Pale lights buzzed ambient overhead, lending a false sense of sterility to the white tiled floor and featureless walls. Checking his wounds in a public restroom might have been grimly amusing if he hadn't just escaped from an act of streetside terrorism. This would be his reality for some time to come; privacy was a luxury he lost access to the moment he stepped out of Suzuki's apartment this morning.
Exhaustion weighed him down more by the hour since then. He was tired and sore to begin with, and now he could feel all of the stress tightening his muscles, making every motion tense and wooden. His temples throbbed despite the even rhythm of his pulse, which renewed a fading ache through every beat of his heart. He'd broken a sweat with all the running they did, through injuries that only ignited more pain. All he could do was swallow down how parched he was and take stock of himself in this quiet moment. While the room was empty and his privacy remained intact, the injured zoanthrope lifted his shirt for a cursory examination.
None of his stitches had torn in all of the excitement, though some of their gauze coverings were dirtied by the faint seep of scabs. There was no time to clean them now, so it was a small blessing they had already clotted and sealed on their own. Mercifully, his ribs didn't feel any more injured than they already were after slamming into the side of that car; he could breathe somewhat deeply without a flare of immediate pain. It was his left thigh that took the brunt of that collision and he'd been favoring one leg since they left the alley. Surface bruising would appear by tomorrow, a fresh coat of purple strewn across his leg and back thanks to whatever smacked into him. Probably someone else running for their life.
The door swung open just as he began pulling down his shirt, and with it came the clatter of dishware from behind a man sporting a gray suit. Red eyes were promptly hidden behind dark sunglasses. With a brief glance at the injured man, who was busy tucking his shirt below the belt, the suited patron deliberately side-stepped him on his way to the urinals. Bandages and bruises were a strong social deterrent; even the wounded merely caught in this crossfire were seen as nothing but a detestable peek at the grim reality looming over them, and most people tried to avoid any unpleasant reminders. The red eyed man carefully washed his hands below the bandage line, then exited the restroom before his presence became a problem.
Scarlet walls painted with intricate gold trim surrounded him on all sides, done up to make the restaurant appear far more lavish than its price point. With so many bodies and an active kitchen closeby, the building verged on an uncomfortable warmth that the appetizing scents thankfully distracted from.
He navigated to a table with four seats and a child's highchair added to one end, where the mother, father, and daughter were gathered. In one of the empty seats across from them sat his rucksack to save his own spot.
"How does everything look?" Miaka's mom asked when their companion pulled out the empty chair in front of her.
"I'll be fine," he dismissed with a grimace as his stiff joints protested every excess movement it took to sink against the wooden frame.
Removing the baseball cap, his ponytail fell free. He smoothed back dark hair and a few loose strands hung loose at the front, just barely too short to reach the hairband. His hat was set atop the rucksack beside him yet the sunglasses remained; this family drew no attention to it, silently understanding that he had no intention of broadcasting what he was to the entire restaurant.
The place they picked was completely arbitrary─some name making a pun about luck he hadn't paid any attention to while hurrying their little group inside. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but they'd moved a considerable distance from the incident by now. If he remembered the map well enough they were somewhere in Nishi Ward, and had come here to rest once they were far enough away from any potential aftershocks.
Miaka's mother insisted on treating him to a meal and he wasn't in any position to argue. Both parents agreed it was the least they could do after he helped keep their family safe─and after one of them made a complete ass of themselves. He considered getting himself a beer after all that trouble, to make the most of their offer, but another obstacle presented itself: identification. Even if it was only an off chance he would be carded, there was no point bringing up alcohol just to lie about losing his ID in the chaos.
Once again, he was left with the boring options of coffee or tea. Water was a given, and they all emptied their glasses quickly. The group was exhausted, even little Miaka who seemed to be growing accustomed to the resonance between zoanthropes. She fussed less than before when he excused himself to check his wounds, and behaved more calmly upon his return.
Their group ordered with a sluggish hunger and received a kettle of green tea for the whole table. Small bowls of miso soup were also given to each adult as an appetizer, along with a plate of orange slices for the kid. She contentedly gnawed on one, seemingly unaware of the danger they so recently left behind.
"Oh!" Miaka's mother covered her mouth with both hands, then pulled them together beneath her chin. "I'm so sorry. We never introduced ourselves…"
Shit. He'd been so eager to drop the name Yamada Taro he hadn't considered a replacement.
