I too have been weak, cried, and realized

The fourth time, he's the one who comes to her. Softly rasps his knuckles against the wood of her door.

He can hear her sobbing on the other side.

"Kaede? Can I come in?"

No answer. He risks a glance at Kotetsu, who's aggressively chopping an onion in the kitchen, pretending that his eyes only burn because of the vegetable, and not because of the very loud row he's just had with his daughter. Barnaby, who's just come back from a meeting with Lloyds, only heard the very end of it, but he caught enough to have a good idea of what it was about.

He knocks a second time, waits for a full minute. Then a voice, tentative and muffled, comes from the other side of the door:

"Barnaby? You can come in… If you want. If you're still here."

Of course I do. Of course I am, he thinks while turning the handle.

He enters. Kaede is lying on her bed, on her side, back to him, her favourite plushie clenched against her chest and her face disappearing between heavy pillows.

"Hey… What happened?"

She raises her head enough to send a glare in his direction. Her eyes are red.

"Can't you ask Dad?"

"I'm asking you."

She sighs, and her breath trembles. Barnaby grabs the tissue box on her desk and sits at the edge of her bed. For a full minute, the silence stretches.

He lets it thicken, trying to give her time, eyes glancing at the posters around him. They're mostly representing the SB heroes as a group, in poses of various degrees of ridiculousness, but there are also a few pop and rock bands Barnaby doesn't really about but can recognize from her phone's playlists. On the opposite wall, in direct line of sight from her bed, two of her oldest proudly stand; one is his, from a photoshoot at the beginning of 1978 he barely remembers, and the other is Wild Tiger's debut. They're both autographed, but signed with one of her glitter pens, pink for Barnaby's, and green for Kotetsu's. On both their faces, a ridiculous moustache has been drawn, along with a few hearts.

The moustaches are green. The hearts, pink.

Barnaby still can't stop his heart from fluttering every time he sees them standing side by side, and remembers the afternoon Kotetsu spent pinning them up with Kaede while he had tried to defend his latest attempt at baking (a batch of ginger and cinnamon cookies) from their mortal enemy (his partner's old and cranky oven).

Who would have thought that watching them bicker and argue about thumbtacks and tape would make him think maybe this is it. Maybe I've found it. Maybe this is what happiness feels like. Maybe happiness smells like cinnamon powder, tastes like brown sugar and lemon zest, and looks like a father and his daughter trying to line up some posters with the lines of the ceiling.

But the posters are not all there is of Kaede in Kotetsu's old guest room.

Frankly, there isn't much left of the bland space Barnaby once knew, where he used to crash sometimes, when the loneliness became too much, when it was easier to pretend that he was too drunk to drive back to his flat (he wasn't), where the myriad of ghosts would patiently wait for his return.

When he first crashed in, the evening after Maverick's funeral, the walls had been nearly bare, the bed was used as a folding space for clean shirts and pants and the whole room smelled a bit musty.

It's a far cry from what it looks like now, years later.

Because slowly, month after month, cloth after cloth, Kaede had made the space hers.

It had begun discreetly. A sweater left on a chair, a pair of pants on the bed, an old and worn-down PJ abandoned in the laundry basket, that her father would find days or even weeks later. Then, it had been her toothbrush, a tiny, bright orange thing, forgotten one Sunday in the holder.

Barnaby had spent the week thinking about the image it painted, set down like it was, beside Kotetsu's green and his pink, electric one.

The toothbrush had seemed to break some sort of dam. Because from there, every time she would visit, she would leave something behind, sow parts of her in her wake, for them to find. It quickly became a sort of game, to try and be the first to notice what she hid and where.

Kotetsu had been the first to notice the towel, deliberately left hung on the hook behind the bathroom door and that they somehow didn't see for two whole days.

Then it'd been Barnaby's turn to notice the pair of slippers slid under the carpet.

Then Kotetsu's, who found the scarf in his own coat's sleeve.

It lasted for nearly two whole months. Two months of tiny, strange, sometimes even bulky or heavy things left in places they didn't belong (how did she manage to put a hairdryer inside Kotetsu's glove box, Barnaby would never know), that they would race each other to discover first, or notice by sheer luck days later.

