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Chapter Text

Niijima Jiro took his eyes off the road for a second to sneak a look at his wife, an unreadable expression drawn across her features. "Izumi-chan, are you sure about this?"

Izumi tilted her head slightly, turning towards her husband with a sad smile. "We already promised the girls a baby brother. Makoto-chan would be heartbroken."

Jiro sighed through his nose, clicking on his turn signal. Izumi and he had been expecting a baby boy this month, but Izumi had unfortunately miscarried the child at seven months. Sae, seventeen and in her final year of high school, knew about the miscarriage and had mourned her baby brother by herself. Makoto, six years old with bright, ruby eyes full of innocence... Izumi didn't have the heart to break the news to her youngest daughter.

"Well, it's a good thing we were expecting an addition to our family anyways." Jiro let a smile tug at his lips, burgundy eyes crinkling slightly. Truthfully, he had always wanted a son. He loved his girls, but he always dreamed of teaching a son how to play chess or to play pretend as a police officer with. Sae had already passed her bar exam and was on her way to becoming a prosecutor, but Jiro couldn't help but wish for a son. "It was foolish of me to ask. Once your heart is set on something, you won't give up."

Izumi smiled, a knowing look in her crimson eyes. "That's why you married me, right?" There was a playful lilt to her voice. "'I like a girl who knows what she wants'... I'll never forget you saying that on our first date."

Her husband laughed, a light blush blooming on his face in embarrassment. "Let's not talk about that now, we're here." Surely enough, he shifted the car into park and began unbuckling his seat belt. "Do you need help...?"

She chuckled, waving a hand in his direction. "I may have just had a miscarriage but I'm no damsel in distress, Jiji."

Jiro averted his eyes, distracting himself with opening the driver's side door. "I thought you had forgotten about that nickname..." Izumi grinned in reply with a devilish glint in her eyes, getting out of the car and meeting her husband on the sidewalk.

Standing before them was Tokyo's Orphanage. It was larger than the residential homes around it, but it didn't look large enough to house many children. Jiro bit his tongue, recalling the awful stories he had heard about Tokyo's foster system and local orphanages. Society was failing its own children. By bringing one boy here out of the system and into their home... it was the least they could do, really.

Nevertheless, he turned towards his wife and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Let's go find our son."

They entered the orphanage, Jiro holding the wooden door open for Izumi. She nodded in a quick show of gratitude before holding the door open for him in turn. He smiled back at her, stepping into the house. The foyer was relatively small and there was a small desk in front of them. On top of it was some papers and in the corner was a small, silver bell. Walking up to the desk, the wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Jiro rang the bell, wincing slightly at how its shrill sound instantly filled the air.

A woman who looked to be in her forties strode into the foyer, long black hair pulled over her shoulder in a loose braid. "Good afternoon. Are you looking to adopt?"

Jiro blinked, giving a small nod. "Yes, my wife and I were looking for a young boy, preferably six years old or younger."

Izumi frowned slightly. "I recently had a miscarriage and my daughters were expecting a younger brother. We wanted to adopt a boy who was younger than our youngest daughter."

The woman raised her eyebrows, her mouth forming a small 'o'. "I'm sorry to hear about your miscarriage. I'm certain you'll find a nice young man among our bunch."

"Pardon me but," Jiro rubbed the back of his head in a small show of nervousness. "I didn't catch your name?" He bowed slightly, "I'm Niijima Jiro and this is my wife, Izumi."

"Ah, my apologies." The woman gave a small smile and a bow of her own, "Seicho Yumikiko. I run the orphanage." She made her way to the other side of the desk, shifting through the papers on top of it. Finding a piece of scratch paper, she skimmed through the pages and wrote something down on the scrap. After about a minute, she made her way back over to the Niijima's. "I compiled a list of our boys six years old and younger. If you would please follow me..."

Seicho strode into an adjacent room that consisted of a few chairs. An interview room, perhaps? After sitting the Niijima couple down, Seicho requested IDs and other information as an informal background check. "A police officer and a free-lance novelist, hm?" The woman hummed, handing the documents back. "This will be fine for now. If you decide to adopt, I'll perform a more extensive background check. I'm sure you are wonderful people, but rules are rules." She gave a small shrug before exiting the room, presumably to find the boys she would have interviewed.

Izumi glanced over to her husband. "I'm feeling a little nervous about this."

"Hm?" Jiro met her gaze, eyes softening. "We're already parents. We've been parents for seventeen years now."

The brunette tilted her head slightly, closing her eyes with a teasing smile. "This is our first time adopting, Jiji. I've never been interviewed to see if I was a suitable mother."

Jiro chuckled sheepishly. Despite being a police officer, common sense certainly loved to evade him. "I... can see why you're feeling nervous then." He was rewarded with his wife's hum. He had almost begun to speak again when Seicho returned with a young boy who hardly came up to her thigh.

"Sorry for the wait," she smiled pleasantly, putting a soft hand on the boy's shoulder. "This is Kai. Say hello, Kai-chan."

The boy met the gazes of the Niijima's for all of a split second before returning his gaze to the floor. "H-hi."

And seven other boys came and went in similar ways. Each boy was relatively nice, but none of them really... fit. There hadn't been a single boy that screamed I'm your new son! I'll fit right in with the Niijima's and be a good baby brother to Makoto-chan! Jiro and Izumi had been ready to give up and go home, return empty-handed and break Makoto's heart. But out of the corner of her eye, Izumi noticed a small boy sitting in the other room. He couldn't have been more than six, so...

"Excuse me, Seicho-san," she began, pointing towards the boy in the other room. "What about that boy over there?"

Seicho followed Izumi's finger and, upon laying eyes on the boy, her shoulders rose in surprise. She turned back to the Niijima's, an unreadable expression on her face. "I don't think he would fit your family. He is six years old and has already been bounced between many other foster families-"

Jiro leaned forward in his chair, as if he was extending his presence in the room. "Bring him over here. I want to meet him."

The woman seemed to visibly tense up, biting her lip and drawing her eyebrows together. Her eyes seemed to say, Don't say I didn't warn you. She got up from her seat and took hesitant steps into the other room, approaching the boy. The boy was crouched against the wall, knees pulled tightly to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. His brown hair shrouded his face, hiding whatever emotions he was showing.

Despite not being able to decipher what Seicho was saying, the Niijima's could tell the woman was goading the child into meeting them. He seemed somewhat uncooperative, stubbornly staying in his compact position and never meeting her eyes. Jiro couldn't help but think of the gruesome case he investigated about two years ago, a young boy clinging to his mother's corpse after she had committed suicide in their bathtub. The boy had stayed his ground, grabbing at his mother's arm and only being torn away once they needed to remove the body from the house. Distantly, he wondered what ever happened to that boy.

He was pulled from his musings when he heard footsteps. Seicho led the child back towards the interviewing room. The boy kept his head down, long brown hair still covering his face. He seemed to mutter something to himself but followed the woman nonetheless. Seicho stood next to the boy, gesturing to the chair that all of the other boys had sat in while jittering with the excitement of possibly being adopted. Being the absolute antithesis of the other children, the boy all but fell into his seat, obviously unhappy to be there.

"Go on," Seicho said in a kind voice, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, "introduce yourself."

The boy pulled away from her touch as if he had been burned. "Don't touch me." He shuddered. "Please."

Jiro turned towards Izumi with a cautious glance. He didn't want to think that the boy had been hidden away for a reason, but usually children were excited to be considered for adoption, right? The boy seemed to be positively miserable at the prospect. But they needed to give him a chance. This was their last option before they came home and upset their youngest daughter.

Izumi nodded, understanding her husband with a shared look. "Well, we're the Niijima's." The boy tilted his head slightly, but his eyes were still hidden. Regardless, it was a start. "My name is Izumi and I'm a novelist."

"A... novelist?" The boy seemed to perk up, mouth pulled into the illusion of awe. His voice was quiet, she noticed. Out of fear? Maybe he was just shy.

She smiled past her spiraling thoughts. "Yep. I write books for a living." Izumi could have sworn the boy's lips twitched into a small smile before turning back into a frown.

"I'm the cool one," her husband interrupted, a grin on his face. Izumi rolled her crimson eyes, used to her husband being proud enough to brag about his position. "I'm a police officer."

The boy finally picked his head up, brown bangs shifting to reveal garnet eyes. "A police officer?"

