Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Contrary to popular belief, Ja’far didn’t actually tell Sinbad everything .

Granted, he was no master of devious secrets like Sin. There were hardly any secrets he needed to keep--his entire life is basically comprised of keeping the company running, making sure Sinbad didn’t try to dominate the world (again), and picking up after Sinbad’s extraordinary messes.

And some of Sinbad’s ‘messes’... Sinbad didn’t necessarily know about. But Ja’far was convinced that this was for the better.

It had been for the better… for a while. Ja’far didn’t change his mind about this until a few days after the world had been “fixed” from whatever Solomon, David, and Sinbad had done to screw it up.

Luckily, only those who had been critical in the fight at the sacred palace with David knew that Sinbad had started the whole issue, and surprisingly, those who weren’t fond of Sinbad were keeping it quiet. Ja’far guessed that they were busy enough as it was and were quite tired of the strife between themselves and the International Alliance. In fact, Sinbad was in far more danger from his friends: Ja’far had been held back from stabbing Sinbad in the face for forcing him to want to ‘return to the Rukh!’ To Ja’far’s satisfaction, Sinbad did get a pretty loud lecture from the other generals all at once and a look from Morgiana that sent Sinbad off with his tail between his legs.

While the world was in a ridiculous amount of chaos, having been literally torn apart, friends still found time to celebrate once more before they were to be more permanently pulled to their responsibilities.

Ja’far had been standing by a table stacked with food and drink. The eight generals, their families, Alibaba, Morgiana, Aladdin, Hakuryuu, and… well Judar had just left after stealing some food and getting chased out by angry, powerful people with an old grudge--had been spread about the Sindria Trading Company’s lounge (a majority of the city was miraculously intact), laughing and bickering and trying to dodge Masrur’s kids that were on the loose.

While leaning against the wall and worrying about whether Sinbad was on drink number three or number five, Ja’far had heard Alibaba relax beside him while pouring himself some wine.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Alibaba had, taking a sip. “All that chaos, and we’re still all happy together. I hope it stays like this.”

“Yeah…” Ja’far agreed, smiling at Yamuraiha ruffling Aladdin’s hair. “We’ll have to keep a close eye on things.”

By Alibaba’s nod, Ja’far had known that he had understood: ‘things’ equaled ‘Sinbad’.

“He really was just trying to protect people,” Alibaba had offered, but he looked sad. “He’s just… willing to go too far, and I still think he’ll have problems leaning on us more.” Shaking his head, he had let out a laugh. “You know, it’s funny; I wasn’t even sure if I should try to go to the Holy Palace and fight… not at first. I mean, everyone wanted what Sinbad did, and would it be just as arrogant as Sinbad had been trying to change it?”

Ja’far had been interested. “Really? What made you go?”

Alibaba’s eyes had softened, and Ja’far had noticed them follow Morgiana around the room, where she had been lifting of Masrur’s children onto her shoulders. “Morgiana. I wanted to marry her, and she wanted to return to the Rukh. It wasn’t the woman I fell in love with. Sinbad was… forcing her to do something. I… I couldn’t watch that happen to her. Never again.”

“I see.” Ja’far’s smile had grown. “We’re all very excited about the wedding.

A few months from now, was it?”

“That’s right!” Alibaba had beamed. Draining his cup, his face had taken on a thoughtful expression. “You know, I wonder… If Sinbad had a family of his own, would this have ever happened? His wife could’ve told him when he was going too far and kept him in check, like Morgiana does for me. He would’ve probably been too protective of his kids to want them to return to the Rukh, and he’d be too busy with his family to do all of these stressful things on his own. He would have been forced to let his friends help and share more of his feelings.” A shrug. “Strange, to think it might have changed so much… you think?”

The thought had never occurred to Ja’far before, but then he had stared at the blonde boy beside him. “I… Yes, that does make sense…”

Alibaba had wandered off towards his fiance, leaving Ja’far to frown in his master’s direction. Sinbad was talking with Drakon and Hinahoho, his smile never quite lighting up his face like it used to.

Though Ja’far had always had faith in Sinbad, he had to admit that this whole event had shaken his trust. He was worried about how far Sinbad would go to do as he pleased… a way to keep him in check would be a Godsend.

Finding him a wife, Ja’far figured, would be out of the question. Sinbad was… Sinbad. Into women, but not into marital commitment. However, the other part of a family…

Now that was something Ja’far could fix.

Chapter Text

For the first time in a long time, Sinbad was actually enjoying himself.

Alibaba and Morgiana’s wedding had been cute with a lovely venue (After all, he’d paid for it himself, what with Alibaba’s puppy eyes when saying Sinbad was like a father to him. And Sinbad was no damn cheapskate.), and the celebration in the streets of Balbadd for their former prince was uproarious. Food and high class drink to go around to every citizen that attended the reception, gifts large to small piled near the newlyweds’ table while dancing, music, and torchlight strung above them lit the early evening sky.

Sinbad sat in a comfortable chair off to the side by a shop closed for the night, observing. Alibaba and Morgiana were dancing as dorkily as usual. Sharrkan was stammering out an invitation to Yamuraiha to join in. Aladdin was making bubbles erupt from his staff for a laughing group of children to catch.

Leaning back with a sigh, he relaxed his arms onto the armrests. Sinbad didn’t know the lovely lady giving him a back rub or the one sitting dangerously close to his left hand, but he didn’t see a reason to protest.

His friends had been acting more distant and cold than ever before since the incident . They were relieved that he was safe--at first. When that had worn off, the tears from Pisti, frustration of Yamuraiha, dissproving glare of Masrur, disappointment from Sharrkan and Spartos, confusion and self-blame from Drakon and Hinahoho, and worst of all, the eyes filled with the hurt from Ja’far had taken their toll. The people he loved most in the world had been betrayed by him, and he was at a loss at what he could do to reclaim their precious trust.

However they seemed to be trying to rekindle their friendship a centimeter at a time--he was grateful for that, at least. But he was in desperate need of some (gallons of) wine and women to take his mind off things, and no better place than a wedding to drown your overwhelming loneliness in frivolous coping mechanisms that never last.

Unfortunately, Ja’far walked up to his side, making the women uncomfortable with his (rather judgemental) stare. When they walked away, promising many returns in his ear, Sinbad groaned at his friend. “Was that necessary?”

For once, Ja’far didn’t spit back a retort--in fact, he seemed rather distracted, biting his cheek and gazing into the distance. All he said was, “Remember that time you were freed from slavery and claimed responsibility for the children that were freed through your rebellion?”

Sinbad blinked several times. “Kind of morbid to bring up at a celebration, don’t you think, killjoy?”

“Sin.”

“As if I could forget.” Sinbad watched Aladdin lean down to accept a flower crown that Kougyoku had made him. “Why?”

“Just wanted to remind you. You know. About taking responsibility for things.”

Clenching his teeth, Sinbad grated, “I’m doing all I can to make things right after what I did, Ja’far, and what I tried to change ended up needing a change! Even if it wasn’t the way I started out doing so... everyone seemed to approve of Alibaba’s solution. What else would you have me do?”

“I don’t mean about that ,” Ja’far corrected quickly. “I know you’re doing what you can. I mean responsibility for… other things. You’ll take responsibility for what’s yours, right?”

Sinbad gave him a suspicious look. “What are you talking about, Ja’far? You’re sounding terrifyingly ominous, there.”

A hesitation. “Nothing in particular,” Ja’far said, and began to walk away. “Just thinking. That’s all.”

Sinbad frowned after his friend, mulling over what he could’ve meant. Ja’far seemed nervous…

He was pulled from his train of thought by a tugging on the bottom of his robe. Snapping out of his reverie, he turned his eyes town to his feet. To his surprise, a tiny girl in a white dress stood there, lilac colored hair floating about her shoulders and topped with what looked like one of Kougyoku’s flower crowns. Big, shining golden eyes stared up at him. She could not have been any older than three.

Smiling in spite of himself, Sinbad leaned down in his seat and said. “Hello there, miss. Do you need something? Have you lost your parents?”

Her gaze was curious. “Are you Sindad?”

He paused, and then let out a bark of laughter. “Sinbad,” he corrected. “Yes, that’s me.”

At this information, her whole face lit up, and she lifted her hands.

Sinbad recognized the gesture--she wanted to be picked up. He glanced around, hoping to find a mother or father searching for her--surely they’d feel uncomfortable with a stranger holding their daughter? But no one seemed to be looking, so he stood, bent down, and lifted her to his side.

“Shall we find your parents?” he suggested, taking a step forward. “What do your parents look like, miss?”

But she only grasped his shirt and smiled at him. “Sindad.”

He didn’t have the heart to correct her again, so just let it go. “Alright, it’s okay--we’ll find them.”

“Samia? Sami, where did you--Oh!”

Another child, this one with paler skin, sporting a flower crown atop her black hair stopped up short at the sight of Sinbad holding the toddler. She stared at him, agape.

Sinbad, who was plenty used to awe-filled looks, smiled at her and said, “Is this your sister? She must’ve gotten lost; we were about to go look for her parents.”

The young girl seemed speechless, but swallowed and nodded quickly. Before Sinbad could put the child--Samia, was it?--down, another kid ran up to the black-haired girl. His skin clearly showed a Heliohapt ethnicity, but his bright, purple hair threw off the image. The boy was panting, white robe slipping off his shoulder as he bent down with his hands on his knees. “I-I can’t find her over there--I swear, we only took our eyes off her for a second!”

When the boy saw Sinbad, however, he let out a strangled gasp, taking a step back. “Y-you’re Sinbad!”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sinbad mused. “Were you looking for this one, too?”

The boy didn’t answer, but Sinbad was almost afraid of the devious grin the boy grew once Sinbad’s identity was confirmed. Instead, he shouted over his shoulder, “Zara! We found him!”

