It took Dabi some days to want to see your newborn, his newborn. And even now, he still kept some distance between the bassinet and himself. He was no foreigner to infants, but something about seeing his own son uttering soft coos and gurgles made him uneasy.

"He kinda looks like my little brother." He muttered, peering down at the little swaddle of blankets in the cozy hooded cot.

Dabi still remembered how fragile babies could be, Shoto was the last one he ever got to hold in his arms; though that was more than a decade ago.