From his wife's exclamation, the girl's father whipped out a business card. Taking one look at the disheveled man across from him, then down at the table, he awkwardly returned the card to its case without a word. Corporate training to exchange credentials on command; an embarrassing reflex.
While the woman introduced herself as Shizuka, and her windswept husband as Minato, their once-again-nameless companion hid the movement of his eyes behind dark shades in search of anything that might provide inspiration.
"Mori," Minato added─a quiet insistence they not get too personal with given names so soon.
"And, of course, there's Miaka…" Shizuka gestured to their daughter.
Beside him, the little girl was busy pressing an orange slice up against her teeth with tiny hands as though she were using it to smile. Miaka's eyes creased at the sound of her name and a real smile bloomed behind the fruit. Weak as it was, their injured companion let out an amused chuff before returning his attention to the girl's parents.
Behind Shizuka and Minato's heads wrapped an elegant mural of golden lotus flowers. "Ren," he answered.
"Ren…?" Minato trailed off in hope of a follow up.
Ren stared back, quiet and stony. That's all they were getting. He couldn't think of anything else.
"Ren-san," Shizuka kindly amended, "thank you again. We really─"
"You've thanked me enough."
"─appreciate your help." She finished with a smile.
Ren lowered his head, more intent to stare a hole through the wooden table than look at any of them. Forced gratitude from a perceived obligation didn't interest him, but this woman's adamance felt genuine. He nodded, accepting her thanks.
"Can I ask what you do for a living?
"I'm between jobs." The polite way to admit he was unemployed.
"I see… I hope you can find something soon." Shizuka poured tea for the three of them once it had finished steeping in the kettle. "What field are you in?"
He wondered the same thing since waking up in a stranger's apartment just the other day. His physique suggested a number of possibilities, but he could just as easily be a firefighter as a hobbyist bodybuilder. Maybe that old man had the right idea about his tactical training in the past, though Ren couldn't shake his doubt that it had come from anything so official as the Japanese Self-Defense Forces.
"Manual labor," he guessed.
This woman's intent to be personable while they shared a table was no doubt motivated by gratitude, but if Shizuka wanted to know the man who upended what the couple understood about their daughter then Ren needed to be cautious with his constructed persona. There had to be enough information shared that he didn't appear to be dodging questions, but his answers also needed to be reserved enough that he didn't look like he was making shit up on the spot─or get himself caught in a lie. Such discretion was for his own safety as much as it was to maintain trust for Miaka's sake, after that rollercoaster of a conversation in the alley.
"We're in the private sector too." Shizuka bowed her head in solidarity. "I'm a floor manager on the retail side while Minato works in finance, marketing for seasonal fashion."
A corporate stooge, just like Ren suspected. Still, that offered each of them a unique perspective in the workforce.
"You're not from Sapporo, are you, Ren-san?" Minato finally piped up.
"No," he agreed for the sake of brevity. "I only got in a few days ago."
"Ah, well…" Minato frowned, as if to choose his next words carefully. "What brought you here?"
Ren straightened his shoulders as an idea struck him. "Business. Trying to find work has been… difficult." He adjusted his sunglasses, intentionally reminding the family of his striking eye color. "You wouldn't know any leads in this area or anything…?"
He left the question open and could already picture the mental math in front of their eyes. Shizuka and Minato were hopefully imagining that this zoanthrope, with his injuries and all, must have left his previous home due to violence. Now he had to start from scratch in a new place and would face the same struggles like they experienced today, without any kind of support network. This was a convenient bit of unspoken misdirection that came as close to Ren's situation as he could imply without making everything unnecessarily complicated.
Shizuka seemed to put those pieces together first. She pulled her purse onto her lap and fished around inside. "Can you get your phone?" she asked her husband. From her pocketbook Shizuka produced a pen and a small notepad. "Sapporo has employment services. I'll get you the number and address of the one my friend uses."
Minato retrieved a flip phone and navigated with his thumb while Shizuka dictated search terms. There was a brief pause as the phone loaded pages in its miniature mobile browser, then Shizuka scribbled down the necessary details─name, street, number─and slid the note to Ren.
"Appreciate it." He passed the note back after a glance. "Could I get the same for a library around here?"
"Of course." Shizuka clicked her pen once more. Minato had already begun the search.
While the adults were busy, little Miaka must have grown bored. She reached a small, fruit juice coated hand for the other zoanthrope's ponytail which dangled over his shoulder near her.