Him?

The bewilderment only increased as a moment later, a tall, slightly older child walked out from the crowd, head held high. She was followed by two more boys and another girl. And… it was like looking at the spitting image of himself in younger, female form.

Feeling rather disturbed, Sinbad took a step back. The children were viewing him with excited faces... except for that older girl, who was practically snarling at him.

“Uh…” Sinbad said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with a free hand. “Can I help you kids?”

From behind him, he heard a familiar murmur of, “Shit!” and Ja’far’s hurried footsteps coming to the rescue.

Before Ja’far could ask what was going on, however, the oldest girl--perhaps about twelve?--spoke up in a harsh tone, “Your karma has arrived, jackass!”

“Zara!” a boy, ruffled hair so black it almost had a green tinge, whispered through gritted teeth up to the girl, “You shouldn’t say that word in front of the kids!”

She grimaced. “Okay, okay.”

Sinbad was gaping at them. “Um… excuse me? Have we met?”

Ja’far interjected, looking at the oldest girl sternly, “I remember explicitly telling you that I would introduce you tomorrow . This isn’t the time or place!”

“You said he wasn’t embarrassed of us,” she snapped back. “He should prove it! I’ve been waiting to give ‘im a piece of my mind for twelve years!”

Now that she mentioned it, there were those in the crowd of merrymakers that were turning to view the disruption. With one look from Ja’far, they turned away quickly.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sinbad moaned, “Ja’far, explanation any day now.”

“W-wait,” the brown-haired girl to the oldest’s right said. “He d-didn’t know w-we were coming, Mis-mister Ja’far?”

Everyone was looking at Ja’far now, who was just looking panicked. “I-he… um… well…” A sigh and a wince. He put a hand over his eyes. “Sinbad didn’t actually… know you existed.”

There was a collective intake of breath from the kids, and Sinbad was only more lost. “And who are they?”

“Okay, just promise me you won’t… freak out,” Ja’far said carefully, raising his hands as if to fend off a snarling wolf. “They’re… yours.”

“My what?”

“Your kids. Your children. Your offspring.”

Sinbad stared. His expression didn’t change. “This is the weirdest joke you guys have ever pulled. The other seven generals are in on this too, right?”

“I’m serious!” Ja’far hissed.

He let out a laugh, feeling his heart speed up. He hiked Samia higher up on his hip--he’d forgotten that he had meant to put her down. “Oh, ha ha. Ja’far, I think I’d know if I had a child , much less seven . C’mon, whaddya take me for?”

Ja’far still wouldn’t meet his eyes. It was hard to make out his low voice in all the jubilation around them. “You wouldn’t know, because I didn’t tell you. I… found letters from their mothers over the years and kept tabs on the women from your… escapades. And, um, I sent them money from that orphan fund I helped you make… and wrote back to them in your place…?”

His speeding heart stopped. “You’re joking. You have to be joking.”

“He’s not!” the one called Zara proclaimed, pointing to herself. “Mister Ja’far had us all take magical genetics testing to make sure!”

“What?!” Sinbad repeated, spinning to glower at Ja’far. He felt all the blood drain from his face. “ What ?! I insist on seeing all of the official reports.”

“Hey, you’re welcome!” Ja’far shouted back, getting defensive. “You’re welcome for saving your reputation and saving you from getting stabbed in the back by angry, unsuspecting mothers! Honestly, with your drinking and womanizing habits, I don’t know why you didn’t expect something like this to happen!” And he seemed to have anticipated Sinbad’s request, so he pulled some folded documents from his robes. “Look--Yamuraiha’s official seal. She did the tests.”

He snatched the forms and quickly skimmed them. A page with his own profile and genetic code details were one page; the rest held images of the children, their medical information, and the horrifying words stamped in red: MATCH--PATERNAL. “How do I know she didn’t do this as a joke?” Sinbad tried weakly, but he already knew the answer.

“You think she’d risk the reputation of Magnostadt to play an elaborate prank?” Ja’far scoffed. “These forms aren’t classified; you can release them to the public eventually, and she’ll stand by the results.”

Frowning, Sinbad demanded, “Wait, how did you get my genetics to test this?”

Ja’far shrugged. “Got some of your hair when you fell asleep at your desk.”

“I should charge you for assault .”

“Stop being such a drama queen.”

Sinbad scowled. Hand shaking slightly, he hid the packet within his pocket. “Who else knows about this?!”

“Just their mothers, the former generals, well, I just told them a few weeks ago, and me! But the mothers… thought you knew.”

Sinbad took a few, staggering steps back and lowered himself into his chair. Samia was frowning at his numb expression, but seemed quite contented to sit in his lap. “Ja’far, what the hell have you done?” Sinbad choked.

“How can you be saying that to me? These are your children! All from different mothers!”

“You make it sound like I forced those mothers to… Have relations with me! Which, by the way, I have never done, thanks!”

The children seemed more shy now, shifting in their white, formal clothes (other than Zara, proud and pissed as she’d been the whole time), and were apprehensively standing in a clustered line. The fact that they were his wasn’t quite connecting in Sinbad’s mind.

In his foggy stage of denial, he said dizzily to Ja’far, “Why… why are they all here now?”

Ja’far shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I told them to wait until tomorrow, and if they did, they could come to the celebration. However, they used the Sinbad patented technique: saying ‘Okay Ja’far, you’re right’, and then doing whatever the hell you were going to do anyway.”

He offered a quick glare for the comment before saying more sternly, “No, I mean why are they all here? In one place? Now instead of before? Why did you not tell me before?!”

“I gathered them here because I thought it time that you meet them,” Ja’far murmured. “I offered them a full ride scholarship to the Rurumu Academy in Parthevia that you founded--the most advanced education in the world--housing, child care, food, and time to know their father. Their guardians jumped at the chance. I didn’t tell you because… It would have been a distraction from your goals…”

Ja’far was looking down now, pressing his lips together in a face of heavy guilt.

Sinbad, rendered speechless, dropped his face into his hands. “I… what? Not even a freaking warning, Ja’far… Is this what you were talking about with your ‘taking responsibility’ ramble?”

“I was going to talk to you about it first,” Ja’far mumbled, but said no more.

Sinbad could only sit in silence for a few moments, calming his breathing. Then, he sat up straight--after all, keeping his composure in insane situation was a skill he had acquired over his years as a businessman. This situation was, however, much more insane than the usual “stopping a war with one blow” or “becoming a god.” Still, it was a simple matter of “shove your emotions in a bottle, shove the bottle in a closet, and empty the bottle later before refilling it with alcohol,” and then “slap on a smile and act like you’re totally in control of this situation.”

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, and offering a strained smile. “I’m sure you’re all just as confused and lost as I am. Um… Let’s start with… Introductions, I suppose? Your names, where you’re from, and your age? Oldest to youngest?”

Ja’far seemed to relax slightly, and the oldest strutted forward. Sinbad was again disoriented at how impossibly similar she looked to himself. Her violet hair reached the small of her back. “I’m Zara, I’m from Balbadd, and I’m twelve!” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “What’s your problem, anyway? Who said you could just go around getting a bunch of women pregnant? Can’t you just choose one damn woman?”

Sinbad gawked at her. “Uh… Sorry?”

The black-haired boy elbowed her in the side when she swore and stepped closer. There was a red headband holding his long, wild hair back from his forehead and out of his golden eyes. “Don’t mind Zara, Father. She’s a little tired. I’m Leo, and I’m eight. I’m from Reim.”

Before he could say more, the Heliohapt boy bounded forward with a grin. “I’m eight too! I’m Seti, from Heliohapt. Did you really conquer seven dungeons? Can I see the metal vessels?”

This reaction, Sinbad was more used to, which was almost calming. “I sure did! Uh, sorry, the metal vessels are gone...”

“Are you really fawning over the guy that fathered children from seven different mothers?” Zara scoffed, crossing her arms.

Seti glared at her with sharp, amber eyes. “What do I care about that? I found out that my dad is the almighty Sinbad, and I get to live with him! You’re just being a butt .”

“I am not a butt- ”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, live with me?” Sinbad tried to cut in.

But the next girl seemed anxious, and walked up next before his question was answered. Her brown, reddish hair was at her side in a braid, and a black hat much like Yamuraiha’s was perched atop her head. Her face paint indicated her Torran heritage. Like all of these children, she seemed to have his eyes… and Sinbad was taken aback by how much she resembled his own mother.

“I am Kendria,” she said, twisting her hands around her smooth, wooden staff. From her stumbling and accent, he could tell she was having trouble speaking their language. “I am f-from the Torran village, and I was just t-training a little in Magnostadt.” Kendria tugged on her braid. “A-and I am… seven.”

The next girl nearly burst when it was her turn. “I’m Rei, from the Kou Empire!” She gave a low bow, black pigtails brushing the ground. “I’m six and I’m happy to meet you, Father!”

“Happy to meet you too,” he managed, trying not to flinch at the unfamiliar word ‘father’.

The youngest boy came up closer than the rest of them, grabbing at the bottom of his robes with wide eyes. Sinbad noted to himself that the boy’s hair was as dark as Badr’s...“My name is Kaito. I’m…” He removed a hand to count on his chubby fingers. “I’m four!” He showed four fingers proudly. “And I am from… across the sea! It’s very big.”

At this, Sinbad couldn’t help but smile. “It sure is, isn’t it? Did you travel on a boat to get here?”

The boy nodded, beaming.

Sinbad shot a questioning look to Ja’far, who cleared his throat. “Oh. Um, yes, I offered to transport him on the next airship, but Kaito wanted to go on a boat, so he went with some trusted merchants instead. He’s from Sindria.”

His glare only deepened. “I had a son in my own country, and you didn’t tell me?”

“...yes?”