Jiro kept the smile on his face, retrieving his badge from his pocket and brandishing it to the child. "I risk my life every day to keep the good people of Tokyo safe. I'm very happy to be doing what I'm doing."

"-If you couldn't tell from him interrupting my "boring" job of being a novelist," Izumi slipped in, looking at the boy. He was very handsome and his eyes reminded her of her own.

"So you're like a superhero? Just like the ones in Featherman?" Where the boy's eyes had once been dull, light seemed to spark against the garnet.

Jiro turned towards his wife, a sheepish smile on his face. "Featherman? Isn't that the show Makoto was watching the other day?"

Frankly, Izumi couldn't tell the difference between the shows Makoto wanted to watch. The young girl liked action movies, the ones with an excessive amount of explosions, so maybe some superhero show wasn't too far off. "I think so."

The boy blinked up at them. "Who's Makoto?"

Jiro, always ready to brag about his daughters, leaned forward in his seat. "Makoto is our youngest daughter and she's six. We also have another daughter, Sae, and she's seventeen."

"You already have two children," the boy averted his eyes, catching his gaze on his fidgeting hands. "Why are you looking to adopt?"

Izumi, unsure if she truly wanted to bring up the miscarriage to a six year old, twisted her face into a slight frown. "Makoto wanted a baby brother and we... lost our son."

The boy's hands froze, eyes snapping wide open. "So I'd just be a replacement, huh." The warmth had left his voice. Had it ever been there in the first place?

"It isn't like that," Jiro asserted immediately, taking his wife's hand in his own. "We want a son and giving a child in the system a loving home seems like the best of both worlds."

Wide, garnet eyes looked up at him from under brown bangs. An instant later, he looked back down at his lap again, hands clenching into fists. "So many other families said that."

"We can't say that you would be the perfect fit because we hardly know you, but please give us the chance to." Izumi squeezed her husband's hand, a small smile on her face as she faced the boy. Her crimson eyes shone brightly. "Would that be okay?"

The boy pulled into himself, shoulders slumping forward. He lowered his head. "I don't understand," he muttered to himself, "Whenever I look at you, I want to cry."

Izumi pulled away, opening her mouth to speak before closing it. What was she to say about that? Did... did she remind this boy of someone?

Jiro furrowed his eyebrows, glancing towards his wife before turning back to the boy. He steeled himself and said, "We want to give you a home. We would be happy to have you in our family. Would you give us a chance? If you're truly unhappy, we can bring you back here or find you a new family. But please, let us try?"

The boy crumpled in on himself even more, his shoulders shaking. His hands gripped his shorts tightly, enough to make his knuckles flare white. Seicho seemed like she was about to intervene but the boy began to mumble under his breath.

"Please," he sounded like he was on the verge of tears, "just let me die here. No one wants me. M-Mother killed herself because I'm a cursed child."

Seicho stood suddenly, but before any words could leave her mouth, Jiro spoke up. "We would like to adopt him."

No hesitation, all authority. It wasn't up for debate.

The boy's head shot up, staring at the Niijima's with surprise written all over his face. Wide garnet eyes blinked at them innocently. They still wanted him? After he had admitted his curse to them? ... Did he not have to pretend in order for people to want him?

A small voice in the back of his head pushed forward. You still haven't introduced yourself, you know.

"M-my name is Goro," he said finally, bowing his head slightly to hide the prickling sensation in his eyes, "I look forward to being your son."

Seicho watched the display with an overwhelming feeling of hesitation. Goro usually lasted a few months with a family before he was inevitably brought back. She hated to think the families she entrusted him to were awful, and he had always been the common link... but maybe this time would be different. She wanted him to find a family that loved him.

Retrieving the necessary paperwork, she allowed herself to believe the Niijima's would be the ones to fulfill the wish.

It didn't take long to leave, seeing as Goro didn't have any belongings besides the clothes he was wearing. Izumi had frowned at her husband, sharing a look that seemed to say, we need to get Goro new clothes. Jiro nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, no thanks," Goro mumbled under his breath, approaching the Niijima's. They hadn't said anything and it didn't seem to be directed at them either. Maybe the boy had an imaginary friend? Or maybe he just thought out loud sometimes. He glanced up at them, garnet eyes slightly narrowed. "I'm ready to go."

Izumi smiled down at him, "Okay." She waved to Seicho, who was standing behind the desk and organizing paperwork. "Thank you so much, Seicho-san."

The women shared pleasantries and Goro fidgeted awkwardly. Now that he was adopted and so close to leaving the orphanage, he was antsy to get out of the stifling air. He was still unsure about the Niijima's - they seemed like nice people, but so many of the other families that adopted him acted nice during the interview before showing their true colors behind closed doors. He had tried to look disinterested during his meeting with them so they would cast him back into the shadows. He didn't deserve a nice, loving family. He was a cursed child.

Keep your head up, Goro-chan, the same voice from earlier whispered.

Another presence seemed to push forward as well. I have a good feeling about this family. And if they end up like the others, Robin and I will protect you.

Goro let a smile pull at his lips. Right. Loki and Robin Hood would protect him. They always had.

Jiro crouched down in front of his new son, burgundy eyes soft and reassuring. "Ready, big guy?"

Goro was caught off guard by the nickname, nodding after his stupor. "Yeah. I'm ready."

The three exited the orphanage, the heavy wooden door shutting behind them with a resolute bam. Goro looked around him, garnet eyes roving over the most familiar street in his memory. He had lived at the orphanage the most in the last two years. He never lasted too long at his foster homes. It wouldn't be long before he ended up back here, thown away again once he had outlived his usefulness.

Loki nudged him forward. They're waiting for you and you're standing there like a deer caught in the headlights.

Have we ever seen a deer before? Robin asked. Loki grumbled in reply, and Goro took tentative steps to meet with the Niijima's.

He followed them willingly and was surprised at how distrust had seeped out of him, leaving behind blind obedience. He would usually be wary of being led into a trap, but for some reason, this couple... genuinely didn't seem like they were going to hurt him. They made it to the car with little fanfare, Jiro opening the backdoor for him.

"I wanted a cooler-looking car but my wife argued that the girls needed to fit in the car comfortably," he whispered to Goro, as if telling him a secret. "A sports car wasn't worth sleeping in the dog house."

Why would he be sleeping in a dog house? Robin inquired innocently. He was genuinely confused.

Loki sighed. It's a saying.

Once Goro was sitting in the back seat and reaching for the seat belt, he noticed that Jiro had closed the door and made his way back to the driver's seat. Had he silently blinked back at him for that long? Robin and Loki made it difficult to hold up conversations sometimes.

"Goro, are you hungry?" Izumi asked from the passenger's side, crimson eyes shining kindly at him. "Is there anything you want in particular? Or maybe we can go clothes shopping and then get food after-"

"You don't have to spend money on me!" He interrupted. Foster parents spending money on him was just a ploy to win his trust before they turned around and hurt him. As soon as he let his guard down, he would be going to bed hungry and covered in bruises. He could survive with this one shirt, the one where threads were tapering off at the seams. His shorts were not nearly long enough to protect him in the November air, but he could suck it up. His socks had holes in them and his shoes were a size or two too small, but he could survive! As soon as he asked for something, they would hate him...!

Jiro looked at him through the reflection in the rear view mirror, a stubbornness in his eyes. "Absolutely not. We're getting you new clothes. And Goro, please let us do things for you. No one should have to live like that."

Goro sat in shocked silence, mouth agape. This couldn't be real. This all had to be a trick! A trick to win his trust before they took everything he loved away. Adults were never nice. Adults used him and threw him away when he wasn't useful anymore. It wouldn't be long before they sent him back. He didn't deserve their love. He was a cursed child. He was-

Loki pushed forward. Goro-chan, you're crying.

Truthfully, Goro hadn't even noticed the tears streaking his face. His vision was bleary, colors mixing together. Robin pushed forward as well, wiping away Goro's tears for him. Despite it all, Goro couldn't help but feel scared. These... were happy tears. He was so used to abusive households. He was used to going to bed hungry, feeling bruises form on his skin. He had no idea what it was like to live with adults who... who... cared for him. It was foreign, it was new, it was scary. At least he knew what to expect when it came to the other families. This? This was completely new.

"We're here," Jiro broke the silence, putting the car into park. Goro hadn't even realized they stopped moving.

