Parental Guidance

Summary: Yamato refuses to let Hanako go for a sleepover, but wonders if he's doing the right thing because he loves his daughter or because of his past, or both.

Warnings: Strong language, if anything.

Yamato had been sitting up late that night, thinking of a good excuse to tell Jyou. One: why was Hanako angry at her father [again] and two: why Yamato was up so late when he hadn't had a nightmare for months.

Well, he hadn't had a nightmare, but he did find himself huddled under the dining room table squeezing a small, stuffed green frog for comfort. For a man in his mid to late thirties, the entire thing screamed drugs or mental problems. Give or take, Yamato figured. He had long sworn off sleeping pills and he was still fighting Jyou on getting some late-in-life counseling as Yamato tried to remember that his mother was six feet under and forget all the things he had done to her.

Thankfully, fifteen old mini-Jyou: Aiko had been the one to find him curled up and hyperventilating. "Yamapapa," he asked, using the nickname with dignity (and it had just stuck after so many years, anyway), "Is this about the fight with Hana-chan?"

Yamato was still holding his knees to his chest, but at least he seemed more relaxed. Finally Aiko coaxed the blonde out from the table and they sat across from one another. "No," he breathed finally, fumbling around in his jean pockets for his cigarettes.

The entire attack had been a result of the fight, so in a way, the stepfather had lied. Moreso, the grown man was worried about the embarassment. He hadn't one in so long that the entire thing was like being revictimized again. Aiko had this way of doting without making it noticable that relieved Yamato, at least.

So, how had the entire thing started?

Hanako had approached her father as he was cooking dinner. She reminded the father of himself, standing there with that stoic expression. "Dad."

"What's up, Hana-chan?"

"...Tako-chan invited me to a sleepover this weekend. Can I go?"

"Who...?"

"Tako-chan."

"...who else is going to be there?"

"Um, well, it's just us."

"...and her parents?" Yamato said, finally turning to face his daughter and wiping his hands on the apron about his waist.

"They'll be there, I guess," Hanako replied.

"...I don't know them, Hanako," Yamato said sternly.

Hanako raised an eyebrow. Her father only used her full name when he was being insistant. She frowned, "S-So?"

"You can't go, alright?"

"What?! Why?!" Hanako barked.

"I don't know them, Hanako," Yamato repeated, turning back to the stove.

Hanako was absolutely fuming and stormed off, barking, "You don't let me have any friends!" of all things. Yamato couldn't help but roll his eyes but when the ever-familiar drift of rock music filled the hall he felt a tinge of guilt. She had wanted to go to a sleepover. That was all. Had he overreacted?

I grew up worrying about Takeru my entire life. Am I wrong to feel the same way with my children, or am I just using my own abuse as an excuse to make her live sheltered? It's not like I don't let her go anywhere. I don't know these people.

Yamato sat down at the table as the dinner simmered. He thought about everything that could go wrong, namely that someone would hurt his only daughter in the world. He couldn't help but think of his own trauma, so close to home. Worse, what if he did let her go but it was just some kind of gateway for whoever wanted her? Yamato found himself shaking a little and found when he wanted a glass of water his legs wouldn't let him stand.

They would start by giving her compliments.

"He has the most beautiful eyes and radiant hair."

Then, touching.

A hand on the shoulder, then down his shirt, brushing the sensitive part of his chest. It wasn't right.

Then...

Yamato recalled a pain in his lower back that persisted into the night. Even parts of him he had barely been familiar with ached and he suspected he had seen blood, too.

That was all it took for Yamato to end up hiding from his own mind. Aiko made sure his stepfather was fine and went to call the children for dinner just as his father walked in.

"Yamato? Waiting up for me?" Jyou questioned.

"Y-Yeah," Yamato whispered, trying to hide the fraying bangs by pushing them back.

Jyou raised an eyebrow, "Everything okay?"

"Fine," the husband said with a split-second smile. Maybe later they could talk it over. Maybe.