cutting through the water with determination. When she finally reached Togo again, she paused, looking up at him with her usual calm expression. He gave her an encouraging nod, feeling a surge of pride.

"You're a natural, sweetie," he said, his smile genuine. Togo watched her for a moment longer, then forced a smile and gave her a gentle nudge towards the pool. “Go on, then. Have fun with your cousins.”

As Ayano joined Karasuke and Chorosuke in the water, Togo couldn’t shake the lingering sense of unease. He turned to Runosuke, who had finally managed to catch his breath after the boys’ prank.

“You see that?” Togo said quietly, nodding towards Ayano. “She said she wouldn’t pull any pranks, but there was somethin’ off about it.”

Runosuke raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ayano. “You think she’s planning something?”

Togo shook his head, trying to brush off the uneasy feeling. “Nah, probably just my mind playin’ tricks on me,” he muttered, more to himself than to Runosuke.

Inside, dinner preparations were underway, and the atmosphere was relaxed as they dried off and changed out of their swimwear. Togo had almost convinced himself that Ayano was just being her usual reserved self, when suddenly, chaos erupted outside.

As Togo stepped onto the patio, a barrage of water balloons came flying at him from all directions. He barely had time to react before he was drenched, water dripping from his hair and clothes. Laughter erupted around him, and he looked up to see Ayano, Karasuke, and Chorosuke standing together, grinning mischievously.

“What the hell!” Togo exclaimed, trying to shield himself from the onslaught of water balloons.

Karasuke and Chorosuke continued to pelt him with balloons, their laughter infectious.

Togo sputtered, trying to shake the water from his hair. He glanced at Ayano, who was watching him with a small, satisfied smile. “Ayano!” he exclaimed, trying to sound stern but failing to hide a hint of amusement. “What did I tell you about pulling pranks?”

Ayano’s expression remained calm, though a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes. “You said not to pull pranks on you, Papa,” she replied innocently. “But you didn’t say anything about pulling pranks with Karasuke-niisan and Chorosuke-niisan.”

Togo’s surprise quickly turned to amusement as he realized what had happened. “You little rascals,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to trust you three.”

Before Togo could react, Karasuke and Chorosuke lunged at him, their small hands pushing him playfully towards the edge of the pool. Togo stumbled backward, his balance lost as he teetered on the edge. With a final shove from his nephews, he toppled into the water with a splash.

Togo surfaced, wiping water from his eyes and laughing despite himself. He glanced at Runosuke, who was watching the scene unfold with amusement. “I guess they got me good, huh?” he said with a grin.

Runosuke, watching from the patio, burst into laughter. “Told you she’d figure it out. Looks like you’ve got your hands full, Togo.”

Togo wiped the water from his face, his stern expression softening as he looked at Ayano. Despite the prank, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. She had orchestrated the whole thing with her cousins, proving that she could be as playful and clever as any other child.

Ayano’s expression was calm, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. She had pulled off the prank without a hitch, and Togo could see that she was pleased with herself.

“Alright, alright,” Togo said, swimming to the edge of the pool and pulling himself out. “You got me. Good job, kids.”

Ayano stepped forward, her small hand reaching out to help him up. “Sorry, Papa. We just wanted to have some fun.”

Togo took her hand, his grip gentle. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just… maybe warn me next time, yeah?”

Ayano nodded, her expression softening. “I will, Papa.”

As Togo stood, dripping wet and still a bit stunned, he looked at his daughter and her cousins with a mix of exasperation and affection. They had managed to surprise him, and in doing so, had brought a bit more laughter and joy into their lives.

Runosuke clapped Togo on the back, grinning. “Looks like she’s fitting in just fine.”

Togo nodded, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, she is. And I couldn’t be prouder.”

As the day drew to a close, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over Runosuke's backyard. The children's laughter and splashes gradually subsided, replaced by the soothing hum of evening crickets. It was time to end their fun-filled day, and the adults began the task of getting everyone cleaned up and ready for bed.

After helping Ayano out of the pool, Togo wrapped her in a soft towel, gently drying her off. He then guided her inside, where he carefully bathed her, washing away the chlorine and leaving her skin soft and fresh. Ayano, exhausted from the day's activities, remained still and compliant, her eyes drooping with sleepiness.

Meanwhile, Runosuke was in the bathroom with Karasuke and Chorosuke, who were equally tired from their energetic day. After ensuring his sons were thoroughly washed and dressed in their pajamas, he scooped them both up, one on each arm. Both boys were already nodding off, their heads resting on their father's broad shoulders.

Togo finished bathing Ayano and dressed her in her favorite pajamas. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to stay awake. He picked her up, her small body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm. She nestled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, the familiar scent of her freshly washed hair filling the air.

As Togo carried Ayano out of the bathroom, he spotted Runosuke in the hallway, his nephews fast asleep in his arms. The sight made Togo chuckle softly. "Looks like your boys are knocked out," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement.

Runosuke grinned, adjusting his hold on the sleeping boys. "Yeah, they gave it their all today. I'm just glad they had a good time."

Togo nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with his brother. "Same here. Ayano had a blast. Thanks for having us over, aniki."

Runosuke gave a warm smile. "Anytime, Togo. Family's always welcome."

They walked together to the children's bedrooms. Runosuke gently laid Karasuke and Chorosuke in their beds, tucking them in with a practiced hand. The boys barely stirred, their faces peaceful in sleep. Runosuke leaned down and kissed each of them on the forehead before quietly leaving the room.

Togo carried Ayano to the guest room where they were staying. He laid her down on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Ayano's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, and she reached out, her tiny hand finding his.

"Papa," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with trust.

Togo smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm right here, baby. You sleep tight now."

Ayano's eyes closed, her breathing evening out as she drifted off to sleep. Togo sat beside her for a moment, watching her with a sense of profound love and protectiveness. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, my little swan."

As Togo left the room, he found Runosuke waiting for him in the hallway. They shared a knowing look, the bond between them strengthened by their shared responsibilities and love for their children.

"Want a drink?" Runosuke asked, gesturing toward the kitchen.

"Sure," Togo replied, following his brother. "I could use one after today."

They settled in the kitchen, each with a glass of whiskey. The day's events had left them both tired but content. They talked quietly, sharing stories and reminiscing about their own childhoods, their laughter mingling with the quiet night sounds.

Eventually, the conversation lulled, and they sat in comfortable silence, the bond between them unspoken but deeply felt. Togo glanced down the hallway, where Ayano slept peacefully, feeling grateful for moments like these.

"Thanks again, aniki," Togo said, raising his glass in a small toast.

Runosuke clinked his glass against Togo's. "To family," he said, a smile playing on his lips.

"To family," Togo echoed, taking a sip of his drink.

As the night wore on, they stayed up, enjoying the quiet companionship and the knowledge that their family, despite the chaos and dangers of their world, was safe and together. And for Togo, that was all that mattered.

The next morning dawned bright and early, the sunlight streaming through the windows of Runosuke's home. The peaceful quiet of the previous night had given way to the cheerful clamor of children waking up and the aroma of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. Togo stirred awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and glanced over to see Ayano still asleep beside him. He felt a warmth in his chest as he watched her peaceful face, the rise and fall of her small chest reassuring him.

Slowly and quietly, Togo got up and dressed, careful not to wake Ayano. He headed to the kitchen, where Runosuke was already up, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand. "Morning," Togo greeted, his voice still gruff from sleep.

"Morning, little brother," Runosuke replied with a smile. "Sleep well?"

Togo nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Yeah, thanks. The kids still asleep?"

"Not for long, I bet," Runosuke said with a chuckle. "Those boys of mine wake up with the sun."

Sure enough, moments later, Karasuke and Chorosuke burst into the kitchen, their energy boundless. "Ojisan!" they exclaimed, racing to give him quick hugs before turning their attention to the stack of pancakes on the table.

Ayano woke up a little later, rubbing her eyes and looking adorably disheveled. Togo went to her side immediately, helping her out of bed and into the kitchen. He served her a plate of pancakes, making sure she had everything she needed. Ayano ate quietly, her expression as serene as always.

After breakfast, the children were eager to play outside. Runosuke had a spacious backyard, complete with a small playground, and the boys were already climbing the jungle gym. Ayano watched them, her curiosity piqued.

"Go on, Ayano," Togo encouraged, though he stayed close by, his eyes never leaving her.

Ayano approached the jungle gym cautiously, her expression unreadable. She began to climb, her movements slow and deliberate. Togo stood nearby, ready to intervene at the slightest hint of danger.

"You're doing great, Ayano!" Karasuke called out from the top of the structure.

As she climbed higher, Togo's heart pounded in his chest, after yesterday's mishaps, he was prepared to make sure it wouldn't happen again. He fought the urge to hover directly beneath her, forcing himself to take a few steps back. He knew he needed to let her explore and learn, but it was easier said than done.

Runosuke noticed his brother's tension and walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Togo, you've got to let her learn. She won't always have you right there to catch her."

Togo frowned, his protective instincts warring with the logic of his brother's words. "I know. I just... I can't stand the thought of her getting hurt."

"I get it," Runosuke said gently. "But a few scrapes and bruises won't break her. They'll make her stronger."

Just then, Ayano reached the top of the jungle gym. She looked down at Togo, her face impassive but her eyes holding a hint of pride. Togo managed a smile, giving her a thumbs-up. "Great job, sweetie."

Ayano began to climb down, and Togo's muscles tensed with every step she took. When her foot slipped slightly, he instinctively moved forward, but Ayano quickly regained her footing. She made it to the ground safely, and Togo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

As the day went on, Togo continued to struggle with his overprotectiveness. He hovered close by as Ayano played, intervening whenever he thought she might be in danger. Runosuke scolded him several times, reminding him to let Ayano experience things on her own. Togo listened, but his heart wouldn't let him fully relax.

At one point, Ayano tripped and fell while running with her cousins. Togo was there in an instant, lifting her up and checking for injuries. "Are you okay, Ayano? Did you hurt yourself?"

Ayano shook her head, her face calm as always. "I'm okay, Papa."

Runosuke sighed, walking over to his brother. "Togo, she needs to learn how to get back up on her own."

"I think it's about time we called it a day." Togo said quietly, turning to his brother.

Runosuke nodded in agreement, his gaze following his sons as they continued running around the yard. "Yeah, they've had their fill of adventure for one day."

Runosuke sighed, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "Alright, boys!" he called out to his sons. "It's time to call it a day. Wash up for dinner!"

Karasuke and Chorosuke groaned in unison, their playful protests echoing through the yard. "Aw, pops, just a little longer?" Karasuke pleaded.

"Yeah, please?" Chorosuke added, giving his best puppy-dog eyes.

Runosuke chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, you heard your old man. It's time to clean up. You can catch more fireflies tomorrow."

The boys sighed dramatically but didn't argue further. They trudged toward the house, their energy finally waning after a long day of play. Runosuke turned to Togo, a knowing smile on his face. "They'll thank us later when they don't fall asleep in their dinner."

Togo laughed, nodding. "Yeah, I bet." He looked over at Ayano, who was still trying to catch a firefly, her small hands reaching out gently. He felt a surge of affection for her, mixed with his constant protectiveness. "Come on, Ayano. Let's get you cleaned up too."

Ayano turned and walked over to him, her face calm and composed. Togo lifted her into his arms, feeling her tiny weight against his chest. He carried her inside, heading straight for the bathroom. Once there, he gently set her down and began running a bath, checking the water temperature to make sure it was just right.

As he helped Ayano undress, he spoke softly to her. "You had a good day, huh?"

Ayano nodded, her expression unchanged. "Yes, Papa."

Togo smiled, lifting her into the tub. He carefully washed her, making sure to clean off all the dirt and remnants of their day outside. Ayano remained still and compliant, her trust in him evident in every movement.

After the bath, Togo wrapped her in a warm towel, drying her off and helping her into her pajamas. Her small frame looked even tinier in the oversized, fluffy sleepwear. Once she was dressed, Togo lifted her into his arms again and carried her to the dining room, where the table was already set for dinner.

Runosuke and his sons were waiting, their eyes lighting up when they saw Togo and Ayano enter the room. "There she is," Runosuke said with a warm smile. "Ready for some dinner, Ayano?"

Ayano nodded, her expression calm as always. Togo set her down in a chair, making sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat beside her. The room filled with the comforting aromas of miso soup, grilled fish, and steamed rice.

