"Tenko?"
Tenko's head snapped up from where he'd had it ducked in between his legs, which were curled into his chest, his arms wrapped around them.
The alleyway was dark, the tall walls of the two buildings he was between shrouded out most of the sunlight. He was on the ground next to a dumpster.
And at the end of the alley, a silhouette against the sunlight, was a familiar figure.
Auntie Inko and Uncle Hisashi had always been his favorites. He always looked forward to when he got to go stay at their house. Auntie made the best food, and Hisashi knew how to play the coolest games. They were always so much fun to stay with.
But they were also so kind, and caring. They'd never hurt Tenko, even when he did something wrong. Punishments with them included going to time out or having a toy taken away for a little while.
They also always stood up for him and helped the few times Dad had hurt him while they were around. Auntie didn't work, so she was always free to talk when he called. They both supported his dreams of being a hero, they even would play heroes with him, despite the fact that Grandma Nana had left Inko too.
They were more of a mom and dad to him then his real parents were, even if his mom had tried.
Which is why he almost leaped onto Uncle Hisashi when he saw him at the other end of the alley.
But he stopped himself at the last minute, remembering why he was there in the first place.
With a gulp, he pulled his shaky hands into fists and ducked them behind his back as he sat up straighter. "U-uncle Hisashi?"
Uncle Hisashi walked closer to him, slowly, but Tenko still couldn't help the flinch. The man stopped. "Hey, bud. What are you doing out here? What's wrong? Are you alright?"
With another swallow as a futile attempt to wet his dry mouth, Tenko tightened his fists.
Whatever happened, he could by no means touch Uncle Hisashi. He still wasn't completely sure how his quirk worked, or what it even was. The only thing he'd pieced together was that it was his quirk, and it was touch activated.
And that it could kill someone.
Tenko was silent a beat too long, and Hisashi very carefully stepped forward again, making his movements obvious to Tenko. When he didn't flinch away, Hisashi kneeled down in front of him.
"Tenko?" His voice was barely a whisper, calm and quiet and reassuring. "Are you ok?"
Tenko couldn't believe this. He was covered in dirt. And blood. Everyone who had as much as glanced at him on the street had freaked out and looked away or hurried off.
But Hisashi seemed so calm. And he wasn't asking what happened, he was asking if Tenko was alright. He was worried about him.
The tears had welled up too much by the time Tenko acknowledged them, and they only spilled over when he tried to blink them away.
Hisashi's face somehow softened more, but he stayed quiet. He waited patiently as Tenko took in shaky breath after shaky breath.
He didn't know.
Of course he didn't know, it had only been a couple hours at most. Unless someone had seen what had happened, the police probably couldn't figure out what happened to the house and family that was now a pile of rubble and blood. Even if they'd already called Inko, Hisashi was probably on his way home from work, which meant he likely still had his phone turned off.
Of course Hisashi didn't know.
But what would he think when he did?
What would Auntie think?
He killed them. He killed them all. He killed the only family Auntie had left. He was a monster. A villain. His quirk was terrifying. He'd murdered people. His own family.
Once they knew, they'd hate him. Auntie Inko and Uncle Hisashi would see the freak, the murderer he was, and they'd hate him.
Maybe that was for the best. He didn't want to hurt them too.
But it still hurt.
He opened his mouth to speak, but only a shaky, shallow breath escaped, before he clenched his teeth bit down so hard he was pretty sure he could taste blood.
But he couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything anymore. It was all just... numb.
He couldn't hear Hisashi calling his name past the ringing in his ears, couldn't see his worried face past the tears blurring his vision. He couldn't register anything anymore, it was all too much.
He knew his heart was pounding, his mouth was bleeding, his body was shaking, but he couldn't make himself think about any of it. He felt his panic rising at what was happening to him. He'd had breakdowns before, but not like this.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!
Distantly, he registered hands on his shoulders, his body moving, words in his ears, but he couldn't make any of it out.
At least, not until the felt something touch his hand.
In a sudden jolt of panic, he was up, on his feet, pressed against the back of the alley.
"No! No, d-don't!" He felt the words on his tongue, but he couldn't tell if he was actually saying them or not. All he could think of was that Hisashi couldn't touch his hand.
