A/N: While writing this, I listened to 'Sleep Well, My Angel' by We Are The Fallen. I recommend you listen to it, too.
Heart-Shaped Box
It was night. The tiny apartment was consumed by darkness. They lay, side by side, eyes open, watching each other in the limited light. Next to them, Ushio was fast asleep, her dreams peaceful, unaware of all the complications that came with growing up. Tomoya and Nagisa were glad for her bliss, however. Nothing good would come from letting her know the truth. She was only five years old, after all.
"What are we going to do?" Nagisa whispered after a sigh, reaching her hand out in search of Tomoya's. He grasped it tightly, trying to comfort her, despite his knowledge that words and touches wouldn't fix it.
"I don't know," he answered sadly, wishing that he could keep it from Nagisa, too. To bare all the weight of their problems himself was his job as a man, wasn't it? He felt weak, having to share it with the woman he loved, forcing her to worry over his problems.
"There are still months of treatment left. How can we afford that?" Nagisa added, a tear falling down her face. Every night, they would lie awake and discuss it, unable to sleep for the fear that the next day would bring a horrible tragedy.
"I've applied for more hours at work," Tomoya admitted, kissing her tears away and smiling a small smile to cheer her up.
"So have I," Nagisa told him after a pause. They laughed about it quietly, careful not to wake their daughter sleeping beside them. Money was tight, and they were spending everything they had on treatment for Ushio's condition. Soon, food was going to be more of a luxury than a right.
"Pops and Sanae will be back from Egypt in a month, won't they?" Tomoya asked, lifting Nagisa's hand to his lips and kissing it.
"Yes," Nagisa answered, moving forward into Tomoya's embrace. "Then they'll be able to look after Ushio while we work."
"I'm glad we have them."
"Me too."
They lay in a peaceful silence for hours afterwards, broken only by the sounds of their breathing. Finally, sleep pulled them under, ending another stressful day, and beginning yet another.
—o0o—
"Can we look in there, Papa?" Ushio articulated, pointing a chubby finger at the small store across the road and looking up at Tomoya with the cutest face she could. He melted immediately, agreeing, and taking her hand in his to cross the road.
He pushed open the door and Ushio ran inside, making a beeline for the giant pink unicorn sitting in front of the window. Of course, that was what attracted her to the store in the first place. It could be seen clearly from across the road, and had probably trapped many parents and children before them.
Ushio peered at it carefully for a moment before turning around abruptly and wandering through the rest of the store. As he followed her, Tomoya guessed that she must've decided against the unicorn. It was a good thing, in his opinion. He didn't have the money or the room for it.
He felt a stab of regret, realising that even if Ushio found something that she really loved and wanted more than anything, he wouldn't be able to give it to her.
She stopped. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at a small ceramic pot. She put her hands against the glass and brought her face even closer to see it. Tomoya, feeling guilty and useless, turned around and pretended not to notice her fascination. He hoped that she would be too polite to ask him for it.
He was right.
They left the store a few minutes later, Ushio marching in front while Tomoya trailed behind, hands in pockets.
"Wait." Tomoya stopped, frowning sadly.
"Papa?" Ushio turned around, her eyes questioning why they'd stopped.
Without another word, Tomoya went back into the shop and over to the glass case with the object Ushio had been so enthralled by. And he bought it, despite the lack of available funds.
As he walked back outside to where Ushio was waiting, he unwrapped the gift and looked at it properly. It was small, he noticed first. The grey diamonds on the lid were filled with little love hearts, painted pink.
It was unassuming, cheap, and quite simple. But it seemed to mean something to him then. A moment symbolising that he would go without other things so that he could buy a gift for his daughter, no matter how small.
He handed it to Ushio and her face lit up. She cradled it close to her chest, careful not to drop it, and gave Tomoya the biggest smile he'd ever seen on the girl.
—o0o—
You'd think that with one less person in the family, there would be more money available to them. That wasn't the case, as Nagisa had stopped going to work, too lost in her grief. The Okazaki household just seemed empty without Tomoya.
Ushio was seven then. Despite having no earlier experiences involving death, she understood immediately when Nagisa told her that Papa wasn't coming home again. At his funeral, they saw him one last time. He looked like he was sleeping.
—o0o—
It was a sunny spring day when Nagisa decided to clear out some of Ushio's old toys. The cupboard space was needed, and the toys were not. Ushio, eleven years old, came down to help. It was uneventful, almost boring. Then they came across a small box.
"I've never seen this one before," Nagisa mused, looking at it curiously for a moment before putting it in the pile with all the other things to be packed away in the shed.
"Wait a second…" Ushio muttered, reaching over and taking it. She ran her fingers across the pattern on the top, absently counting the hearts. "I remember this," she said, astounded.
"Oh, really?" Nagisa was quite curious then. "So why don't I remember it?"
"Because Papa told me not to tell you I had it," Ushio laughed, smiling.
"Why would he do a thing like that?" Nagisa wondered.
Ushio told her about the day at the shop, the day he'd bought it. It was amazing that she still remembered it. She couldn't explain why it had to be a secret, but Nagisa could. She told Ushio about their money troubles back then and how Tomoya probably had to go without a few meals to buy that box for her.
Ushio kept it in her room always from then on, right where she could see it everyday. And every time she looked at it, it reminded her of what was given up for it. It was special, precious, holding memories of her happiness in those sad days.
She loved that heart-shaped box.