The car door next to him clicked and opened in an arc, revealing Izumi. She looked at him with kind eyes. They were a brilliant shade of red, just like his mother's. "Goro honey, do you want to come look at new clothes with us?"

We're already at the store, Loki remarked, certainly rolling his eyes, it's not like we can say no.

It'll be fine. And besides, new clothes will be nice. Robin, ever the optimist, encouraged Goro to go.

Goro gave a hesitant smile. "Okay." He unbuckled his seat belt and hopped out of the car, Izumi closing the door once he was out.

She offered her hand to him. If he was two years younger, he would have taken it without a second thought. Now? That would be too much. She pulled her hand away, giving him some space, but stayed close enough to reach for him if she needed to. Loki smiled, Huh. Usually they'd smack us for not taking their hand.

Jiro came around to the other side of the car, smiling down at Goro. "Ready, big guy?"

For the first time in a long time, he, Loki, and Robin smiled in unison. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Chapter Text

Much to his dismay, shopping trips were... pleasant. He was hesitant to call them enjoyable - not when the fear of this whole new world falling apart around him was a very real thing that could happen. Life falling apart like some child's building block tower (another child's, never his) was fathomable. He was used to destruction. It was familiar.

Goro-chan.

Goro was waiting for his latest parents to sneer in his face for falling for their facade. He expected to be led into some backroom and yelled at for not being good enough. His thoughts trailed away from him, mentally planning how to hide the discoloration bruises always left, what lies to tell the neighbors about him always wearing bandages on his arms and legs. Maybe if his new parents would lock him in their basement and never let him see the light of day again, he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his ugliness.

Goro-chan, please-

It was only a matter of time, surely. It always was. When his body ran out of untouched skin, when scars began to criss-cross one another like a street intersection. He was a ruined doll. They wouldn't need him anymore, and he would be right back in the orphanage. There had been no point in leaving. He should just be left there to die, just like he had asked the Niijima's-

Pain exploded on his cheek. His face was smacked to the side, cheekbones reverberating against the shock. Someone hit him. He knew it, it was only a matter of time before his latest parents showed their true colors...!

Goro's eyes moved down to his own hand. He had smacked himself.

In the silence of the public bathroom he had all but thrown himself into to escape his current reality, he couldn't tear his eyes away from his hand. He... did it again, didn't he.

A sigh. You weren't answering us.

Goro opened his mouth to speak, wincing when his jaw protested. A dull ache echoed in his bones and he resolved to keeping his mouth shut. His emotions were a strong enough conveyor in the absence of speech.

Loki moved his arm for him, massaging his face. Sorry about that. Your thoughts were spiraling and we couldn't get through to you.

If he wasn't distrustful about a public bathroom's sanitation, he would have let himself slide down to the floor. His heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest, too frantic to be considered normal. He was having a hard time allowing himself to be at ease during this trip. Everything was new, it was all too much and he needed some space. With his last rational thought, he had asked for a bathroom. As soon as he had slammed the door behind him, his world had begun to spin.

Robin took his hand and placed it over his chest. Deep breaths, now. You won't be able to focus if you're hyperventilating.

It was difficult at first, but with Robin's encouragement, Goro was able to regulate his breathing. He detested how easily panic had settled into his veins. Hated that fear ran even deeper under his skin. It was second nature to fear the unknown.

Parents that might actually care for him... was certainly the unknown.

You've been in here for a while, Robin spoke softly, as if anything above a murmur would send him back into another panic. Let's go meet up with them, okay?

Shakily, he nodded his head. He couldn't stake out here forever. The Niijima's had probably been standing outside of the bathroom this entire time. Mustering up whatever small smidgen of courage he had, he opened the door and walked out with tentative steps.

Jiro looked down at him with concern in his burgundy eyes. "Everything okay?"

Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat, attempting a smile. "Yep! Sorry about that!"

Loki cringed slightly. Maybe that was a little too forced.

Despite his obvious feigned cheeriness, Jiro offered him a smile in return. Goro could hardly feel the lingering pain in his jaw with how warm his chest felt. His smile was starting to become more genuine.

"Izumi went on ahead to scout out the place," the man explained, using his hand to vaguely motion towards another part of the store, "I guess it's up to me to find you clothes, hm?"

Goro, still feeling warm down to his core, blinked expectantly up at the police officer. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Jiro chuckled, face brightening. "I like you so much already. Now I know why I always wanted a son."

Goro couldn't breathe. His body seemed to freeze up, leaving him to stare blankly at the man in front of him. His heart must have skipped a beat - no, scratch that. His heart must have stopped pumping blood altogether! He didn't even feel real at the moment.

"Oh," Jiro seemed to mumble to himself, crouching down to meet Goro's eyes, "I hope I didn't scare you or anything by saying that." His hand hovered over the boy's shoulder, remembering how adverse he was to Seicho's touch back in the orphanage. "It's true though. I'm looking forward to being your dad, Goro."

You're going to catch flies, Loki rolled his eyes. Robin, do something so we don't make a complete fool of ourselves.

Robin assumed control, snapping his mouth shut and nodding. "I-I'm looking forward to that, too." He scuffed his too-tight shoes against the patterned flooring tiles, feigning nervousness and allowing a break in their conversation. "It'll be nice having clothes that fit me."

Jiro frowned instantly and Robin was certain he screwed up until the man spoke with unwavering conviction. "I can't believe they couldn't even give you clothes your size. Just know that's never going to happen again."

Robin allowed a genuine smile to tug at his lips. He was liking his new father already. "Thank you again."

The man - his father - grinned back, lightly ruffling Robin's hair. "Now let's go pick out some cool threads for the coolest kid on this side of Tokyo."

Robin couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. This was going to be a fun experience. He followed Jiro as the man led the way, and Robin allowed his thoughts to drift.

Goro, he began in his quiet, polite tone, are you ready to come back?

Yeah. I was just caught off guard before.

In an instant, Goro regained feeling in his body. He nearly tripped, coming back to himself mid-step, but Jiro didn't notice. He sent his thanks to Robin before refocusing on the real world. Up ahead was a clothing display, different colored shirts hanging from a rack. Those were nothing like he had back with the other foster families.

Jiro's laugh pulled him out of his trance. "You practically have stars in your eyes, kid."

Goro blinked up at the man in surprise. Was it really that obvious?

"Yes, but it's kind of cute," Jiro replied and Goro realized he had said that out loud ahhh- "Feel free to pick out whatever you want. Anything your little heart desires, okay buddy?"

The boy nodded fervently, all but scurrying over to the display. Don't trip over yourself in your haste, Loki chided playfully, equally as excited about new clothes. Oh, I really like that black and white one right there.

Goro pulled it free from the hook, examining the shirt. It was okay in his eyes, but if Loki liked it, he would get it for sure. His garnet eyes scanned over the large array of material, gently pushing through each individual shirt to get a better look. Maybe Robin would see something he liked as well? It was only fair if they each got clothes they liked.

His hand hovered on a white shirt with red, blue, and gold accents on it. It almost looked like a superhero's outfit. Without a thought, he added it to his pile. Good, Robin smiled, I was about to suggest that one, but I guess you know me pretty well?

Goro hardly suppressed a snort. He would hope he knew another aspect of himself pretty well. He continued to search through the display, pulling out a dark green long-sleeved shirt, a blue t-shirt with some kind of graphic design on it, and a black pullover sweater. His eyes seemed to stall on a red fabric, his hand reaching out to move the other shirts obscuring it.

It was red, long-sleeved, it had a pocket and... a hood? He had never seen anything like it. He could wear it with the sleeves down to stay warm, but he could also push the sleeves up past his elbow if he wanted to! There was a pocket to store things in, and a hood to put on in case it rained!

The versatility! Loki chimed, excitement from Goro seeping into him. Robin shared the sentiment, offering his approval as well. It even has golden stars on it. I've never wanted something more.

Goro unhooked the... delicacy from the display, hanging it over his arm. He couldn't ask for more shirts, he didn't want that to be one of his first impressions on Jiro. Maybe suggesting that he needed pants, socks, and a new pair of shoes would be an understandable excuse.

"I think this is enough," he walked back towards his newest father, the shirts in his arms almost obscuring his face. "Maybe we could look at pants now?"