They ate together, the atmosphere relaxed and familial. Karasuke and Chorosuke chatted animatedly about their day, recounting their adventures with Ayano. Togo listened with a smile, his eyes often drifting to his daughter to make sure she was eating well.

After dinner, Runosuke leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. "Alright, boys. You know the drill. Time to wash the dishes."

The boys groaned but got up obediently, clearing the table with practiced efficiency. As they started to carry the dishes to the sink, Karasuke turned to Ayano. "Hey, Ayano-chan, wanna help us wash the dishes?"

Ayano looked at Togo, her expression neutral but her eyes questioning. Togo hesitated, his protective instincts flaring up. "I don't know if—"

"Come on, Togo," Runosuke interrupted gently. "It's just dishes. She'll be fine."

Togo took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright, Ayano. You can help."

Karasuke beamed and led Ayano to the sink, where Chorosuke was already filling the basin with warm, soapy water. "Here, Ayano-chan," Karasuke said, handing her a dish. "I'll show you how to scrub, and Chorosuke will rinse."

Ayano took the dish and the sponge, watching Karasuke intently as he demonstrated the proper technique. She mimicked his movements with a precision that made Togo smile. Chorosuke stood beside her, ready to rinse the soap off once she was done.

Togo leaned against the counter, keeping a watchful eye on them but feeling a sense of pride as he saw Ayano learning and participating. The boys worked together seamlessly, their camaraderie evident in their easy banter and shared laughter.

"You're doing great, Ayano-chan," Chorosuke said, his voice full of encouragement. "See, it's not so hard, right?"

Ayano nodded, her expression focused as she scrubbed the next dish. Togo's heart swelled with pride and affection. He knew he had to let go a little, to allow her to grow and learn, even if it meant facing small risks.

As the children continued their task, Runosuke came over to stand beside Togo. "See? She's capable, and my boys are good teachers," Runosuke said, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Yeah," Togo admitted, his voice softening. "I guess I'm just not used to it yet."

"You'll get there," Runosuke assured him. "Just take it one step at a time."

Togo nodded, watching Ayano with a mixture of pride and tenderness. She was growing, learning, and becoming a part of a family that loved her. And Togo knew that, with his brother's support, he could learn to let her spread her wings, even if just a little bit at a time.

After the dishes were done, the boys excitedly grabbed Ayano's hands and began pulling her towards their bedroom. "Come on, Ayano-chan! We're gonna read scary stories before bed!" Karasuke exclaimed.

Togo watched, a mixture of amusement and concern flickering in his eyes. Remembering Ayano's fear of monsters, he decided to tag along. "I'll come with you guys," he said, earning a grin from Runosuke.

They all gathered in the boys' bedroom, the space illuminated by a dim lamp that cast eerie shadows on the walls. Karasuke and Chorosuke took their places on the bed, while Ayano settled next to Togo on the floor, clutching her stuffed animal tightly.

"Alright, tonight's story is about Frankenstein's monster," Karasuke began, his voice low and dramatic. Chorosuke chimed in, adding spooky sound effects as Karasuke told the tale of the creature brought to life by a mad scientist, who roamed the countryside in search of revenge.

As the story progressed, Togo could feel Ayano's grip on his shirt tightening. Her wide eyes were fixed on Karasuke, absorbing every word. He put a reassuring arm around her, feeling her small body tremble slightly.

"...and then, Frankenstein's monster appeared at the window, its ghastly face peering through the glass," Karasuke concluded, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Ready to snatch anyone who wasn't careful."

Chorosuke added with a mischievous grin, "Goodnight, Ayano-chan. Better watch out for Frankenstein's monster out your window."

Ayano's eyes darted towards the window, her fear evident even in her emotionless expression. Togo glared at the boys, his protective instincts flaring up. "Alright, that's enough of that," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

Karasuke and Chorosuke chuckled, clearly having enjoyed scaring their new cousin. "Goodnight, Ayano-chan," they said in unison, still grinning.

Togo lifted Ayano into his arms, her grip on his shirt never loosening. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed." He carried her back to the guest room, her small body clinging to him like a lifeline.

Once in the guest room, Togo set Ayano down on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. He sat beside her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "You okay, Ayano?" he asked gently.

She nodded, but her eyes kept flicking towards the window. Togo could see the fear lingering in her gaze. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to reassure her further. "Ayano," he began softly. "You know, no one's actually smart enough to make a real Frankenstein's monster. It's just a story."

Ayano looked up at him, her eyes wide but curious. Togo continued, hoping to calm her fears. "I read the book when I was in high school. It's about a guy named Victor Frankenstein who was really smart and curious. He wasn't a bad guy, just too curious for his own good."

He watched as Ayano's expression shifted from fear to interest. "Victor's the main character," he explained. "He's the one who made all the choices and faced the consequences. The 'monster' was just a result of his actions."

Ayano seemed to relax, her grip on Togo's shirt loosening a bit. "Victor Frankenstein," she repeated softly, her eyes reflecting her newfound interest.

"Yeah, he wanted to create life, so he made this 'monster' out of different body parts. But it didn't turn out the way he expected." Togo said with a smile. "And there were other characters too, like Elizabeth, who was Victor's love interest. She was kind and gentle, and she loved Victor a lot. There was Henry Clerval, Victor's best friend, he was always there for Victor when he needed him the most,"

Ayano listened intently, her fear of the monster dissipating as she became more engrossed in the story. By the end, Togo could see that she was no longer afraid but rather fascinated by the characters and their roles.

"You know," Togo said thoughtfully, "one day, you might meet someone like Victor. And you could be their Elizabeth."

Ayano shook her head firmly. "No, Papa. I don't want to be Elizabeth. I want to be Victor."

Togo chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. "Alright then, Victoria," he said, giving her a new nickname. "You can be whoever you want to be. Just remember, with great power comes great responsibility."

Ayano nodded, a small smile playing on her lips for the first time that evening. "I'll remember, Papa."

Togo kissed her forehead, feeling a sense of peace settle over them both. "Goodnight, Victoria," he whispered, holding her close.

"Goodnight, Papa," she replied softly, finally closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. She snuggled closer to Togo, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

 Ayano glanced at Togo, she felt a surge of gratitude. It wasn't just about being sheltered or protected—it was about being seen and accepted for who she was, fears and all. 

And so, in the quiet of that evening, Ayano allowed herself to bask in the warmth of belonging, her heart finally at peace in the embrace of a family forged not by blood, but by choice and love.

Chapter Text

In the quiet moments between their daily routines, Togo took it upon himself to teach Ayano important skills. One of those lessons was how to use a first aid kit. Sitting her down at the kitchen table, he opened the small white box and began to explain the contents with a gentle but serious tone.

"Ayano," Togo began, his voice gentle but firm, "I'm gonna teach you how to use a first aid kit. It's important to know how to take care of yourself, especially if I'm not around."

Ayano nodded, her expression serious as she watched Togo carefully lay out the contents of the kit on the coffee table. Bandages, antiseptic wipes, gauze pads, medical tape, and a small pair of scissors were all neatly arranged.

"First," Togo said, picking up an antiseptic wipe, "if you get a cut or scrape, you need to clean it to prevent infection. Use one of these wipes to clean the wound. It might sting a little, but it's important."

He demonstrated on his own arm, tearing open the wipe and gently swiping it across his skin. Ayano watched intently, her eyes never leaving his hands.

"Next," he continued, "you cover the wound with a bandage or gauze pad. If it's a small cut, a bandage will do. For bigger wounds, use a gauze pad and tape to hold it in place."

He showed her how to apply a bandage, explaining each step clearly and slowly. Ayano mimicked his movements, her small hands surprisingly steady as she practiced on a pretend wound.

"Good job, Ayano," Togo praised, a proud smile tugging at his lips. "You're a quick learner."

Ayano's expression remained calm, but Togo could see a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. He moved on to explain how to handle minor burns, insect bites, and splinters, making sure she understood each procedure.

"If you ever get hurt and I'm not around, you'll know what to do," Togo said, his tone serious. "But remember, if it's something really bad, you need to get help right away. Find Runosuke or someone else you trust."

Ayano nodded again, absorbing every word. Togo reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately. "You're gonna be just fine, Ayano. You're strong and smart. I believe in you."

One afternoon later, Ayano rushed into the room where Togo was, clutching her beloved rabbit doll with distress in her demeanor. The doll had a tear along its seam, its fluffy stuffing poking out.

"Papa," Ayano said, her voice tinged with worry, "my rabbit's torn."

Togo glanced at the doll and then at Ayano, his expression softening. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he reassured her. "We can fix it together."

He gathered some materials—a needle, thread, and scissors—from a sewing kit and motioned for Ayano to sit beside him. "Alright, first thing you need to do is thread the needle," Togo explained, demonstrating how to carefully thread the small eye of the needle.

Ayano watched attentively, her curiosity piqued as Togo began to stitch the torn seam of the rabbit. His rough hands moved with surprising delicacy, the needle weaving in and out of the fabric in precise motions.

"Now, I'll show you how to do it," Togo said, handing the needle and thread to Ayano. "Take it slow and steady."

Ayano took the needle in her hands, her fingers small but steady as she attempted to mimic Togo's movements. At first, the stitches were uneven and shaky, but Togo encouraged her gently, guiding her through each step.

"You're doing great, Ayano," Togo praised, his voice warm with pride. "Keep going."

Ayano focused intently, her brow furrowing in concentration as she slowly sewed the torn seam back together. Togo watched her with admiration, seeing her determination and the spark of accomplishment in her eyes.

After a few more stitches, Ayano tied off the thread with a small knot, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. "I did it, papa," she said, holding up the repaired rabbit for Togo to see.

"You sure did," Togo replied, his own smile matching hers. "You're a natural."

Ayano hugged her rabbit tightly, her earlier worry forgotten. Togo ruffled her hair affectionately, feeling a swell of pride and love for the resilient girl who had become such an important part of his life.

"See, Ayano?" Togo said softly. "You can do anything you set your mind to."

Togo pushed open the heavy front door, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The dim hallway light flickered, casting shadows across his bloodied form. He had just come from a brutal encounter with a subordinate who had refused to be fired. The fight had been short but vicious, ending with Togo beating the man to a pulp. Yet, he hadn't come out unscathed. Blood trickled from a stab wound on his arm and another on his side.

He limped through the door, hoping Ayano was already asleep. The thought of her waiting up for him was a mix of comforting and troubling. As he limped into the dimly lit living room, the soft creak of the floorboards betrayed his presence.

"Papa?" Ayano's voice, soft and emotionless, broke the silence. Togo's heart sank as he saw her small figure by the door, her eyes wide with concern. She ran to him, her little hands reaching out to steady him.

"Hey, sweetie," Togo grunted, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "Didn't I tell ya to be in bed by now?"

Ayano ignored his words, her focus entirely on his injuries. She helped him to the couch, her tiny frame surprisingly strong. Togo sank into the cushions with a heavy sigh, wincing as the pain flared up.

"Papa is hurt," Ayano stated, her voice devoid of emotion but her actions speaking volumes. She fetched the first aid kit, her movements precise and deliberate. Togo watched her, a mixture of pride and guilt welling up inside him. He had taught her how to patch up injuries, never thinking she would need to use those skills on him.

"Just a scratch," Togo muttered, trying to downplay the severity of his wounds. But Ayano wasn't fooled. She sat beside him, her small hands already working to clean the blood and assess the damage.

"Hold still," she instructed, her tone firm yet gentle. Togo complied, watching her through half-lidded eyes as she threaded a needle. Her concentration was intense, her tiny brow furrowed in determination.

As she began to sew his wounds, Togo bit back a groan of pain. Ayano's hands were steady, her stitches neat and precise. He marveled at her skill, a stark contrast to her age. She was only six, yet she handled the task with a calm efficiency that spoke of maturity beyond her years.

"You're doin' good, baby," Togo murmured, his voice rough but affectionate. Ayano didn't respond, her focus unwavering. She worked silently, patching up his injuries with the care and precision he had taught her.

When she finished, she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any signs of discomfort. "Better?"

"Yeah, much better," Togo replied, his voice softening. He reached out, gently ruffling her hair. "Thanks, sweetie."

She nodded, her expression still neutral. But Togo saw the flicker of relief in her eyes, a brief glimpse of the emotions she kept hidden. She leaned against him, her small body warm and solid.

"Go on, get some sleep now," Togo said, his voice gruff but kind. "I'll be alright."

Ayano shook her head, a rare flicker of defiance in her usually emotionless eyes. This was the first time she had disobeyed him, and Togo felt a pang of surprise mixed with a strange pride. He tried to reassure her, his voice softer now.