When Barnaby discovered a pink lipgloss in his leather jacket's inside pocket a day where he was having lunch with Ryan and had to explain that oh no, no, no, wait, Ryan, this isn't mine, give it back, don't make this face and no, don't tell Nate!, he decided to tackle the matter head on. He texted Kotetsu not to wait for him, left Apollon at 7PM on the button and drove directly to a furniture store.

He came back to the flat with a series of wooden boxes that he displayed on the bathroom counter, with said lipgloss proudly put in the centre. He hesitated two days before adding Nate's sample beside it, a real, fancy rosy lipstick that his friend insisted he brought back home, and added a post-it that read : "courtesy of Fire Emblem, who said that their own brand lasts longer". He never told anyone, and certainly not Kotetsu, who the lipstick had really been offered to.

The next time she came, the lipgloss stood between a handful of crayons, liners and brushes.

And so, the rules of their little game changed, from hide-and-seek to leave-and-find.

From there, it had been an avalanche of tiny things left behind, which, piled up, made quite the number. Earrings, bracelets, books, school stationery, a whole army of hairbands and clips, shirts and skirts and hair products Kotetsu thought for days were his, animal-themed socks and underwear, additional chargers or cables for her phone, and even some figurines that none of them were allowed to call toys anymore.

"My bag's lighter if it stays here", she would say, every time, as an excuse.

To which Kotetsu, too afraid that the wrong word would make her stop, only smiled and said: "well, while there's still room, you need to take it!".

Oh, there was a room indeed.

And she did take it.

One day, she stepped down the train with a full suitcase, that she wordlessly emptied on the wardrobe Kotetsu had bought a few weeks before. Barnaby had been here, and watched, enraptured, as she allocated each of her belongings around the flat with a look of determination on her face that toyed with boldness, as if she dared them to say anything.

They didn't.

And so, Kotetsu's guest room had officially turned into hers.

And now, even in the privacy of his own thoughts, Barnaby refers to the space as "Kaede's room". Kotetsu's flat is slowly becoming the flat, even if he's still coming back to his lot on Gold Stage sometimes, mainly to check on the plants that he didn't already bring here, home. Kotetsu told him, multiple times, that Barnaby could move in anytime he wanted. He's got the keys, all his stuff, and spends all his nights here.

But there is still a voice inside him, softer and duller every week, who whispers what if you're too much? What if it stops? There is a part of him, the same part that spent two years pining silently after his partner, who fears the possessives, who's scared to say our flat, our bed, the same way he's afraid Saito's cables will break, his memory disappear again and his life go back to the endless pit of despair it was five years ago.

They're slowly but surely pervading his speech, thought. The possessives. But it's a long run, a marathon and never a sprint, and the way Kotetsu reacts every time he slips, every time his tongue ends up on our instead of your, has been a very good and effective motivation, because Barnaby's been hugged, pecked on the cheek, kissed passionately, pushed into walls, elevators' buttons, and one time even his own chaser's seat.

So. He's getting there.

But this room? This space? It is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, Kaede's.

Kaede who still hasn't said a word.

Barnaby forces himself out of his considerations and turns back from the posters. It appears he's going to have to be the one to initiate the discussion, this time.

"So… Wanna tell me?"

She sighs again, but slowly sits up. Her hair is in complete disarray, the eye-liner, crayon and eyeshadow she carefully applied on the morning reduced to sad black patches stretching underneath her eyes.

She looks miserable.

A few years ago, she would have died before allowing Barnaby to see her like this.

"It was today. The appointment with Principal Massini."

Of course, Barnaby already knew that.

"He wanted to make me sign up", she sniffles, and rubs at her cheeks, making the black tracks even worse. "I could have joined you next season, had Dad agreed to sign the contract. I could've…"

Fresh tears appear in her eyes, and she frantically wipes them, putting make-up everywhere, spreading it on her eyelashes, cheeks and even ears. Another bad move and she's going to put some in the white of her eyes. Barnaby stands up.

"Give me a second", he asks, and quickly disappears in the bathroom to fetch two cottons and some make-up remover. The soft squares of cloth are some of those things that appeared on the bathroom counter last month and that he's slowly getting acquainted with.

When he comes back, she took the whole tissue box with her and is making half-hearted attempts to aim correctly at the bin under her desk.