Ren collected his hair from the back and pulled it around the opposite side before she could take hold. He raised one finger at her, to indicate his hair was off limits. Miaka giggled and clutched that finger with her sticky ones instead. Ren huffed, exasperated as Shizuka offered the next set of information to him. Rather than pull his arm away from the child, he reached underneath with his other to take the note. Shizuka called for Miaka by name and guided her attention away. Once the girl released him, Ren pocketed the folded note, took up a napkin, and cleaned orange juice from his finger.
His resources were meager but this was a marked improvement.
With that matter settled, the tea and miso went down smooth. Ren's healing body had already used up most of his lunch in all the excitement, and these appetizers did little to take the edge off his hunger. The Mori's had encouraged him to order without fearing the bill, so he allowed himself ample portions of protein coupled with a hearty meal that would hopefully keep him full for some time. Whatever happened after that was a decision best left to a well-fed version of himself.
Ren watched the wait staff place down their orders with a gnawing anticipation. The appetizing scents made his mouth water in time with a shamefully quick rhythm in his chest. After all that exertion he found it difficult to sit polite and still until everyone's dishes were delivered.
Savory tonkatsu melted on his tongue and Ren's eyes closed with immediate relief. He'd wanted a real meal, like he had in that apartment, and he was damn lucky he could have one again without paying from his own pocket. This dinner had to be cherished as much as his earlier lunch, for now this truly would be his last free meal and Ren was damn sure to make it count for all its worth, restaurant ambiance included.
Those first few bites provided Ren with such languid satisfaction that he scarcely registered that one of his tablemate's eyes were on him. Little Miaka observed the other zoanthrope between bites of her omurice, stumpy little spork in hand. Ren stared back at her as he chewed, then let his eyes wander to the bowl of fried rice at his side. He poached a clump with his chopsticks and placed it on the edge of the girl's plate, so she could taste the difference. Instead, Miaka plucked the sticky rice up and played with it between her fingers. Ren scoffed and took some for himself.
Their table was quiet save for the clinking of bowls and utensils, all of them too tired and hungry to chat. Across from him, Shizuka was attentive only to her own dish. But to her left, Minato's eyes continuously glanced at their daughter. He chewed longer than necessary, each jaw movement slowing to a crawl, before abruptly releasing his spoon.
"This is so─" Minato started, then immediately stalled out. He gulped down nearly half a glass of water before trying again. "I'm sorry, it's just… I'm having a hard time understanding how what you said before is even possible."
Minato looked to his wife for support. Shizuka's head shook with confusion.
"I mean… How does it spread?"
Ren leaned against the table and lowered his voice. "It doesn't spread. We're not a virus." Minato's gaze retreated shamefully. Ren sat back without any effort to hide his disappointment. "It's genetic."
"Really? But neither of us are─" Shizuka gestured between herself and her husband.
"Probably skipped a generation."
Minato scoffed. "My parents aren't either."
"A few generations, then."
"But how does it─"
"Do I look like a damn biologist?" Ren snapped.
Both parents exchanged a rueful glance while their companion checked over his shoulder. The other tables around them were embroiled in their own conversation, but one little outburst like that could easily draw undesirable attention. Sure enough, one family nearby had been disturbed and they promptly turned their attention back to their plates when Ren stared them down. With a sigh, he waited for the neighboring table's conversation to resume before continuing himself.
"Look…" he returned to the Moris with a milder tone, "I don't have all the information, either. We don't get to talk about ourselves like you do. Not openly. We don't have doctors who can tell us these things. What little we do know is from experiments we didn't want anything to do with." Somehow it all felt like another person's words had found their way out of his mouth. He knew this─vaguely─not because it had been told to him, but as an underlying fact much as he innately understood the myths of beastmen from ages past.
"But then─" Minato swallowed something back, then asked, "What if you're wrong?"
"I'm not." Ren's jaw tensed.
A deep tension creeped into Ren's already aching muscles. Did this man have the right to call himself a father with such a disgraceful outlook toward his own child? The two men stared each other down, hackles raised in defense.
"Even if he is…" Shizuka interjected, her eyes pleading, "What's the harm in preparing?"
Minato's eyes drifted to the table, held breath releasing at the touch of his wife's hand over his. From the end of the table, Miaka cooed and the crease of her father's brow upturned at the sight of her. Minato's fingers wrapped with Shizuka's─and he nodded without further protest.
Whether from the tension in the air, or simple want of attention, Miaka babbled more. She reached for the other zoanthrope's arm, her own too short to make the distance. Ren could do little more than glance her way before Minato sprung into action; her father leaned across the table, offering a clump of plain white rice from his bowl. Miaka hardly inspected it, then plainly gestured to the fried rice she had been given earlier.
