Father
Youma grinned at the child in his arms. His own child, the son of a lesser god, is the Pegasus Saint. He chuckled and tapped his son's nose as the child yawned and turned his head to a side, trying to take a nap through his father's chuckles.
"You are a great addition. Yes, you are," he cooed. "You are the Pegasus Saint, the one who controls the fates of the gods." He caressed his son's face, softly. "Though, you are small and have not a clue of your role, time goes by in haste," he snapped his fingers, "and you will discover what power you have."
He drew near, his nose pressing against his tiny one. "You are a marvel." The child was pressed against his chest as he rose from his seat and pattered to his crib. He placed him down carefully, not wanting to awaken the boy. Tenma creased his forehead and adjusted his head to a side. He continued to sleep, unaware of his father's presence disappearing step by step.
By the time he closed the door, he let out a breath. He jumped when his wife appeared as he turned.
"You will play a very good part as a jester if you continue to scare me like that," he warned.
Partita smiled and shook her head, already used to his poetic sarcasm. "How is Tenma?"
"The boy is asleep. Let him be."
She knitted her brows, confusion danced on her features.
"Hmm…" Youma raised a brow. "Does something trouble you, Partita?"
She nodded her head. "I will be gone momentarily. You will have to watch Tenma for awhile."
Her husband grinned and swayed from leg to leg. "Is that what troubles you?" he chuckled. "You worry too much over a boy whose destiny is about to begin. Don't forget, Partita," he smirked and tugged his bow. "You have a part to play."
She said nothing but glanced toward the door. The man chuckled and drew near, spotting a pinch of sadness touching her features, but it was gone in a second, never having been seen. She nodded her head and left to meet Pandora and her mother. Her departing steps started to fall into silence.
He leaned back on his heels and looked toward the door where his son laid. The boy won't be awake for awhile so why bother to stand around? He went forward, yet stopped when his son cried for attention. The man glared at the door, pondering if he should dare to enter. The boy will surely cry himself to sleep, nothing he should worry about. Since he ruled out the idea of going to see his son, he stepped forward but stopped when his wife's face entered his mind. Her innocent smile brought him to glance toward the door, wondering if it was the right choice to step in. His wailing son was calling and he had no choice but to enter for Partita's sake.
He towered over the crib and leaned forward. His son screams were loud and persistent, demanding someone to lift him up and give him attention. Youma let out a sigh and picked him up. The child was starting to quiet down as he rocked his arms from side to side. The minute the child felt safe in his arms, he stopped and began to relax into his father's chest. And though he may have refused to show affection toward his son, he was displaying it at that moment as he kissed his forehead and smiled. It was the only time Youma had truly acted as a father.