#goinko

“You look really pretty, momma,” Eiji stated matter-of-factly, stepping closer and tugging on her kimono. “So do you, Yumi.”

Yumika giggled, reaching for him once Rinko had secured the hifu around her.

“Nii-chan look hantom,” she replied, her hands clutching his haori.

“He does,” Rinko agreed, chuckling as she straightened, adjusting her obi as she did so. “Where’re your daddy and Shirou?”

“Shirou didn’t like his hakama,” Eiji muttered, fiddling with the green cords fastening his haori. “He said it felt funny, so Daddy’s talking to him about it.”

It didn’t surprise her. Shirou didn’t like being uncomfortable, and traditional clothes were practically the definition of uncomfortable.

Nodding, she released a quiet sigh before motioning for them to move.

“Go downstairs with Yumi, then,” she said, smoothing her kimono. “I’ll go check on the others.”

Eiji nodded dutifully, grasping Yumika’s hand tightly and guiding her out of the room.

“Can we watch cartoons while we wait?” he asked, and Rinko smiled.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She heard him asking Yumika what she wanted to watch as they descended the stairs, and she pursed her lips as she approached the twins’ room, hearing Satoru’s quiet voice, the frustration just beginning to bleed into his tone.

“–don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to–”

“I wanna match!”

“Then you gotta put ‘em on, buddy,” Satoru replied, sighing. “I know they’re uncomfortable, but–”

“Itchy!” Shirou exclaimed, and Satoru released a heavier sigh than before. “Don’ wanna!”

“Then how about you and I match, yeah?” Satoru reasoned. “What if you and me wear–”

“Wanna match Nii-chan!”

Satoru stayed silent, and Rinko furrowed her brow as she assumed he tried not to let the exclamation hurt his feelings. But it probably did, anyway.

“Darling,” she called gently, stepping inside and trying to suppress her chuckles at the sight she was met with.

The situation felt so much sillier when she saw Shirou sitting half-naked on the floor, his arms crossed and features scrunched on his little face. Satoru, still clad in his sweats and t-shirt, knelt in front of him, pinching the bridge of his nose. Seeing his frustration sobered her instantly, and she moved to his side.

“Wanna match Nii-chan,” Shirou pouted, jutting his bottom lip out. “But don’t wan’ tose.” He pointed a tiny finger to the hakama neatly folded on his bed, a scowl causing his brow to furrow. “Itchy!”

A dilemma, to say the least.

They’d let Eiji choose his own attire, and he’d picked the traditional clothes without hesitation when he realized that he’d get to wear the same haori that Satoru had worn to his shichigosan. But Shirou’s clothes were new, so he had little motivation to wear them beyond wanting to be like Eiji. Which was clearly the issue at hand since he didn’t want to wear them while wanting to wear them.

Satoru ran his hand through his hair, his brow twitching as he clearly tried to remain calm.

“He’s been saying this since Eiji finished getting dressed,” he explained, his jaw ticking slightly. “We’d decided he wouldn’t wear the hakama and haori because they weren’t comfortable until he saw Eiji, so now we’ve been going back and forth because he wants to match.”

His eyes stared straight forward, jaw clenching and unclenching. Shirou remained thankfully oblivious to how upset his father really was, too busy glaring daggers at the itchy clothing on his bed. 

“Darling,” Rinko began quietly, placing a hand on Satoru’s bicep to get his attention. He turned his head to stare at her, the hard lines of his face relaxing slightly when she just smiled. “Why don’t you go get dressed while I help Shirou? And then you can go see how pretty your baby girl looks in her very first kimono.”

Relief flooded his face as she spoke, and she lifted her hand to run it through his hair, watching his eyes slide closed when her nails scraped his scalp.

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding reluctantly before pushing himself to his feet. His gaze shifted quickly, taking in her appearance and pausing when he saw her obi. “New sash?”

She’d seen it when she took Yumika shopping for her kimono and couldn’t resist when she realized it would match her own, and Satoru’s, perfectly.