"Really, baby, I'll be fine. You need your rest."

She stood there for a moment, her gaze steady and unwavering, then turned and walked away. Togo thought he had won the argument and let out a tired sigh, closing his eyes. The silence of the house settled around him, broken only by the faint rustling sounds coming from the hallway.

To his surprise, Ayano soon returned, her small arms laden with pillows, blankets, and her cherished squishmallows. She carefully arranged the pillows and blankets on the couch, creating a makeshift bed for both of them. Togo watched, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions he couldn't quite name.

"Ayano, you don't have to do this," he said, his voice thick with gratitude and a touch of helplessness. But Ayano ignored him, gently guiding him to lie against the pillows she had arranged. He winced slightly but allowed her to help him, feeling the warmth of her care in every small gesture.

Once he was settled, Ayano positioned herself on his uninjured arm, snuggling against him. Togo felt the softness of her squishmallows pressed between them, and the steady rhythm of her breathing began to calm him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.

"You're somethin' else, kid," Togo murmured, his voice rough but filled with a deep tenderness. Ayano didn't respond, but she nestled closer, her presence a comforting balm to his weary soul.

In the quiet of the night, with Ayano safely by his side, Togo felt a sense of peace he rarely experienced. Despite the pain and the chaos of his life, this moment—shared with the one person who truly mattered—made everything else fade away.

As sleep began to claim him, Togo pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Ayano's head, his voice barely above a whisper. "Goodnight, Ayano. Papa loves you."

Ayano's tiny hand clutched his shirt, her steady breathing the only response. In the darkness, surrounded by the warmth and comfort she had created, Togo finally allowed himself to rest.

Chapter Text

Over time, Togo began to notice a small but endearing pattern whenever he and Ayano went out to eat. Despite her usually emotionless demeanor, Ayano had a clear preference when it came to food choices—anything strawberry flavored. Whether it was drinks, desserts, or even candies, Ayano would always gravitate towards strawberry options.

One evening, Togo and Ayano found themselves at a cozy family restaurant. The menu was filled with various enticing options, but Togo’s eyes flicked to Ayano, curious to see what she would pick this time. Sure enough, when the waitress came to take their order, Ayano's eyes lingered on the strawberry milkshake and the strawberry shortcake.

"Strawberry milkshake and shortcake for the little lady," Togo said to the waitress, a small, proud smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The waitress took their orders and left, and Togo leaned back in his seat, observing Ayano with a soft expression that was a stark contrast to his usual harsh and intimidating demeanor.

"You really like strawberries, huh?" Togo remarked, his tone gentle and affectionate.

Ayano nodded, her eyes meeting his briefly before returning to the table. "They taste nice," she said simply, her voice almost a whisper.

Togo chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Well, you keep pickin' 'em, I'll keep buyin' 'em. Anything for my little girl."

Ayano's face remained neutral, but Togo knew her well enough to see the slight relaxation in her posture, the small sign that she was content and happy. It warmed his heart more than he could express.

When their orders arrived, Ayano’s eyes lit up just a little as she took her first sip of the strawberry milkshake, the cool sweetness making her pause to savor the flavor. Togo watched her, a sense of pride swelling within him. He loved seeing these small moments of joy in Ayano, even if she rarely showed it outwardly.

Later that night, as they walked home under the dim streetlights, Togo held Ayano's small hand in his, feeling the cool night air brush against them. He glanced down at her, his heart full.

"Strawberries, huh?" he said again, more to himself than to her. "Guess I'll have to keep an eye out for anything that has strawberries in it for my princess."

From that day on, Togo made it a point to keep an eye out for anything strawberry-flavored. Whether he was at the grocery store or a market stall, if he spotted something with strawberries, he’d buy it for Ayano and bring it home after work. He delighted in watching her enjoy these treats, even though she rarely showed her emotions. He could tell she was happy by the way her cheeks glowed with a faint rosy hue whenever she indulged in her favorite flavor.

One evening, Togo returned home with a small bag in hand. As he stepped through the door, Ayano was already there, waiting for him with her usual calm expression. Without a word, he handed her the bag. Inside, there was a strawberry-flavored yogurt drink and a pack of strawberry cookies.

"Here ya go, baby," Togo said, his voice softening. "Found these on my way home."

Ayano took the bag, her eyes lighting up just a bit as she examined the treats. "Thank you, papa," she said quietly, her gaze lifting to meet his.

Seeing the subtle joy in her eyes, Togo felt a surge of pride. "Anything for you, Ayano."

As the days went by, Togo’s gifts expanded beyond just food. He began to bring home clothes adorned with strawberries—dresses, sweaters, shoes, anything he thought she might like. Ayano’s wardrobe gradually transformed, each new addition a testament to Togo’s devotion.

One Saturday, Togo came home with a special gift: a beautiful dress covered in a strawberry print. He found Ayano reading quietly in the living room and approached her with the dress draped over his arm.

"Got somethin' for you," he said, holding it out for her to see.

Ayano looked up, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the dress. She set her book aside and reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers grazing over the vibrant strawberries.

"It's pretty," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Figured you'd like it," Togo replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "Why don't you try it on?"

Ayano nodded and took the dress from him, disappearing into her room for a few moments. When she returned, she was wearing the dress, and Togo couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at how lovely she looked.

"You look beautiful, Ayano," he said, his rough voice filled with genuine warmth.

Ayano’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, the closest she came to blushing. "Thank you, papa," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with appreciation.

Togo crouched down to her level, his gaze gentle as he looked at her. "You deserve all the strawberries in the world, sweetheart,"

As Ayano admired herself in the strawberry dress, Togo felt a wave of warmth and contentment. He watched her, knowing that each small gesture he made for her happiness was worth more than anything in the world.

"You know," Togo said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "tomorrow, I was thinkin' we could do somethin' special. How about I take you to a strawberry farm?"

Ayano's eyes widened ever so slightly, a rare display of genuine interest. "A strawberry farm?" she echoed, her tone calm but with a trace of curiosity.

"Yeah," Togo nodded, pleased with her reaction. "Figured you might like to see where all your favorite strawberries come from. We can pick our own and maybe make some fresh strawberry treats at home."

Ayano considered this for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. Then, with a small nod, she agreed. "I'd like that, papa."

The next morning, Togo woke Ayano early, making sure she was dressed warmly in her strawberry-themed attire. They drove out of the city, the urban landscape gradually giving way to rolling fields and orchards. Ayano looked out the window, taking in the unfamiliar scenery with silent fascination.

When they arrived at the strawberry farm, Togo paid for a couple of baskets and led Ayano to the rows of strawberry plants. The air was fresh, filled with the sweet scent of ripening berries. Togo crouched down beside Ayano, showing her how to carefully pick the strawberries without damaging the plants.

"See this?" he said, gently lifting a ripe strawberry. "You wanna pick it by the stem, like this. Keeps the fruit nice and fresh."

Ayano mimicked his actions, her small hands deftly plucking a berry and placing it in her basket. Togo watched her with pride, enjoying the simple pleasure of the moment.

They spent the morning moving through the rows, filling their baskets with bright red strawberries. Togo occasionally glanced at Ayano, noting how she seemed more relaxed and at ease in the peaceful surroundings.

After they had gathered a substantial haul, they made their way back to the farm's small market, where Togo bought them some fresh strawberry lemonade. They sat at a picnic table, sipping their drinks and enjoying the fruits of their labor.

As the sun began to set, they headed home, the car filled with the sweet scent of strawberries. Back in their kitchen, Togo showed Ayano how to make strawberry jam, their hands working together to wash, hull, and mash the berries. The process was slow and meticulous, but Ayano followed his instructions with her usual calm precision.

That evening, as they enjoyed fresh strawberry jam on toast, Togo looked across the table at Ayano, feeling a profound sense of contentment. As they sat together, finishing their strawberry jam on toast, the room was filled with a comfortable silence. Ayano looked up from her plate, her gaze steady and thoughtful.

"Papa," she began, her voice soft but clear. "You're the best papa in the whole wide world."

Togo froze, his heart skipping a beat. Ayano's words echoed in his mind, carrying a weight that he hadn't expected. She wasn't usually emotional or expressive, and hearing such a heartfelt sentiment from her struck him deeply. Ayano wasn’t even his daughter by blood, but the daughter of the woman he had loved and the man she married. Yet, here she was, calling him the best papa in the whole wide world.

For a moment, Togo struggled to find his voice. He felt an overwhelming surge of emotion, something he rarely allowed himself to feel. He looked at Ayano, her small face serious and sincere, and his heart melted.

"Ah, Ayano," he finally managed to say, his voice rough with emotion. "You don't know how much that means to me."

Ayano tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering. "Papa is always there for me. You take care of me. You make me happy."

Togo reached out, gently cupping her cheek with his rough hand. "And you make me happy too, sweetie. More than anything in this world."

Ayano leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. Togo swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. "You're my world, Ayano. I love you, and I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

Ayano opened her eyes, looking up at him with an intensity that belied her usual calm demeanor. "I love you too, papa."

Those words, so simple yet so profound, filled Togo with a sense of fulfillment he had never known. He pulled Ayano into his arms, holding her close, his heart swelling with love and pride. She was his daughter in every way that mattered, and he would cherish her always.

Chapter Text

Togo stepped out of the shower, steam billowing around him as he toweled off his hair. The day's grime and blood washed away, leaving his muscles aching but clean. He tossed the towel aside and pulled on a pair of pants, leaving his scarred, muscular torso bare. His life as a Yakuza Underboss was relentless, but moments like these offered a brief respite.

He walked into the living room, his heavy footsteps softened by the carpet. The room was dimly lit, the glow of the television casting a warm light. Swan Lake played on the screen, the elegant music a stark contrast to the brutality of his world. Ayano sat on the floor, her tiny frame hunched over as she concentrated on painting her nails.

Togo's heart softened at the sight. The little girl, emotionless and solemn to everyone else, was his world. A rare chuckle escaped his lips, drawing Ayano's attention. She looked up, her big eyes meeting his without a trace of fear.

"Hey, kiddo," Togo greeted, his voice rough but warm. He dropped onto the couch beside her, his weight making the cushions sink. "Need some help with those nails?"

Ayano silently nodded, holding up her small hands, the nail polish bottle clutched tightly. Togo took it from her, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he unscrewed the cap. He carefully took one of her hands in his, steadying it as he began to paint her nails with precision.

"Y'know, this ain't so different from detailin' a car," Togo said, his gruff voice tinged with amusement. "Gotta have a steady hand and an eye for the details."

Ayano watched intently as he painted, her usual stoic expression softening just a bit. She didn't speak, but her eyes followed his every move, absorbing the care and attention he gave to the task.

"There we go," Togo murmured as he finished, blowing gently on her nails to help them dry. He looked up at her, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What do you think?"

Ayano examined her painted nails, then nodded once, a small gesture of approval. Togo chuckled again, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Glad you like it, sweetheart."

She looked up at him, her big voided eyes thoughtful. "Papa," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, "can I paint your nails?"

Togo's initial reaction was a chuckle, followed by a shake of his head. "Ah, baby, you know the guys at work'll never let me hear the end of it," he said, imagining the jeers and laughter from his rough-and-tumble coworkers. "They'll make fun of me for sure."

Ayano didn't say anything, just looked at him with those big, emotionless eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. There was a silent plea in her gaze, one that tugged at his heartstrings in a way nothing else could.

He sighed, feeling his resistance crumble. "Alright, alright, you win," he grumbled, holding out his hands to her. "Go ahead and paint 'em. Just don't make 'em too flashy, alright?"

A faint flicker of something like satisfaction crossed Ayano's face as she took his hands in hers. With careful precision, she began to paint his nails, her tiny hands steady and sure. Togo watched her, a mixture of amusement and affection in his eyes.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," he commented, his voice softer now. "Maybe you got a future in the beauty business or somethin'."

Ayano didn't respond, her focus entirely on her task. She moved with the same deliberate care he had seen her use when she patched up his wounds, a trait she had undoubtedly picked up from him.

When she finished, Togo looked down at his hands, now adorned with neatly painted nails. The color was a soft, pale blue, nothing too flashy but still noticeable. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, look at that," he said, holding his hands up for her to see. "Not bad, sweetheart. Not bad at all."

Ayano nodded, a small but unmistakable sign of her approval. She settled back against him, her head resting on his chest. Togo wrapped his arm around her, his rough exterior softened by the simple act of letting his little girl paint his nails.