But had he already? He couldn't see anything, what if he'd already killed Hisashi? What if Hisashi had touched his hand and disintegrated too? He didn't want to hurt him, he couldn't, he couldn't, he-
He was out cold.
Hisashi glanced at Tenko in his rear view mirror as he drove.
The boy was still passed out in the back seat, clothes covered in dirt and blood, hair messy, face still wet from tears and lips still red from blood. But he still looked so peaceful as he slept.
Hisashi sighed and glanced down at his sleeve, which was cut short at about his elbow, the edges frayed as if the rest had simply turned to dust.
The scary part, was that that's exactly what happened.
He didn't know what had happened that put Tenko so on edge, or caused him to curl into a fetal position in an alleyway alone, late in the evening.
But if the panic attack, the disintegrated sleeve, and the boy's fear at being touched said anything, it was nothing good.
He knew he wouldn't have used his quirk. Only Inko knew the truth about his quirk, All For One, and he was only supposed to use fire breath in public.
But the poor boy was terrified, in the middle of a panic attack, and wouldn't let Hisashi anywhere near him. He had to calm him down somehow, and the only thing he could think of was putting the boy to sleep with a quirk he stole a few years back, that let him breathe out a sleeping gas.
He boy might have questions about that when he woke up, but h could worry about that later. Right now, he was going to get Tenko back to their apartment, get him cleaned up, and try and reach his family.
He'd already called both Kotaro and Nao, but neither had answered. He'd also discovered multiple missed calls from Inko, but she hadn't answered when he called her back.
He had a bad feeling, but he decided to save the theorizing until he had more of an idea of what had happened.
But he couldn't suppress the twist in his stomach.
When he finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, he sent a quick text to Inko before gettin out. Then he opened the door to the backseat, picked Tenko up, and after a few minutes of awkward movements and shrugging, and a bit of panic at almost dropping the small boy once or twice, he finally got the kid on his back, holding onto him by his arms over his shoulders, being very, very careful not to touch the boy's hands.
A few minutes later, he was struggling to pull his keys from his pocket and unlock their front door while still holding onto Tenko. But when he finally got inside, he saw Inko in the kitchen.
Except Inko wasn't cooking, or anything he'd expect her to be doing in the kitchen. She was leaned over the counter, hands tugging at her hair, her phone lighting up her teary, scared looking face. She didn't seem to notice him come in.
Suddenly feeling his dread and worry increase a notch in his stomach, Hisashi quickly, but still carefully, shrugged Tenko off his shoulders and onto the couch, laying him down gently. Then he walked into the kitchen. "Inko?"
Inko's had snapped up, along with the rest of her body, and her wet, wide eyes met him, startlingly. "Hisashi! I-I didn't hear you come in."
He felt his eyebrows scrunch with worry. "What's wrong, dear?" He walked closer, resting a gentle hand on her head and brushing down the hair she'd bunched up in her grip.
She sighed shakily and looked back down to her phone. "I-I just got a call from the police."
Hisashi tensed. "What was it?"
There was a long moment of silence, too long, in Hisashi's opinion, before Inko suddenly wiped around to him and dove into his arms, burying her wet face in his chest and letting out a heartbreaking sob.
After a moment of shock, Hisashi wrapped his hands around her, and slowly started rubbing soft circles in her back with one hand, while the other rested on her head comfortingly.
They stayed like that for a long moment, Inko shaking with silent sobs. He could feel his shirt slowly getting wet, likely with both tears and snot, but he couldn't make himself care.
After batching Tenko have one of the worst meltdowns he'd ever seen, covered in blood, hearing his wife cry in his chest wasn't the greatest feeling.
He anted to make whatever was wrong go away, for both of them. But he couldn't. Right now, the best eh could do was be there for the, both. And maybe have his own small breakdown later in his bedroom.
Eventually, Inko's sobs finally quiet, her breath evens out, and her shoulders slump slightly, but she doesn't make any move to back away from him, so his grip doesn't loosen. He decides to try his luck with his voice, relieved that it remains steady as he speaks.
"Are you ok?"
She sniffs and hesitates, before her voice comes out, muffled by the shirt. "No."
More silence passes. But Hisashi is opening his mouth to speak again when Inko beats him to it.
"They're gone."
He hates how his breath hitches at the quiet statement. "Who?"
More deathly silence.