"Let me?"

She blows her nose one last time, and he's pretty sure it's principle more than necessity, before surrendering and allowing him to climb on the bed next to her. One calf folded underneath his thigh, hovering over her, Barnaby begins cleaning off the black tracks. He keeps his movements soft and careful, as not to hurt the delicate skin of her face and hoping that the gentleness might prompt her to speak. So far, in the five years they have known each other, he never really had any problem making her talk to him with just a bit of patience and gentleness.

Once more he's proven right, for a few seconds later, eyes still closed and face turned towards him to let him work, she says:

"I just don't understand why he's being so narrow-minded about it, why he's preventing me from actually helping people. That's so hypocritical of him, that's what the two of you do for a living."

It's Barnaby's turn to sigh. He puts the first cotton, already turned black, on her desk to wash later, and readies the second one.

"Yes, but Kaede, we're both adults. The difference is that you're still young, and you're under our care."

Kotetsu's, technically. Barnaby does not have any say in her education. He flushes a little when he realizes that the possessive escaped him, again, and Kaede, damn this smart girl, does notice as well. She exhales loudly.

"I'm taking you don't agree either to me joining the heroes."

There is sadness in her voice, but no surprise.

"I do not exactly have a say in the matter", he tries, but they both know it's a lie. Were Barnaby okay with her being a hero at fifteen, Kotetsu would listen to him, and probably change his mind.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

Okay, well, it is.

"Close your eyes", he says instead, half-expecting her to tell him to get lost, but she obeys and he resumes his task. He's even more gentle this time, wiping around her eyes. Slowly, all traces of make-up disappear from her skin.

"Yes, it's bullshit", he concedes. "I agree with him, because I think you're way too young to join us yet."

He's working on a tenacious mark on her cheek when he notices a tear rolling down her temple, straight to her hairline. He follows its path until it disappears in her brown strands.

"Kaede…"

"Don't 'Kaede' me, Barnaby."

For a moment, she sounds older than fifteen, and Barnaby stops, but she doesn't push his hand away, nor does anything to make the tears stop rolling on her cheeks.

"I really don't understand, you know", she repeats, voice cracking. Barnaby hearts follows and he inhales sharply in the same time as her. When she opens her eyes again, they're drenched in salty waters, but her gaze is sure and unwavering.

"Dragon Kid was thirteen when she debuted. I'm nearly sixteen. I'm not a child anymore."

Barnaby wipes a last trace of liner on her cheek, and cannot help himself from catching some tears in his cotton as well.

"You're not a child anymore, but you're not adult yet, either", he says, with all the gentleness he can muster, "as for Dragon Kid… Well, it was Pao-Lin's parents' decision to let their child be a hero at such a young age. I'm not blaming them, I'm sure they had their reasons, and don't misunderstand me, Kid's one of our best, but your father does not wish for you to be thrown to the wolves this way."

"You agree with him, stop saying your father as if you weren't part of this decision."

Barnaby lowers his hand and looks at the blackened cotton.

For once, he's at a loss for words.

How could he explain to her the myriad of new feelings he's discovered since she allowed him to be part of her life? How could he make her understand that each time she's in danger, he's afraid he's going to lose his mind again? How could he tell her that he still has nightmares about the time she hurt herself in the mall, doing a hero's job, and he had to watch her lose consciousness alongside her father?

It's simple; he cannot. Those are not things you say to a kid. It's his own mess to handle, with Kotetsu, his therapist, and his friends.

She's still looking at him, waiting for an answer, so he tries: "I agree with him, Kaede, but not because I think you're not ready for the field, not because I think you won't be a good hero, because we all know you'll be magnificent. But because… Because it's often grim and gruelling. I don't wish for you to see that much blood, that much death, on a daily basis. Not while you're that young. Because I… I know what it does to you, facing violence this young. You've already seen a lot."

"I know", she immediately answers back. "And I keep telling you, I'm ready."

"Maybe", he concedes. "But that's not the point".

"Then what is?!"

She nearly shouts, and Barnaby winces. Damn. They had been doing so great, talking without the discussion evolving into shouting matches, again. He does not want a remake of the heavy argument she had with her father. That's why he came to her. Why he thought, presumptuously, vainly maybe, that he could do something.

