nothing and everything

Mikey looked between them. “What.” 

The former cleared his throat, while the latter struggled to hold it together. “Have you seen yourself recently?” 

“What kind of question is that?” 

“I mean…” His eyes flit over to the child happily coloring, then back at him. “She’s certainly tapped into her creative side as of late. Drawing on the walls, handprints all on the windows, and…” Kakucho vaguely gestured. Mikey’s brow twitched, irritation simmering. 

“Spit it out.” 

“The world is her canvas, s’all I’m saying."

"Including your face.” Kakucho side-eyed the lavender-haired man for the comment before shaking his head. 

The platinum blonde blinked. His face? He slowly reached up to feel around the skin, and sure enough. Stickers. Several, in fact. Two on the cheek, one near his eyebrow, forehead and his chin. He peeled one off and looked at it, the word ‘Super!’ staring back at him. “Oh.” 

Looking at his daughter, she continued to color without much care for the conversation happening. Much like her father, her selective hearing was strong. Mikey sighed, “Little menace. Must’ve got me when I was–I mean we were napping. Oi.” 

She looked up at him upon his call, head tilted curiously. All three executives felt a pang in their chest at the devastatingly adorable sight. Mikey steeled himself, attempting to look stern as he presented the sticker. “Wanna explain?” 

Her little brows scrunched in thought. After a brief moment, she beamed as she pointed at him, “Papa, super! Gave stickers, like Mama!” 

Confusion colored his expression until it dawned on him. You’re a school teacher, or were one. Currently you are on maternity leave, cooking her up a baby brother. However, your teaching persona would come out at home, disciplining or rewarding with the same methods, such as stickers. You had a whole tub of school supplies, overflowing with those in particular. And evidently, the little troublemaker had been snooping around in it. 

Unable to hold the stern facade any longer, Mikey offered a small, but rare–Well, rare for his colleague–smile. With a huff, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead before placing the star sticker to the spot, earning him a gleeful giggle in return; the best reward. Ruffling her hair, Mikey spoke with warmth, “I think you’re super.” 

“No, you are!” 

“No, you are,” he parroted, poking her nose. It scrunched up immediately, sending another dreadful pang in his chest. Good thing you were already pregnant with baby number two, otherwise there would be nothing stopping him from ditching work to get on that ASAP. 

The third-in-command cleared his throat. Mikey's smile drops for the second time. “Apologies. We have our meeting with the shareholders in twenty. Sanzu is ready with the car, and the Haitanis agreed to watch over the young miss while we’re gone.” 

“Wouldn’t say we agreed, but beats sitting in on that bullshit.” 

“Watch your mouth.” Mikey warned. “She repeats any of that at home, I’m telling [____] it’s your fault.” 

“Snitching on me to the teacher? That’s low, Boss.” 

“Please don’t take advantage of his good mood.” Kakucho exasperated, rubbing his temple. Ran conceded with a shrug, lowering to level with the little one.

“Alright, mini Boss, you're comin' with uncle Ran. Let’s go make uncle Rin you're next masterpiece.”

Her eyes light up brighter than before, if possible. “Mm!” Dropping her crayons, she pushed herself off the ground to toddle over to the eldest Haitani. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Turning to Mikey, she rushes to him and falls into his arms for a hug. “Buh-bye, Papa! Wub you!” 

Mikey startled a little but soon relaxed, still getting used to the onslaught of affection she was so full of; seeing so much of you in her everyday. He patted her head, “Me too, sweetheart.” 

“Stickers stay on?” She peered at him, hopeful. 

He stiffened. Opening his mouth to protest, the words turn to ash in his mouth at her pleading gaze. With a sigh, he gave a resigned nod. “I’ll keep them on all day. Promise.” 

Ran and Kakucho exchanged a glance. 

—

Murderers, traffickers, scum of the earth alike couldn’t believe their eyes. 

Colorful stickers, some big and some small, littered across the lethal leader’s face like the inside of a child’s school book. And he sat there. Unperturbed. Unbothered. Unashamed. 

Because who’s gonna check a crashout who loves his kid?