Minato frowned while pulling himself back. He sighed as Miaka accepted the rice given to her by Ren, though once again she didn't eat it; the little girl seemed more interested in the smell and texture, and was rather content with her rice-filled omelet.
"There's no easy answers here," Ren continued before their discussion was completely derailed. "You'll just have to get used to improvising… Isn't that what parents do anyway?"
At this, a jolt of excitement sat Minato upright. He looked to Ren, eyes suddenly wide, and immediately got tongue-tied as multiple questions tried to spill from his mouth at once. Shizuka helpfully guided her husband's haphazard words into something mildly coherent.
"Assuming what you've told us is true," Shizuka spoke slowly, "then one day Miaka will… go through some changes."
Minato picked up from there. "Is there any way to um… to tell what kind of, uh─what she might… be?"
The man was struggling to walk a fine line between respect and sensitivity, despite thus far displaying neither. However, even this bare minimum effort to acknowledge Miaka's zoanthropy allowed Ren to loosen up.
"Hard to say," he freely admitted. "There could be clues in her diet, I guess?"
Shizuka made a thoughtful, if dismissive, sound. "I'm not so sure… Lots of children are picky eaters. My parents put a lot of work into broadening my palette."
"Oh yeah," Minato sighed, "There's still a lot of food she hasn't tried yet. But─she's turned her nose up at every kind of meat we've given her."
"Really?" Ren asked, amused.
"Maybe it's the texture she doesn't like," Shizuka offered, "but it's true. She just isn't interested in any meat from the land, at least."
Ren watched as Shizuka leaned over to clean Miaka's face with a napkin.
"Would you like seafood?" she cooed at her daughter. "Fish? Crab? Octopus?"
Miaka giggled.
He couldn't discern any animalistic features from her human appearance; there was nothing that set her apart from the average toddler, but that was true of most zoanthropes. Ren couldn't guess what animal the old man who bandaged him up held inside either and they spent most of a day together; there was nothing on the surface of his own appearance that hinted at the striped fur hidden beneath his skin, either. This was one method of natural defense, he supposed; if it was that easy to identify what beast a zoanthrope was just from a glance, they'd all be dead already.
Ren kept that last thought to himself.
"So she might not be a carnivore but you're right, that doesn't say much." Ren rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think there's really a way to find out besides looking at her genetic information, but…" they probably didn't want to have that on her medical records right now if they could help it.
They seemed to be on the same page, as Miaka's parents redirected the conversation to what else they should look out for─and both of them worded their questions carefully in case of any accidental eavesdroppers. All of them had resumed eating during their discussion, and before long their empty dishes were taken away. Miaka's were exchanged for a small dessert platter.
"When is all of this supposed to set in?" Shizuka asked.
"I don't have a clue when she might… you know." Ren made a vague gesture toward Miaka. "Best guess is puberty." That was when the human body experienced dramatic changes anyway, so it seemed the most likely candidate for when zoanthropes would naturally begin expressing any of their previously hidden attributes.
He wanted that answer for himself, too; when the beast in him first presented itself, and under what circumstances. The gap in his knowledge was an immense chasm, bottomless and terrifying─and dammit, he couldn't think about any of that. Not now.
Ren's eyes settled on Miaka, busy with her pudding, and felt almost envious in spite of it all. This child would make new memories every day with her eyes on the future ahead while he was mired in the dark cavern of his past before he could even catch up to the present. Neither of them knew how to navigate the community that should already have been theirs; it wasn't fair they had been denied the right by circumstance, and her own purely from birth.
Selfishness creeped into his gut─and Ren swallowed it down like bile. He made room for caution, and reason, and a gentle fondness that softened his expression as he watched this silly little baby fiddle with her dessert.
"Don't turn her away from the people she's drawn to… alright?"
Unlike him, Miaka couldn't chase down every sense of resonance she felt and had to rely on other people's tolerance to forge any connections of her own. Such restrictions would leave her stranded, empty and combative in a world that resented their very existence.
Minato grimaced. "So just… let her go up to anyone she wants?"
"No." Ren bit back a harsh tone. "She's a toddler, it's not like she has any judge of character… but you have to trust her, anyway."