Dragging a hand through his hair and breathing out, Sinbad last looked down to the girl in his lap who had been quietly playing with the bow on her dress. She met his eyes, and he said, “Your name is Samia, right?”

“Yes,” she answered cheerfully, scooting to his knee so that she could swing her feet out.

When she said no more, Ja’far filled in, “She’s three. From Parthavia.”

“Great!” Sinbad tried, threading his fingers together. “Well, um, I assume you all start the school tomorrow? I know you’ll have a wonderful experience there.”

“I-I’m excited to study in a different country,” Leo offered politely. Sinbad appreciated his attempt to keep the conversation not so hopelessly awkward. “I can’t really read much.”

“That’s alright,” Sinbad assured him. “There are lots of kids your age that are learning too.”

“Are there sword fighting classes?” Seti bounced up and down. “What style do they teach? I think my country’s style is awesome, but I can’t learn it since I’m not royalty. Parthavian should be cool too, though!”

“No swordplay classes at the academy,” answered Sinbad. “But I know someone who could teach you, if you want.”

“Do we really get to live with you?” Rei asked next, gripping her Kou styled robes enthusiastically.

“I-I…” He looked to Ja’far. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided who lives in my own house, Ja’far.”

“Their rooms are already set up with belongings delivered.”

“Ja’far!”

“It’s not like you don’t have plenty of space! They’re your kids.” Eyes practically glowing, Ja’far growled in that assassin voice that still made Sinbad shiver, “You take responsibility for your actions, right?”

“W-well of course I do, but honestly, one day I find out that I have seven children and then they move in with me the same night?!”

Ja’far shrugged. From the smirk he was obviously trying to hide, Sinbad got the annoyed notion that, after getting over the initial guilt and irritation, Ja’far was enjoying this. “You created your own country, Sin, and watched over its people. You helped raise Sharrkan, Yamuraiha, Masrur, Hinahoho’s children, those former slaves, and myself. I don’t think seven kids will be the death of you. You were depressed that you can’t see a further destiny--here’s a new one. You’re welcome.”

Sinbad narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You’re getting back at me for something.”

“Oh, for many things. This specific one is for, hmm, never listening to me, which led to almost destroying the world and having seven illegitimate children.” Ja’far gave a wave as he hurried off. “I’ll explain the situation to Aladdin and get him to set up transportation magic for you all in an hour. They have a bedtime and it’s a school night, after all. Have fun!”

And looking around at his sudden seven children that were staring up at him expectantly, Sinbad had never felt more screwed in his life.

Chapter Text

“So, ah, welcome,” Sinbad offered as the transportation magic fizzled out. With a smirking wink, Aladdin disappeared a second after. They stood before Sinbad’s estate--a mid size mansion, large, clean, and white marble with a garden that the children would surely play in or destroy. A blue dome rose from the middle of the building, replicating the palace that once was his in Sindria. It was honestly too much smaller than the living area of Sindria’s palace--it had about eight guest rooms so that all generals could visit at once (if he’d be so lucky ever again), six bathrooms, two master bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, living, dining, and sun rooms, and an expansive library. He owned several acres of land, all forest on a lake with hot springs down a wooded path. While Sinbad had a sort of apartment in the trading company tower for nights when work went late that he used to use more often than this house, it looked like coming home on time was going to become essential from now on.

Sinbad was still carrying the youngest--she didn’t seem to want to let go. Rei let out a squeal at the sight of the house and took off towards the door, Seti and Kaito close on her heels. While Leo and Kendria looked around in wonder, Sinbad caught Zara’s mouth part with a slight smile. Which, of course, morphed into an unimpressed scowl as soon as she caught his look.

He sighed--wasn’t the first time a woman had glared at him like that. He pushed open the double doors past the pillars framing the front stairs. Their footsteps echoed on the gray, blue-speckled granite tile floors. “Let’s go find your rooms to get you guys to bed, okay? You have school tomorrow. Well…”

Sinbad frowned in thought at Kaito and Samia. They were too young… perhaps Ja’far had some kind of child care planned for them. He’d call Ja’far in the morning.

The children clustered around his feet followed him past the entryway, past the connected living room, dining room and kitchen. Down the left hall were a few of the guest bedrooms. When Sinbad opened the first, sure enough, two twin beds had been placed inside instead of one queen size. Honestly, he should take away Ja’far’s set of keys. “I assume this is for two of you girls. Whose belongings are where?”

Rei peered around the dark, wooden door. “That’s mine! And I know that jacket on the other bed is Samia’s.” She ran inside, giving a twirl so that her robes looked like wings. “Our very own room, Samia! It’s so big!”

Sinbad smiled in spite of himself, and put the three year old down on the carpet. “Set up your things however you like, I suppose. And, um, in the bathroom across the hall, brush your teeth, and then change into your pajamas before bed, okay? The girls can have the bathroom closest to the kitchen, and the boys get the farthest.”

Samia pouted at being set down, but seemed to understand. Luckily, Zara stepped forward took her small hand. For once, the older girl did smile, directed at her sister. It was a lovely smile, but maybe because he was comparing it to the only other expression he’d seen on her face. “I’ll help you get on your pajamas, okay? I think Mister Ja’far got us some new ones! Let’s find your toothbrush…”

Letting out a breath of relief, Sinbad beckoned the rest out to the next room for the other two girls, where Kendria carefully set her staff down on her nightstand and ran a hand over her quilt in fascination. Now that Sinbad looked closer in the light of the moon glowing from their window, each of them had a desk, like the room before, and atop the desk was a pile of books, notebooks, and pens beside each of their bookbags. Ja’far really did think of everything. How long had he been planning this?

Finally, the boys’ room. Three beds were here. Sinbad knew he enough rooms for each of them, but he figured Ja’far had set it up this way for all the children to learn how to share and get along better. “This is for you boys.”

With a cheer, Seti hopped up onto his bed and rolled around. Leo was smiling, heading straight to get ready for bed like he’d been told. Kaito stayed by Sinbad’s side, however, examining the last bed with confusion.

“I… get my own bed?” he asked.

Sinbad’s heart plummeted, coming to a deeper realization of just how little he knew about these kids. How many of them had lived in poverty despite Ja’far’s money? Had the mothers all used the money for the children, or for themselves? Were the mothers all still alive? How many children could he have saved from that?

“Absolutely,” Sinbad told him firmly. “Your own bed, your own desk, your own dresser!”

His mouth fell open, and he squeezed Sinbad’s leg in a hug. “Thank you, Papa!”

For a moment, the words threw off Sinbad so much that all he could do was swallow thickly. Finally, he managed, “Y-you’re welcome, kiddo.” Clearing his throat, he stepped back towards the door reaching the handle in a desperate need to escape. “Get straight to bed, now, okay? Big day tomorrow.”

Sinbad practically ran from the room to his own, where he took one of the longest, hottest showers of his life. Made especially long by how he leaned against the shower wall for about ten minutes, just letting the water stream down his body while he stared blankly at the wall. This was supposed to be therapeutic somehow, help him think through what had just happened in the last two hours. But most of the thoughts in his head resembled shrieking incomprehensibly.

After pulling on a comfortable shirt and loose pants, he dragged a hand down his face. On pure instinct, his feet were already walking to the kitchen, where he sluggishly opened the magical cooling box and automatically reached upward-

Instead of closing around the closest bottle, his fingers brushed against a note. With a frown, Sinbad looked drearily at the shelf to see it barren of all its beautiful, previous alcohol. In its place was a single note in Ja’far’s sharp handwriting:

Nice try

He deadpanned. “I hate you.”

The note didn’t answer.

Sinbad lowered himself heavily into the nearest dining chair, dropping his head into his hands. True, he shouldn’t have gone for the liquor anyway. It wouldn't do well to have a hangover with seven children to herd around.

I’m already a deadbeat to them , he depressingly mused to himself. Even if this is an insane, sudden, ridiculous situation that I never wanted… I don’t want to graduate to alcoholic deadbeat.

Breathing out shakily, his hands slid back to grip his hair that was still damp from the shower. What the hell made Ja’far and the other generals think he could handle something like this? Did it mean they were regaining faith in him, or were they trying to punish him somehow? Surely, these children would be better off with their mothers or in an adoptive family that actually knew what to do with them. An adoptive family that didn’t have horrendous drinking habits, a new woman in their bed every week, and that small issue of screwing over the entire world. If his friends mistrusted him so much for what he’d done, why would they think, in any universe, that they could trust him in being a single father of seven kids he’d never met?

I had better find a damn good babysitter, unless Ja’far has already gotten one and taken over more of my life , Sinbad thought, grimacing. I can’t do this. I’m the last man in the world suited for fatherhood, and they fucking know it.

Shaking his head, he lowered it onto the table. But I’ve held the weight of comrades, countries, the entire world on my shoulders for most of my life. Why are seven children any more difficult?

His shoulders shuddered with his breaths, but behind his arms, he felt a wry smile. Because I’ve proven that I can’t be trusted with the lives of anyone, much less my own children that require individual attention. Because I have a God complex that nearly got everyone I loved killed. Because I’m a complete mess .

But even when he’d made horrible mistakes in the past and been an utter mess for them afterwards, he’d managed to push through and achieve great feats. Why was this the first time he’d ever felt as if there was something he couldn’t do?

He had gotten more life-altering surprises in his life. Why did he feel like bolting at the word “Papa”?

“M-Mister S-Sinbad?”

He lifted his head from his arms and blinked blearily over at the voice. It was Kendria, clutching her smooth staff like a security blanket, dressed in a little, blue nightgown with tears streaming down her face. She seemed to be saying his name out of surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to find him out of his room.

Immediately, he stood and pushed away from his chair, crouching down in front of her and reaching out. The little girl flinched and scurried away his hand like a stray cat. Alright, so this one didn’t like physical contact. At least, not from… strangers.