But maybe the tiny voice is right. Maybe he's out of place.

He takes a few seconds to breathe, force himself to think, and not follow every instinct he has that scream to answer with as much passion as he hears in her voice, and cry because we care too much for you, because we risk losing you, because it's going to change you, to force you into adulthood too quickly. Kotetsu already told her all of this. She knows, and it's not what she needs to hear.

"You know… As soon as Maverick told me I should become a hero, I nagged him every year to let me join."

Kaede has fallen silent. If she's surprised by the abrupt change of subject, she doesn't say anything, and waits, her gaze fixed on him. He rarely discuss his former guardian with her… with anyone. Does not like to dwell on it too much. These days, the only ears who hear Maverick's name pass his lips are his therapist's and Kotetsu's, and he's rarely the one to initiate the discussion.

"I resented him each time he refused", Barnaby continues. "And he held on for nine years. But today… I understand why he did it, mischievous schemes aside. I was way too young. I felt ready, but I wasn't."

"I know what I feel! I…"

"I'm not saying I do not believe you when you say you're ready", he cuts her. "Our experiences, our lives, our motives, thank God, are very different. I'm just saying I know from first-hand experience what this job does to you when you begin it young. And we… I do not wish this for you."

"You think I don't know what I'm signing up for."

"I think you can imagine it quite accurately in some ways, because you live with us, because you know other heroes, and because you've lived your fair share of dramatic situations. But… No, I don't think you know what you're signing up for, and that's actually a good thing, because none of us did".

She opens her mouth, ready to retort something, when there's a knock at the door.

Barnaby and Kaede both look up. They didn't pay attention to the kitchen sounds, but now that they do, it's unmistakable that the noise has stopped. It doesn't smell like Chahan yet, either.

"Kaede? Can we talk?"

Kotetsu sounds both hopeful and miserable. Barnaby knows, just from hearing him, that he's got his puppy eyes and pouting face on.

"I think I heard all you wanted to say, Dad", she grinds, but he opens the door nonetheless and does seem a bit surprised to find Barnaby seated on her bed, the cotton still in his right hand and a bottle of make-up remover ready to plunge over the bedsheets onto the floor.

"I'll leave you two to talk", he says, raising up to get off the room and put the cottons in the washing machine.

"No, stay."

It definitely sounded like an order, and coming from Kaede, that would be a first. Barnaby stops, risks a glance at Kotetsu, who only shrugs. He looks tired, and very much forty-one. There are crow's feet beginning to appear at the edge of his eyes.

Barnaby knows he's very self-conscious about them, but, privately, he cannot help but adore them. They're not only a mark of time, a symbol of all their victories over death, they also appear every time Kotetsu laughs or smiles. It's been six years, and Barnaby's heart still aches when he does.

At this point, he's given up trying to stop.

So, in a way, the crow's feet represent Barnaby's victories as well.

"You're part of this anyway", Kaede explains, drawing Barnaby back from his day-dreaming. "If you two have to team up on me, at least do it to my face."

There's a heavy pang in Barnaby's heart. He knows she's feeling betrayed, alone, probably also misunderstood, but what could he have done differently? He agrees with Kotetsu. She's way too young to be a hero.

He falls back on the bed, defeated. She bounces back a bit when he lands on the cushions and Barnaby feels stupidly heavy. And not only physically speaking.

"So?" she asks, a bit petulantly, while Kotetsu pulls himself a chair.

"So?" her father parrots, puzzled. Knowing Kotetsu, it's probably genuine surprise, but it ends up sounding a bit sarcastic anyway. Were it addressed to Barnaby, it would have surely led to another snarky remark, and, most likely, some raised voices. They're getting better at communicating through calm discussions, but sometimes, their old habit of shouting truths and feelings at each other's head come back.

Luckily, Kaede isn't Barnaby, and she doesn't berate her father for his tone.

He should take a page from her book, here.

"What did you want to say that you haven't already?" she enquires, her arms crossing against her chest.

"Oh, I… Well."

There's something bashful on Kotetsu's face.

"I wanted to apologise for shouting at you in the car. And the bit in the flat. I didn't mean to sound patronising, or act like a fucking hypocritical helicopter dad."