The man's eyebrows shot up. "Right, let's go do that." He gently took the clothes from Goro, allowing himself to become the human shopping bag. Izumi had the cart, after all. "You could have picked out more shirts, you know. We're building up a whole wardrobe from scratch."

"I- no," Goro began frantically, waving his now-free hands. "I couldn't ask you to do that. These are fine."

After a moment, Jiro sighed. "Well, if you say so. Don't be surprised when new clothes start showing up in your room later this week."

Goro was on the cusp of rebutting when the words sank in. Your room. When he thought of his rooms, whatever rundown closet-sized spaces (Glorified shoe boxes, Loki supplied) his old foster families had graciously provided him, he could only associate them with bad memories. Hiding away from punishment, cowering under the creaking box springs of his bed... Trying to blend in with the shadows in the closet, muffling his cries with a rough pillow. Whenever he imagined his old bedrooms, half-buried fear and sadness reared their ugly heads and attempted to swallow him whole.

But when Jiro said it, the fear and sadness never came. Instead, he felt a warm sensation spreading throughout his chest. It was like he was sitting in front of a fireplace, a warm mug of hot cocoa in his hands and a fleece blanket draped around his shoulders. Overall, he felt tingly. It was a foreign feeling, but it was something he could get used to.

He nodded fervently, a genuine grin stretching onto his face. "Thank you, Niijima-san!"

Jiro frowned down at him and Goro felt the warmth fading. Had he said something wrong? It took Robin and Loki holding him in place to keep him from running.

"Please, Jiro is fine," the man said patiently. He wasn't mad, Goro realized. "I understand if you're not comfortable with calling me father yet, so Jiro is fine. Niijima-san is too formal."

Goro released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Jiro-san," he settled on. Calling this man who had to be thirty years his senior just his first name didn't sit well with him. The honorific showed respect, and it allowed Goro to put some space between them. He couldn't let his walls fall down within a few hours of meeting someone - he learned that lesson the hard way.

Jiro sighed in defeat. "Whatever floats your boat, big guy," he blinked thoughtfully, a slight downward tug at his lips. "Are you fine with me calling you that? Is there anything specifically you want me to call you?"

Loki hummed, "Big guy" has nothing on the other things we've been called.

I kind of like it, Robin perked up. I think Goro-chan is the best, but that's our nickname for you.

"I don't mind," Goro replied, piecing the three of their thoughts together, "it's a lot better than what other families have called me."

His new father crouched down to meet his eyes - He really likes doing that, Loki mumbled offhandedly - and hovered a reassuring hand over his shoulder. Once again, he refrained from physically touching Goro, knowing that the boy might flinch away from his hand. He's really thoughtful, Robin smiled.

"Hey, I know I said this already but I want you to know you're safe with me and Izumi. I don't know what may have happened with your other foster families and you don't need to tell me, but we're going to make you feel at home the best that we can." Jiro smiled fondly at him, brown eyes soft with understanding. "None of us are going to hurt you and if any of us do or say something that makes you feel uncomfortable, all you need to do is tell us and we'll fix it."

Goro, unsure of where to begin, placed his hands on Jiro's and moved it down to actually touch his shoulder. Jiro's eyes widened slightly, but after overcoming his surprise, he squeezed his son's shoulder. Even in the absence of speech, the man could understand Goro's actions. The boy was giving him a chance.

"Thank you," was all Goro said, but Jiro could sense more behind those two words. Something unspoken, but the man wouldn't pry. Goro could tell him when he was ready.

When Jiro removed his hand, Goro nearly snapped forward to grab the man's wrist. Too childish, he chided himself, reluctantly allowing the warmth to fade from his shoulder. He had leaned into the man's touch too easily. Was he really this touch-starved?

Yes, Robin and Loki agreed in unison, and Goro found that he couldn't object.

"Let's go find some pants." Jiro met eyes with the boy before beginning to walk away. Goro, like some abandoned puppy, collected his bearings before following the man.

After a short walk through the boy's clothing section, he found himself staring at multiple displays. He strided towards the one labeled "Winter" and began looking through the material. He took a pair of long pants and carefully held it up to his frame, examining if they were his size.

"Do you know your size?" Jiro's voice reaffirmed Goro's concerns, and the boy nodded shamefully. "No, there's nothing wrong with that. We'll try some on and figure out from there, alright?"

Goro grabbed a few of the same style but in different sizes, and Jiro led him to a fitting room. He closed the door behind him, but it was reassuring to know that the man was right outside if he needed something. He began trying on the different pairs, a frown morphing his features. The first three pairs were too big, falling down to his knees if he didn't hold them up.

We're malnourished, Loki said carefully, uncertain if he truly wanted to open that can of worms. It's not our fault the orphanage never has enough food and our previous foster families starved us.

The boy nodded shakily in reply. Loki was right - it wasn't his fault about his past circumstances. He may have been a cursed child, but he didn't deserve that.

Robin frowned at the self-deprecation, goading Goro to try on the next pair. And when that one was too loose-fitting, the next one. Once they were on the penultimate pair, Goro took in a shuddering breath as he began to slip them on. Don't cry, they'll see that you're weak. You can't show that you're vulnerable, you'll get taken advantage of if you do that. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry-

Oh. This pair fit comfortably on his hips, not shifting or falling down when he let go. He took a few steps around the small fitting room, unable to keep the smile from growing on his face. He found his size! Loki and Robin cheered with him as he began taking them off to fold them. Putting on his ragged shorts from the orphanage made him feel disgusting, and he couldn't wait to change into these when they left the store.

He opened the door, and when he caught sight of Jiro to his left, he held up the pair the fit in a triumphant pose. "Found it!"

"I'm glad." Jiro confiscated the pile of pants that didn't fit and ruffled Goro's hair. Goro found that he didn't mind the gesture. "Now that we know your size, let's pick out some other things."

They headed back to the boy's section, Jiro placing the pants back onto the display. Goro hurried on ahead, a new sense of purpose filling him. He all but ravaged each individual display, picking out colors and designs that he, Loki, and Robin liked. Goro found that, while he leaned towards earthy colors, Loki liked blacks, whites, and grays, and Robin liked brighter colors. Pleasing all three of them was Goro's goal, so he allowed a gracious amount of input from the other two.

Still, he hated the Niijima's spending so much money on him when they had just adopted him. He recalled Jiro's playful threat - "Don't be surprised when new clothes start showing up in your room later this week." - and clung tighter to the pants he had picked out. He didn't want Jiro-san thinking he was ungrateful, so he would just have to keep his qualms of being humble to himself.

He decided that four pairs of long pants and three pairs of shorts was fine for now. If it were up to him, one pair of each would suffice for the year, but he knew Jiro would object and send him back to find more. Besides, he wanted Robin and Loki to have clothes that they liked too. It wouldn't be fair if everything was for Goro.

Once he found Jiro at the outskirts of the pants section pretending to examine a pair on display, Goro held up the pile to him. "I hope this isn't too much."

The man shook his head. "Absolutely not. I'd have you pick out more but I know you'd be happier if I didn't force you to."

Goro bit down a 'I don't want to be a burden' because Jiro-san certainly would have chided him for saying that. Instead, he said, "New pants would just magically appear in my room if I didn't, right?"

Jiro tilted his head, a sly smile on his face. "You catch on fast." He spun on his heel, walking to the next section. "Socks and underwear and all that good stuff next."

Goro followed, looking unsure at the growing heap of clothes in the police officer's hands. It seemed unfair to force Jiro-san to carry all of that by himself. Where was his wife, anyways? She had the shopping cart.

Caught up in his thoughts, the boy nearly collided with Jiro after the man stopped. Luckily, Loki caught him mid-step, allowing him to straighten out his body and look towards whatever stopped Jiro.

"A few of these pre-packaged sets should be fine, right," he seemed to be talking to himself, shifting all of Goro's clothes onto his left arm so he could sort through the underwear with his right hand. "Hey, what do you think of these?"

Goro found that he couldn't see the contents of the shelf Jiro was browsing through. He moved to stand on his tip-toes, but even then, he was still a head too short to see. Jiro seemed to catch onto his struggle, grabbing a few of the packages and holding them out to the boy to sift through.

All of them looked relatively plain. To be fair, they were meant to be worn under another layer at all times, so it would be foolish to waste stylish material on a hidden article of clothing. As long as he had enough, it didn't matter what they looked like.