That’s right. He had to remember that he was just as much a stranger to them as they were to him.

Realizing his mistake, Sinbad lifted his hands and said in his most soothing tone, “I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just concerned.” He dipped his head down further to look her in her tearful eyes. “Are you alright? Did you have a bad dream?”

Slowly, she nodded.

He sat down heavily against the base of the counter by the sink. Bad dreams were something Sinbad could understand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I…” Her voice trailed off in a hiccup, and he realized she probably already had enough trouble trying to speak the native language when she wasn’t crying. Kendria gave up and launched herself into his lap, where she curled up, shivering.

After he got over the shock, Sinbad, wrapped his arms around her and pet the hair that was now down from her earlier braid. She didn’t say anything, but she gripped his shirt harder when he hugged her, and he hoped whatever little he could do was helping. Kendria was still shuddering against his chest, but not as often, and her breaths had started to even out. Her legs loosened, letting her feet fall on top of his crossed ones--

Where he saw the pink, shining scars around her ankles.

She must’ve felt his strangled gasp at the sight, and followed his gaze. Kendria self-consciously pulled down her nightgown over her ankles. Too late--Sinbad couldn’t help but give her the look of utter horror.

She had been a slave.

My own child was a slave and I wasn’t there to save her.

Kendria finally managed, “I-I dream th-that the b-bad men… got me again. Ran out o-of the room…”

“I’m sorry,” he heard himself say, voice far away. “I’m so, so sorry, Kendria.”

She looked confused as to what he was apologizing for. Sinbad reached up and pushed his hair away from his neck, pulled down the collar of his shirt. His own scars from the metal collar he once wore glinted in the moonlight--fading, but still there. They had nearly disappeared by the time he had gone to the Sacred Palace, but for some reason, when he’d reformed himself… they looked as if he’d only gotten them a month ago. It was as if his vivid memories of torturous weeks under the cruelty of Madara had been so subconsciously present in his mind that his new body had the nightmares etched permanently onto his skin.

The girl had a sharp intake of breath at the sight of his scars, reaching up to touch his neck with small hands. “Y-you… too?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, taking her little hand in his. “Me too.”

It was as if something had shifted, like a wall had crumbled that he hadn’t known was there to begin with until sunlight shone in its place. The girl finally relaxed, leaning more fully against him as she put her little hand up to his, as if comparing the size. They were quiet for a time, but it wasn’t awkward. A peaceful quiet, with just the moon and stars keeping watch.

Soon, she noticed his hair trailing on the floor, and reached for it. “Pretty!”

“You think so?”

She nodded, seeming to brighten a bit. After rubbing the tear streaks from her face, she reached around his head, gently pulled his hair to his front right, and began to braid. Sinbad let her, setting his head back against the wood and watched her hands weave back and forth. With each movement, she seemed to become more calm and content. She wasn’t bad at braiding, either--especially for a seven-year-old.

Sinbad let her find a band to hold his braid once she finished, and then suggested, “Let’s get you back to bed, okay? You’re going to need all the sleep you can get for your first day of school-”

“Papa?”

“Sindad?”

The two of them whirled to see Kaito and Samia peeking around the corner.

Gently easing Kendria off of his lap, Sinbad stood with a sigh. “What are you two doing out of bed?”

Samia just reached upward, big, glowing eyes expectant. So, of course, he had to pick her up. Kaito twisted his tiny hands together. “I… I can’t sleep! I miss Mama…”

At this, Samia leaned her head against his shoulder. “Ma.”

His panic seemed to be kicking back in, but he forced himself to think. Whenever he couldn’t sleep as a child, or when he’d been woken by Rurumu for screaming from nightmares of bloodshed and slavery...

“Sit down at the table,” he told them quietly, setting Samia down in the nearest seat. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Sinbad got busy, pouring cups, putting them on the heater. Once ready, he let the tea steep before pouring in the cream. (One for himself, because why not?) In a minute, he checked to make sure the cups weren't too hot, and then gave one milk tea to each. “Here--this will help.”

The children took the cups eagerly. Pulling out a seat beside the boy, Sinbad sat down and watched them take gulps of the warm milk tea. He leaned his cheek on a hand. “Maybe I could help you write to your Ma, Kaito and Samia, or even better, call her. How about that?”

Kaito set down his cup, blinking up at Sinbad in confusion. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Auntie Velma said I can’t see Mama or have her answer me,” Kaito said, voice trailing off sadly. “She is with Rukh, she says.”

Sinbad sat up, paling and feeling like an insensitive idiot. “O-oh. I’m… I’m so sorry, Kaito. But you know…” he leaned closer to the little boy. “The Rukh are all around us. I’m sure your mama is watching over you always.”

The boy’s eyes were wide, and then he broke out into a huge grin. “You think so?”
“I know so.” He ruffled Kaito’s hair.

“It’s true,” Kendria confirmed, offering a shy smile to her little brother. “My mother watches me from the Rukh too!”

“Oh,” Sinbad muttered, swallowing. Two of their mothers were dead… and so young, too. Would he have been able to keep them alive, had he known? “You know, so does mine.”

“Really?” Kaito seemed much more reassured by this, and Kendria scooted closer.

“Do you ever talk to her?” Kendria asked. “I talk to my mom, sometimes, even though I know she can’t talk back.”

Sinbad hesitated, trailing a finger around the lip of his mug. “I haven’t for… a while.” Why haven’t I?

Samia had finished her tea, and set her cup down with a satisfied sigh. “What is Rukh?”

Frowning thoughtfully, Sinbad tried, “It’s… the life energy around us, made from every living thing and the spirits of all those before us.”

Samia’s frown matched his own, in a far more adorable version. “Mama said she wanted to ‘go back to the Rukh.’ She was very happy about it,” noted Samia. “She has not come back from it yet.”

Sinbad, who had been taking a drink from his mug, choked and nearly spat it all over the table. The children seemed startled by this reaction, but he quickly set the cup down and pounded on his chest a few times. After clearing his throat, he croaked, “Samia, when did your mother say that?”

The girl squished her cheeks with her hands, as if this would help her remember. “When flowers come up.”

Last spring. Four months ago. The world tipped. “Oh,” he choked, gripping the table. “I see.”

And as he watched the small child carefully pick up the cup of comfort he’d made her, all he could think was:

I killed her mother.

Sinbad hadn’t even realized that those who considered suicide might have taken his encouragement to ‘return to the Rukh’ as their last push and… before they had managed to stop David... And he’d made the rest of the world want to ‘return to the Rukh’--hadn’t yet thought of the fact that it meant these children had wanted to as well. That he’d forced them to want something they hadn’t wanted.

Sinbad’s eyes locked on Kendria...and the markings from her chains.

He could see his knuckles white on the table, clenched to keep from shaking. His stomach churned. “W-well just know… I’ll do my best to take care of you.” He stood. “And that means you guys gotta head back to bed, okay?”

They agreed quite readily, except Kaito, who bounced in his seat. “But what about a bedtime story?”

“I’ll tell you any kind of story you want if tomorrow night you get a good sleep tonight.” He put his hands on their backs lightly and herded them towards the hall. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, Papa!”

“Dreams, Sindad!”

Kendria smiled last. “Goodnight, Dad.”

Sinbad watched until they had tottered back to their rooms, and then made his way to his own. At first, he sat in his bathroom, sure he was going to be sick in the toilet, but managed to fight down the bile and pull himself into bed. The clock showed that it was past one in the morning.

And he laid awake in bed for several hours after, the whispered wailing of his ghosts refusing to let merciful sleep take him.

Chapter Text

“Wakey, wakey! You’ve got dad stuff to do!”

“Ughhhhhh…”

“You’ve got kids to get ready and get to school in an hour and a half!”

“Mmph.”

“It’s a new day! Sun is shining! C’mon, Uncle Sinbad--where’s that energy? Get up! Wait, you’re not naked under there, are you?”

Finally, Sinbad turned over on his stomach just enough to open one eye. Aladdin was poking him with his staff curiously, and broke into a grin once he got Sinbad’s acknowledgment.

“What,” Sinbad grumbled into his pillow, “are you doin’ here?”

“Mister Ja’far sent me to wake you up and help you! For old times’ sake. He says he already let people know that you were going to be starting work later than usual today. Wow, you look terrible!”

“‘Fanks.” Sinbad stuffed his face into his pillow and let out a groan. “For frick’s sake, Aladdin. I got three hours of sleep because those kids kept waking up. I don’t energy.”

“That’s too bad. I wonder if that’s how their mothers felt, raising them alone all this time.”

Sinbad growled, “Their mothers didn’t have seven of them, Aladdin!”

“True.” He didn’t sound very sympathetic. Aladdin whacked Sinbad lightly on the head with his staff. “But you do! So get up! I’ll even make breakfast!”

Narrowing his eyes at the teenager, Sinbad shakily pushed himself up on an elbow. Aladdin had never been a very hostile sort, but Sinbad was quickly noticing how surprisingly passive aggressive he could be. Maybe it was a (former) Magi thing--Yunan sure was passive aggressive enough, though Judar tended to be more… aggressive aggressive. And the one in Reim still wouldn’t join the International Alliance.

“Fine, fine.” Grasping the edge of his bed, he heaved himself over and managed to gain purchase on his carpet. “Lemme take a shower…”

Ten minutes later, Sinbad was blindly brushing out his hair and pulling on his robes before stumbling out to the kitchen. There, as promised, Aladdin was humming while waving his staff toward the frying pan to stir around the scrambled eggs. With the flick of a finger, the pancakes flipped on the heating panel. “Done with your beautifying? Go wake up your kids! Ja’far says their school uniforms are in their wardrobes.”