Barnaby turns towards Kaede, who at least has the decency to look ashamed. He has to give her a point for elocution, if this is what she managed to shout at him in a fit of anger.

"Yeah, well… Sorry for that, too. Didn't mean to insult you."

She hesitates for a moment, then adds: "And I shouldn't have brought Mom into this."

And something just clicks in Barnaby's mind as comprehension downs on him like a lightning bolt. Of course. This is what sparked things off, this is why both of them had been crying, why the row had seem to take its toll on them that much.

Because Kaede knows her dad, knows where to strike to hurt him. Unfortunately, it's often the same place to hurt her as well.

Kaburagis.

Kotetsu's lower lip wobbles a bit when he finally finds his voice, sighs deeply, and answers: "We can never know what she'd have thought of it. If she would have agreed with me, or with you. But I'm not sure it's gonna help either of us to try and imagine what she would have said in this situation, especially if it's to prove a point to each other. She's worth better than that, Kaede. Better than to be used as an example for the sake of an argument."

It's the first time, at least to Barnaby's untrustful memory, that he's seen Kotetsu like this with his daughter. Somehow, she crossed a line, and both of them know it.

Kaede nods, and her face crumbles again.

"Sorry", she manages before the sobs catch her and drown the rest of her sentence.

"I'm sorry too, baby."

It's not often that this particular endearment escapes Kotetsu, and Barnaby knows Kaede only forgives him for it because there are tears in his voice, too.

"Can I hug you, sweetie?"

It's barely a murmur, but she wordlessly shifts on the mattress, leaving a place on her other side, where Barnaby isn't. Kotetsu doesn't need to be told twice and immediately reaches for her, taking her in his arms. Her face disappears in his chest.

For a moment, Barnaby does not know exactly where he stands, where his place is in the middle of this intimate scene between father and daughter. But then a tiny hand reaches back, feels its way along the bedsheet, finds his, grabs his fingers, and tugs.

He cannot resist; how could he? He goes with the pull and ends up squashed against Kotetsu's head, his partner's elbow digging into his side, Kaede's shaking form between them.

It breaks, mends and awakes something Barnaby thought buried, unreachable, deep inside him.

The desire for a family.

Because this is what it looks like, to his hopeful, treacherous heart, right now. Like he has a place with them, not only as Kotetsu's partner, but also as a bit more. It feels as if the team they make extend from their work to their lives, now intertwined, joyfully inhabited by this little ray of sunshine that is Kaede Kaburagi. It feels as if she allowed them to create a new sense of partners, a new way to share life.

It makes Barnaby curiously sad and happy at the same time.

He hasn't dared voice all of this to Kotetsu. Not yet. Not when there's so much to risk, so much to lose. He knows he should. Rationally, from moments like these, he knows that it's the pervasive voice inside him speaking, the one who still sounds a bit like Maverick's, making him doubt, making him think they could ask him to draw back.

But how could he risk losing this?

There comes the danger of the possessives, the one he isn't strong enough to face yet; maybe Kotetsu's flat, bed, and heart became his, theirs, yes, but Kaede? Kaede is out of reach, Kaede will forever be Kotetsu and Tomoe's. And Barnaby knows from first-hand experience how defensive his partner can get when his daughter's concerned.

So, Barnaby aches, and hopes, and relishes in the crumbs and slivers they keep throwing his way.

"Do you really feel as if our compromise is not enough, for now?" Kotetsu asks after a while. Kaede has stopped crying, but stayed cradled in her father's embrace, Barnaby's hand squished in the middle, stuck between her ribs and Kotetsu's hip. He cannot feel his fingers anymore, but doesn't really care.

The compromise itself had been the result of long and tenuous conversations between father and daughter a few years ago; Kaede would attend the Hero Academy to learn and use her powers, and by her majority, if she still wanted to, Kotetsu would pay her tuition for the special hero course.

But principal Massini had had his eyes on her already, and derailed everything by letting her know she could become a hero way before then.

Barnaby does not blame the man, not really. Kaede managed to get a grip on her powers admirably quick, she's courageous, adventurous, passionate, a bit headstrong for sure, but also infinitely kind and empathetic. If Barnaby were Timo Massini, he wouldn't even have waited that long to talk to her about joining.

In many ways, she's already a hero.