“Maybe,” she replied slyly, smirking at his narrowed eyes. “Thought it’d be a nice touch. You like it?”

He stared for a moment longer before releasing a heavy sigh and leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

“‘ll give you a nice touch,” he muttered, his tone drawing a smug grin to her face. “You look beautiful. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Rinko watched him ruffle Shirou’s hair quickly before retreating from the room, his footsteps echoing quietly as he trudged back to their bedroom to get dressed.

“Sweet boy,” she murmured, pulling Shirou into her arms and snuggling him close. “I’m sorry your hakama is itchy. If you don’t want to–”

“Wan’ match–”

“I know you do,” she soothed, carefully repositioning so her kimono didn’t crease while she rocked them back and forth. “But I want you to have fun today, and you can’t do that if you’re all itchy.”

“But– but Nii-chan,” he whined, clenching his little fists and pounding his lap. “And Yumi.”

Humming quietly, she rested her chin on the top of his head as she debated their options. She knew he wanted to match the others, and it wasn’t exactly ideal for him to be the only one not dressed like the rest of them, but there had to be a compromise of some kind. Eiji and Yumika were already dressed. Not to mention that they’d both chosen their clothes. Technically, this shichigosan was for Eiji and Yumika, so she wouldn’t ask them to change now, anyway.

“What if you only wore them for the pictures, then?” she offered. “You can match for the pictures, and then–”

“No!” he cried, tears forming in his eyes now. “Wan’ match–” he cut off as he hiccupped, and Rinko rubbed his back slowly.

“I know, sweetheart,” she murmured.

That complicated things further, but she wasn’t surprised. He didn’t care about pictures. He cared about being like Eiji and Yumika for the festival. It didn’t help that he clearly wanted to wear the hakama, and he just seemed upset that it was itchy.

She scratched his back, humming absently as her eyes drifted to the hakama. He didn’t want to be itchy–

“What if you could wear something comfy and match Eiji and Yumi?” she asked, picking the hakama up and then looking down to see Shirou wiping his eyes. “What if we make it so the itchy can’t get you?”

“No itchy?”

They’d gotten his clothes just a bit too big just in case he hit a last-minute growth spurt before the festival, but he hadn’t. So maybe he could wear something underneath them.

“Mhmm,” she agreed. “Do you wanna wear your favorite pants under them?”

His favorite joggers were starting to thin, anyway, and he was also beginning to outgrow them, but getting him to quit wearing them was a meltdown to deal with another day. He still loved them and didn’t want to quit wearing them, but that also meant he might be more willing to deal with the extra fabric. Plus, it was supposed to be a bit windy, so this could also be a way to ensure he stayed warm.

“Pans?”

She hummed in agreement again, grinning as he blinked rapidly, his excitement growing at the thought of wearing his favorite joggers.

“It’ll be like a little secret,” she whispered, leaning closer. “You can wear them under the hakama so you still match Eiji and Yumi, but the itchy can’t get to you. How’s that sound?”

He scrambled out of her lap, digging through his laundry hamper until he found his prize. There was a small stain on them, but the hakama would cover it anyway.

Chuckling, Rinko caught him when he tripped as he tried to yank them on as fast as possible. Tugging the hakama up over the joggers, she pressed her lips together to keep from giggling when the stiff fabric bunched up in some places. It didn’t matter to her if he looked a bit silly as long as he didn’t mind.

“Better?” she asked, grinning along with him when he just offered her a toothy grin. She held the haori up next, helping him slip his arms through and then fastening the green haori himo. “You look so handsome, too.”

“Like Nii-chan?” he asked, his brows pulled together. “Hanshom like Nii-chan?”

“Just like Eiji,” she agreed, kissing both of his cheeks and then lifting him into her arms as she stood. “Let’s go show the others, hm?”

“Leave it to you,” Satoru whispered in Rinko’s ear as they watched Eiji grasp each of the twins’ hands while they stood in line to get their chitose ame, “to think of something like that for Shirou.”

“It works, doesn’t it?” she replied defensively, quickly snapping a picture of their kids holding hands. “He’s comfortable, and he matches. I know you’ve been dying to say something about the little bulge from his joggers.”