Ayano nodded, a small but unmistakable sign of her approval. She settled back against him, her head resting on his chest. Togo wrapped his arm around her, his rough exterior softened by the simple act of letting his little girl paint his nails. He glanced at his fingers, the pale blue polish a stark contrast to his scarred, calloused hands.

As they sat there, Togo felt a shift within himself. The thought of his coworkers making fun of him seemed less important now. If they dared to mock his nails, he'd just threaten to beat them up. After all, they were his baby's masterpiece, and no one had the right to ridicule that.

The next morning, Togo's day started like any other. As a Yakuza Underboss, he was used to the rough and tumble of his world. His painted nails, though, were a constant reminder of Ayano's presence, a small token of her love that he carried with him.

He walked into the headquarters, his presence immediately noticed by everyone. The usual murmurs and sideways glances were there, but he paid them no mind. Togo was a force to be reckoned with, and his reputation kept most comments to a minimum.

But that day, a confrontation with an enemy clan escalated quickly. Togo found himself in the midst of a brawl, fists flying and adrenaline pumping. He moved with the brutal efficiency that had earned him his position, taking down opponents with ease.

In the heat of the fight, one of his enemies caught sight of his painted nails. The man sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Nice nails, tough guy. Did your little princess do them for you?"

Togo's vision narrowed, the words striking a deep chord. His blood boiled, and a red haze descended over his vision. He saw Ayano's face in his mind, her small hands diligently painting his nails with such care and love. How dare anyone mock that?

With a roar of rage, Togo's berserk mode triggered. He became a whirlwind of fury, his movements faster and more violent than ever. He grabbed the man who had made the comment, his grip like a vise.

"You got somethin' to say about my nails?" Togo growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "These nails were painted by my little girl. You got a problem with that, you got a problem with me."

The enemy fighter struggled, but Togo's rage was unstoppable. He slammed the man against the wall, his eyes blazing with an intensity that silenced the entire room. The brawl came to a standstill as everyone watched in stunned silence.

"Next time you think about makin' fun of someone's nails, remember this," Togo hissed, his face inches from the terrified man's. "They ain't just polish. They're a sign of someone I love. And I'll kill anyone who disrespects that."

He released the man, who crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. Togo turned to face the rest of the enemy clan, his expression a mask of cold fury. "Anyone else got somethin' to say?"

The silence was deafening. No one dared to meet his gaze, much less speak. Togo's men looked at him with a mix of awe and respect, fully aware of the deadly seriousness behind his words.

With the enemy clan thoroughly subdued, Togo signaled for his men to finish the job. As they moved to secure the area, he took a moment to glance down at his nails. The pale blue polish was chipped and smeared with blood, but it still held the mark of Ayano's care.

As he walked away from the battlefield, Togo felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He had defended his daughter's honor in the most brutal way possible.

Chapter Text

Ayano stood by the window, her emotionless eyes observing the neighborhood kids riding their bikes up and down the street. Their laughter and shouts filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet inside the house where Togo was immersed in his work, a pile of papers and a few ominous-looking files spread out on the kitchen table.

She watched for a while, her gaze lingering on the bright, colorful bikes and the carefree way the children maneuvered them. Without a word, she turned and made her way to the garage where her own bike stood. It was a gift from Togo, a sturdy little thing with training wheels that he had meant to teach her to ride, but time and circumstances always seemed to get in the way.

Ayano didn’t want to bother her papa. He was busy, and she could figure it out on her own. She wheeled the bike out onto the sidewalk, the training wheels clattering slightly on the pavement. She climbed onto the seat, her small hands gripping the handlebars tightly, and pushed off, her feet awkwardly pedaling.

The bike wobbled, and she had trouble steering it straight. Ayano’s determination was evident in the way she pressed her lips together, focusing on keeping her balance. She pedaled faster, trying to catch up with the other kids, her heart beating a little faster with a mix of excitement and fear.

As she approached the end of the block, Ayano realized she didn’t know how to stop or turn properly. Panic set in as the bike swerved, heading straight for a lamppost. Before she could react, the front wheel hit the post, and she was thrown off the bike, landing hard on the ground.

The impact left her stunned, her breath knocked out of her. She lay there for a moment, the world spinning slightly, before she tried to sit up, her knee scraped and bleeding.

Togo, hearing the commotion from inside, rushed to the door. His imposing figure filled the doorway, his rough features set in a fierce scowl. "Ayano!" he called out, his voice gruff but tinged with concern. He hurried over to where she lay on the ground, his heart pounding.

Ayano lay still for a moment, assessing the situation. Slowly, she sat up, her expression unchanged despite the pain. She looked at Togo, who was now kneeling beside her, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

"Why didn't ya ask for help, kiddo?" Togo's voice was a mix of frustration and worry. He gently lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he stood up.

"I didn't want to bother Papa," Ayano said quietly, her voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill.

Togo held Ayano close in a warm embrace, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her small frame. She leaned into his chest, her stoic demeanor softening slightly under his comforting presence. The scrape on her knee stung, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache she felt inside for disappointing her papa.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Ayano murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to crash the bike."

Togo sighed, a heavy sound that spoke of the weight he carried on his shoulders, his rough hands gently cupping her small face. "Listen, sweetie," he began, his voice softening. "The bike don't matter. I can always get ya a new one."

He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around her tiny frame. "What matters is you. I couldn't possibly get a new baby girl," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Ayano nestled into his embrace, her small hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. She didn't fully understand the depth of his words, but she felt the warmth and safety that his presence always brought.

Togo held her close, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing against his chest. "You're my world, Ayano," he murmured, his rough exterior melting away in the face of his love for her. "Ain't nothin' more important than you."

Ayano remained silent, but her grip on him tightened slightly, a small but significant gesture. Togo felt a swell of pride and love for his little girl, a fierce determination to protect and care for her no matter what.

He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "How 'bout we forget 'bout that bike, get you cleaned up, and focus on getting ya some ice cream, huh?" he suggested, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Ayano nodded, the hint of a smile touching her own lips. "Okay, Papa."

Togo stood up, taking her hand and leading her back home, feeling a warmth in his chest that no amount of danger or violence could ever take away. His little girl was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

The clock struck midnight as Togo finally pushed open the door to his home. His rough exterior bore the marks of a long, grueling day, but his harsh features softened at the sight of Ayano waiting by the door. Clutched in one of his large, calloused hands was a box of strawberry shortcake, a peace offering for coming home so late.

"Hey princess," he said softly, a rare smile tugging at his lips. He stepped inside and knelt down to her level. "I'm sorry I'm late, baby." 

"Guess what I brought," Togo said, setting the box on the table and opening it to reveal the strawberry shortcake.

Ayano's eyes widened slightly, a faint glimmer of excitement breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. "Strawberry shortcake," she murmured.

"Yep. Thought we could use a treat," Togo replied, pulling out a couple of plates and cutting a generous slice for each of them. "But first, tell me 'bout your day. How was school?"

Ayano sat at the table, her small hands resting on her lap. "It was okay. I have homework for English class. We have to write about our hero,"

Togo frowned thoughtfully. "Havin' trouble with it?"

Ayano nodded. "I don't know who to write about."

Togo leaned back, rubbing his chin. "Well, you love Swan Lake, right? Maybe you could write about Odette. She's pretty heroic, bein' a princess and all, and you love ballet 'cause of her."

Ayano considered it, her expression contemplative. "Or," Togo continued, "you could write about Victor Frankenstein. I know you're into that story, wantin' to be like him and all."

Ayano remained silent, still deep in thought. Togo smiled and patted her head. "Tell ya what, figure it out after we eat this cake. Can't think on an empty stomach."

Ayano nodded, focusing on her dessert. They ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the clinking of forks and the soft hum of the refrigerator. Togo watched her, a contented smile playing on his lips. These moments, away from the chaos of his work, were what he cherished most.

After they finished, Togo carried Ayano to the couch, setting her down gently before sitting beside her. He put his arm around her, pulling her close as they settled in. The day had been long, and exhaustion tugged at him, but being here with Ayano made it all worthwhile.

As the soft glow of the living room lamp cast shadows around them, Togo's eyelids grew heavy. "Go ahead and start your homework, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice already thick with sleep. "I'll be right here."

Ayano nodded, pulling her notebook from her backpack. She watched as Togo's eyes slowly closed, his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. She looked at him for a long moment, her face expressionless but her eyes filled with a silent affection.

Turning her attention to her notebook, Ayano picked up her pen and began to write. The sounds of Togo's steady breathing provided a comforting background, and she found herself writing with more ease than before.

Instead of Odette or Victor Frankenstein, her thoughts drifted to the man asleep beside her—the harsh, intimidating Yakuza underboss who was feared by everyone but her. The man who brought her strawberry shortcake, who held her gently, and who always made time for her, no matter how rough his day had been. As the words flowed onto the page, Ayano realized she had found her hero after all. 

Togo woke with a start, the dim light from the streetlamp outside casting a soft glow through the window. He glanced at the clock: 3 a.m. Slowly, he realized he was on the couch, his back stiff from the uncomfortable position. He turned his head and saw Ayano, her small frame nestled against his shoulder, sound asleep. She clutched her pen and notebook, her head resting gently on his arm.

Togo chuckled softly, his heart swelling with affection. "Stayed up late doin' your homework, huh?" he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. He gently pried the notebook and pen from her grasp, careful not to wake her.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the notebook. As he read the neat, meticulous handwriting, his heart began to race, the words drawing him in completely.

My hero's not perfect, he's rough and tough,
A man who's scary, who likes to be gruff.
He fights a lot, with fists and a shout,
People are scared when he's about.

But to me, he's just my papa, so kind,
With big strong arms that always unwind.
His hands are rough, but they hold me tight,
He makes me feel safe, especially at night.

He's big and brave, my own defender,
In his eyes, I see love so tender.
Others might fear his strong, loud voice,
But to me, he's my papa, my choice.

So here's my hero, with rough and smooth,
A man who's strong, and sometimes can soothe.
He's not perfect, he's loud, in his own way,
But to me, he's my papa, every single day.

Togo blinked, feeling a tightness in his chest. His eyes, usually so steely and hard, softened as he looked down at Ayano’s sleeping face. This emotionless little girl had managed to put into words feelings that he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge.

He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "You’re somethin’ else, kid," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, nestling closer to him. Togo carried her down the hallway to his room, each step quiet and deliberate, not wanting to disturb her peaceful sleep.

He laid her gently on his bed and climbed in beside her, pulling the covers over them both. Ayano, still fast asleep, instinctively snuggled closer to him, her small form fitting perfectly against his side.

Togo wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He breathed in the scent of her hair and felt a profound sense of love and protectiveness wash over him. This tiny, emotionless girl had become his entire world, and he couldn't imagine life without her.

As he drifted back to sleep, Togo couldn't help but feel grateful. Grateful for Ayano, for her love, and for the chance to be her hero, even with all his flaws. In that moment, all the battles, all the hardships, seemed worth it. Because in Ayano's eyes, he was perfect, just as he was.

The room was dimly lit, the smoke from cigars curling in the air and creating a haze that matched the tension within the space. Togo sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of his men. They were a rough-looking group, each one hardened by a life of crime and loyalty to the Yakuza. But even among them, Togo's presence was commanding, his reputation for ruthlessness and strategic brilliance well-earned.

"Alright, listen up," Togo began, his voice cutting through the murmur of low conversations. The men immediately fell silent, their attention fully on him. "We've got a problem with the Ouma clan. They're pushin' into our territory, and I ain't gonna stand for it."

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing as he looked at each man in turn. "They hit one of our warehouses last night. Took out a couple of our guys and made off with a shipment. We can't let that slide."

One of his lieutenants, a burly man named Kenta, spoke up. "What do you wanna do, boss? We can't just sit here and wait for them to make the next move."

Togo nodded, appreciating the man's eagerness. "You're right, Kenta. We need to hit back, and hit hard. But we gotta be smart about it. We can't afford to lose more men or resources. We need to send a message that'll make 'em think twice about messin' with us again."

He pulled out a map, spreading it across the table. "This is where they're headquartered," he said, pointing to a location marked with a red X. "We hit them here, we cripple their operations. But we need intel, and we need it fast."

Another lieutenant, Hiroshi, leaned forward. "I know a guy who can get us inside info. He's been workin' with the Ouma clan, but I think I can convince him to switch sides."

