Ch. 3
A/N: There is just a little bit of swearing in this chapter, near the middle to end, but that's it.
.o0o.
Aila gave Aizawa the keys to Mira's old house-the one with Sami-chan's belongings-and they got her bare necessities by his request, including her car seat, stuffed animals (there were only two) and her blanket, a few of the clothes that still fit her (Aila and she had already cleaned out her closet before his arrival) and a pillow.
He was surprised to discover that she didn't have a lot of pink or frilly type clothes as he expected. They were practical and they for her. A few dresses, but mostly nice shirts and pants and shorts, a daycare outfit and a few skirts.
They were on their way back to his apartment back in Musutafu driving at midnight. He looked back to check on the four-year-old. She was asleep in her seat, hugging tightly to her black cat stuffed toy. He wished it was him.
It was going to be a long drive. She would need her sleep.
So would he, but he was driving.
Now, he had to follow the speed limit with another passenger. He hoped she wasn't a backseat driver like a certain Yamada he knew.
They would be back home in about an hour, then he would be able to sleep a little bit, at least.
He looked at the road in front of him, reorganizing his thoughts and priorities.
There was so much to do now. He only had a one-bedroom apartment in a semi-questionable part of town. And a nighttime job. He could and should probably take some time off and figure out something to make sure Samiko was taken care of. Daycare was probably the best option, but he didn't want to just leave her there then have to pick her up then leave again…
Not to mention he had to probably get a new apartment, just because of location…
Damnit, he had to change her last name too, didn't he?
"Mira, why didn't you tell me," he grumbled. It would be a lot easier for him now. He would have been a bit more prepared. He would have at least gotten a better apartment.
For now, that was his top priority. For now, he was focusing on her wellbeing.
He pursed his lips, his hands clenching the steering wheel, slamming one hand on it in frustration.
He knew that he had Hizashi...he might take up an offer of staying at his place one of these days. Just until he found a better place for the two of them to live.
Of course, he did see that job offer for Yuuei High...they offered an on-campus apartment for those who wanted it…
He would consider it.
For now, they just needed to survive tonight. Tonight is as far as he would get at the moment.
Well...This morning. Since it was well near midnight.
He pulled up to his apartment complex, turning off the car.
He turned to look at the girl in his backseat, still sleeping soundly in her car seat.
He then looked forward blankly, blinking before letting out a sigh, unbuckling and getting out of the car.
He unbuckled his sleeping daughter from the car, picking her up carefully, sure to grab her blanket and stuffed toy as she clung to him like a baby koala.
"Come on, kid," he said as he lifted her, giving her her blanket, "let's get to bed."
He walked up the stairs to their apartment that way, her pillow and stuffed animal in his right hand, his daughter in his left.
She mumbled something into his shoulder, shifting her head back and forth, her grip on his black clothes tightening.
"Hey," he said hushedly, "you doin' good? You okay?"
"Mmph…" she whined, "Tired…"
"Let's get you to sleep, then," he settled, his keys jangling as he found the one to his apartment door, "Come on…"
He walked into his bedroom, unrolling the sheets sloppily. He replaced the pillows in their proper place, setting his small daughter into the bed with the fluffy pillow and blanket in it.
He would figure it out. Dammit, that was his favorite blanket.
It's just eight hours, Shota, he told himself, and if he wanted to, he could potentially take it-
Well never mind.
She turned around, cocooning herself in the exact fluffy blanket he wanted.
He sighed, grabbing a blanket from the closet, walking out to his living room.
He set up his hide-away couch-bed thing, setting his phone on silent and grabbing his pillow. He was so ready to sleep.
But the moment his head hit the pillow, he was wide awake.
.o0o.
Shota did get to sleep that night-only about three hours, though. His daughter-it's so weird to say that he's a father-had woken up screaming around 6 in the morning. Turns out, she had a nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep, so he let her sleep on the hide-away bed with him.
Now he was awake. And couldn't go back to sleep. She was sleeping just fine.
He figured he could go into the other room and make a few calls...figure out how to change her last name, then get Hizashi's blond ass over here to help him figure out a plan.
Why isn't Mira here? Why didn't she tell him? Why did she have to die? Why did it end the way it did? Why didn't he know? Why?
"Why?" he asked aloud. His voice surprised him. It was wispy and hoarse. Like he was…
He touched his face. It'd been a long time since he had cried. He had forgotten what it was like.
It was just so unprecedented. It seemed like now he had so many regrets. It was a terrible thing to even think, let alone realize, but he was thinking more about Mira now than he ever had.
And by ever, he means ever.
He seemed to regret more than he thought that he thought rational, and he believed it was normal.