"I have no complaints," he shrugged, and when the man reached out to take them, Goro clutched the packages tightly to his chest. "Jiro-san, your hands are already full, let me hold these."

Jiro exhaled through his nose in a laugh, looking at him fondly. "You're just like Makoto."

Goro racked his brain for their conversation back in the orphanage. "She's your youngest daughter, right? The one that's my age?"

The man nodded, beginning to walk towards socks. "You're really sharp for a six-year-old."

Grew up fast, considering our circumstances.

Loki wasn't wrong. Life had been anything but easy for them since his mother... was gone. He needed to learn how to survive in the orphanage, and figuring out other orphans and the adults that would try to adopt him was becoming second nature. In order to sweet talk the adults, he did his best to pick up on more prodigious words to augment his vocabulary (Showoff, Loki had grumbled.) and work on developing a silver tongue. One of his foster homes had a dictionary that he attempted to sear into his memory, and when he was unsuccessful and attempted to steal the book while he was being brought back to the orphanage, he earned an ugly scar on his hand. A mark to forever remind him that he was a thief, a no-good kid tarnishing their property with his grubby little hands.

"Hey, are you coming or not?"

Goro blinked out of his memory, snapping his attention back to Jiro-san. He needed to stop doing that. One of these days, somebody would kidnap him while he was off in dreamland.

"Sorry, lost in thought," he apologized briefly, rushing to catch up with the man. In truth, Jiro wasn't more than a few feet away from Goro. "Socks now? I'm fine with a few plain white pairs..."

The man handed Goro two packages of white socks, containing about twelve pairs. "I figured you would say that so I went ahead and grabbed them for you."

"O-oh," Goro stammered, adding the socks to the bundle of plastics he had in his grasp. "I guess my tastes are predictable."

"While they may be," Jiro began, not unlike a teacher might introduce a counterpoint, "plain and simple looks clean and professional. Or, maybe your clothing choices just seem like you want to blend in."

Goro averted his eyes with a frown. Plain clothes were easier to make oneself scarce with. Simple clothes did not draw attention.

A sigh. "If that's what you want to wear, I'm not stopping you." However, Jiro's voice seemed to lilt up playfully when he said, "This red hoodie with bright golden stars certainly belies that expectation."

Goro gazed up, bashfully examining the hoodie - what a simple name for such an astounding article of clothing - the three of them fell in love with at first sight. Red as a color is innately eye-catching, and the golden stars that seemed to pop in contrast against the crimson only added to that. The hoodie stood out starkly against the other clothes in Jiro's arms.

"I just really liked it," he said quietly, as if it were a secret being shared between conspirators. As if he spoke any louder and the rest of the world heard, God himself would descend down from heaven, smack him across the face for ever thinking he had the privilege to enjoy things, and snatch the hoodie from his fingers and take it back with him to the skies.

Maybe that's too extreme, Loki admitted after a beat of silence.

Jiro gave him an encouraging look. "You're allowed to like things, Goro. No need to feel ashamed."

Goro offered him a nod, not trusting his tongue. He's right, you know, Robin filled in the silence as Jiro led the way to the shoe department. He nodded again, garnet eyes tracing his footsteps. Maybe he was allowed these little privileges, just like everyone else was.

Once they were surrounded by shelves full of shoe boxes on either side of the aisle, Jiro led Goro to take a seat on a stool. As the boy neatly placed the plastic packages of underwear and socks, he felt his shoe being taken off. Glancing back in surprise, he watched as Jiro placed his foot into some sort of... foot-shaped contraption.

"It tells you your shoe size," the man explained, sliding a curve of metal until it touched Goro's toes. "Hm. You were one and a half sizes too big for the shoes you're wearing right now. I didn't even know that could be possible."

We defy a lot of expectations, apparently. Robin smirked triumphantly.

Goro rolled his eyes in reply. "I've been told I defy a lot of expectations," he smiled, "apparently, that is."

Jiro laughed, taking off his other shoe. Once it was off, Goro realized how liberating it felt. He felt like a bird let out of its cage. How had he ever lived before being adopted by the Niijima's?

While Jiro held Goro's old shoes and watched over their stuff, the boy walked through the aisle and looked at every pair of shoes his size. He wanted a pair of sneakers, something that he could comfortably run in. His eyes caught on a box with red sneakers, laced together with pure white laces. His hands reached for the box before he could even consider the motion.

I really like these... Robin said, examining the box as well.

These would match the hoodie too. Loki seemed to nod in approval, satisfied with the choice.

Goro ended up trying on the shoes. The bright red contrasted heavily against his old battered and beaten socks. Standing out a little bit wouldn't hurt, right? He could deal with some attention if it meant he could wear these.

"Those look great on you." Jiro beamed, holding the box on top of all of Goro's other clothes. What a martyr. "It looks like you chose what you really wanted this time."

Goro couldn't help but imagine Jiro-san as the old, wise mentor figure who stood imposingly over his students, towering only in knowledge rather than height. He nearly expected a "The true journey is about the clothes you wore along the way," while he carefully untied and renounced the shoes back into the box. He blinked back his childish disappointment when the remark never came.

"How about another pair of whatever you want and then snow boots?" Jiro finished sliding in all of the cardboard flaps back into the box's slits, preventing the shoes from tumbling out. "It's November, there's sure to be snow sometime soon."

He nodded in reply, eyes already scouting for two other pairs. Per Robin's request, he picked out a flat, cerulean blue shoe with similar white laces as his red sneakers. On the other hand, Loki asked for a pair of plain black snow boots. Jiro seemed pleased with his choices as well, adding the three boxes into the growing pile accumulating in his arms. At this point, Goro couldn't see the man's face behind all of the clothes and boxes that obscured it.

"Is... that safe?" He asked tentatively, occupied with his own collection of socks and underwear. Truthfully, as much as he wanted to share the burden and take some of the clothes, Goro's arms weren't long enough to accommodate any more luggage.

Jiro might have grinned when he said, "I've dealt with worse," but Goro couldn't see his face. "I've had to see through and navigate with worse conditions on the job."

It was an answer that left much up to interpretation, and Goro figured it was meant to be vague. Jiro probably didn't expect a six year old to understand him if he were to divulge into some police investigation story. Well, that was fine. Goro could keep his secrets too.

I don't think that was the message you were supposed to get from that, Goro-chan, Robin said offhandedly, more to himself if anything. Loki's quiet hum seemed to reaffirm this.

Just when Goro found it in him to reply, his eyes caught on a display. There was a blank-faced mannequin sculpted in the shape of a superhero pose. It was wearing a plain white shirt with a graphic design on it, and it had on matching sleep pants with a similar print. Next to the statue was a table with the corresponding shirts and pants.

Loki let out a hardly refrained groan. Oh, Jiro-san's going to love this one-

Goro nearly dropped this packages in his arms when he ran over to the display. "Featherman pajamas," he breathed, eyes lighting up with stars. "Jiro-san, I'm not dreaming right?"

Jiro blinked, twisting his head to the side so he could see past the boxes. "Nope. You're not dreaming."

Belying the excitement that electrified his entire being, he sifted through the materials with a meticulous precision to find his size. He was careful with the fabric, as if grabbing it too quickly would cause it to vanish in his hands. As such, he found the correct size for the shirt and pants in a painstakingly long minute before hugging the material against the plastic containers pressed on his chest. "I've always wanted a Featherman shirt."

His heart was fluttering. If there was any point in life where he would grow wings and fly, it was right now. He was on cloud nine, his dreams finally coming true. This was it. The best moment in his life. It couldn't get better than this.

Somehow, Jiro managed to shift the weight of all the shirts, pants, and shoe boxes onto one arm so that he could ruffle Goro's hair. Maybe Jiro could defy expectations, too. "I don't think we can top that, so let's go find Izumi and pay for these," he redistributed the weight of the apparel to share evenly in his arms. "I can't wait to put all of this in the cart so we don't need to carry it anymore."

Somewhere in his dreamlike trance, Goro nodded. He couldn't wait to go home and wear some of his new clothes. The longer he wore his outfit from the orphanage, the more disgusting it felt. A nice warm bath and changing into fresh new clothes... just a few hours ago, he could have never entertained the thought.