Togo's eyes narrowed, considering the proposal. "You sure about this guy, Hiroshi? We can't afford to trust the wrong person."

Hiroshi nodded confidently. "I'm sure, boss. He owes me a favor. He'll come through."

Togo leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to weigh the options. Finally, he nodded. "Alright, make it happen. We need that intel yesterday. The rest of you, get ready. Once we have what we need, we're movin' in. No mercy."

The men around the table nodded, their expressions grim and determined. They knew what was at stake, and they were ready to follow Togo's lead, no matter the cost. As the meeting broke up and the men filed out, Togo remained seated, his mind already planning the next steps.

The room was now empty, the silence filled only with the fading scent of cigar smoke and the faint hum of the city outside. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was late—much later than he intended to stay.

Togo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before extinguishing his cigar in the ashtray. He stood up, gathering his jacket and slipping it on with a practiced ease. His thoughts shifted from the grim business at hand to something far more important: getting home to his precious baby girl.

As he made his way out of the office, the cold night air hit him, refreshing and sharp. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the quiet hum of night. Togo's car was parked nearby, and he slid into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life with a deep, comforting rumble.

The drive home was a brief respite from the chaos of his work. He let the tension ease from his shoulders as he navigated the familiar streets, his thoughts drifting to Ayano. He knew she would be waiting for him, her small, emotionless face the anchor in his stormy world.

When he finally pulled up to their house, Togo felt a sense of calm wash over him. He stepped out of the car, locking it behind him before making his way to the front door. The house was quiet, the lights dimmed save for the soft glow coming from the living room.

As he opened the door, the first thing he saw was Ayano, standing by the entrance. She looked up at him with those big, voided eyes, her expression unreadable but somehow comforting. Togo's stern features softened into a smile, and he knelt down to her level.

"Hey, sweetie. Sorry I'm late again," he said, his voice gentle despite its usual roughness.

Ayano stepped forward and wrapped her small arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "It's okay, Papa," she whispered. "I wanted to tell you... my English homework got the highest marks in my class."

Togo's smile widened, pride swelling in his chest. "Did it now? Goddamn, baby girl." He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close as he carried her inside. Ayano up into his arms, lifting her off the couch with ease. "Back in my day I always got the crappiest scores. I'm real proud of ya, you know that?"

She nodded, her face pressed against his shoulder. Togo carried her inside, his steps lighter now, as if the news had lifted some of the burdens he carried. He made his way to the kitchen, where the refrigerator stood as a canvas for their most cherished memories.

"Let me see that homework," he said, setting Ayano down gently. She ran to her backpack and pulled out the neatly written paper, handing it to him with a shy smile.

Togo took the paper and read it, his heart swelling with pride at the careful handwriting and the thoughtful words. He reached for a magnet and clipped the homework to the refrigerator door, placing it prominently among the other cherished items.

"There," he said, stepping back to admire it. "That's where it belongs. A reminder of just how smart and amazing my little swan is."

Ayano stood beside him, looking at her homework pinned on the fridge. She glanced up at her papa, her eyes reflecting the smallest hint of emotion, a flicker of pride and contentment.

Togo knelt down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're my hero too, ya know," he said softly. "Every day, you make me proud."

She didn't say anything, but the way she leaned into him spoke volumes. They stayed there for a moment, the weight of the world outside their little bubble forgotten. In that quiet kitchen, it was just a father and his daughter, finding solace and strength in each other. 

"You hungry? " he asked, breaking the silence with a chuckle. "How 'bout we make somethin' together?"

Ayano nodded silently, her eyes never leaving her papa's face. Togo's heart warmed at the sight, knowing that no matter how hard his days were, coming home to her made everything worth it. He started gathering ingredients, guiding Ayano through the process of making their favorite meal together.

"Alright, sweetheart, we're makin' omurice tonight. You ready to learn?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves.

Ayano nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity. Togo chuckled and handed her a small apron, helping her tie it around her waist. 

"First, we gotta get our ingredients. You grab the eggs, and I'll get the rice and chicken."

Ayano moved efficiently, retrieving the eggs from the fridge and bringing them over to the counter. Togo set the rice and chicken down, then reached for the onions and peas. "Good job. Now, let's start with the chicken. Watch carefully."

He showed Ayano how to cut the chicken into small pieces, his movements precise and controlled. "Always be careful with the knife, okay? You might hurt yourself or others. That's a big no no, baby. You gotta respect it."

Ayano nodded, her gaze fixed on his hands as he worked. Once the chicken was prepped, Togo moved on to the onions, dicing them quickly. He then handed Ayano a wooden spoon. "Your turn. Stir the onions in the pan till they're nice and soft."

Standing on a stool to reach the stove, Ayano carefully stirred the onions, her concentration unwavering. Togo watched her with a proud smile, his rough exterior softened by the sight of his daughter learning something new.

"Great job, sweetie. Now let's add the chicken," he said, guiding her through the next steps. They cooked together, Togo explaining each step patiently. He showed her how to mix the rice and chicken with the onions, then how to season it just right.

When it came time to make the omelet, Togo cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them together. He poured the mixture into the hot pan, moving it gently to create a thin, even layer. "This part takes practice," he said. "But you'll get the hang of it."

Ayano watched intently as Togo expertly folded the omelet over the rice, creating a perfect omurice. He then handed her the ketchup bottle. "Wanna decorate it?"

Ayano took the bottle and carefully drew a small heart on top of the omurice, her expression focused. Togo smiled warmly at her effort. "Looks perfect, baby. Let's dig in."

They sat down at the table, sharing the meal they had made together. Ayano took a bite, her face remaining emotionless, but Togo could see the sparkle of satisfaction in her eyes.

"How is it?" he asked, taking a bite himself.

"It's good, Papa," Ayano replied quietly.

Togo's heart swelled with pride. "I'm glad you like it. You did a great job."

Ayano gave a small nod, her face remaining stoic but her eyes hinting at a quiet satisfaction. They finished their meal in companionable silence, the warmth of the kitchen wrapping around them like a comforting blanket.

After the last bite was taken, Ayano slid off her chair and started gathering the plates. Togo watched her, his rough features softening. "You don't have to help with that, sweetie."

"I want to, Papa," she said simply, carrying the dishes to the sink.

Togo smiled and stood up, joining her by the sink. "Alright then, let's get this done together."

He filled the sink with warm, soapy water, scrubbing the plates clean.

She mimicked his movements with careful precision, her small hands working diligently. Togo rinsed each dish she handed him, his heart swelling with pride at her eagerness to help.

They worked in quiet harmony, the clinking of dishes and the sound of running water filling the kitchen. Once the last dish was washed and dried, Togo wiped down the counter while Ayano put away the utensils, standing on her tiptoes to reach the drawers.

"Great job, sweetheart," Togo said, giving her a warm smile. "You're a big help."

Ayano didn't say anything, but her eyes shone with a hint of pride. Togo reached down and scooped her up into his arms,

"Now it's time for a bath, my stinky swan," he said, carrying her to the bathroom. He ran the water, checking the temperature before gently lowering her into the tub.

He washed her hair with care, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Ayano sat quietly, her eyes closed as Togo rinsed the soap away. He wrapped her in a fluffy towel, drying her off before helping her into her pajamas.

"Alright, bedtime, little one," he said, lifting her onto his shoulder. She nestled into his chest, her small hands gripping his shirt. Togo felt a surge of tenderness as he carried her, the weight of his responsibilities fading in the presence of his daughter. He entered her room, the soft glow of a nightlight casting gentle shadows on the walls.

Togo laid Ayano down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her snugly. He smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Ayano looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the quiet bond they shared. "Goodnight, Papa." Togo leaned down, kissing Ayano's forehead before turning off the light.

Togo sat by her side for a few moments, watching her as she began to drift off. The peaceful rise and fall of her breathing filled him with a deep sense of contentment. In these quiet moments, he found a solace that no amount of power or control could provide.

With a final, loving glance, Togo stood up and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. the faint sound of Ayano's steady breathing following him as he made his way to the bathroom.

The hot water from the shower cascaded over his tired muscles, washing away the grime and tension of the day. Togo stood under the stream, his thoughts drifting to the simple, precious moments he shared with Ayano. The pride he felt when she excelled in her homework, the quiet satisfaction of cooking together, and the peaceful routine of their nightly rituals. These moments were his sanctuary, a stark contrast to the harsh world he navigated outside their home.

After his shower, Togo dried off and pulled on a pair of loose pants. He walked through the quiet house, his mind at ease for the first time that day. He paused at Ayano's door, listening for a moment to the soft, even breaths of his sleeping daughter. Contentment filled him as he turned and headed to his own room, slipping under the covers with a deep sigh. The weight of his responsibilities and the dangers of his life felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth of his love for Ayano.

What Togo didn't know was that outside Ayano's bedroom window, a shadowy figure lurked. The spy from the Ouma Clan watched intently, his eyes narrowed as he observed the sleeping child. He took note of the house's layout and the routines of its inhabitants, his presence silent and sinister.

The spy's orders were clear: gather information on Togo's weaknesses, and nothing was more valuable than the underboss's beloved daughter. The figure remained motionless, blending into the darkness as he continued his surveillance, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight crept into Togo's bedroom. He stirred, the warmth of the sun gently rousing him from his sleep. Stretching, he got out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt before heading down the hall to Ayano's room. He paused at her door, smiling as he opened it quietly.

"Morning, sweetheart," he said softly, stepping into the room. Ayano stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at him, her expression as emotionless as always, but Togo could sense the affection behind her gaze.

"Time to get up," he said, reaching down to scoop her up in his arms. Ayano clung to him sleepily as he carried her to the bathroom.

They stood side by side at the sink, brushing their teeth together. Togo made a show of brushing with exaggerated motions, trying to coax a reaction from Ayano. Her lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smile he'd see from her this early in the morning. They rinsed and spat in unison, Togo chuckling at their synchronized routine.

"Alright, let's get you ready for school," he said, guiding her back to her room. He helped her into her school uniform, his large hands surprisingly deft as he buttoned up her shirt and smoothed out her skirt. Once Ayano was dressed, Togo got ready for work, slipping into his suit and adjusting his tie in the mirror.

Together, they headed to the kitchen. Togo pulled out the ingredients for breakfast, deciding on something simple yet filling. He cracked a few eggs into a bowl, whipping them up for omelets. Ayano sat at the table, watching him with those calm, dark eyes.

As the omelets cooked, Togo prepared some toast and sliced up fruit, arranging everything neatly on plates. He set the table, placing Ayano's plate in front of her before sitting down with his own.

"Breakfast is served," he said with a grin.

Ayano picked up her fork, starting to eat methodically. Togo watched her for a moment before digging into his own meal. They ate in companionable silence, the quiet moments between them filled with a comforting familiarity.

After breakfast, they washed the dishes together, Ayano handing the wet plates to Togo to dry. The routine was comforting, a stable part of their mornings that they both cherished.

Once everything was cleaned up, Togo grabbed his keys and Ayano's school bag. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Ayano nodded, slipping her small hand into his. Togo felt a surge of protectiveness as he led her to the car, opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, fastening her seatbelt as Togo settled into the driver's seat.

The drive to school was peaceful, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the city. Togo glanced at Ayano in the rearview mirror, her gaze fixed out the window. She seemed deep in thought, and he wondered what was going through her mind.

"Got any big plans for today?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Ayano shook her head slightly. "Just school," she replied quietly.

Togo nodded, understanding her reticence. He knew she wasn't one for idle chatter. As they pulled up to the school, he parked the car and turned to her. "Have a good day, Ayano. Remember, if anyone gives you trouble, you tell me, alright?"

Ayano nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Yes, Papa."

Togo smiled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "That's my girl. Now go on, get to class."

Ayano climbed out of the car, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Togo watched as Ayano walked through the school gates, her small figure disappearing into the crowd of children. She turned back briefly, giving him one last look before stepping into the building. He waved, a rare soft smile gracing his usually stern features, and waited until she was safely inside before starting the car.

Chapter Text

Togo gripped the steering wheel, the city lights of Akatsuka faded into the distance, swallowed by the thickening darkness of the highway. The engine's steady rumble filled the cabin, a constant hum that provided a small measure of comfort in the midst of his mounting anxiety. 

In the backseat, Ayano was curled up in a blanket, her head resting against the window. Her soft, uneven breathing was the only sound that occasionally cut through the din of the road.