"Kotaro," Inko's voice is small, barely audible, but strained and pained all the more. "Nao. They're- their house, it- it collapsed, or something. And they- they all..." her voice trailed off into another shaky breath.
It's another few minutes before Hisashi realizes he was holding his, and let's out his own shaky breath.
Sure, he'd never liked Kotaro much, especially after seeing how unfairly he treated Tenko. But he knew Kotaro meant a lot to Inko. After all, he'd been all she had, the two growing up in foster homes together.
But he had grown quiet a liking to Nao and her parents, and Hana had been just as much like their kid as Tenko. It was a group he'd spent a lot of his time with during the past six years they'd been dating and one year they'd been married.
Now they were all...
Then, a realization suddenly added to the pain. Because houses didn't just collapse. And Tenko had been the only one to survive.
With another glance down at his still disintegrated sleeve, his stomach was suddenly churning harshly and threatening to come up his throat.
No wonder Tenko had been so freaked out about him touching him.
She almost missed Inko's next shaky breaths under his harshly beating heart. "They're all gone."
With a jolt, Hisashi remembered that they weren't alone in the room. But Inko has yet to realize it.
"No," he murmured, his own voice feeling strained. "Not all of them."
For the first time since he'd first come home, she picked her head up enough to meet his eyes, her big green ones red and rimmed with tears. "What?"
With the smallest, wavering, but luckily successful attempt at a smile, Hisashi nodded towards behind Inko, where Tenko still lay unmoving on the sofa.
She let go of him just enough to turn around, and the second she caught sight of the boy, she gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hands, fresh tears brewing under her eyes. He could tell it took all she had to not sprint over to him and wrap him up in her arms. But she stayed still.
"I found him in an alley," Hisashi sighed fondly. "I think he's had a very long day."
Slowly, Inko stepped forwards, out of the kitchen, and carefully approached the couch. When she reached the sofa, she sat down on the floor in front of it, facing Tenko's peaceful face. Then she carefully rested her hands on his messy hair and ran them down his head gently, a fond smile on her wet face.
A few silent minutes later, Hisashi walked up next to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "How about I make dinner tonight?"
Inko chuckled sadly. "Last time you did that, I had food poisoning for a week."
Hisashi smirked. "Take-out, then?"
She nodded. "Yūshoku's. It's Tenko's favorite."
Hisashi hummed in agreement. "You two'll be fine here alone for a little bit?"
Inko hesitated a moment before nodding. "We'll be fine."
Hisashi sighed fondly. "Alright then. I'll be back soon."
The next time Tenko felt consciousness bleeding back in, he had no clue to how much time had passed. Heck, he had no idea what had happened for longer then he liked to admit.
He was still half out of it. He could feel a fuzzy feeling that kind of overwhelmed everything else, sorta like the one time he'd been put to sleep in a hospital, but different at the same time.
He couldn't hear anything except breathing, he figured that was just him. But he could tell he wasn't on his bed. His bed was usually softer than this, and his pillow was less hard.
Plus it was bright past his closed eyelid. His blinds usually meant his room was dark in the mornings.
After a moment more, he cracked his eyes open. He was definitely not in his room, but he did recognize where he was. He'd slept on this couch dozens of times before.
Had he slept over and Auntie Inko and Uncle Hisashi's house again last night and didn't remember? But he didn't feel Hana next to him on the couch. Usually they were there together.
He groaned and reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, only to feel something soft rub his eyes instead. He blinked a few times to clear his hand into focus, and realized both his hands were in soft black gloves. Why did he have gloves on?
He slowly sat up on the couch and started to pull the gloves off when he noticed each finger of the gloves had cracks running down them, like they had hardened and were ready to crumble at the smallest movement.
The sight of the cracks sent everything crashing back to him.
The cracks. The dust. The blood. The screams. His house. His family. His quirk.
Running. Crying. Screaming. Begging for help. Being ignored.
Hisashi. Panic. Fear. Guilt. Dread.
Then nothing.
He was gasping for breath, desperate for air in his suddenly empty lungs.
"Tenko!"
His head snapped up to see Auntie Inko hurrying over to him from the kitchen.
She was in front of him in an instant, crouched down in front of him.
"Breathe. Slowly breathe. Deep breaths. In, and hold, 1, 2, 3, 4. Then out, hold, 1, 2, 3, 4. And repeat. In," she repeated the instructions, doing them herself so he could match his breathing to hers.