They’d done their best to make sure it was hidden in the family picture, but she’d noticed Satoru barely containing himself every time he caught sight of it again. At least she knew that side of him hadn’t changed a bit.

His grin now said everything she needed to know. But she would take it over the dejected look he’d tried so hard to hide when Shirou had aggressively rejected the idea of only matching him.

“I wasn’t gonna point it out, but he is my son, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s–”

She cut him off with an elbow to his gut, rolling her eyes as he snickered wildly. A few other parents shot them disapproving looks, which prompted Satoru to smother his laughter with his hand.

“You’re the worst,” she deadpanned, fighting the smile as he pulled her closer to his side so he could wrap his arm around her waist. “Just awful–”

“You love me,” Satoru replied simply, pushing his shades up his nose. “But what I was saying a minute ago was that you’re so good with him. I dunno what I’d have done if you hadn’t come in when you did.” He paused to grimace. “Probably would’ve ended up just forcing him to wear the clothes because I didn’t know what else to do. I was just getting so frustrated–”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she countered quietly, nudging his shoulder with her own. “You were doing fine.”

“No,” Satoru grumbled, “I wasn’t. And I should’ve made sure the hakama would work before I bought it, anyway–”

“He picked it out because it matched Eiji’s,” she reminded. “You couldn’t have known it’d be uncomfortable.”

“I just didn’t know what to do–”

“It worked out,” she cut him off. “You were stressed because you wanted to have him dressed before you got ready, and he hurt your feelings, too.”

“He didn’t–”

“Darling,” Rinko chided, nudging him again. “It’s okay to admit it.”

“I know he didn’t mean he didn’t wanna match with me,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “S’not a big deal.”

She just hummed, leaning up to peck his cheek.

“I’ll let you tell yourself that for now,” she relented. “I know we’ve joked about Eiji being like you, but I think Shirou might just be your exact copy.” Pausing, her lips pulled up into a smirk. “S’what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, yeah?”

Her chest fluttered when he snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Which am I?”

“Neither,” she replied instantly, giggling when his grasp on her waist tightened so he could dig his fingers into her sides. Gasping quietly, she tried to stifle her snickers when she noticed other parents once again sending them nasty looks. “We’re in public, darling–”

“Then quit bein’ a brat in public,” he growled under his breath in reply, loosening his grasp. “You’re still such a tease. And your new sash is beautiful.”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see what else is new later,” she murmured, grinning when he stiffened and sucked in a quick breath through his nose. “Come on. Looks like the kids got their candy.”

AN: Thanks for reading!!

I was researching Japanese holidays a while ago and came across shichigosan, or seven-five-three, (November 15), and thought it would be perfect to write something for Physical Paradox since Eiji and the twins are 5 and 3 this year. I know I’m a tiny bit late, but it sorta works because the festivals are usually held on weekends, anyway!

Fun notes that I didn’t make explicitly clear:

The kids’ haori himo (braided cords) matched their eye color. So Eiji and Shirou’s were green, and Yumika’s were blue.

I’ve been asked before about their kids being neurodivergent, and I just felt it made so much sense to have a lil piece of how they’d deal with something related to that. Shirou’s preference was inspired by a problem I had when I was little with how clothes fit and felt. If they felt itchy or scratchy or made me feel out of place, I would lose my mind, and it would be worse if I was still forced to wear them. So, Shirou’s thing with not wanting to wear the itchy clothes but not wanting to be left out or the only one not wearing the matching clothes not only felt realistic to me but fit something a toddler might struggle with even if they weren’t neurodivergent. Rinko’s solution is likely very unrealistic given Japanese culture, but I feel it fits her as a character because she is aware of these little brain nuances on top of the fact that sometimes, as a parent, you just have to roll with the punches as best you can even if it’s not what you wanted.

Also, I tried to keep the way Yumika and Shirou speak as accurate as possible without going too far down a rabbit hole researching toddler speech patterns otherwise, I would never have finished this.