"I want to do more", she sniffles, but accepts to draw back from her father's now damp shirt. "It feels unfair, and cowardly, not to help people when I know I could."

"Oh, honey…" Kotetsu whispers, suddenly overwhelmed. Barnaby guesses this is what happens when you hear someone unintentionally quote yourself to your face, nearly word for word.

What is it with this family and their infinite, all-encompassing and visceral need to spread good and hope around them? Sometimes, Barnaby thinks there is a spark of deity hooked up in the Kaburagis' souls. He doesn't know what he did to be graced with knowing them, walking around them, but no amount of words will ever convey his gratefulness.

He can profess his love for Kotetsu any day, because this is a feeling that people will recognize or, at least, understand. But he has yet to find the words to express this. Because, somehow, Kotetsu is not only his lover, his work and life partner, he's also his anchor, his guide, his compass, his sun, and his focal point. He's warmth and light and sometimes, Barnaby thinks he might just go and call him for what he feels; life. Were Barnaby as religious as he was told his parents were, he would probably call it a miracle.

Because some days, knowing Kotetsu definitely feels like having been graced.

But the term's improper, in a way. Because the Kaburagis are not perfect, far from it, they're humanity at its best with all its faults and flaws.

So here Barnaby stands, unable to actually describe what Kotetsu and Kaede actually mean to him. He's tried in English, tried in French, even tried in the few Japanese words and sentences he's been learning at Kotetsu's side. Has planned to ask Ivan and Antonio about Russian and Spanish words, one day.

He's not sure there are words for it anyway.

"It's also your duty to take care of yourself", Kotetsu explains, successfully dragging Barnaby out of his linguistical considerations, as if he didn't need to carve this motto into his very own skull, "and for now, your only duty is to grow up, figuring out who you want to be, and try some things to know if it fits for you. It's not yet your duty to protect the city, or other people."

"There's also many ways to be a hero, you know", Barnaby intervenes.

Two pairs of identical amber eyes turn towards him.

"You don't have to wear sponsors to help people. I know Hero TV allows us to do good on an unprecedented scale, but sometimes you can make the most with the tiniest things, or in an unofficial, non-public way."

"Oi, Bunny, are you trying to encourage her to go rogue?" Kotetsu teases.

It's always been a bit of a bone of contention between them, going rogue, especially when they discuss the Lunatic case, but as years pass, as Agnes and Lloyds' unsatiable lust for ratings and results grows, Barnaby finds himself more and more drawn to Kotetsu's view on the matter. It's a dangerous path to follow, both in thoughts and in real life. And it definitely wasn't what he was trying to say.

"I'm not."

He frowns when Kotetsu and Kaede both seem to lighten up at his reaction, realizing that he's been played but determined not to let them get side-tracked. "I'm just saying that she's already a hero for some people".

"Us included", Kotetsu adds, incorrigible sap that he is.

"Us included", Barnaby concedes, "But what I meant was that you can always find ways to do good, to be good. Or even to prepare yourself for a heroic career, if you're sure that it's the place you'll want to take in a few years."

Kotetsu nods, then adds: "Please don't do what either of us did, though."

Kaede draws away a bit, and leans against the wall. She raises one eyebrow, and Barnaby's heart clenches. This, this expression, this way of dealing with Kotetsu, she learnt from him. This is Barnaby's infamous quizzical look, Kaede-reinterpreted.

"And what exactly did you do that I shouldn't?"

Barnaby hesitates and Kotetsu beats him to it: "Very stupid stuff. I'm talking trying to infiltrate criminal networks stupid, picking up fights with mafia bosses, and toying with fire guns to try and understand how to become resistant to them stupid."

Barnaby gasps. It keeps surprising him how similar Kotetsu's experience and his are, sometimes. But he wouldn't have dared saying that to a fifteen-year-old, either. There's a glint in Kaede's eyes that is slightly worrisome, in Barnaby's opinion.

"You became a criminal to learn how to be a hero?"

Maybe it's her phrasing, but Kotetsu seems to be slowly realising his mistake.

"No! Wait, that came out wrong, I did not become a criminal, merely a delinquent."

"That's not better", Barnaby chimes in, voluntarily unhelpful.

