Shizuo switches back and forth between rubbing Delic's back and petting his hair. Delic's breathing has evened and his potential crying has stopped but he doesn't seem to want to part and, god, neither does Shizuo, though his knees are beginning to ache from his position on the carpet.

He presses a kiss atop of the brunet's head, murmuring into his hair. "I'm gonna stand up, but I've got you, okay?"

"'Kay."

Shizuo readjusts his hold, picking up the little boy weightlessly as he rises. Delic leans in more, unable to help by holding on. As Delic re-relaxes in his arms, Shizuo continues looking around the room.

The kid really likes pink, the color is practically bathing the room. Coating everything from the stuffed animals to the random knick-knacks to the bed spread. The walls are the softest, an easy on the eyes pale shade. White accents the rest, the furniture stark and sterile in hue. Shizuo recognizes bits and pieces of Delic's things. The posters and figurines from his kid's favorite anime. There's one poster of Ruri by the stereo and another with Kasuka from Delic's professed favorite film by the bookcase. It's only when he averts his eyes from the romantic posing that he realizes that the box hung above the computer is a glass trophy case. A few figurines have been placed inside to make it appear less bare, but, sure enough, there are three golden statues.

Shizuo blinks before walking over to read the text. Delic talked about school with some subdued boredom but generally average interest, he didn't come across as competitive at all to Shizuo. He assumed the kid was roped into taking part in some of them. He didn't expect the brunet to have anything from his competitions, especially in gold.

Junior Piano, last year. Junior Piano, this year. Junior Mathalon, this year. "First place," the blond astonishes. Each plaque claims the same two words. Shizuo wasn't that smart, especially not as a child. Even if it's not coming from his DNA per se, his chest is swelling with pride. His son is damn talented, what's there not to be proud of?

"What?" Delic asks, turning his head to see what his father's surprised by. He makes a short noise of understanding, his next word blasé. "Ahuh."

"Just ahuh?"

"The memories are pretty cool, but those are just plastic," Delic shrugs against Shizuo.

The blond holds his back with one hand to keep him upright while he leans back to exchange looks. Shizuo tries to scan the open, honest eyes looking back into his for something more, but there's nothing. The kid just doesn't seem to hold much sentimentality for a lot of objects, even the ones he earned on his own.

"Harusawa-san said that she recorded everything, do you know where those DVDs might be?"

"In a case under the TV downstairs."

Shizuo doesn't waste time, turning straight for the door. "She also said that you'd wanna watch 'em with me."

"Okay!" The cheery pep is back in his voice and it triggers more warmth to bloom in Shizuo's chest, an easy smile forming.

"But not the mathalon; it's so boring!" The brunet tries to make a show of flopping forward into Shizuo's chest, failing miserably with his arms disadvantaged. Shizuo laughs regardless, Delic's cheek feeling the gentle rumbling and blushing.

"We'll watch that one first to get it over with then."

"No!" He squirms, kicking the air as Shizuo steps off of the stairs.

It takes Shizuo a bit to figure out the television and DVD set up, even with Delic's help, but, soon enough, the first recording is ready to play. The blond takes his spot on the couch next to the brunet, who immediately scoots close enough for their bodies to press.

The play button is pressed and the video starts on the large screen. The camera quality is high for a home movie, not that Shizuo's complaining. Delic's crystal clear on screen, sitting behind a table labeled with his school's name and emblem with four other children, in a little white suit and pink button-up. The shot keeps focus on him and the boards in center stage, Shizuo has to assume that there are five other children on the opposite side. The teacher hosting introduces themselves and each child before stating the simple rules. Final two schools and the team with the most points wins, he gets it and the kids look visually bored with hearing the same things for probably the umpteenth time.

The first large poster board is removed by two teachers, revealing the equation. On screen, Delic's eyes sharpen and dart to the question. On the couch where he doesn't have to turn his head to read it, Delic says, "Two hundred and eighty six.

The host makes it through half of the question before the kid's shot his hand out to ring the bell in front of him. Ding! "Two hundred and eighty six."

The host is perturbed at being interrupted, but nonetheless says, "That's correct."

Shizuo's hand lifts to gently scrub through Delic's hair. "Hey!"

"Harusawa-san, you've been told not to answer before the question has been finished before. First warning." Delic's eyes narrow minutely, barely picked up on screen. As the host turns away to gesture for the next question, the brunet aggressively sticks his tongue out at them. A laugh bubbles out of Shizuo as one of the other kids at the table cover their mouth to stifle a giggle.

The next question comes. "Three thousand, one hundred, and seventeen." Ding! "Three thousand, one hundred, and seventeen."

"Correct."

Delic, leaning back into the couch and Shizuo, shares his on-screen expression of boredom and utter disinterest. Shizuo looks back and forth between the two as the next question is being revealed. With how rapidly Delic's getting the equations, on screen and off, Shizuo's begun to think that smart is too weak of a word. Shizuo's not concerned about where he gets it, he's just ecstatic over the fact that with brains and talent, Delic's future is looking far brighter than his own was at his age. With Delic's mind, body, and interests, it's no wonder the kid seems to have no friends.

"You're not having fun," Shizuo points out.

"Math is so boring! It's too easy!"

"I'm sorry." He combs his fingers through the brunet's hair. "I get that you don't like it, but you've got something special, Delic. Don't get lazy in your classes just because it's easy for you, okay?"

The little boy blushes and tries to hide half of his face in Shizuo's shirt. That word, special, gets used a lot around him. Sometimes praising, sometimes derogatory. Adults seem to lack any other descriptor for him. He wants to tell his writing teacher to recommend the other teachers a thesaurus for once. Being special blows. At most it gets him things and at worst it keeps other people at a distance.

"I don't want to be special, I just want..." Positive attention from his peers? People that care for him? People that can relate to him? To relate to others? To be understood? Normalcy and whatever the hell that means? He doesn't entirely know, and how can he? He's still just a child despite everything.

Delic can't finish his sentence, so Shizuo pauses the video. He slides off of the couch and onto the floor to remove the height difference between them. There's nowhere the brunet can really hide now with their new positions.

"I get it." Shizuo's hand rises to cup one of Delic's cheeks, to soothingly stroke his skin with his thumb and to make sure that Delic keeps staring back. "One day, I hope it doesn't hurt anymore, but for now… We have each other."

Delic's lips press and twist, trying to hold back more potential tears. He loathes crying, he never wants to do it. It only makes him snotty, his throat ache-y, and his head throb. The moment's going to be seared into his memory just as another did. When thinner fingers cupped his face on both cheeks and their face was close enough for eskimo kisses even though he's said he hates that so many times.

"Some day your talents and skills are going to make tons of people flock to you. But of course, who else does Deli-chin need when he already has my enthralling company right now?" One hand retracted to press to their chest with a flourish, eyelids fluttering for extra show.

"Someone with better music taste," he had said, poking fun at their mental library of children's TV show theme songs. Izaya couldn't manage to look convincingly offended before breaking out into a nasally rendition of Moonlight Legend.

"That doesn't count! That doesn't count!"

"Yeah," Delic says softly to Shizuo. "I guess that's enough."