He did, followed her instructions carefully, and after a few rounds, he felt himself relax, his breath coming easier.
"Good?" Inko asked, looking at him, concern in her green eyes. It was suddenly painfully obvious how red they were too.
He nodded stiffly.
Inko breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Good."
For a long moment, they both looked away in silence, neither sure what to say.
"How did I-" Tenko started, voice scratchy, at the same time as Inko said, "Do you-."
They both paused, then Inko smiled warmly. Tenko couldn't help but give a shaky smile back, despite the memories of the day still playing in the back of his mind.
"Go ahead, dear," Inko said.
Tenko cleared his throat, then forced his voice to be as steady as it could be as he spoke. "How did I get here?"
"Hisashi brought you here," Inko answered. "He told me you passed out during a panic attack."
"Oh," Tenko looked down.
So that had been a panic attack. It made sense, he had certainly been panicking. But part of that panic had been because of the panic attack.
"Where is Hisashi?"
"He's in our room." She stood up and started back towards the kitchen. "You hungry? He just got back from Yūshoku's, got your favorite."
Tenko wasn't an idiot, or a little kid. He'd seen the red in her eyes, seen the crease in between her eyebrows, heard the strain in her voice. He could tell she was trying to avoid the subject of anything that had happened that day.
But now, they likely knew. The police probably would've called by now. They might not know it was him, but they knew it had happened. Inko knew her family, her brother, was dead.
And she was avoiding it. Avoiding asking about it. Avoiding reminding him of it. Probably avoiding thinking about it.
Saying anything would be hypocritical though, since Tenko had at least been trying to do that exact thing earlier today. But he had failed.
"Yes," he found himself mumbling. "Yes please."
Then, as she was rustling through some bag in the kitchen, he suddenly about jumped off the couch at a realization.
He thought he'd felt Hisashi touch his hand, he thought he might've killed him back in the alley. But if Hisashi brought him back home, then he must've been fine! Something probably just brushed his hand or something, Hisashi was ok!
He had to swallow back what probably would've been hysterically relieved laughter from bubbling up and out. He didn't need his Aunt and Uncle thinking he was crazy too. But he did allow himself to smile and sag in relief.
A minute later, Inko came over with a plate of his favorite meal from his favorite restaurant, Takoyaki, steaming, likely straight out of the microwave.
"It's hot," she warned, setting it on the coffee table in front of him.
He could hardly care if it was hot or not. He hadn't realized he was so hungry, but the delicious scent meant his stomach was growling like crazy.
He used the chopsticks and dug in, hurriedly blowing on one of the battered balls and shoving it in his mouth. Unfortunately, it was still a bit hot, and he ended making lots of noises while trying to chew it up, being partially dramatic in an attempt to lighten his Aunt's mood.
Inko chuckled, but it still wasn't as bright as her usual laugh. "I warned you."
He swallowed and hung his tongue out his mouth, before quickly repeating the process with the next ball.
She shook her head with a small smile, setting down a bottle of water, then walked back to the kitchen.
About halfway through the balls, he heard the bedroom door open and looked up to see Hisashi walking out of the hall, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He looked tired.
But when he looked up and noticed Tenko, he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, look who's up? Have a nice nap?"
Tenko nodded his head, suddenly at a loss of words for the man who had watched him break down, and yet picked him up and brought him all the way back home.
But they still don't know.
His smile softened a bit, seeming a little more genuine. "Glad to hear it."
Tenko looked back down to continue eating, but his eyes caught on white fabric hanging from his hand. It was really wet in the center too.
When Hisashi caught him looking at it he rolled it up, then turned to go to the kitchen, but not before Tenko caught a glimpse of one of the sleeves, which was cut short at the elbow and frayed. He was certain it hadn't been like that when he'd appeared at the end of the alley.
Tenko sucked in a breath and choked on a piece of food as he realized.
His hand really had grazed something.
And had been very close to actually hitting Hisashi.
And now Hisashi knew.
After pausing for a moment to be sure Tenko was alright, Hisashi quickly walked into the kitchen. Tenko watched as he unthinkingly tossed the shirt into the trashcan and turned to Inko.
He looked back down at his plate and quickly shoved another ball in his mouth, now cooled off much more but not yet cold.