He looked to Shizuka then, who sat quiet and attentive with her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Trust she's not looking for new parents or a different home… and talk to them. Let them know you know, hear what they have to say. Maybe they'll have better advice." He shrugged and sunk back against the chair. Miaka was attentive too, staring at him with wide glossy eyes and no idea the kind of worrisome storm she'd riled in his chest. "Just make sure she has contact with her own community. Don't let her become afraid of what she is…"
The faint breeze outside on this late afternoon was far more bearable than the stagnant air of the restaurant. He didn't end up with leftovers after all, and didn't feel much inclined to order a fresh meal on the Mori's dime just for it to get cold while he continued walking. The rest and refreshment managed to do Ren some good, though he still felt protests from his body while pulling his arms through the backpack straps.
"I guess this is it," Shizuka said, almost sounding wistful.
"Guess so," Ren shifted his weight beneath the rucksack but couldn't escape the pressure on some of his bruises. They had only spent a short while together, yet it felt strange to part so casually after what they all endured. "I'll check that employment office soon."
"Good luck," she smiled. "The process is pretty streamlined, from what I hear… If you stay in the area, you should join us for tea sometime."
Ren tried to shrug politely; he didn't want to burn this bridge by turning the offer down but accepting seemed unrealistic.
"Maybe you should take Minato's number? You can call or text us if you run into any problems."
Shizuka turned to her husband, who was quite busy watching cars idly pass along the road. She tapped his arm and repeated her request. At this Minato nodded and distractedly began reciting his phone number. Ren frowned; he didn't have a cell phone to add the number to, nor did he have a pen. Keeping the other man pinned with his sharp gaze, Ren retrieved the note Shizuka provided earlier.
"Write it," he demanded flatly.
Minato hesitated, took the note, and lamely held a hand out to Shizuka for a pen from her purse.
While her parents handled that, Miaka waved up at Ren until he noticed her. She held her mom's hand, the other reaching up for him, and when his attention fell to her Miaka strained onto her tip-toes. Ren's head tilted. He showed her his empty hand and the little girl stomped on the sidewalk, straining her arm insistently. At a loss, Ren gently tapped Miaka's palm─and she lit up with an eager giggle.
Warmth spread through him and a fond smile bloomed─then quickly retracted. There was no security here, no assurance of the effect he had on this girl's parents, and the bile Ren swallowed before threatened to rise again. He felt the same impulse when glass shattered in the park, an unquestionable instinct to protect a vulnerable zoanthrope that twisted into a drive to liberate this child from a potentially harmful, even disastrous life. The pain she would feel if not fostered with the proper care already haunted him… but Ren knew, just as potently, that if he followed this instinct through as he was now, the only thing he would accomplish would be running them both straight off a cliff.
Minato pulled Ren back to the present by clearing his throat. He stood awkwardly with note in hand, and Ren pocketed the paper without taking his eyes off the other man. Subtly, Minato nodded to the side─it seemed he wasn't satisfied either, and for once they were in agreement.
With forced pleasantry, Ren said, "Gonna borrow him for a minute," to Shizuka, who laughed without hiding her confusion.
"Oh? Alright," she smiled down at Miaka, still holding her hand, "I guess it's a big boy talk."
Just a few meters off to the side, with enough distance that reading their lips would be difficult, Ren's hand found Minato's shoulder. He squeezed, demanding full attention.
"Listen," Ren began tersely. "I don't want to have this conversation with you again. Understand?"
Minato stared like a deer caught in the headlights.
Ren's grip tightened. "Say you understand."
"Y-Yes," Minato nodded, stuttering, "I understand…"
"Good. Then say what you need to say." He released Minato and folded his arms across his chest. "All of it."
For a moment, Minato seemed to forget to breathe. He inhaled, swallowed, then nodded─a little excessively─as he found the right words.
"Ren-san… please excuse my behavior. I said a lot of ignorant things to you… I have a lot to learn."
"Clearly."
Minato winced and pressed on. "I can't thank you enough for helping my family today… You went out of your way to keep us safe and I was disrespectful. I apologize."
With a quirk of his brow, Ren assessed the man's body language; Minato stood straight with his arms at his sides, his head dipped down into a bow. This apology was official─and genuine.
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" Ren asked.
Minato hesitated, still bent forward. "...That's part of it."
"I'm listening."
Only then did Minato straighten his posture. He looked at Ren with trepidation clear in his eyes, but with another deep breath resolve filtered through. The hands that were flat at his sides balled into determined fists.