The night was cool, and the car’s heater worked tirelessly to keep the chill at bay. The faint glow of the dashboard lights painted Togo's face in a soft, greenish hue, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the car's movement. His eyes, tired and etched with worry, darted to the rearview mirror every few seconds. He couldn’t shake the images of what had happened, nor the fear that he had nearly lost her.

The Ouma Clan's attack had been brutal, a reminder of the ever-present danger in his line of work. The memory of Ayano's small hands, her innocent face, and the terror in her eyes when he had pulled her away from the carnage burned in his mind. He could still hear her terrified cries, and it drove him to the edge of recklessness.

Togo’s mind raced with the decision he had made. Moving to Tokeino City was more than a mere relocation—it was an escape. The city was quiet, a stark contrast to the relentless energy of Akatsuka. It was a place where children played freely in the streets, where life seemed to move at a gentler pace. It was exactly what Ayano needed, far from the shadows of his world.

He glanced at her again, her small figure barely visible in the dim light. She was secure now, away from the chaos, but Togo knew the transition wouldn’t be easy for her. The city’s serenity was a stark juxtaposition to the fear and violence that had been her recent reality. He wanted to protect her from every harm, to give her a semblance of normalcy that he could never truly have for himself.

The road stretched ahead, long and straight, with occasional bends that reflected the uncertainty of the future. Togo's thoughts were a maelstrom, his plans for Tokeino City interwoven with the relentless drive to shield Ayano from the consequences of his past choices. Every mile brought them closer to a new beginning, but also reminded him of the sacrifices he had to make.

As they crossed the city limits of Tokeino, the skyline began to appear—a silhouette of modest buildings and green spaces, a stark contrast to the concrete jungle they had left behind. Togo could almost see the future he envisioned for Ayano: a world where she could grow up without the constant threat of violence, where she could laugh and play without fear.

He maneuvered the car through the streets of a wealthier part of Tokeino City, each block more serene and inviting than the last. The apartment complex loomed ahead, a quiet, elegant building with well-kept gardens and a sense of tranquility that seemed almost foreign to Togo. It was a far cry from the chaotic life they had left behind.

Pulling into the designated parking spot, Togo turned off the engine and sat in the stillness of the car for a moment. The world outside was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the storm that had raged in his life. He looked back at Ayano, still curled up in the backseat, her chest rising and falling rhythmically with her sleep.

Gently, he unfastened her seatbelt and carefully lifted her from the car. She was light, but the tenderness with which he held her made the moment feel significant, almost sacred. Her small head rested against his shoulder, and her tiny hands clutched the edges of her blanket.

With a determined, yet weary stride, Togo carried her toward the apartment building. The lobby was immaculate, adorned with polished marble floors and tasteful décor. It was a far cry from the cramped, dingy spaces he had been used to, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope.

He approached the elevator, where his men—trusty associates who had followed him from Akatsuka City—were already working diligently. They had arrived ahead of him, their presence a quiet testament to Togo’s unwavering command and their respect for him. The moving truck was parked nearby, and they were methodically unloading furniture and boxes.

The elevator doors slid open, and Togo stepped inside, cradling Ayano as he pressed the button for their floor. His men followed closely, their footsteps muted by the soft carpeting of the hallway. They exchanged nods of acknowledgment, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation and their commitment to ensuring that Togo’s new start would be as smooth as possible.

As the elevator reached their floor, Togo carried Ayano down the hallway to their new apartment. The door stood open, revealing a tastefully furnished space that was modest yet comfortable. The living room was bathed in the soft light of early morning, and the apartment exuded a warmth that Togo hoped would provide a sense of security for his daughter.

He stepped inside, carefully placing Ayano on the sofa. She stirred slightly but remained asleep, her face serene. Togo took a moment to watch her, the weight of his decisions and their consequences settling over him. The apartment felt like a blank canvas, a new beginning for both of them.

Outside, his men continued to unload the truck, moving with practiced efficiency. The sounds of boxes being carried and furniture being positioned filled the apartment, a reminder that they were starting to put down roots. Togo took a deep breath, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over him.

He gently arranged a few pillows around Ayano, ensuring she would be comfortable. As he watched her sleep, he felt a surge of protectiveness, mingled with a deep-seated hope for the future. This was their chance to build something different, something better.

With a final glance at his daughter, Togo stepped out to oversee the unpacking. The apartment was beginning to feel like home, each piece of furniture and every box adding to the sense of normalcy he desperately wanted for Ayano.

The first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, casting a soft, golden hue over the apartment. Togo’s men worked diligently, their movements efficient and synchronized as they finished unloading the moving truck. Boxes were stacked neatly in corners, and furniture was placed with deliberate care, each item finding its new place in the unfamiliar space.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, Togo approached his men, who were now taking a brief respite. Their faces were set with the quiet determination that had seen them through countless tasks, but there was an underlying weariness that spoke of long hours and dedication.

Togo glanced at the horizon, the rising sun a reminder that their presence was no longer needed. “Alright, men, it’s time to head back,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “You’ve done a great job, but it’s better if you leave before the neighborhood wakes up. We don’t want to draw attention.”

His men nodded in understanding, the gravity of the situation evident in their subdued responses. They quickly gathered their remaining belongings, their movements now a mix of practiced efficiency and quiet respect. One by one, they exchanged brief, solemn goodbyes with Togo, their expressions reflecting both the end of their task and the beginning of their journey back.

As they climbed into the truck, the engine roared to life, and the vehicle slowly pulled away from the curb. Togo watched as it disappeared down the street, the sound of its departure fading into the morning quiet. The once-bustling presence of the Yakuza was now replaced by the tranquil stillness of the neighborhood, the only signs of their recent activity the empty truck and the boxes waiting to be unpacked.

Togo turned and walked back into the apartment, the space now feeling more like a haven than an empty shell. The sunlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the room and casting a warm glow over the scattered boxes and newly-arrived furniture. The apartment was still a work in progress, but it was beginning to take shape—a testament to the new life he was trying to build for Ayano.

He moved through the apartment, methodically checking on the arrangements. The living room was coming together, with the sofa now flanked by a coffee table and a couple of armchairs. The kitchen was still a jumble of boxes, but the essentials were in place. He took a moment to arrange a few items on the kitchen counter, attempting to create a semblance of normalcy.

Ayano stirred slowly, her eyelids fluttering open as the soft morning light bathed the room in a gentle glow. She blinked a few times, her surroundings coming into focus. The unfamiliarity of the apartment was a stark contrast to the comfort of her previous bedroom. For a moment, confusion clouded her young features as she tried to piece together where she was.

Her small hands reached out instinctively, seeking the familiar warmth of her papa. The blanket was still draped over her, and she noticed the softness of the new sofa beneath her. She sat up slowly, her movements cautious, her eyes scanning the room for a sign of Togo. The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional creak of settling furniture and the distant sounds of the city outside.

“Papa?” she called softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. She slipped off the sofa, her tiny feet making a soft patter on the floor as she padded across the room. Her curiosity mixed with a tinge of concern, her heart a little heavy with the uncertainty of their new surroundings.

Ayano ventured into the kitchen, peeking around the corner and finding it still cluttered with boxes. The smell of fresh paint and new furniture was faint but distinct, adding to the sense of newness that surrounded her. She called out again, her voice trembling slightly, “Papa?”

Hearing no response, she continued her exploration, moving with a mix of wonder and trepidation. She wandered through the living room, her eyes wide as she took in the neat arrangement of furniture and the way the light played across the space. She stopped occasionally to touch an object or peer into a box, searching for any hint of familiarity.

As she moved through the apartment, her footsteps light and cautious, she stumbled upon Togo, who had been quietly arranging some items. His back was turned as he worked on setting up a small bookshelf. The sight of her papa brought a wave of relief to her face.

“Papa!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and eagerness.

Togo turned, his expression softening immediately at the sight of his daughter. He saw her standing there, her blanket still wrapped around her and her eyes wide with the lingering sleepiness of just waking up. For a moment, his heart ached at the sight of her vulnerability, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of warmth and tenderness.

He stepped toward her, his movements gentle and reassuring. Kneeling down to her level, he extended his arms. “Morning, Ayano. Did you sleep well?”

Ayano nodded, a small smile forming on her lips as she shuffled closer to him. She reached out, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck as he lifted her into a comforting embrace. The familiarity of his arms, strong and secure, brought her an overwhelming sense of safety.

Togo held her close, his heart swelling with a mix of love and protectiveness. He knew the move had been hard for her, and seeing her adjust to their new life tugged at him deeply. “I’m here, Ayano. We’re going to be okay,” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

As he carried her back to the living room, he glanced around at the unpacked boxes and the scattered items, realizing there was still much work to be done. But in that moment, with Ayano nestled safely in his arms, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would make this place a home for her, no matter how long it took.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rough but laced with an undercurrent of warmth. “We gotta get some stuff for the apartment. Let’s hit the supermarket and stock up on some groceries.”

Ayano nodded, her expression neutral as she looked up at him. Togo admired her calm demeanor, even if it was a bit unnerving. She was taking everything in stride, which he appreciated more than she might ever know.

Togo carried Ayano into the bathroom, the space small but functional, with light streaming in through a frosted window. The bathroom was one of the few rooms that had already been somewhat organized, with basic necessities like towels and bath products readily available.

Gently placing Ayano on the edge of the tub, Togo turned on the water, adjusting the temperature to ensure it was just right. He glanced back at her, noting the way she watched him with a quiet, detached curiosity. Despite the calm exterior, her presence was a reminder of the new life they were trying to build together.

“Time for a bath, my stinky swan,” he said, his voice gruff but softened by the care he was trying to convey. He started to fill the tub with warm water, the gentle sound of the running faucet filling the room.

Ayano made no protest, her expression remaining neutral as she watched him prepare. Togo quickly and efficiently got her undressed, his movements precise but gentle. He took a moment to appreciate the rare opportunity to care for her in such a simple, everyday manner. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of their recent past.

Once the tub was filled, he helped her into the water, careful to keep her steady as she settled in. He gently washed her, using a soft sponge and mild soap. His hands, though strong and accustomed to rough work, were tender as they moved over her small frame. The sight of her relaxing into the bath was a small victory for him, a sign that this new life might be working out as planned.

When Ayano was finished and the bath was over, Togo carefully lifted her out and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. He dried her off with quick, efficient strokes, trying to make the process as comfortable as possible for her. Despite her emotionless demeanor, he noticed the subtle signs of her enjoying the warm water and the gentle touch.

With her hair still damp, he took her into the bedroom, where he had already picked out a puffy tulle dress. The dress was a soft shade of green,  its layers of tulle giving it a delicate, girlish charm. Togo had never been one for fashion, but he had chosen it because he thought it might make Ayano feel special.

“Here we go,” he said, trying to sound cheerful despite his rough voice. He helped her into the dress, his fingers deftly working to fasten the buttons and smooth out the fabric. As he adjusted the dress on her, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride at how cute she looked in it.

With her dress now in place, Togo moved on to her hair. He gathered it into two sections, carefully braiding each into twin braids. His movements were meticulous, his focus evident in the way he concentrated on ensuring the braids were neat and even. He wasn’t used to such delicate tasks, but he wanted everything to be perfect for her.

As he tied the final elastic into place, Ayano’s soft, emotionless voice broke the silence. “Papa, could you please put bows in my hair?”

Togo paused, his rough exterior momentarily giving way to a hint of uncertainty. Bows weren’t something he had considered, but he could see how they might complete the look. “Bows, huh? Alright, let’s see what we got,” he replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

He rummaged through a small box of hair accessories he had set aside, eventually finding a couple of simple white bows. He carefully attached them to the ends of Ayano’s braids, making sure they were secure but not too tight. The bows added a touch of sweetness to the look, and Togo felt a small smile tug at his lips as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“There ya go,” he said, giving her a nod of approval. “All set for the day.”

Ayano looked at herself in the mirror, her expression still calm but with a faint glimmer of satisfaction. She turned back to Togo, giving him a small nod.

“Thanks, Papa,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of gratitude.

Togo ruffled her hair gently, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his normally stern demeanor. “No problem, baby. Listen, papa's gonna take a quick shower before we head out. You stay here and wait for me, okay? Just explore a bit if you want.”

Ayano nodded, her expression still calm but showing a flicker of curiosity. “Okay, Papa,” she replied softly.

With a final reassuring smile, Togo stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The sound of running water soon filled the apartment, mingling with the faint echoes of his movements as he prepared for his shower.