Sinbad frowned. “Oh yeah, did Ja’far say if he had plans for Samia and Kaito? They’re too young for school.”

Aladdin raised an eyebrow at him as glasses of orange juice floated out of the cooler. “No. Honestly, Uncle Sinbad, they’re your kids, not Mister Ja’far’s responsibility.”

“I’m not… they can’t… ugh, forget it,” he gave up, too tired for the argument. Sinbad made his way down the hall instead, frowning at the three doors. Maybe Zara seemed to hate his guts, but judging from last night, she also was willing to help out with the kids. Ja’far had said that the kids had been gathered waiting for him for a few days, so she’d known them slightly longer. Bracing himself, he walked to her door first and pushed it open.

Kendria was curled up in a small ball under her covers, clutching her spiraled, wooden staff to her chest. On the other bed, Zara slept on her back, quilt almost covering her face and hair spread across her sheets in a mess. On an impulse, he reached out and smoothed some out of her eyes. “Wake up, kiddo. Gotta get ready for school, okay?”

“Mmguhfukoff,” she replied, blindly slapping his hand away and turning her back to him.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Aladdin is making pancakes.”

“Ya coulda led wit’ tha’.”

He took that advice to wake up Kendria.

She seemed to be slightly more of a morning person. When he gently shook her shoulder and mentioned pancakes, she turned and stretched with a smile. “Good morning, Dad.”

The word still sent a jolt of nausea through him, but he tried for a grin anyway. “Good morning. Ready for your first day?”

Smile fading slightly, her fingers curled around her staff more tightly. “I-I still have some t-troubles with language…”

“You’ll do great,” he assured her. “Your brothers and sisters will be there to support you. Now get on up!”

Rei was already out of bed and bright eyed, bag packed and uniform clutched to her chest. He’d picked out the uniforms for the school himself when he had it built, making sure they kept up with the latest fashions and were something that anyone could pull off. At least his fashion sense was still something he could be proud of. “Good morning, Father!” she said right away.

“Good morning, Rei. You sure are sunshiney this morning,” he replied, placing a hand on her head.

“It’s my first day of school!” she cheered. “I get to go to the only school for commoners in the world! I’m going to make so many friends!”

Her attitude almost made him more awake. “Yes you are! Want some breakfast?”

“Oh yes! But a bath first,” she said, blinking up at him.

“Um, you and your sisters might have to take turns,” Sinbad said, not having thought of the problem that most of them wouldn't know how to use the new magical bathing device: the shower.

“Samia will need help taking a bath,” came Zara’s voice from the doorway, and he turned to see her with a hand on her hip and messy hair falling down to her mouth, where she blew it away with a puff of air.

Sinbad cleared his throat. “Right. Yes, I know. Um…”

An exaggerated roll of the eyes. “ I’ll help her,” Zara quipped, striding forward into the room. “You can help Kaito.”

“That was the plan,” he lied smoothly, beating her to Samia’s bed, where the little girl lay on her side and hugged a stuffed puppy. Squeezing Samia’s shoulder lightly, Sinbad murmured, “Good morning, Samia. Want some pancakes?”

He didn’t get an answer; she just slowly opened her eyes and held up her arms. As she wished, he picked her up and walked to the dresser to find her clothes. Just as his hand was on the drawer, he heard Samia yawn, felt her head fall on his shoulder. He froze.

It’s as if it were finally hitting him full force: This is my child. This is my life now.

Holy shit.

Zara’s drawling voice jarred him back to reality. “Sinbad? Forget how to open a drawer?”

“How does all that sass fit into an twelve year old body?” he muttered, picking up the first little, yellow dress he saw.

“I heard that.”

“You’re welcome for my awesome hearing genetics,” he said, passing her little sister to her. “I’ll go wake up the boys.”

It took only a few steps towards the boy’s room for him to hear shouting, an absolutely predatory snarl, and a BAM! Sinbad rushed to the room and pushed the door open. “Is everyone okay?”

Seti looked up at the door from where he was holding Leo’s foot and trying to drag him from bed. “Of course, Dad. Why?”

Leo let out a demonic growl and kicked Seti off of his foot before burying his head under two pillows. Seti went for his other-

“Seti, don’t grab Leo like that,” Sinbad said quickly, stopping Seti’s reaching hand. “Or anyone, for that matter. What are you doing?”

His pout looked like a drenched puppy. “I heard you waking them up. Just tryin to help…”

Pinching his nose, Sinbad managed, “I appreciate the thought, Seti. But you don’t have to wake your siblings up, and you definitely shouldn’t by using physical force, okay?”

“Okay, Dad.”

He didn’t expect it to be that easy. “Oh. Well. Good! Why don’t you get yourself ready for school, okay?”

“Okay! But beware of grumpybones, here. His bite is worse than his bark, if ya ask me-”

Seti was silenced by a glare from Leo that sent him bolting from the room.

With a sigh, Sinbad gathered his patience and carefully removed a pillow from over Leo’s head. “Good morning, kiddo. Sorry about that. Want some pancakes?”

“Morning, Father!” was the only response he got before Leo ran out of the room after his brother at the whiff of food.

One more , he thought encouragingly, making his way to Kaito’s bed. It seems all the commotion hadn’t even made Kaito stir. He was in a dead sleep, with his face so deep in his pillow that Sinbad was worried about his breathing.

“Kaito? Wake up, buddy. Want some food?”

Nope.

Sinbad shook his shoulder gently. “Good morning, Kaito. Time to get up.”

Three minutes later, Kaito finally entered the world of the living.

“Morning, Kaito,” Sinbad repeated to the little boy sitting up and rubbing his amber eyes.

Kaito crinkled up his tiny nose. “Gmorinapa…” A yawn. “I dreamed tha’ I was a sparkly fish.”

A laugh found its way from Sinbad’s chest. “R-really?”

“Yes. Then I got eated.”

Sin sobered up. “O-oh. I’m sorry. Were you scared?”

Kaito gave him a weird look. “I eat fish.”

“But in the dream, you were the fish,” Sinbad reminded him, utterly confused.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sinbad gave up--too early in the morning to try to make sense of a tired four year old. “Let’s get you a bath and some food, okay?”

“Okay.” His feet didn’t quite reach the floor, so Sinbad helped him down from bed and to his wardrobe.

“You should pick your clothes before your bath,” he told him, pulling open the drawers of clothes that had been filled by Ja’far.

Kaito frowned in confusion at the piles. “There are more than one clothes.”

“Well… yeah.”

“Which one is mine?”

Sinbad laughed. “All of them, Kaito.”

“All of the clothes?” Kaito looked, distressed, down at his body. “B-but there is only one me!”

Another laugh. “Fair enough. But just pick one and you can wear the others different days, okay?”

“Okay, Papa.” He pulled out a tunic and began to walk away, before Sinbad quickly grabbed some new underwear and pants that he put in Kaito’s hands.

Kaito took them and paused on the way out of the room, eyes lighting up as they fell upon a little, wooden boat that sat on top of his dresser. “My ship!” He reached up his tiny hand.

Sinbad took the vessel and handed it to Kaito. “That’s a very nice ship.”

“Mama got it for me.” He beamed. “I’m the captain.”

“I bet you’re a great captain,” Sinbad told him gently prodding him towards the door. Kaito insisted on showing Sinbad what a great captain he was by playing with the ship throughout his entire bath.

Some of the kids were already done eating by the time Sinbad made it to the kitchen, and showers were in a surprisingly well-organized rotation. Aladdin was making little shimmering lights fall from his staff that Rei and Samia giggled at and tried to catch. With a flick of the staff, a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs flew into Sinbad’s hands. Though he was a bit annoyed with Aladdin (and probably always would be, considering their rocky relationship)… he had to smile. “Thank you.”

Aladdin shot a grin back. Kendria ran up with her own staff, and Aladdin tried to teach her how to make the little stars.

Seti bounded into the kitchen from the hall, hair still dripping onto his haphazard uniform. “I’m all ready! Let’s go!”

Grimacing, Sinbad swallowed his mouthful and told him, “Uh-uh. Your hair's all wet--”

A blast of warm air shot from Aladdin’s staff, stunning Seti and making his hair stand up all over. The girls laughed at their brother, and Sinbad shook his head. “Do you have a comb, Seti?”

And that’s how the CEO of the most successful company in the world found himself sitting at the table and brushing a child’s hair. Sinbad was already stressed from pulling out the snarls without hurting the boy, and then trying to make him stand still so that he could tuck in his shirt, straighten his blazer. “Okay, there we go. Now go pack your books in your bag, okay?”

“Okay, Dad!” And he was gone.

Sinbad watched him run, hoping he wouldn’t fall, and was about to stand when he noticed that Samia had crawled up into Seti’s place. She was looking at him expectantly.

With a sigh, he pulled the brush through her lilac-colored hair as well. It felt as if Zara had already brushed it, but Samia didn’t seem to get the concept, so he brushed it and made two pigtails to keep it from her face.

“Me next! Me next!” Rei insisted, lifting Samia off of the stool to take her place. Her hair was already brushed, but she expected him to… do something with it. As if he knew how to do anything but ponytails.

And then Samia started crying, making Sinbad wince and scramble to pick her up. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! No need to cry… what’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, but just clung to him and stopped, so he shrugged and let Samia hang on his robes like a little monkey while he tried to make the buns he saw in Rei’s hair yesterday. It took a good ten minutes to figure out, but she sat still through it all.

Finally, they had all eaten and cleaned up. They were wreaking chaos: Setti and Leo were fighting with wooden swords on the couch, Kaito was trying in vain to reach for another pancake (though he had inhaled two), Rei was chasing a squealing Samia around, sparks were shooting from Kendria’s staff, and Zara was… well she was reading a book, but she certainly wasn’t any help.

At a loss, Sinbad just tried to do something that would organize his thoughts. “Okay, line up! Oldest to youngest!”