"I never hurt anyone, or actually helped a criminal hurt anyone, and…What I am trying to say", he continues, bravely, oblivious to his daughter and partner's now shared smiles, "is that I thought it would help me, but it didn't, it only led to more problems, and there are better ways to prepare for what's ahead of you than meddling with shady stuff."

The smile on Kaede's lips is still here when Barnaby looks at her again.

"I know that, Dad. I was kidding. I'm not you. Nor am I Barnaby. I'm not going to try and find mafia bosses or Ouroboros members at fifteen."

Barnaby lowers his eyes to her comforter. He knows she meant it as a joke, but still, it stings. He's not proud of who he was during his teenage years. Sometimes, he even feels as if he never really existed as a person before 1977. Before Kotetsu. Thinking back on it now, it seems pretty stupid, trying to find criminals with only a drawing on a piece of paper. He's incredibly lucky not to have been shot on the spot. Well. Incredibly lucky… or just well-protected from the shadows.

"What I am actually hearing from this", Kaede adds, "is that you could teach me."

Barnaby raises his eyes to Kotetsu's. Something passes between them, a shared look that he interprets as I know we're probably going to be on the same wavelength on this, but let's talk more about it later, before they both nod.

"We could", Kotetsu says, "but frankly, I'm not sure what we could teach you that you don't already learn at the academy."

"I think I may have some ideas", Barnaby tries, and, when he receives two curious looks, continues: "I have pretty good memories of the hero training. If it hasn't changed that much, we could… complete it with a few useful things."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Would that help, then? As a new compromise?" Kotetsu asks, gently.

She sighs, then nods.

"Would you also be okay with finding a plan B?"

She glares at her father. "But you just said…" she begins, quite defensive.

"I know, I know", Kotetsu immediately adds, "it's just that…"

"We'd like you to have something to fall back on. Just as a guarantee, you know? Even if you do get a contract, being a hero under OBC's rules is uncertain", Barnaby explains, when Kotetsu begins tangling himself in his words.

"What about under my rules?"

Kotetsu whines.

"See, Bunny? This is your fault, you're the one who put the idea of going rogue in her head!"

"As if I could put any idea in her head."

"Technically, you have. Many times", she clarifies, vile, little thing that she is, and adds when he sends a betrayed look in her direction: "But yes, I think I could. Think about a plan B, I mean. And I promise it won't be 'rogue hero'."

"Thank you", Kotetsu says, with a seriousness in his voice that sobbers up both his daughter and partner. "And in the meantime, I promise I'll find things to teach you about being a hero. And… That I'll try to stop being too meddling."

"It's a deal, then?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's a deal."

She raises her hand, a new look of determination and business on her face that makes her look older than she is, and when Kotetsu shakes it, she smiles. They both turn to Barnaby, who suddenly realises that his throat feels tight. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to understand that they're waiting for his confirmation, too.

"It is", he assures, and if his voice if a bit hoarse, nobody makes a comment.

Somehow, it feels like more than just promising to teach her the ropes. Because the first compromise had been made without him, just between father and daughter. But, here, now, with him in the equation… It now feels like a commitment Barnaby will not be able to get out off.

In a way, it feels like handover. Like promising the city its next guardian.

She raises her hand, again.

Barnaby thinks of the Justice Statue, of tear-streaked cheeks, and of the smile that convinced him, that day, to step into the ambulance. The smile that became his first step away from the past and into the future.

The first time he chose to shake her hand, it led to the best years of his life.

How could he hesitate, now? How could he, when the tears have disappeared from her face, when her eyes have gained that much maturity, and when she now looks at him like he belongs here, in her life, on her pink comforter, in the middle of her plushies and dreams, no matter how heavy he still feels?

He cannot. Because deep down, there's nothing he wants more.

He wants to stay.

Because somehow, along the way, she became his future.

"The honour will be all mine, Kaede", he murmurs.

He doesn't know if she remembers their first encounter as clearly as he does – and for him, clarity in memories is a rare thing – or if she's only moved by the emotion in his voice, but either way, she uses the hand she's now holding to pull him back into a hug.

This time, he's the one to offer the first smile.

Please come follow this story and the whole Neon-Pink arc on Archive of our own! ( realmoftenderness, same title). is slowly dying and it's killing my page setting.