His legs seemed to move on his own as he followed Jiro, his mind too caught up in his musings. He didn't mind following Jiro, knowing that the man held no ill will towards Goro. He had been sure to reascertain that fact to Goro many times during their shopping trip. Jiro had been patient and understanding, and Goro had shied away like some beaten, abandoned puppy afraid of the caring stranger that tried to feed him.

Jiro was a man he wouldn't mind calling father. Maybe not today, but... eventually.

Goro wanted to trust the man, but something deep down urged him to not fall prey to gifts and affection so easily. He had desired attention and love so intimately, in a way so intricately woven into his heart - that even the slightest touch could win over his trust if he wasn't careful. It was impossible to completely suppress his inhibitions.

Izumi waved them over. She had quite a lot of items in her shopping cart, and Goro instantly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He had picked out too many clothes. They weren't going to have enough money to pay for the rest of their groceries because of his indulgence-

Hey, it's fine, Loki chided but there was no edge to his words, Jiro-san said they had enough money. He wouldn't offer if money was a concern.

Please don't worry yourself over this, Goro-chan, Robin placated. Just take some deep breaths, okay?

Goro took in a shuddering breath, giving the slightest nod of his head to acknowledge Loki and Robin's concern. He strode forward with Jiro-san, dropping the clothes in his arms into the shopping cart as delicately as he could. He averted his eyes from the cart's contents, feeling a wave of uncertainty. It felt like breeching a wall of privacy.

"Shopping with Jiro went okay?" Izumi asked politefully, crimson eyes glittering like rubies despite the artificial lights overhead. "I hope he didn't give you too much trouble."

"Hey!" Jiro protested playfully, walking forward to stand besides Goro. "We got a bunch of new clothes for him without burning the place down. I think we did fine."

"And you would be the one here investigating it if the store did catch on fire, Jiji," she shut her eyes but her traitorous smirk said enough about her teasing. She winked demurely, kindness replacing her playful stint from earlier. "I'm glad you two had time to bond."

Goro, realizing that he hadn't spoken at all in this conversation, finally piped up. "I had a good time." He found his eyes on his shoes, but at the sight of those ugly excuses for footwear, he averted his eyes to the patterned tiles of the flooring.

A hand ruffling his hair snapped him out of his staring contest. He was unsurprised to find Jiro looking down at him with all of the love and fondness of... an actual father. "I certainly enjoyed it."

Standing in line, purchasing the goods, and placing the bags into the cart was nebulous in Goro's brain. The image of Jiro staring down at him, ruffling his hair stuck out in his mind like it was painted on the inside of his eyelids, replaying every time he blinked. A cold feeling gripped his heart, causing him to suck in a shaky breath. The absence of a father for the last six years of his life felt like ice water in his veins. How was it fair that he was missing out on this? He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. The image of Jiro was gone.

"Your father is an awful man," a woman said, the light in her ruby eyes faded into obscurity, "a good for nothing man."

The note tapped to the ceiling above the bathtub shared a similar sentiment.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. What... what was that? Shivers wracked his body and unshed tears prickled in his eyes. He looked down, wiping at his eyes before somebody saw him. An unsettling feeling of fear clenched his heart, unrelenting in its grip even as he followed Jiro and Izumi out of the store and towards the car.

He was silent as he entered the car and buckled his seat belt, earlier enthusiasm drained from his system and replaced with a static nothingness. Happiness faded so quickly that he wondered if it was ever truly there at all.

Izumi asked him something but her voice was muted, as if he was in a fish tank and submerged in water. Loki or Robin must have answered for him because she nodded in reply before turning around in her seat. Right now, nothing felt real. His eyes were on his hands but his brain was having trouble processing... well, anything at the moment.

Hey.

His skin was... pale. And there was a scar on his right hand. His fingers seemed to shake in his lap. His shorts were black and very worn.

Goro-chan. Can you hear me?

There was a bruise on his left knee that left the skin discolored. He noticed other small cuts running up his thigh, decorating his skin like the paint strokes of an artist. There was no art here, not on the canvas of his skin.

Goro.

His fingers were digging into his thighs, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake. The pinching sensation was almost indistinguishable in his trance. They dug deeper, pinching gradually growing into small stabs-

Goro!

Goro came back to himself with a start, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He removed his fingers from his thighs, feeling the dull ache that throbbed in his legs. It hurt, but he had survived under much worse. Loki and Robin seemed to sigh in shared relief, glad that he finally snapped out of his... whatever that was. Goro did a lot of things that he had no name for, despite his expansive vocabulary. It was embarrassing, really.

"Goro?" Izumi tested the waters, her voice careful - like she was walking on eggshells. "Is everything okay?"

Bright red eyes watched him in concern. They weren't the same eyes, there was still life in them-

"Y-yeah," he breathed out, reassuring himself just as much as he was reassuring Izumi. "Everything is just... a little overwhelming."

She nodded in understanding. "It's a lot. I get it." Goro was certain she was being completely genuine. "Do you still want to go out for food? I can cook at home if you aren't feeling up to it."

Truthfully, Goro wanted to lay down and sleep for a year. But just the thought of home cooking was enough of a temptation to stay awake. "If it wouldn't be too much to ask," he began tentatively, the dull pang of hunger in his stomach grounding him, "Home cooking sounds great."

Izumi smiled. "It's never too much to ask. I enjoy cooking, especially for my kids."

Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat. He was never going to get used to this... constant, unconditional love... for... for him!

"And you'll finally get to meet your big sisters!" Jiro interjected from the driver's seat, taking his eyes off the road to look at Goro through the rear view mirror. "They're going to be so excited to meet you."

Nervousness seemed to bubble in Goro's stomach. As well as... anticipation? (Aren't those the same thing? Robin asked, much to Loki's dismay.) He figured that, normally, he would be feeling dread right now. He would be afraid of meeting his new sisters, that they would see him as a threat to their own well-being. He was another mouth to feed, another body to clothe; another child to care and love and tend to. He would be imposing on a family that existed just fine without him.

But. This time, it would be different. Along with the nervousness and anticipation, there was hope. The Niijima's had wanted a son. The youngest Niijima daughter wanted a younger brother. He fit both of those categories so... he could only swallow his fear and hope for the best.

The car slowed to a halt, and with a new drive of confidence, Goro unbuckled his seat belt and had his hand on the door handle before they were even in park. Maybe a little too antsy.

And holding plastic bags full of his new belongings and waiting on the front steps as his new parents unlocked the door to his new home, he couldn't quite contain the hope swelling in his chest.

Chapter Text

Goro scuffed his old shoes against the granite stairs, waiting for Jiro and Izumi to unlock the door. He could hardly wait to change out of his current rags and put on some of his new clothes. Once he had tried on other clothes, he had realized just how small and dirty his old ones were; his feet especially ached once he had taken off those bright red sneakers and were shoved back into the ratty excuse for footwear he had on right now.

Jiro unlocked the door, pushing it open with his shoulder. All three of them were loaded with shopping bags, and Goro was finding the weight of his new belongings heavy in his arms. He had the overwhelming conviction that he didn't deserve these clothes, he didn't deserve to be standing outside of this home, and that he didn't deserve to be welcomed into this family. He was just an outsider with ragged clothes, unkempt hair, dirt and filth obscuring his bruises and scars like concealer he could never afford.

"We're home," Izumi called into the house, stepping inside the genkan. She and Jiro slid off their shoes and encouraging Goro to do the same. He shoved his thoughts down, resolving to sort through them later - preferably when he was inside the house and not freezing out on the front step. He toed his shoes off as soon as he was inside, beyond grateful to shed the constricting pair of footwear. He could actually feel his toes again.

"Oh." Jiro abruptly stopped in place, blocking Izumi and Goro's path into the living room. "The girls aren't here."

Goro's eyes widened. Their daughters... weren't there? Had they been kidnapped? Or maybe Jiro-san and Izumi-san were truly awful people and, once they were out of the house, their daughters ran away. His heart began to race. His first impression had been right. The clothes shopping and sweet, disarming words were all a part of a ploy to lure him in and-

"Sae left a note..." Jiro had strided over to the living room table sometime during Goro's internal war. Izumi was hovering over her husband's shoulder, reading the note as well. Goro's body felt rooted in place, his feet glued to the ground and his bones stubbornly refusing to move. "Makoto begged me to bring her to the movie theater. The movie she wanted to see is appropriate for her age so don't worry about that. We should be home by eight. Signed, Sae."