"I also wanted to say… that it doesn't really matter to me whether Miaka is a… w-whether she's like you or not. If that's true… I'll get used to it. I will… it's just─"
The strength in Minato's voice wavered. Ren quietly observed, only inclining his head slightly to prove he was still attentive behind those dark shades. This seemed to prompt the other man forward; Minato let out a nervous huff, then dropped the overly formal pretense.
"What's someone like me supposed to do when a man like you comes up out of the blue and points out a problem that I-I didn't even realize was that bad…"
"A man like me?" Ren repeated through clenched teeth.
Minato flinched.
"I mean," he gestured awkwardly between them, putting emphasis toward Ren's upper body, "it's not exactly a contest…"
Ren's brows furrowed. Looking down at himself, and then to Minato, their difference in physicality was stark; the other man was a twig by comparison. Shallow though it was, the concern rang true: he was a walking threat to Minato's masculinity, and that was before forcing the man to confront such deep insecurities in front of a perfect stranger.
"I see."
Minato's weight shifted as Ren let him off the hook, yet tension still displayed across his entire body. He continued speaking only after turning his face away from Shizuka and Miaka's side of the street, to mask any chance of his lips being read as they spoke candidly.
"I wasn't trying to reject who Miaka might be, I just… I didn't want to be wrong─about my own child. About my family… And, if you're right, then what else have I been wrong about… you know?" He took another breath. "But that's no excuse… I need to do better. If you're right, then all those things I said─"
"─Were about your daughter, too."
Minato's head hung with shame.
"Call it what it is. You were afraid of being wrong and I was easy to blame. It doesn't have to be your fault if it's mine, and you don't have to think too hard if you just parrot what everyone else is saying about us."
"That's─" Minato wilted under Ren's brutal honesty. "...That's right."
The poor idiot probably thought a near-death experience would make them all feel closer and got disoriented when it felt like they disconnected instead. He was just a scapegoat because Minato wasn't ready to take responsibility for his own shortcomings.
"Do you have a family, Ren-san?"
Curled fingers tightened into fists against Ren's crossed arms. "No." He didn't know.
"It's just… Shizuka and Miaka… I'm supposed to protect them, to have answers for them, and today… I couldn't do any of that. To leave my family's lives in the hands of a stranger… You can see how difficult that is for me, right?" Without looking up, Minato continued, "I know I should have been more grateful to you… Please understand, I mean no disrespect… I just couldn't believe Shizuka would tell you all of that while hiding it from me. I thought we understood each other better than that. Now I don't know where we stand or─or if I can do the right thing…"
Ren nodded to himself in silence before drawing a long breath.
"Look… whatever happens, that's still your kid," he looked to Minato for confirmation. "Right?"
"R-Right."
"Nothing about her has changed. You're just a little smarter now."
Minato nodded.
"So you still need to do everything you can for your daughter. That's your job, as her father. And if all of that was the truth… I think you'll be okay."
"Wh─" Minato blinked several times, looking dazed. "Y-You really mean that…?"
"Yeah… You're not as much of an asshole as I thought." Ren lightened his body language, if only to alleviate any concern for the nature of their talk. "...Still stupid, though. You acted like a real shit-head, you know that?"
"I know…" Minato lowered his head again. "I'm sorry."
Ren interrupted the other man's bow with a lift of his hand. "Don't be sorry to me. Your kid's the one who doesn't need that in her life, especially not from you… Your wife, either. They're both relying on you, so get your shit together for them and go do your job."
Minato did not seem to understand that he had been released, nor given this man's blessing, until Ren jerked his head toward Minato's family. He stumbled, caught himself, and bowed once again.
Ren stayed where he was, bemused as Minato returned to his wife and daughter with a little more pep in his step. When they reconvened, Minato gave pause toward Miaka─then carefully, nervously, opened his hand for her. Miaka took it without an ounce of hesitation. Both parents held their daughter's hand between them, their smiles at ease for once today.
"Thank you again, Ren-san!" Shizuka called, waving with her free hand.
This prompted Miaka to try the same, only to wiggle both arms helplessly. Refusing to let go of either parent, she compromised by lifting one of her legs and waved with her foot. That managed to get a smirk out of him, then another chuff when Miaka's parents lifted her from the sidewalk so she could eagerly kick both feet in the air.
The girl was beaming.
Lifting a casual hand, Ren gave his own quiet farewell. Miaka was no longer fussing or ready to cry like she had whenever they were separated earlier. Just like those other times, he could feel the comforting sensation fade with their growing distance. He missed it already─as he always would─but its absence didn't ring quite so hollow as before.