Outside, Ayano wandered into the living room, her small steps tentative but filled with an inquisitive energy. The space, though still a work in progress, was beginning to take on a semblance of home. The sunlight poured in through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

She approached the boxes stacked against the wall, her tiny hands brushing over the rough cardboard. The boxes were marked with hastily scrawled labels, hinting at their contents—everything from kitchenware to books. She carefully pried open a box marked "toys," her eyes lighting up as she discovered a collection of stuffed animals and small games.

Ayano picked up a stuffed bear, its soft fur comforting to her touch. She hugged it to her chest, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips as she imagined the bear as a companion in this new place. She set the bear down on the sofa and continued her exploration, moving towards the bookshelf that Togo had begun to set up.

Her fingers traced the spines of the books, some of which were familiar from their previous home, while others were new and unfamiliar. She pulled a book from the shelf, its cover bright and colorful. She sat down on the floor with the book open, her eyes scanning the pages with a mixture of interest and concentration.

The sound of the shower running in the bathroom was a constant, soothing background noise. It felt oddly comforting, a reminder that despite the changes and the unfamiliarity of their new surroundings, there was still a sense of routine and normalcy to be found.

After some time, Ayano moved towards the kitchen area. The sight of the empty counters and scattered boxes made her feel a little overwhelmed, but she approached with cautious curiosity. She opened a few cabinets, peeking inside at the new dishes and utensils, imagining how they would look once everything was properly arranged.

She stopped by the window, which overlooked a small courtyard with a few trees and patches of green. She pressed her hands against the glass, looking out at the neighborhood. The quietness of the street and the sight of a few early risers walking their dogs gave her a sense of calm.

As Togo’s shower continued, Ayano’s exploration was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Togo emerged, his hair damp and his face freshened. He saw Ayano by the window, her back turned to him as she gazed outside.

He walked over, his presence strong but careful not to startle her. “Alright, kiddo, I’m all set. Ready to head out?”

Ayano turned to him, her gaze shifting from the window to his face. She nodded, the earlier curiosity in her eyes now mixed with a touch of excitement. “Yes, Papa.”

Togo gave her a quick, approving smile. “Good. Let’s get going then. We’ve got groceries to buy and a new place to settle into.”

He grabbed his keys and wallet from the entryway, ensuring everything was in order. Ayano followed him towards the door, her small hand finding his as they prepared to step outside.

Chapter Text

The supermarket encounter had left a palpable tension in the air, and Togo could feel it simmering just beneath the surface. As they walked back to the car, Ayano's small hand firmly clasped in his, he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the last time they'd cross paths with the Najimis.

Togo glanced down at Ayano, her emotionless face a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. He admired her resilience, her ability to remain unperturbed by the Najimi family's snide remarks and Osano's unsettling interest. She was a rock, and he found solace in her presence.

"Come on, kiddo," Togo muttered, his voice gruff but gentle. "Let's get you home."

Ayano nodded silently, her eyes distant. Togo opened the car door and helped her into the backseat, buckling her in with a tenderness that belied his rough exterior. As he settled into the driver's seat, he took a deep breath, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

The drive back to their apartment was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of Ayano shifting in her seat. Togo's mind raced, replaying the interaction with the Najimis over and over. He knew their paths would cross again; people like Osuke Najimi didn't simply walk away. They lingered, plotting and scheming.

When they arrived at their new apartment, Togo parked the car and walked around to help Ayano out. He scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her inside while his men continued to bring in the remaining furniture. The apartment was slowly beginning to feel like home, but the unease from the supermarket still lingered.

Inside, Togo set Ayano down on the couch and knelt before her, his rough hands gently cupping her face. "You okay, Ayano?"

She nodded again, her eyes meeting his briefly before drifting away. Togo sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "We'll be fine," he assured her, though he was speaking as much to himself as to her. "I'll keep you safe, no matter what."

As the evening wore on, Togo busied himself with organizing their new home, trying to push thoughts of the Najimis to the back of his mind. He prepared dinner, the mundane task grounding him. Ayano sat quietly at the table, her eyes following his every move.

After dinner, Togo helped Ayano with her bath, the ritual calming both of them. He dressed her in a soft nightgown and braided her hair, tying bows at the ends just as she liked. The routine was a welcome distraction, a moment of normalcy in their tumultuous lives.

Once Ayano was tucked into bed, Togo sat beside her, watching her as she drifted off to sleep. Her steady breathing was a balm to his frayed nerves. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts inevitably returning to the Najimis.

"This ain't over," he murmured to himself, his jaw tightening with resolve. He knew they would come face to face with the Najimis again, but he was ready. For Ayano's sake, he would always be ready.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the apartment. Togo had been up for hours, his mind always alert, always vigilant. Today was Ayano's first ballet practice in Tokeino City, and he was determined to make it a positive experience for her.

He moved quietly around the apartment, preparing breakfast and laying out Ayano's ballet outfit with care. When it was time to wake her, he did so gently, his voice soft in the early morning stillness.

"Ayano, it's time to get up, kiddo," he murmured, brushing a hand over her hair. She stirred, her eyes slowly opening to meet his.

After breakfast, Togo helped Ayano into her ballet attire, a delicate black leotard with a matching tutu. He braided her hair, tying it off with the familiar bows that she loved. Despite her emotionless expression, he could see a flicker of anticipation in her eyes.

"Ready?" he asked, standing back to admire his handiwork. She nodded, and they headed out the door.

The drive to the ballet studio was peaceful, the city just beginning to wake up. Togo glanced at Ayano in the rearview mirror, her small figure poised and calm. He felt a surge of protectiveness, his determination to give her a normal life strengthening with every passing moment.

As they arrived and walked towards the studio, Togo noticed a familiar figure ahead. Osuke Najimi, accompanied by his son Osano, was heading in the same direction. The sight of them made Togo's grip on Ayano's hand tighten slightly.

Osano's expression was a picture of petulance. His face was flushed, and he dragged his feet, clearly unhappy about something. As they drew closer, Togo overheard snippets of their conversation.

"I don't want to go to violin practice!" Osano whined, his voice loud and grating. "It's boring, and I hate it!"

Osuke's face was a mask of patience, but Togo could see the annoyance in his eyes. "Osano, we've talked about this. It's important for your development. You need to learn discipline."

"I don't care about discipline!" Osano yelled, his tantrum attracting stares from passersby. "I hate violin!"

Togo and Ayano were almost upon them now. Osuke glanced up, his eyes meeting Togo's with a flash of recognition. He straightened, a thin smile spreading across his face.

"Ah, Mr. Atatsuma," Osuke greeted, his tone smooth. "Taking your daughter to ballet, I see?"

Togo nodded curtly. "Yeah. And I see you're dealing with... other issues."

Osuke's smile tightened, his gaze flicking to Osano, who was now sulking with his arms crossed. "Yes, well, children can be quite... challenging at times."

Togo observed the strained dynamic, his grip on Ayano's hand remaining firm. The tension between father and son was palpable, a stark contrast to the quiet understanding he shared with Ayano.

"Osano," Osuke snapped, his patience finally wearing thin, "we've discussed this. You will play the violin. No amount of whining will change that."

"But I hate the violin!" Osano shouted, his face reddening with frustration. "I want to play the guitar! It's not fair!"

Osuke's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerously low tone. "Fair? You think life's fair, Osano? Discipline and hard work are what matter. You will continue your violin practice, and that's final."

Osano's defiance only seemed to fuel Osuke's anger. Togo watched as Osuke grabbed Osano by the arm, his grip firm and unyielding. "We're leaving now," Osuke ordered, dragging his son away despite his protests.

Osano struggled, his voice rising in a desperate wail. "No! I don't want to! Let me go! I hate you!"

Osuke's jaw tightened, his steps quickening as he pulled Osano along. "Enough, Osano. You'll thank me one day for teaching you discipline."

Togo stood there, watching the scene unfold with a mix of detachment and pity. He could see the anguish in Osano's eyes, the resentment building with every harsh word from his father. It reminded him, in some ways, of his own upbringing, though he'd vowed to never impose such rigid expectations on Ayano.

Ayano, for her part, watched silently, her expression unchanged. Togo knew she was absorbing everything, understanding the complexities of human emotions even if she didn't express them herself.

As the Najimis disappeared around the corner, Togo knelt down beside Ayano, his voice gentle. "You ready for your practice, kiddo?"

She nodded, her eyes meeting his with a calm certainty. "Yes, papa,"

He smiled, ruffling her hair slightly. "Alright then. You go in there and show them what you're made of."

Ayano gave a small nod and walked into the ballet studio, her steps graceful and sure. Togo watched her go, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. Despite everything, she remained a beacon of strength and resilience.

As he stood there, waiting for her practice to finish, Togo couldn't shake the image of Osuke dragging Osano away. It was a stark reminder of the different paths their lives had taken, and the choices they had made.

For Togo, Ayano's happiness and well-being were paramount. He would do whatever it took to protect her, to ensure she never felt the same crushing weight of expectation that Osano did. 

The ballet studio was a sanctuary of grace and discipline, a stark contrast to the chaotic world outside. Ayano slipped into her routine with ease, her movements fluid and precise. She danced with an ethereal quality, her expression remaining calm and focused. Togo watched from a distance, his presence a reassuring constant in her life.

As the class progressed, Ayano lost herself in the rhythm of the music and the repetition of the movements. Her peers danced around her, their laughter and chatter a soft background hum. But for Ayano, the ballet was her world, a place where she could find a rare sense of peace.

When the instructor called for a break, Ayano quietly left the room, seeking a moment of solitude. She walked down the hallway, her ballet slippers barely making a sound on the polished floor. The soft rustle of her tutu was the only noise that accompanied her.

As she rounded a corner, Ayano's eyes fell on a familiar figure slumped in one of the chairs outside the studio. Osano Najimi was sitting there, his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. The sight of him crying was a stark contrast to the defiant, angry boy she'd seen earlier.

Ayano paused, her usual calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of curiosity. She approached slowly, her steps measured and careful. She stopped a few feet away, watching Osano for a moment before speaking.

"Are you okay?" Ayano's voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Osano looked up, his tear-streaked face filled with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself. "What do you want?" he snapped, though the edge in his voice was dulled by his obvious distress.

Ayano remained unfazed by his tone. She took a step closer, her expression unchanged. "You were crying."

Osano scoffed, though his voice wavered. "So what? It's none of your business."

Ayano tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady. "Sometimes it helps to talk about it."

Osano glared at her, but the anger in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a deep-seated sadness. He looked away, his shoulders slumping further. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered.

"Maybe not," Ayano replied, her voice gentle. "But I can listen."

There was a long silence, the hallway empty except for the two of them. Finally, Osano sighed, his defenses crumbling. "My dad... he makes me do things I hate. Like playing the violin. I just want to play the guitar, but he won't let me."

Ayano nodded, her expression thoughtful. "My papa makes me do things too. But he also listens to me."

Osano looked at her, his eyes searching. "Does he? My dad never listens. He just wants me to be perfect, like him."

Ayano took another step closer, her presence calm and reassuring. "No one is perfect. Not even parents."

Osano's lips trembled as he tried to hold back more tears. "I just want to be myself," he whispered, the pain in his voice palpable.

Ayano reached out, her small hand resting gently on his arm. "You can be," she said softly. "Even if it's hard."

For a moment, Osano looked at her, truly seeing her for the first time. The quiet strength in her eyes, the calmness in her presence. It was unlike anything he'd experienced before. He nodded slowly, a tentative hope flickering in his eyes.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Ayano gave a small nod, her hand dropping back to her side. "You're welcome."

As the ballet break ended and the students began to return to the studio, Ayano turned to leave. She paused, looking back at Osano one last time. "I hope things get better for you," she said simply, before walking away.

Osano watched her go, the weight of her words lingering in the air. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of understanding and the possibility of change. And as he sat there, alone but not entirely lost, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

Ayano returned to her practice, her movements as graceful as ever, but with a new sense of purpose. She had reached out, connected with someone in a way she rarely did. And for Togo, watching from the sidelines, it was a moment of quiet pride. His Ayano, strong and unyielding, was growing in ways he hadn't anticipated.

Osano lingered in the hallway for a few moments after Ayano left, her words echoing in his mind. The brief connection had brought him a sense of solace he hadn't felt in a long time. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before heading back to the violin studio.

As he entered, the familiar sight of neatly arranged chairs and music stands greeted him. The students were already settling in, preparing for the next session. Osano's gaze immediately fell on Megumi Saikou, who was seated beside him. Megumi's expression was as stoic as ever, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil Osano felt inside.