The tension in Goro's shoulders seemed to fade and he sucked in a gulp of air. Robin seemed to hum a silent I told you so, despite Goro never voicing his concerns aloud. Loki's halfhearted, We hear your thoughts loud and clear, you know caused Goro to bite back a grumble and finally enter the living room.

The first thing that came to his mind was this looks like a home. The living room was decorated with used furniture, well worn from years of use. By the right wall was a wooden table with a box TV on it. In front of the TV was a kotatsu, a more modern version by the looks of it, and it was surrounded on all four fronts with tatami mats. Goro had read about the new style - the oki-gatatsu , as he learned it was called - and had always wanted one. His mother had never been able to afford one, and when his foster families owned one, they usually had the more traditional hori-gatatsu and were sure as hell not going to allow Goro to use it.

To the left, the kitchen was connected to the living room. Although Goro could hardly see inside from where he was in front of the door, it looked relatively small but littered with cooking supplies. It was most likely used just for cooking and meals were eaten elsewhere. The kotatsu probably served as a dining table as well.

Izumi made her way over to the kitchen, arms loaded with grocery bags of food. "Well, while the girls are out, this is the perfect opportunity for you to get situated in your new room and cleaned up." She looked towards her husband and gestured towards their new son. "Jiji, why don't you show Goro his new room and prepare a bath for him?"

Jiro nodded and placed one of the bags onto the living room floor. From where Goro was standing by the door, he couldn't make out the contents. The two males made eye contact shortly after while Jiro said, "You can come inside, you know. From now on, this is your house too."

Goro's heart caught in his throat, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. For training himself how to act around adults and master language as fast as he could, he failed to produce any words. After a beat too long to be natural, he gave a shaky nod of his head and found his gaze on the carpeted flooring as he stepped into the middle of the living room.

Jiro frowned, drawing his eyebrows together. Goro still seemed bashful, as if he felt unwelcome into the house. The officer figured it was to be expected, considering they had just adopted the boy a few hours ago. It would be foolish to trust strangers so soon, but still - Goro's alternating moods of unadulterated adoration and blatant distrust were an unpredictable dance that Jiro had not gained his footing in just yet.

"Your room and the bathroom are both upstairs," he tilted his head slightly, hoping to convey that he was harmless and there was nothing to be afraid of, "so just follow me. I'm sure your arms are tired from holding those bags too."

Jiro watched as Goro winced, shoulders retaining a small, almost imperceptible tremble. Nevertheless, the boy nodded again and said, "Okay," in a very small voice. Maybe there was a facet of held-out hope stuck somewhere between the no man's land of the original dichotomy.

The two left the living room and made their way into the small hallway. On the right side was a closet, and directly across from it on the left was a staircase. Goro followed the man up the stairs with tentative steps, arms aching from pulling his muscles taut to accommodate the grocery bags full of clothes. Truthfully, the boy could hardly wait to put all of his new belongings down and rest his arms.

Once they were on the second floor, Goro took in the sight before him. There were five doors - three on the left and two on the right. As they walked by the rooms, Goro peered inside each one to get a glimpse of the belongings. The first door on the left seemed to be Jiro and Izumi's, if the large bed and work desks on either side of the room meant anything. The second door on the left was most likely Sae's, seeing the high school uniform folded on the edge of the bed and the bag sat next to it.

Jiro stopped in front of the first door on the right, and when Goro glanced over, the ivory tiles, counter sink, and bathtub were enough of a give away as to which room it was. "I'll start running the water, feel free to check out your room."

Goro nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek as his arms felt like they were about to give in under the weight of the bags. He looked to the last door on the left and, seeing the stuffed animals and coloring books on the ground, decided that it was Makoto's room. That meant that the second door on the right was his, the one adjacent to the bathroom.

Upon entering the room, he couldn't help but realize how plain the room looked. The floor was vacuumed and, well, there was hardly anything in the room. A single nightstand, a dresser, a closet in the corner, and a window.

It's... something, was all Loki could manage, just as disappointed as Goro was.

He let the bags fall from his arms, pulling his arms close to himself in hopes of relieving the ache reverberating in his bones. Robin attempted to soothe both of them, pointing out that having a room at all was a step up from the orphanage. While it was true, Goro felt sadness crawl in the bottom of his stomach. For some reason, seeing the other personalized and well-used rooms made his magazine cut-out feel hollow. It confirmed that he was not a part of this family, merely an outsider that was taken in out of pity.

A hand ruffled his hair suddenly, jolting him out of his thoughts. "This was our old guest room. We were going to renovate it for a little boy but we wanted to give you the choice about how you wanted it to look," Jiro explained, placing the rest of Goro's new clothes next to the bags already by his feet. "I didn't get the chance to grab the futon or the spare blankets and set that up yet, I was planning on doing that while you were in the bath." He laughed sheepishly.

"How about this," the man began his proposition. "I'll let you organize your clothes in the dresser however you want while I get out of your hair and finish setting up your bath."

Goro, a bit overwhelmed with the changed course of the conversation, found the unbridled desire to want to be alone to reconsider his thoughts. "I'd like that," he muttered his agreement, turning his gaze to the cluster of plastic bags at his feet. He had a lot of sorting through he needed to do.

Jiro nodded, walking out into the hallway. "Let me know if you need anything, I'm right next door, okay?"

"I will," he reaffirmed, already taking some of the clothes out of the bags by the time Jiro had left. Glancing up at the dresser, he noticed that there were four drawers. "Top left can be socks and underwear," he mumbled to himself. "And that leaves a drawer for each of us..."

I want the bottom left, Loki said immediately, impulsive as always. Slightly... childish, if anything. L for left and L for Loki.

Robin huffed in amusement. Well, I guess I'll take the bottom right if that's the logic we're using...

"Top right for me then," Goro hummed to himself, beginning to organize the clothes based on who liked which ones. The sorting went completely fine without any complications until they found the red hoodie with golden stars. Goro's fingers tightened around the soft material.

As much as I like it, Robin began.

We all know who deserves it the most. Loki finished.

Goro hugged it to his chest. "Thanks, guys. It belongs to all of us, regardless of whose drawer it goes in."

I'm about to change my mind if you keep acting humble, Loki jested. You should wear it after the bath. I want to see how we look in it.

That was a good idea. Goro opened the drawers again, deciding what to put on after the bath. It was too early for bed, so he would wait on the Featherman pajamas; he could change into those after dinner. Robin guided his hand to one of the pairs of comfy black sweatpants, and Loki picked out one of the plain t-shirts they bought to wear under the hoodie. Goro grabbed a new pair of underwear and socks, holding the bundle of clothes close to his chest, and used his foot to close all of the drawers before walking to the bathroom.

As expected, Jiro was leaning over the bathtub with a bottle of soap in his hands. Endless bubbles flitted on the surface of the water, nearly convincing Goro there was no water in the tub at all. Jiro seemed to notice him, turning to the boy standing in the door. "Do you want me to help you take a bath, or will you be fine on your own?" There was no malice hidden in his tone, and Goro truthfully felt like any answer he gave would be accepted in all honesty.

And as Jiro-san was still a stranger - a very nice stranger, Robin corrected - Goro responded with, "I'm fine by myself, thank you."

Jiro nodded, finishing up with adding bubbles to the water. "Totally fine. I wouldn't want to impede on your privacy." He pointed out the bathroom necessities, making sure to explain what they are and what their functions were. "Don't hesitate to call for me if you need anything, though. And I mean it. Don't feel like you're a bother. I'll come in here and add more bubbles if that's what you want."

Someone's really insistent, Loki hummed, but there was undoubtedly an intonation of affection in his voice.

"I just want to be certain you know you're loved." Jiro resolved, and Goro realized that Loki had said that out loud, "I know you don't come from the happiest of pasts, and I hope six isn't too late to reconcile that."

Goro felt as if he should be offended about Jiro bringing up his past as a conversation point. Robin reminded him that it was done with good intentions, as a reminder that his life would be better from here on out. "N-no," he said finally, clutching the clothes closer to his chest, "six isn't too late at all."

He didn't want to imagine living in the orphanage until he was eighteen. He hardly wanted to imagine living in the orphanage past fifteen. Teenage boys didn't get adopted, and they had no hope to change. Six years old meant that he had his entire life ahead of him - he had his whole life to change and learn to live.