To his surprise, they responded obediently (even Zara), stopping what they were doing and getting in a tidy row. Kaito shoved a rolled up pancake into his mouth.

Sinbad looked to each one of them, checking to make sure they each had their books, utensils, and paper. Samia had, at some point, gotten a little, stuffed dog that she was holding, and Kaito was proudly showing her the ship that he still held. Hopefully, those would keep the two occupied today.

“Aright!” Sinbad clapped his hands together and looked at the clock. “We should get going if we want to get you to school in time. Let’s load up!”

“I can take you today,” Aladdin offered, becoming Sinbad’s favorite person for an instant.

“Okay, form a circle! Boys, put your swords on the table; you won’t need those. Aladdin, do you know where the school is?”

“Found it this morning, yep!”

“Aladdin is going to make a transportation circle,” Sinbad explained to the kids, who were neatly arranging themselves into a circle. “Just like yesterday. We’ll go to the school and then Samia and Kaito will…” He paused, apprehensive. “...come to work with me. Sound good?”

The two youngest cheered, and Sinbad hoped desperately that he wouldn’t regret that. “Okay. Aladdin?”

He and Sinbad stepped up behind the children, and with a few muttered incantations, the floor beneath them glowed. A flash of light, a tug on the gut, and they were somewhere new.

Chapter Text

They were behind a line of trees that marked the edge of the playground, and the bright school building was being swarmed by other kids. Seti and Rei were already bouncing on their toes, and Kendria hid behind Zara. Leo’s face was pale as he watched the other kids streaming into the building.

Feeling a pang of pity, Sinbad crouched down to their level and said, “Gather round, now.” They all turned to face him, and he cleared his throat. “I know this is all very… overwhelming for you. But I know you’ll make lots of friends, and it’ll be more fun to study with other kids. Learning is extremely important; it means you’ll be able to handle the entire world better. So just do your best, say please and thank you, obey your teachers, be kind, and stick up for each other. Just think of it like… you’re all a team, okay?”

“Team ben Sinbad!” Seti cheered.

“I vote the Fantastic Five,” Zara said.

“But then we’d need a different name when Samia and Kaito came to school,” Leo pointed out.

“The Sindria Seven?” tried Kendria meekly.

Rei nodded. “Sounds fancy.”

“Or the Sindria Squad,” added Leo. “So that it includes Father and people don’t get confused about how there aren’t seven of us yet.”

“Yes, that one!” Seti agreed.

Sinbad couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, all in favor of Sindria Squad?”

There were “Yea”s all around, even from Kaito. Zara murmured it grumpily, as if she didn’t want any name that involved Sinbad, but didn’t want to rain on her siblings’ parade.

“Okay, Sindria Squad,” he said, standing up. “Be good, have fun! You’ll be sorted into classes when you walk in. You’ll be picked up after school out front, okay?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Seti saluted him, and took off running towards the other children. The rest followed close behind, Zara tugging Kendria along by the hand to get her moving.

Sinbad stared after the five as they walked up the front. “They’ll be fine,” he said more to himself. He should have planned a better before school speech.

“They grow up so fast,” said Aladdin. “Here one day, gone the next!”

“Ha ha,” grumbled Sinbad, picking up Samia again when she began to reach upwards.

“To your office, then?” Aladdin prompted with a grin.

“Yeah,” Sinbad sighed, already trying to think up what he’d say when the press found out he had seven children. Hopefully he could get through most of the day… or even a few days before someone noticed. It was likely for this purpose of avoiding press that Ja’far had sent Aladdin.

Another transportation circle, and they were at the top of the Sindria Trading Company building. Luckily, none of his advisors had been let into his office; even Ja’far was absent. He put Samia down. Kaito began to run around the room excitedly, grabbing his sister’s hand to drag her along on his ‘exporition’. Sinbad turned to the former magi. “Thank you for your help this morning, Aladdin.”

“My pleasure.” A teasing bow. “It was rather fun, actually. Your kids are little balls of sunshine.”

Sinbad gripped his desk and lowered himself into his chair. “Mmhmm.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out heavily, the night before and morning running through his mind in circles until he felt sick.

He jumped when a hand was placed on his shoulder. “You’re taking this really well, Uncle. You’re a natural! Don’t worry--plenty of us want to help you.”

“Or, ya know, laugh at me,” Sinbad said, sitting up straight and rubbing his eyes wearily.

Aladdin frowned, and made himself at home by perching himself on Sinbad’s desk. “Is that what you think this is about? Spite?”

Sinbad couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh. He was so tired. In every way. “What else would it be about? My friends with which I survived countless difficulties now avoid me in efforts not to admit that they hate me. Ja’far doesn’t, but he’s completely shut me out and is somehow even more angry with me constantly than he ever has been. Every other leader has lost whatever trust they had in me. Anything the world gives me at this point is hardly intended as a kind gesture.”

He avoided Aladdin’s sorrowful look. “That sounds very lonely. But you always have been, haven’t you? Putting the whole world on your shoulders and never letting anyone help you. Alibaba is perhaps the only one who tried to truly understand you.”

“Yeah, yeah, let your friends help you, Sinbad,” Sinbad muttered, mimicking Aladdin’s former advice. “I know. And thanks for pointing out more depressing things about my existence. Whatever—I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about this.”

“Uncle,” Aladdin said, and the imploring yet gentle tone he used made Sinbad look up. “You were willing to give your life to protect me. You almost died for me. I didn’t forget that. And maybe you went about it the wrong way, but Alibaba helped us understand that you’re still you--always trying to protect people. We don’t hate you. We’re concerned for you. Your friends are simply wondering how you got that extreme without them noticing, and how to help you.”

“I don’t need help ,” Sinbad said. “I need a keg of brandy.”

“That’s pretty much the definition of needing help.”

Sinbad ignored him. “So you’re saying they put me in charge of seven children,” he intoned slowly, “to help me.”

“You’re a smart guy!” Aladdin stood. “You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I find that focusing on the needs of others instead of my troubles tends to cheer me up and ends up showing me solutions to my own problems. Maybe give that a try with your kids.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Sinbad massaged his temples. He knew Aladdin was trying to help, and was being rather kind, even considering the circumstances. He should probably be thanking him. He tried. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” The teenager jumped over the desk and started sauntering away.

“W-wait, where are you going?” asked Sinbad, gripping his desk.

Aladdin quirked an eyebrow. “Back to Kou.”

“Oh, sure,” mumbled Sinbad bitterly. “You go flirt with her ‘fuck you and your alliance’ majesty and I'll be here. Doing paperwork. Watching toddlers.”

“Aww, are you gonna miss me?” Aladdin simpered. “And I’ll be sure to tell Kougyoku about your new nickname for her.”

“Great. Go ahead and add another reason on her novel-length list on why she hates me.”

“Now that one sounds like a you problem,” sighed Aladdin. “I’ll be seeing you soon!”

Flash! Gone. Aladdin couldn’t use surrounding rukh for his power anymore, so Sinbad honestly didn’t know how the boy’s magoi wasn’t depleted yet. Then again, not all of their fathers had run the world--probably came with some favoritism with innate magoi amounts.

A little wooden boat was sailing across the other side of his desk. Kaito peeked over the edge with gleeful eyes. “Your work is so big! Will you play with me?”

To be honest, playing with a toddler seemed like more fun than more damn paperwork, but with their new shellphone with increased reception and better maneuverability for the airships, improved for the whole world being torn apart thing, he knew there would be a hell of a stack. Surely there was an employee that would be willing to play with them?

“Uh, I wish I could, buddy, but--”

At this point, Ja’far swept in and closed the door quickly behind him. “Okay, I made sure none of the other advisors will be bothering you, and you only have three appointments today on top of the usual rounds with a short press walk and checking up on the budget that the accountants are drawing up for some new airship orders-”

He stopped up short at Sinbad’s desk, blinking down at Kaito and Samia as if he’d only just realized they were there. “Ah. You took them to work.”

“Where else could I have put them?” Sinbad said, eye twitching. “You expected me to find a nanny in one night?”

Ja’far frowned. “I don’t expect you to find a nanny. I figured you’ll be taking them to work every day.”

“What? Why did you think I’d have time to give them the attention they need?” Sinbad hissed, standing and lowering his voice so that he’d be too high for the kids to hear. “And what am I supposed to do with the kids after school? I go home from work later than they get out!”

Crossing his arms, Ja’far said tightly, “Calm down. Plenty of people will be willing to watch them while you’re in meetings, and they’re very well-behaved children. They can quietly occupy themselves until employees or you have time to play with them. As for the others…” He looked slightly sheepish, but seemed to steel himself. “Well, you remember when I asked if I could reduce some hours and hire more employees for some who wanted more time with their families?”

Sinbad’s eyes narrowed. “I recall.”

“Well, I reduced yours,” Ja’far said simply. “I already drew up your finances and you can still afford the same lifestyle with a slight pay cut. You get out of work at four thirty now.”

“ WHAT?! ”

The kids jumped and backed away at Sinbad’s tone, and he glanced at them remorsefully before whispering heatedly. “That is completely overstepping your authority!”

“You gave me permission.”

“I’d have to completely change all my scheduling and divide some responsibilities that I’m only comfortable doing myself-”

“Already done. And your employees are more than capable to handle the new work.”

“My hours are not your decision to make!”

“And taking over the lives of everyone on the planet wasn’t yours!” Ja’far shouted back.

Sinbad stepped back, stunned. “For fuck’s sake--you can’t guilt-trip me with that forever! I fixed that-”

“I can, because deep down, you know you were insane and completely violated all of your beliefs and everything we fought for! We , your friends , and hell, a few enemies, all fixed that; you would’ve been screwed without us!”

