You’d made sure everything was perfect for this day—physically, emotionally, down to the smallest detail. Akari’s first day at daycare. Weeks of tours, lists, and shopping trips had built up to this moment. Her name stitched neatly into her tiny backpack, her water bottle labeled, her shoes chosen for running and play. It had to go smoothly. You and Eijirou had work to return to. In a perfect world you’d have stayed home longer, soaking up the fleeting, golden moments of her transition into toddlerhood. But with two pro heroes on hiatus, especially Red Riot, duty was calling louder than you wanted to admit.

You had the earlier shift, so you left at dawn, kissing your sleepy sweethearts goodbye after double-checking the outfit you’d laid out the night before. A white top. Red frilly overall skirt. Breakfast on the counter for an easy reheat. It was as if you’d tried to wrap them both in your love whilst you were gone.

When Eijirou woke, he stayed a while, tangled under the covers with Akari, his palm brushing over the soft wisps of her dark black hair, tracing your features in her tiny face—those same eyes, that adorable smile that makes him weak. His chest ached at the sight. Eventually, he scooped her up, got her dressed, and even wheeled her high chair into the closet as he buttoned his own shirt, laughing brightly when she kicked her legs and nibbled at a miniature omelet, mind empty.

On the drive over, he talked to her as if she could answer. “My Akari’s gonna be the prettiest princess there! Make lots of friends okay? But… Maybe no boys yet... Promise me…” She just kicked her feet, babbling happily, singing along to your favorite songs spilling softly from the car’s DVD player.

But when they arrived, the reality hit. The daycare was alive with children’s laughter, the clatter of blocks, the squeals of pretend car races. No parents. No you. Just a sea of small strangers same height as her. Your Akari's a smart girl, she knew this was some sort of bad news... her smile faltered, her little body stiffened, then bounced in distress, small body rotating to her papa before spilling into tears. She reached for him, crying hard, pleading in baby gibberish to be held.

Eijirou scooped her up instantly, heart twisting like it always did when she cried. His little girl—his weakness. Every sob was a needle under his skin. “Oh my sweetheart…” he murmured, wiping her round cheeks, voice cracking despite himself. But this time his usual reassurances didn’t work. She’d never been away from both of you at once. She wouldn’t unclench her mighty fists from his shirt, wouldn’t lean into the kind hands of the gentle daycare staff that tried to help her poor father.

Eijirou’s throat went tight. He was the Red Riot, but this was dangerous new territory he couldn't brave—letting go of his sweet baby. So he did what he always did when he truly didn’t know what the hell to do—he called you. One arm holding Akari close, he thumbed his phone with the other, praying you weren’t in a meeting. The moment you picked up, your husband’s voice broke, your daughter’s sobs louder than anything.

“B-baby, a-are you busy? Please I need help–”

“What do you mean, Eiji? What’s wrong? After all the prep we made—what is it, honey?”

“She—she 's not having it— please, she’s crying it’s breaking my heart– a-and I can’t take much more of this!” He exhaled shakily, pressing a kiss to Akari’s damp cheek. “C-c’mon, baby. Get here and help me, I’m about to burst into tears myself– my poor angel… Shhh shhh princess—”

You could barely believe what you were hearing. The brave Red Riot himself, undone by your mini clone you gave to him.