He really needed to apologize to him later, and thank him for helping him. But did this mean Inko knew too? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to say anything around her, just in case.
"How are you doing?" He heard Hisashi ask Inko quietly.
Well, that verified it. They'd heard.
Inko sighed, weary and tired. "I... I don't know, Hisashi."
"If you need to go, I can-."
"I'm fine." Tenko had never heard his aunt snap before, so he jumped slightly at the volume. "Sorry. I just- I'll have time to process tonight, Hisashi. Right now, I just- I need to..."
There's a long moment of silence as Tenko chews. He didn't look up from his plate, but he assumed there was some sort of silent conversation going on between them. For some reason that was common among people who were married, his parents and grandparents had done it too.
Then, finally, Hisashi seems to be the one to cave and sigh. "Fine. Just, don't overdo it. Your hurting too."
Tenko assumed Inko nodded, because he didn't hear anything else.
He'd finished his plate, so he took the moment to pick it up and carry it into the kitchen.
"Tenko?"
Tenko looked up at Hisashi as he rinsed the plate off quickly in the sink. Hisashi didn't call him by his name often, it was usually 'kid' or some variation. Or sometimes 'Tenks' or 'Ko'.
"Yeah?"
"Feel free to say no," he sounded serious, but not stern. Careful, but caring. "But would you like to talk in our room? Me and you?"
Tenko slowly set the plate down in he sink as he thought.
Truthfully? No, he didn't want to talk. He didn't want to talk about anything, think about anything. He'd had plenty of time to process everything that had happened during the few hours he'd been walking down the street. He didn't really feel like telling anybody about the day's events, even if Hisashi had likely already pieced a lot together.
But he knew he needed too. He knew Hisashi deserved an explanation. They both did, especially being that it was Inko's family too. But for now, Hisashi was offering for just the two of them. It also might be a little nice to have something off his shoulders.
Besides, if Hisashi didn't hate him yet, surely it wouldn't be that bad.
That didn't help the lump in his throat though, keeping him from getting any words out. So he just nodded as he turned to Hisashi, but kept his eyes on the ground.
Hisashi didn't say anything, just stood up and made his way through the kitchen, and Tenko followed. The man kissed Inko on the top of the head as he passed, and Tenko saw him give her hand a reassuring squeeze before leaving the kitchen. When Tenko passed by, Inko smiled at him tiredly and ruffled his hair.
They walked into the bedroom and Hisashi closed the door behind Tenko. Then, in silence, the man moved and lowered down on the edge of the bed, then pat the spot next to him, gesturing for Tenko to come sit.
With his eyes still on his feet, Tenko walked forward and climbed up onto the bed next to Hisashi, hands still in his lap.
They sat there for a moment in silence. It was tense, but not uncomfortable. It was almost comforting just having his presence there.
"Are you ok?" Hisashi finally asked, voice calm and quiet. The question was asked in a way that said he didn't have to answer, but if he did, he had to be honest.
Tenko hesitated for a long minute before mumbling an answer. "Not really, no."
"That's ok," was all the response he got.
Another long silence passed. Tenko started fidgeting with his gloves. Even though they had cracks, they'd surprisingly held up so far.
"It wasn't your fault, you know."
The words are so quiet and unbelievable that, for a second, Tenko thought he'd imagined them. But when he looked up and met his Uncles eyes, he smiled sadly. "You did nothing wrong."
Tenko hated the laugh that bubbled up from his own chest. The hard, loud, disbelieving laugh. "Did nothing wrong," he repeated, a solemn sarcasm in his voice. "Sure."
"I'm serious," Hisashi's voice was still serious, yet comforting, but it was somehow even more strained than before. It hurt to hear.
When Tenko didn't respond, Hisashi looked him up and down, pausing at the gloves. "Do you feel comfortable enough for me to hug you yet?"
Tenko looked back up at him, then down at his gloves. They hadn't done anything to the chopsticks while he was eating. But still...
He glanced around and caught sight of a pen on the nightstand. Gloves still on but cracked, he reached over and picked up the pen, with all five fingers just in case.
But nothing happened. The gloves held strong, and although the cracks grew slightly, the pen was fine.
So, still hesitantly, he straightened back up, and didn't even bother nodding or responding before leaning against Hisashi's side. Hisashi took that as his cue and wrapped his arms around him, but he still kept his arms in front of him, away from his uncle.
