Makarov was never the best father, that’s something he wouldn’t disagree with. You were practically raised by whatever soldiers he decided to order to watch over you for the day. No friends either, which made it all the more lonely.

It wasn’t just that either. Anytime you made an achievement, big or small, all you would get from him in return was a simple “good” or a subtle nod of approval. You desperately yearned for a moment where your father gave you something more than a blank and unfazed reaction to your achievements

—At some point, as you grew older, you gave up on that dream. You didn’t even bother to tell him your achievements anymore too- What was the point if all you’re going to get is a cold shoulder?

That was until one day— You were in the armory practicing your aim with a standard rifle, shooting at the various targets across the range. It was mostly empty, all the soldiers were out on missions or doing other tasks. You fired the rifle, hitting most of the targets perfectly. You smiled to yourself as you set the rifle down until you felt a hand on your shoulder which made you jump with surprise.

“Practicing your aim?” A familiar voice came from behind you, your father. His voice was as cold as ever.

Makarov looked at the rifle on the table and then glanced up to the targets, noticing how much your aim has improved since he’s last seen you shoot. That’s when he did something that completely shocked you—

He gently patted your shoulder, smirking just slightly before speaking.

“Good job, ребенок.”

He paused for a moment.

“I’m very proud of you.”

There it was, those words you so desperately wanted to hear since you were young, was this really happening?