“My friends?” Sinbad laughed. “What, friends that hate me? That suddenly think it’s okay that they control every aspect of my life now?”

“Well, you clearly suck at controlling your own life at this point. A wonder you decided you could handle the universe,” Ja’far snarled. “How can you even defend yourself? Can’t you try to give a single damn about what you put everyone through?!”

Sinbad’s mind flashed to Samia, doe eyes sad as she wondered when her mother would return. A foreign, hot rage was boiling up his throat. “Get out.”

Bewildered, Ja’far stammered, “W-what?”

“ Get out! ”

Ja’far threw his clipboard holding Sinbad’s schedule down on the desk. He backed away, scowling, and then wretched open the door. “Fine. Ignore reality for another day. I wish I had that luxury.”

And the slam of the door rattled the room.

Sinbad threw himself back into his chair, groaning. Perfect. Now Ja’far hated him more, and his job, the only freaking stable thing left in his life, was also torn apart.

It was only when he heard the faint, “Papa?” that he lifted his face from his hands.

Kaito was hugging his sister, who looked like she’d been crying. Sinbad’s self loathing spiked, and he quickly went around his desk and crouched down next to his children.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” he told them, carefully reaching out to ruffle Kaito’s hair. “Friends fight sometimes. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Squeezing Samia tighter like she was a security blanket, Kaito said through his own sniffling, “D-do you want u-us to get out?”

“No!” he said, shaking his head emphatically. He kneeled beside them. “No, no, I was just angry with Ja’far. You two did nothing wrong. I only talk to adults that I’m mad at like that. Never any of you, okay?”

Slowly, the boy nodded, and then suddenly ran into Sinbad’s chest, giving him a hug. Sinbad blinked rapidly, staring down at the boy. “O-oh.”

Snapping out of his surprise, he hugged Kaito, who was soon followed by Samia. Except she didn’t let go. He picked her up after their crying had dissipated, and took her back around to his desk where he sat her on his lap. Kaito ran around after him, struggling to pull himself up on Sinbad’s other leg. Sinbad’s previous anger already fading away, he laughed and lifted his son up with one hand. “Here you go, kiddo.”

While the kids looked around the room from their new vantage point, Sinbad pulled his schedule closer. His three meetings only had a fifteen minute break in-between. The press walk and meeting with the accountants was directly after, and then sure enough, his day ended at four-thirty.

He breathed out heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. What was he going to do for dinner? It was something he usually never had to worry about, as he’d usually stay in his flat here and order dinner to his room, or go out to eat. But now he had seven children to feed, and all he really knew how to make was stew and smoked snake. He could order them all food every night, but that would get expensive eventually, even for him, and especially with his new hours. Maybe he could hire a housekeeper that could cook?

But what if the children like the housekeeper better than me? I’m already a shit father.

Sinbad frowned at the intrusive thought. What? Why do I care if they like me?

He didn’t know why he cared. But he did.

So tonight, he would order something nice for them. And then he’d have his assistant buy cookbooks and a ridiculous amount of food. Maybe they’d like helping him make food.

The thought of the kids getting smudged with flour and happily mixing a bowl made him smile.

I find that focusing on the needs of others instead of my troubles tends to cheer me up and ends up showing me solutions to my own problems.

And remembering that made him roll his eyes. Sinbad honestly hated how Aladdin was actually right about some things.

And something else that had been said occurred to him. In trying to placate his own children, he had said, Friends fight sometimes .

Any anger that was left completely calmed. Ja’far was still his friend. He knew that. Maybe… maybe he’d invite his friends for dinner.

“Alright,” Sinbad said with new energy. “I’m going to fill out this paperwork for fifteen minutes at a time, and then I’ll take breaks to play with you. After that, I’ll find someone to watch you, because I have some meetings I have to go to. After the meetings, we’ll go pick up your brothers and sisters from school. How does that sound?”

“Yay! Fivte minute!” Kaito said, and Sinbad wondered if he could even count to fifteen.

“That’s right,” said Sinbad firmly. “Can you two play by yourselves quietly until then?”

Kaito nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” And he crawled off of Sinbad’s lap to go get his boat.

Samia said, “I want to stay here.”

He should’ve known. And he smiled. “Alright, Samia. And you can go play with your brother when you want to, okay?”

She swung her tiny feet. That’s so adorable . “Okay.”

Sinbad reached around his daughter and pulled the towering stack towards himself.

“One day at a time,” he muttered to himself. “One day at a time.”

Chapter Text

Sinbad’s head was still spinning with numbers by the time he made it back to his office. He was calculating a million different possibilities of what could go wrong with the latest deals made, but each seemed manageable, and most profitable. Businessmen always did manage to prosper in chaos; as he’d spent most of his life trying to rid the world of turmoil, Sinbad wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about benefiting from it. He wouldn’t have minded if it was for the sake of protecting Sindria and his dream of peace, but now… now no one was fighting, the world was free of Solomon or David’s (or his own) control… what else was there for him to do?

The thought stopped him in his tracks, just before his door. The fear gripped him so tightly that he couldn't reach for the handle.

Anything he sacrificed had been for the destiny he saw.

And now his sight was gone.

SInbad let out a shaky exhale and ran a hand through his hair. When he’d admitted it before, he’d still found something to change, something to improve--the fabric of the world. Now there was no voice in his head, no magician, no magi to tell him what more could be done in place of his own vision.

For the first time, the rest of his life was a blank page.

For the first time, he didn’t feel…

Well, he felt silly thinking of the word “special,” but that did seem to be the closest fit.

Special. He wasn’t…

But he shook his head. No. No time to think about that now. He had kids to pick up from school in a short while.

When he entered, there was giggle and a small voice humming. Kaito and Samia were sitting on the floor with Pipirika, drawing on scrap paper with colored pens. Pipirika was laughing, complimenting Samia on her squiggly… flower, was it? And Kaito was enthusiastically coloring his picture of a ship blue while humming a quick little tune with the strokes of his hand. They instantly looked to him as the door opened, and Kaito jumped up.

The boy barreled over to him, gripped the bottom of his robes and held up his paper. “I made you a ship!”

A bit of his anxiety fell away as he took the picture. “You did this all by yourself? Wow! It’s a lovely ship, Kaito. Thank you.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, and said, “I need to finish up for about half an hour, and then we’ll head home and pick up your siblings.”

Kaito nodded as Pipirika gave a short wave and departed from the room. Samia moved wordlessly to sit by his feet and continued her drawing. Sinbad had only just rounded his desk when his phone rang.

The caller ID was labeled Rurumu Academy . He frowned, and put the phone to his ear. “President Sinbad of the Sindria Trading Company. What can I do for you?”

The voice was strained. “ U-uh, S-Sir, there’s been an issue with your children today, and it’s policy to call the parent and ask them to attend a meeting as soon as possible .”

Sinbad stood up straight. “Issue? Are they okay? Which ones?”

“ Um, all of them, Sir. And they’re essentially fine; I’m afraid they started a fight in the hallway .”

He gaped at the phone, and then put it back to his ear. “Wh-what? You’ve gotta be joking.”

“ I-I’m afraid not, Sir. They’re in the office now, awaiting your and the other parents’ arrival for the disciplinary meeting. Will you be able to attend?”

“I, uh…” Sinbad sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Yes, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“ Thank you for your time, Sir. ”

“No trouble. Thank you for letting me know.” He hung up, and dropped into his seat with a groan.  So much for getting the rest of the airship forms read. First day with his new hours and he’s already leaving half an hour early.

Steeling himself, he dialed his phone and gripped his desk. Ja’far picked up right away, with a snappy, “ What .”

“I have to leave early,” Sinbad said shortly, turning his chair to face the window. “The school office called me in for a meeting. The kids got in trouble.”

“ Already ?”

“Already. I’ll take the forms home and work on them tonight.”

“ Fine .”

Sinbad hesitated. “...Yamuraiha is in town today, right?”

“ Yes .”

Before he could think about it too much, Sinbad said firmly, “I’d like to have you and her over for dinner.”

Surprise was evident in Ja’far’s voice. “. ..oh. Why? Is there some new magic device we need to discuss? ”

“No. Just… because.”

“ Uh… okay. I’ll call her. What time? ”

“I’ll play it safe and say seven. We’re having...something.”

A weighty pause. “ ...Yeah. Alright .”

“Yeah. See you. And… I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

He could almost hear Ja’far’s eyes bugging out over the phone. “ Really?! I-I mean, uh, it’s okay. ”

“It’s not okay,” sighed Sinbad, leaning far back in his chair.

Ja’far was quiet for a moment, and then replied, “ No, I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best now to fix things, and I haven’t made it any easier for you. I should have talked to you about the changes, first. ”

“That’s not your job. And I know I didn’t do the same for you when I was making those… decisions.”

“ I’m not helping by repeating your actions against you, ” Ja’far admitted. “ I guess I’m still just… pissed off .”

“I know.” Sinbad turned back around, closing his eyes. “See you later.”

Sinbad dropped his face into his hands and let out a strangled groan. How was he, the builder of the peaceful world, supposed to keep his good reputation with the headmistress of the school he founded when his own children started brawls on their first day of class?

Gathering his will, he pushed himself out of the chair and grabbed his jacket. “Samia, Kaito, we’re going to leave a bit early today, alright? I have to meet with some adults at the school to talk about your siblings today.”

The kids agreed quite readily, but Sinbad was now more concerned about how to get them out of the building unseen. He found Pipirika’s number on his phone. “Hey, I know you’re busy, but I need you to escort the children to my car. I’ll follow shortly.”

“ Uh… okay, sir .”

“...I’m not in the mood for dealing with the press today.”

“ Ah. Understood. But um, you didn’t drive in today, sir. ”

“Oh. Right. An extra company car, then.”