"You couldn't have known," Hisashi said, resting his cheek on the top of his head. "No one could've known. It wasn't your fault."
"But I should've realized," Tenko felt his fists clench in his lap. "I should've realized what was happening when I- when I killed Mon." He hated how his voice cracked.
Hisashi's hand ran down Tenko's hair. "You were panicking. No one would've been able to think clearly after that."
"I grabbed her," Tenko curled in on himself and he felt tears creep up his eyes, as he let himself remember in detail the day's events. "I grabbed her, Hisashi. I grabbed Hana on purpose."
Hisashi's hand tensed on his head, not angrily, but almost protectively. And his voice came out in a small, pained, but determined whisper. "You didn't know. You didn't mean to, I know you didn't. You were scared, you wanted her. You didn't know what would happen."
A small sob escaped Tenko's lips.
"You didn't mean to kill anyone."
"But I did!"
Tenko didn't mean to raise his voice, didn't mean to start gripping onto Hisashi's shirt with his gloved hand, but he did. And he couldn't make himself let go. He did, however, lower his voice. "I did mean to..."
Hisashi froze. "What do you mean?"
This was it. He had to tell him now. Hisashi would find out what he did, find out how evil he was, then he'd hate him. He'd tell Inko, and Inko would hate him for what he did to her brother. But what choice did he have? At least he wouldn't have it pounding on his chest anymore.
"I... I grabbed Dad on p-purpose," he mumbled, his voice barely audible under his breath. "He came out after everyone else was- um... I-I knew by that point what was happening. H-he hit me with a shovel, I got mad and I..."
His voice was gone. He couldn't form anymore words, so he let his voice fall into more sobs.
Hisashi was silent for a long time, still holding Tenko in his tense arms as he cried.
The silence was horrible, Tenko couldn't stand not knowing what he would say. Even if he already had a pretty good idea.
He'd call him a murderer, tell him to get out of his house, hit him maybe. He'd lose the only family he had left.
Why had he told him? Why didn't he just lie, play it all off as an accident? How could he be so stupid? They were going to hate him now, he just knew it!
He heard Hisashi draw in a slow breath to speak, and he felt his whole body tense, preparing for the words he was sure would come.
"He hit you with a shovel...?"
Tenko's head snapped up incredulously. "That's what you got out of that!?"
Hisashi ignored the question and pulled him back into his chest tightly. "Are you ok? Where'd he hit you?"
Tenko spent a long moment opening and closing his mouth, unable to form words in his shock. Finally, after swallowing thickly, he whispered. "You- you're not angry?"
"Tenko," Hisashi rubbed slow circles into his back, "no, I'm not."
Tenko tensed. "W-why? Why don't you hate me? I killed him..."
"You were a panicked child who had just watched your family turn to dust. Maybe somewhere in your mind you knew what was happening, but no one could be expected to be thinking clearly at that moment. He hurt you, you wanted him gone. You were acting on instinct by that point. It wasn't your fault."
Tenko hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until his chest began to burn. As he forced himself to suck in a breath, he realized exactly how wet his face was.
"It felt good," he mumbled regretfully, able to here the pain in his own voice.
Hisashi hesitated just barely before asking, "Does it still feel good?"
...
"No."
More quiet, just sniffling and soft breathing.
"No one hates you," Hisashi finally whispers. "Your not a murderer, or a villain, or a monster. Your Tenko. And I know Tenko's not evil."
Tenko felt himself sag. He probably would've fallen off the bed if not for Hisashi holding him. It felt so good to hear somebody tell him that.
"I never liked your dad much anyways."
Tenko breathed a light chuckle at that, then the two fell into another long silence. But this time, it wasn't tense or uncomfortable. It was just them, holding each other close for comfort that could be going both ways.
"I'm sorry," Tenko finally whispered.
"I know," Hisashi whispered back, resting his face in Tenko's still dirty hair, muffling his voice slightly. "I know."
...
"Do we have to tell Auntie Inko about any of this?"
"Only when your ready."
...
"Thank you. For everything."
...
"I'm always here, bud. Inko too."
Tenko hummed his acknowledgement, but didn't speak, instead closing his eyes in Hisashi's chest.
"Don't fall asleep," the man's chest shook with a chuckle. "You still need a shower."
Tenko groaned.
But in reality, he couldn't be happier.