The Saikou family was a constant thorn in his parents' side, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface of their polite interactions. Osano couldn't help but feel a mixture of resentment and curiosity towards Megumi, who seemed untouched by the pressures that weighed heavily on him.

Osano slid into his seat, setting up his violin with practiced movements. He glanced at Megumi, who was meticulously tuning his instrument, his face a mask of concentration. For a moment, Osano envied Megumi's composure, the effortless grace with which he carried himself.

As the instructor entered and the lesson began, Osano tried to focus on the music. But his mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Ayano and the oppressive expectations of his father. The notes he played felt mechanical, lacking the passion he felt for the guitar.

Beside him, Megumi played with a precision that was almost mechanical. His fingers moved fluidly over the strings, producing a flawless sound. Yet, there was an emptiness to it, a lack of emotion that mirrored his expressionless face.

During a brief pause in the lesson, Osano dared to speak to Megumi. "Do you ever get tired of this?" he asked, his voice low.

Megumi's eyes flicked to Osano, his expression unreadable. "Tired of what?" he replied, his tone even.

"Of being perfect," Osano said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Of doing what everyone expects you to do."

Megumi's gaze held steady, a flicker of something—perhaps understanding—passing through his eyes. "Perfection is an illusion," he said quietly. "We all have our burdens, even if they aren't visible."

Osano frowned, surprised by the depth of Megumi's response. "So, you don't like this either?"

"It's not about liking or disliking," Megumi replied, his voice calm. "It's about duty. Responsibility. Sometimes, we have to do things we don't enjoy for the sake of our families."

Osano's frustration bubbled to the surface. "But what about what we want? What about our happiness?"

Megumi's gaze softened, just for a moment. "Happiness is fleeting. What matters is the legacy we leave behind."

The instructor's voice cut through their conversation, calling the class to attention. Osano sighed, picking up his bow and positioning it against the strings. 

 The lesson resumed with a stern directive to play a particularly challenging piece. Osano focused on the sheet music, determined to push through his frustration.

But the instructor, Mr. Yamamoto, was known for his strict and often cruel teaching methods. As the students began to play, his sharp eyes darted around the room, listening intently for any mistakes. It wasn't long before his attention zeroed in on Osano.

"Wrong note, Najimi!" Mr. Yamamoto barked, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

Osano flinched but tried to correct himself, adjusting his fingers on the strings. He barely got through the next measure when he felt the sting of the belt against his wrist. The sharp pain made him wince, but he gritted his teeth and continued playing.

"Again!" Mr. Yamamoto ordered, his expression hard. "And this time, play it correctly."

Osano's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anger and humiliation boiling inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. He played the passage again, his eyes fixed on the music, but the fear of another strike made his fingers stumble.

The belt came down again, the pain searing through his wrist. "Focus, Najimi! Or do you want to be a disgrace to your family?"

Osano clenched his jaw, fighting back tears. He glanced at Megumi, who continued to play flawlessly, his face impassive. The comparison stung almost as much as the belt.

"One more mistake, and you'll regret it," Mr. Yamamoto hissed.

The class wore on, each mistake met with harsh correction. By the end, Osano's wrist was swollen and bruised, but he had managed to play through the piece without any major errors. The instructor finally nodded, a begrudging acknowledgment of his effort.

"Better," the instructor said curtly, turning away to address the rest of the class. "Remember, perfection is the only acceptable standard. You are dismissed."

Osano exhaled shakily, lowering his violin with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. His wrist throbbed with pain, but he took solace in having endured the lesson without breaking down. The harsh sting of the belt still lingered, and the weight of the instructor’s demands felt heavier than ever.

He made his way out of the studio, his steps slow and unsteady. As he reached the hallway, he found a quiet corner and sank down onto a nearby chair, cradling his throbbing wrist in his other hand. The pain was overwhelming, and the exhaustion of the day seemed to seep into every part of him.

His head hung low, and he fought to control his breathing. The emotional strain of the day had finally caught up with him, and he couldn’t hold back the tears that began to slide down his cheeks.

Unbeknownst to him, Ayano had just finished her ballet practice and was heading towards the exit. She noticed Osano sitting alone in the hallway, his small body trembling with sobs. Her usual calm demeanor shifted to concern as she approached him quietly.

Without a word, Ayano sat down beside him, her small frame exuding a soothing presence. She reached into her small backpack and pulled out a first aid kit. Her movements were gentle and precise, a stark contrast to the chaotic scene in the studio.

Osano glanced up through tear-filled eyes, startled by her presence. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Ayano didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she opened the first aid kit and began to carefully examine his wrist. Her touch was gentle, almost delicate, as she cleaned the wounds and applied a soothing ointment. The coolness of the salve provided a small relief against the persistent pain.

"Because I saw you were hurting," Ayano finally said softly, her voice a comforting whisper in the quiet hallway. "And I wanted to help."

Osano couldn’t hold back any longer. The tenderness of Ayano’s care, combined with the pain and exhaustion, overwhelmed him. He began to sob, the sound muffled against his knees. His small body shook with the intensity of his emotions, and he buried his face in his hands, the tears flowing freely.

Ayano continued to work on his wrist with a steady hand, her expression a mix of empathy and determination. She applied a bandage gently, her movements steady despite the emotional weight of the moment. As she finished, she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"There, it should feel better now," she said softly, her voice a gentle balm to his wounded spirit. "You don’t have to be perfect all the time."

Osano’s heart ached at her words, the weight of his emotions finally finding a safe release. He looked at Ayano with tearful eyes, the exhaustion and frustration of the day crashing over him like a tidal wave. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face against her shoulder.

Ayano was momentarily surprised but quickly wrapped her arms around him, her touch warm and soothing. As Osano clung to her, his small body shook with deep, shuddering sobs. His cries were muffled against her, a torrent of emotion breaking free as he let out incoherent babbles.

"I’m... I’m so tired," Osano whimpered between sobs. "I can’t... I can’t do it anymore. It’s too hard…"

Ayano held him close, her hand moving gently up and down his back in a comforting rhythm. She could feel the weight of his pain, the intensity of his emotions pouring out in a way that she could only begin to understand. Her own heart ached for him, and she wished she could take away his suffering.

"It’s okay," she murmured softly, her voice a steady presence. "You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to cry and be upset."

Osano’s sobs continued, his words broken and fragmented. The relief of finally expressing his pain was overwhelming, and he clung to Ayano as if she were his anchor in the storm. His tears soaked through her shirt, but Ayano didn’t mind. She focused on providing him with the comfort he so desperately needed.

Slowly, Osano’s cries began to taper off, the intensity of his emotions easing as he felt Ayano’s unwavering support. He nuzzled closer, drawing strength from her warmth and the gentle rub of her hand against his back.

Megumi Saikou happened to pass by. He had been heading to the same hallway, his expression as stoic as ever. His gaze fell upon the sight of Osano clinging to Ayano, sobbing into her arms with a raw, unfiltered vulnerability.

Megumi’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though his face remained impassive. He had always been detached from the more emotional aspects of life, focused instead on the demands placed upon him. The sight of Osano’s tears and Ayano’s gentle care was foreign to him, a stark contrast to his own experiences.

He watched for a moment, observing the tenderness in Ayano’s actions and the depth of Osano’s distress. There was something almost surreal about the scene—an intimate moment of comfort that was both poignant and unfamiliar. The emotions on display were ones Megumi rarely encountered, and he struggled to relate to the intensity of what he saw.

Feeling a pang of discomfort at his own inability to connect with the moment, Megumi decided to withdraw. He turned quietly, his footsteps echoing softly in the hallway as he walked away, leaving Osano and Ayano to their private exchange.

As he moved down the corridor, Megumi's thoughts were conflicted. While he was used to dealing with expectations and discipline, he had never quite understood the depth of emotional support and vulnerability that Ayano offered. It was a side of human experience that he had been shielded from, and witnessing it now left him with a sense of isolation.

Ayano held Osano close for a few moments longer, her presence a steady source of comfort. As his sobs subsided into quiet sniffles, she gently loosened her embrace and reached into her small backpack. She pulled out a clean handkerchief, its softness a stark contrast to the rough day Osano had endured.

Carefully, she unfolded the handkerchief and turned her attention back to Osano. His face was flushed and streaked with tears, his eyes still red from the emotional release. She offered him a soft, reassuring smile before beginning to gently wipe his face.

Osano looked up at her, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and trust. He made no move to pull away, allowing Ayano to tend to him with a quiet acceptance. Her touch was tender, almost reverent, as she dabbed at the tears still lingering on his cheeks.

The handkerchief brushed softly against his skin, and the cool fabric provided a soothing relief. Ayano’s movements were deliberate and careful, each swipe of the handkerchief a silent promise of her support. She focused on his eyes, wiping away the remnants of his tears, her touch gentle and deliberate.

Osano’s breathing gradually steadied, the rhythmic motion of Ayano’s hand adding to the calming effect of the moment. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the rare and comforting touch of someone who truly cared. Each stroke of the handkerchief was a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there to help him through his pain.

As Ayano finished wiping his face, she folded the handkerchief and tucked it away in her backpack. She looked at Osano with a soft, understanding gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her empathy.

“There,” she said quietly, her voice warm and soothing. “All better.”

Osano, feeling the gentle touch of her care, suddenly became aware of the vulnerability he had just shown. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks, an uncomfortable heat rising from his embarrassment. Trying to mask his emotions and regain his composure, he shifted slightly, looking away from her.

“I-I didn’t need your help,” he stammered, his voice attempting to sound more confident than he felt. “I could’ve handled it on my own.”

Ayano’s emotionless gaze remained steady, her expression unchanged by his attempt to appear unaffected. She simply watched him with a quiet patience, her own calm demeanor a stark contrast to his flustered state.

Osano’s blush deepened, his gaze darting around the hallway as if seeking a distraction from his own discomfort. He fidgeted slightly, crossing his arms in an attempt to appear more self-assured. Despite his efforts, the tenderness of Ayano’s care lingered in his mind, making his attempts at bravado feel hollow.

“I’m not some weak kid who needs to be babied,” he added, his tone more defensive than he intended. “I just… I just didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

Ayano remained silent, her gaze unwavering and serene. Her quiet presence spoke volumes, an unspoken understanding that needed no words. She could see through his attempts to act manly and recognized the underlying sincerity in his words.

Osano’s attempt to shield his emotions was met with Ayano’s calm acceptance. Her demeanor was a gentle reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable, even if he struggled to accept it himself.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Osano,” Ayano said softly, her voice holding a note of quiet assurance. “It’s alright to need help sometimes.”

Her words, though delivered with her usual emotionless tone, held a warmth that countered his insecurities. The gentle truth in her statement made it clear that his feelings were valid, and that he didn’t have to hide them from her.

Osano glanced back at her, the blush on his cheeks gradually fading as he took in her sincerity. There was something reassuring about her acceptance, even if it came without overt emotion. He realized that, despite his desire to act strong, there was a comfort in letting someone in.

With a small, reluctant sigh, he nodded, his earlier defensiveness melting away. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Thanks..."

Ayano’s response was a simple nod, her gaze remaining steady. The calm assurance in her eyes was a silent promise of support, and Osano, feeling the weight of their shared moment, slowly stood up.

Osano, determined to regain some semblance of his earlier confidence, took a deep breath and straightened up. He brushed off the lingering blush on his cheeks and put on a facade of bravado. With a forced but resolute smile, he extended his hand toward Ayano.

“Come on,” he said, his voice firm and carrying a note of exaggerated confidence. “Let’s head out.”

Ayano looked at his outstretched hand for a moment, her emotionless expression reflecting a subtle curiosity. She then met his gaze, her own eyes betraying a hint of soft amusement at his attempt to appear more composed.

Without a word, she placed her hand in his, her fingers lightly curling around his. The touch was gentle yet reassuring, a quiet agreement to walk together.

As they made their way toward the building’s exit, Osano’s stride was purposeful, each step taken with an air of determined manliness. He tried to hold his shoulders back and walk with an assertive gait, though the blush still hinted at his cheeks.

Ayano matched his pace beside him, her hand still securely in his. The silence between them was comfortable, a subtle acknowledgement of the bond they had formed through their shared moment.

The hallway stretched ahead of them, the soft lighting casting gentle shadows on the walls. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to their unspoken connection. The external world seemed distant, their shared understanding creating a bubble of quiet intimacy around them.  The day ahead held its own challenges, but for now, the comfort of each other’s presence provided a gentle reminder that they were not alone in facing them.