Did he ever stop loving her?
Why did he leave?
Why did she let him? Knowing her, she could have - would have stopped him. She should have. Begged him to stay, to help her, to be with her. To forgive her. To wrap her in his arms and never let go.
What did she even do?
She should have told him she was pregnant. That they were going to be parents. That they were so fucking stupid that they would be parents by the time they turned twenty-one. And he should have stayed and at least stayed in touch. He was sure that he would have at least helped raise Samiko, that is if he hadn't decided to take at least partial custody of the child.
Why was he so stupid?
He found himself growing more and more fond of this kid - his kid - as the minutes passed and the sun rose.
He lifted his phone to his ear, listening to the toes as they rang in his ear.
"Sho?" Hizashi's voice was somewhat hushed, almost like he had just woken up.
"Yamada," he said gently, "I might need a place for a while."
"Huh? For Sami-chan, you mean?"
It kind of irritated him that he adopted the term of endearment so quickly when he was still trying to rationalize he had a daughter to place a term of endearment on still, but he let it go. "Yeah. I need to still call in and let the upper-ups know I'm gonna be off for a few days to get things settled. But I don't want Samiko living in this neighborhood."
"Yeah, yeah," Hizashi yawned loudly and dramatically, "You can stay for as long as you need. Just let me know when you move in."
"And, as discussed, I'll pay for my part of rent and food and clothing."
"You don't need to, you know," he said, "The pay I get from the show is pretty good-"
"I'm paying for my rent," he repeated, glancing over at a sleeping Samiko, "And everything else. I'll call when I think I'm ready to head in."
"Kay. Would you care if I visited today?" he inquired.
"No, not really," he sighed. "Head over anytime."
"Alright," he laughed, "How's Sami-chan doing?"
"She woke up from a nightmare this morning...stole both of my beds. But overall, she seems okay. When she gets up, I need to change the bandages over her eye."
"Do you need any help with that?"
"No, I don't think so," Aizawa sighed, "I'll keep in touch."
"'Kay. I gotta get to the show."
"Yeah. Bye."
"Bye."
Aizawa hung up the phone.
"Is that Mr. Mic?"
Aizawa turned at the gentle voice.
"Yeah," he said dryly, walking over to his daughter who was waking, her mouth pressed in a gentle pout as her eyebrows rose and she stretched her arms up above her head.
"Careful," he warned, "don't bump yourself."
"Mmph," she scrunched her nose and tried to sit herself upright. She merely rolled over before crawling on all fours and then sitting up.
"You hungry?"
She didn't answer.
He just realized he had no idea what to feed a small child for breakfast. Mira probably wouldn't let her eat super sugary cereals first thing in the morning, knowing her, so what do you feed a child?
Aizawa sighed. "First," he said, "Let's get you up and dressed, okay?"
"'Kay," she mumbled, fumbling with herself to try and get off the bed.
He also realized he didn't change her out of her dress.
He mentally slapped himself as he gave her her suitcase. She seemed pretty self sufficient in finding some clothes and changing, only getting stuck once when taking off her 'travel dress' from the funeral.
When she was dressed for the day, he brought her to the kitchen, lifting the small girl onto a stool, bandages and the medicine prescribed to her on the counter next to her.
"Does your eye hurt at all?"
She thought for a moment then shook her head, a gentle pout on her lips.
"Alright. Let me know if it hurts when I take it off, okay?" he asked, unwrapping the bandage from around her head, tearing the medical tape off from the edges of it.
She winced, but never complained.
"Okay, this might hurt," he warned, one of his large hands on the back of her head, the other carefully gripping the blood-soaked bandage.
He started carefully tearing it off, pulling in spite of the fact that it clung to the scabbing skin and blood.
She winced hard, gritting her teeth and whimpering as he continued to tear off the bandage from her eye.
"I know, I know," he said gently, hoping to comfort her, "Just a little bit more. You're doing great."
He got it off.
Thank God.
She opened her good eye, tears glistening in it as she tried to wipe off her other one.
"No, no, don't touch it. Just...sit there for one second."
She sat there, just about rigid, trying to open both of her eyes.
"This might sting," Aizawa had a cream on his finger-an antibiotic/anti-inflammatory of sorts for her injury-carefully applying it to the now reopened wound. Turning on the tap behind her, he reached over and got some warm water running, soaking a small rag in it before dabbing it gently on the weeping cut.
He replaced clean bandages to her eye, taping them carefully back into place.
"How many times do we have to do this?" she asked weepily.
"Twice a day for a week, at least."
She sighed, worry obviously etched in her face.
This was going to be fun.
.o0o.