“ Right away, sir. ”

Sinbad followed soon after his confused children; he was glad they weren’t old enough so that they wouldn’t think he was embarrassed about them. Zara, on the other hand…

He groaned, pushing to his feet. Pipirika led the kids out soon after, and he waited five minutes to walk down and get in the car in front of them. “Ready for an adventure?”

The young lady at the school’s front desk squeaked and dropped all of her papers when she saw him. “O-oh! M-Mister Sinbad! U-uh, r-right this way… I-I can watch the y-younger ones while you’re in the m-meeting. I-I have toys back here for when p-parents need to do that.”

“Thank you very much, Miss,” Sinbad told her, trying not to smirk. He was aware of the effect he had on women, but with everything going on, he hadn’t exactly gotten an ego boost from it in a while. After a day like this, he could use a little blushing and longing gazes in his direction to cheer him up.

The headmistress’ office was at the end of the reception area. Grimacing, Sinbad slowly pushed open the door. The kids looked up at him all at once, squeezed in the room on variously shaped chairs, as if they had to gather some from other places just to fit the students all in. A few other children were scattered among them, but Sinbad was focused only on the bruise forming on Seti’s eye, the cut above Zara’s brow, and the blood trickling from Leo’s knuckles.

Sinbad stormed in and knelt beside them. “Are you okay? What happened?” He brushed Zara’s hair away from the sticky blood, examined Leo’s knuckles. Checked over Rei and Kendria; they seemed unscathed. He took Seti’s chin in his hand gently and turned his face. “Who did this to you? And where is a cold pack for his face?”

“On its way,” he headmistress said shortly. She was an lady in her fifties, graying hair back in a tight bun. “If you could have a seat, Mister Sinbad, we’ll start the meeting and discuss the situation.”

With a last glance over the children and a reassuring smile in their direction, he sat and folded his hands. Three other parents were here, sternly sitting by their jittery kids or gaping at Sinbad. “Now, I was called about some kind of scuffle?”

“All of your children,” the headmistress began, “were involved in a physical fight in the atrium today.”

“He started it!” Zara seethed, pointing at a mousey-faced, brown haired boy to her right.

“Hush, Zara,” Sinbad told her in the most soothing tone he could muster for the situation. He leaned back in his seat. “We each need to wait our turn to speak.”

She gritted her teeth, and seemed to be about to retort, but Leo kicked her in the shin. Bless that kid.

The headmistress continued, “From what I’ve gathered, there was an argument that evolved into a fight. Eventually, the ben Sinbad children ganged up on these other boys-”

“There were ten of ‘em against us five!” Seti protested this time. “You only caught three of ‘em!”

“Seti.” Sinbad gestured for him to be quiet with a finger. “Wait your turn. I’m sure the headmistress will take what you say into account fairly.” He offered the lady a smile. “So what was this argument allegedly about?”

“I-It’s quite insignificant,” the headmistress said, trying and failing to keep an entirely stern demeanor. The eternal magic of a smile. “We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting.”

“Well, I’m sure the children were aware of that,” Sinbad began, folding his hands. “And they still chose to fight. Surely zero tolerance doesn't quite solve underlying problems that are the source of the rule breaking?”

The headmistress shifted and cleared her throat, flustered. “Th-that may be, but indulging childish arguments--we can hardly cater to a child’s petty issues-”

“On the contrary, headmistress,” Sinbad said, smiling more widely while his tone took a sharper edge, “I care very much about addressing the children's’ issues, and hardly find them petty.”

In his peripheral vision, he could see the kids begin to smile. But what really made his chest swell was the flicker of approval in Zara’s widened eyes.

At this point, the headmistress finally seemed to remember that Sinbad was the main funding for her school.

“O-of course, sir. Em, would one of you children raise your hand to calmly explain the argument? Each side will have the chance to speak.”

Every student’s hand shot up, except Kendria, who was anxiously kicking her feet while staring at the ground. The headmistress chose Leo to speak, probably having picked up that he was the levelheaded one of the group.

Leo spoke as calmly as she’d asked, “That boy was making fun of Kendria’s trouble with the language and hat and staff and Torran markings.” He pointed at the boy that Zara had indicated. “His friends joined in--nine of them--and he grabbed her staff away. Zara told him to give it back and leave her alone, and when he wouldn’t, Seti hit him. When they started hitting Seti, Zara and I joined in to help him and Rei was trying to get everyone to stop. Kendria got her staff back and did a spell to separate all of us. Six of his friends ran away before the teachers came. And that’s what happened.”

Sinbad’s jaw clenched; he’d told Kendria this morning that everything would be fine. The fact that this bully had made him a liar caused his hands close tightly around his armrests.

The headmistress raised her eyebrows at the accused brown-haired boy. “Is this true, Jeremiah?”

“No,” he muttered, not looking at her. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’--these kids are all freaks and started fighting us.”

From the looks he was getting, Sinbad could tell that no one was convinced.

“Jeremiah!” the boy’s mother said harshly. “You don’t call other children names! Apologize.”

At his mother’s command, the boy murmured an apology. Sinbad turned to the headmistress. “I’m sure my children are tough enough to handle juvenile insults without devolving into violence, but I’d prefer them to have a more stress-free learning environment. And furthermore, taking the staff of a magician is rather dangerous for anyone involved; this boy is lucky it didn’t take off someone’s limb on accident.” His eyes swept over the children. “Perhaps they were concerned about that situation, wanted to get the staff back as quickly as possible, and didn’t think to get a teacher instead.”

Spreading his hands open in compromise, he said, “I understand that it’s school policy to give appropriate punishment. Might I suggest this as a first strike, and you trust me to discipline them accordingly on my own? I will ensure that they will learn proper restraint in the future. If this happens again, you have my full permission to use your own disciplinary procedures. My children have just experienced a massive change in their life in one week and have yet to understand the culture of their new environment. I’d be most appreciative of your leniency until I’ve had further chance to explain this to them.”

The headmistress seemed quite lost for words for a minute. “I… yes, the school would be open to that. Please see that your children understand how to handle these issues in the future, and next time, you will all have school-delivered consequences. The ben Sinbad children may leave, unless any parents have further objections or questions about the situation?”

The parents were quiet, until one blurted, “Chairman Sinbad has children?! ”

Me too, man. Me too , he thought. Sinbad stood, gestured vaguely to the kids, and gave a helpless shrug. “Evidently. Come along, Sindria Squad.”

The kids trailed after Sinbad like a line of ducklings, Kaito and Samia catching up to their siblings eagerly. He began to lead them towards the back parking lot, walking very stiffly. Sensing the tension, the children kept quiet until they reached the car, where Sinbad helped them inside and then got into the driver’s seat. He breathed out, gripped the steering wheel.

“You know better than to get into fights,” Sinbad finally said, staring at the children in the mirror. “My children cannot be kicking around other kids at school.”

“Oh why, because we’ll ruin your image? ” Zara spat, crossing her arms and flipping back her bangs. “Lighten up, old man--we didn’t even get punished.”

“The only reason you didn’t get punished is because I did some sweet talkin’ to get you out of it,” Sinbad said through gritted teeth. “It’s not about my image. It’s about responsibility. You’re underage, so I’m still responsible for you. I trusted you all to behave well. And any of you who thought fighting would fix this rather than getting a teacher or walking away from silly verbal insults has disappointed me.”

Leo and Seti looked down into their laps, but Zara barely flinched. She bit back, “Responsible for us?! You’ve only had us for a day! Why should we care if you’re disappointed? How should we know what high class expectations you have for us in your fancy rich people world? As if you’d know anything about what it’s been like for us, what it’s like to suffer and not have whatever we want whenever we want--sometimes you have to fight for that! And you-”
“That’s enough,” Sinbad said quietly, but firmly. “Perhaps I don’t know much about any of you, but that comment proves that you also know nothing about me. So let’s just make it clear: I expect maturity from you, respect and civility, whether or not someone is being respectful to you. You use physical violence only when someone is being violent with you or your friends. Taking her staff didn’t count; that’s when you get a teacher. I’m disappointed that you fought-”

“You just-!”

“ However , I am proud that you defended your sister,” Sinbad finished. “Kendria, good job separating them, and good job to Rei for trying to help. Leo, Seti, and Zara, I’m glad you’re okay, and I’ll get you some ice when we get home. Kaito and Samia, thank you for being so patient and good at work today. Now we’re going home, where you’ll do your homework, show me when you’ve finished, and then you may play in the main room or the backyard in view of the kitchen windows. Are we all clear?”

There were murmurs of approval all around, mixed with a few “Yes sir!’s” here and there.

The kids kept themselves occupied on the way back, talking quietly (for the most part) amongst themselves. And Sinbad… he was barely keeping his shit together, so many things on his mind that he thought it might burst.

It was less of a problem trying to keep your cool in a business situation, where his superiority was mostly unquestioned. But these kids had barely any reason to grant him see him as an authority figure. He had to gain their respect. Or maybe… just Zara’s. He could easily gain the respect of kings and queens with his power in the past (With the exception of being thrown in a chasm of snakes), but Zara wasn’t likely to give a crap about whether or not he could blow a hole in a mountain. She cared about if he was… well, he didn’t even know.

Well, at least he knew the right questions: What did they need from him and how could he give it to them?

That was a bit more like a trading company situation. He’d observed what a trading partner needed and found out how to give it to them for what he needed in return… though Sinbad supposed he couldn’t exactly expect to get anything in return from children. All the same, just being generally observant should solve his problems. He was good at figuring out what people needed.

He nodded to himself reassuringly, and focused on what he needed to do next. Paperwork. Check homework. Make sure kids don’t die. Order food. Make sure kids don’t die. Try to make sure dinner isn’t awkward. Make sure kids don’t die. Put kids to bed. Try to actually sleep. Without alcohol.

...yikes.