Jiro put the soap back by the tub, ruffled Goro's hair, and made for the door. "I'll stop being overbearing and let you take your bath. Yell if you need anything."

Goro nodded, eyes trailing Jiro's retreating form as he closed the door behind him. The boy placed his new clothes on the counter in a neat, folded pile. As the bath was already made, he stripped, leaving his old rags on the floor and stepped into the tub.

As soon as the warm water and bubbles touched his skin, Goro felt himself melting into the tub. Is this heaven? Robin asked, voice thrumming in delight.

Loki moved Goro's hand, grabbing a handful of bubbles. I don't think we've had a bubble bath since before the orphanage.

"Makes this even nicer, doesn't it?" He asked, rubbing the bubbles into his scalp. He worked his way down to the rest of his hair. "I think I want to cut my hair a little shorter..."

Now, when you have more resources to maintain it? Robin inquired. I thought you liked having longer hair.

"Well..." Goro tilted his head back, rinsing the water out of brown locks, "I do, but I thought we could try something new." He pouted slightly, "unless you guys don't want me to...?"

Loki huffed, I'm indifferent. Whatever makes you happy, makes us happy.

The boy hummed noncommittally. With his hair cleaned, Goro found the sponge puff and began to scrub the dirt off his skin. "I've never used one of these before."

Robin hummed, eying the colorful puffball in curiosity. It... tickles.

"It's nice, though," Goro murmured, cleaning himself off. His skin grew noticeably lighter without the dirt and muck coating it. With the growing redness spreading across his arms, he realized he may have gotten carried away. He cleaned off the rest of his skin, more meticulously than he had rubbed at his arms.

The water was beginning to grow cold so he pulled the stopper, watching the mini typhoon that spun at the drain. Goro found himself mesmerized with the sight, only pulling his gaze away once the tub was already half drained. He stepped out of the bathtub, reaching for the towel on the counter and wrapping it around himself as shivers wracked his entire body.

He slumped to the ground, tucking his head between his knees under the towel. In his tightly-wound ball, he was like a hibernating animal, curling into itself for warmth. Perhaps he wasn't too different from that after all.

His arms began to move on their own, using the towel to dry his body. You'll catch a cold if you stay like this, Robin reprimanded softly, I'll take care of it if you want to rest.

Goro nodded slightly, water dripping off his bangs and running down his face. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to relax, drifting away from consciousness. Robin was willing and Goro was tired.

Once Goro was... asleep, for the lack of a better word, Robin slipped into his skin. He toweled himself off before wringing through his hair, watching as drops of water stained the towel at his feet. Maybe they were due for a hair cut after all.

Robin shifted his gaze to the mirror, blinking in fascination. Their skin looked much cleaner than before, and it was a shade or two lighter without the dirt and grime. Dark bags hung under their garnet eyes and the hardly visible scar on their forehead became apparent in the artificial lights. That particular scar came from the first time Loki had been in control, much too willing to get revenge on their foster parents at the time for hurting Goro.

I was just born and the first thing I knew was anger, Loki protested, voice quiet, Goro-chan needed somebody to hate for him, and so I did.

Robin continued to dry their hair, still keeping his eyes on the mirror. "I never said you were wrong for protecting him."

Sometimes, Robin wished he could have lashed out against their abusers like Loki had. Where Loki would seethe, snarl, and fight back, Robin would stand strong and take a beating. If Robin could hurt and soak up the pain for Goro, he would do it in a heartbeat. Loki was Goro's sword, so it made sense for Robin to be his shield.

Robin let the towel fall to the floor by his feet, clumping it together with their old rags. He began to put on their new clothes, smiling to himself at the feel of the new fabric against his skin. All of this was so much better than what they had been given over the past two years. The black sweatpants were fuzzy and felt cozy against his legs, and even the plain t-shirt he tugged on was comfy in how loose it was. His fingers stalled on the hoodie before he pulled it over his head, adjusting the hood so it sat evenly between his shoulders.

We look good, Loki grinned. And everything is comfortable, too.

"I can't remember the last time we had clothes that fit us," Robin murmured, doing small turns to appraise himself in the mirror. "When mom was still around?"

Loki seemed to bristle at that. We weren't even around when she was alive.

"Yet we still have Goro-chan's memories of her." His eyes narrowed, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

All of the negative memories of her were shoved onto me, Loki said softly, so I'm sorry if I'm not the happiest when thinking about her.

"Oh?" Robin rose an eyebrow at that, but he turned away from the mirror. He pulled on socks while he waited for Loki's reply.

A quiet sigh. Mom wasn't always good to Goro-chan, you know. She had bad days and took them out on him sometimes.

Robin's fingers tightened on the elastic of the sock, frown deepening. He only had good memories of their mother, despite not existing until after her death. "I... didn't know that," he stated dumbly.

That's because Goro-chan gave them to me, so he wouldn't have to think of his mother like that. Loki sighed once more. I'd much rather burden myself with these memories than let him suffer. Let him remember his mother as a good woman. It's what got him through the orphanage and foster homes.

Shaking his head, Robin took the bundle of old clothes and used towel off the ground and into his arms. "You should have told me. You shouldn't have to shoulder those alone."

Loki gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. Goro-chan deserves to be happy, and I'll hold these memories until he wants them. You don't need to worry yourself over me, Robin.

Robin huffed. As much as he wanted to argue, Loki was stubborn when it came to Goro's well being. If he wanted to be some kind of martyr, that was fine. And if Loki ever wanted to share the burden, at least he knew that Robin was willing to help. They were both there to help Goro, and being there to help each other was just as important.

He walked towards the door, shifting the bundle into the crook of his elbow so he could turn the knob. Switching the light off, he headed to their bedroom. To his surprise, Jiro was there, laying out a heavy comforter on top of a futon. It looked like some of the furniture had been moved around while they had been in the bath.

"You look great, kiddo!" Jiro grinned, and Robin couldn't suppress the smile on his own face. The officer seemed to notice the bundle of clothes and towel in his arms. "Here, let me take those from you."

Robin handed the bunch over willingly, rubbing at the back of his head. "Thank you, Jiro-san..."

"It's not a problem at all, really," The man said. Glancing down at the rags sitting on top of the towel, he couldn't wait to throw them away. Goro didn't need a reminder of how badly he was treated, especially now that he had a new home, clothes, and a family that loved him. "I'll take care of this for you. How about you help Izumi with dinner? It would be good for you two to bond a little."

Robin nodded, brown locks swaying with the motion. "I'd like that."

Jiro smiled again and left the room to tend to the old clothes, leaving Robin to himself. He looked around the room, inspecting the contents. The blinds for the window were drawn closed, and the walls were barren of any belongings. A small table sat next to the futon, acting as a nightstand. Pressed into one of the corners was the dresser with all of their clothes in it, and there was a box television on a table in the other corner. Considering it was previously the Niijima's guest room, it made sense that there was no personality to the room.

He sat down on the futon before falling onto his back. The comforter was soft and puffy, and Robin bounced slightly like the futon was a trampoline. He leaned forward a little bit before falling again, enjoying the bounciness.

He blinked, remembering his original purpose for not heading downstairs immediately. Goro? he asked, doing his best to prod the boy. Do you want to get up now?

Loki sighed. He's dead asleep right now. Today wore him out.

Robin let his head sink further into the comforter. "Why don't you bond with our new mom then?"

If you don't want to, sure.

Robin shut his eyes. Being in control of the body was taxing and he had trouble maintaining it for long periods of time. Besides, he had spent time with Jiro, so it would only be fair if Loki spent time with Izumi. He drifted off into blissful unconsciousness.

Loki opened his eyes, pushing himself off the futon. Robin was right - this comforter felt heavenly compared to their previous living conditions. It was like laying on a cloud. He convinced himself to get up, he could rest later. Robin had promised Jiro that they would help with dinner, so Loki would follow through with that.

He left the bedroom and walked towards the stairs. The hallway walls were decorated with pictures and certificates. Family photos, Sae and Makoto at various ages, a publication deal for Izumi, Jiro's certification. Memories spread along every inch of the walls and, as much as he hated himself for it, Loki felt a subdued pang of anger in the pit of his stomach.

Loki refused to admit that he knew the name of Goro's father. It was one of the memories of his mother that Goro had shoved onto him, and it was something that Loki kept hidden. Goro and Robin didn't need to know, and Loki knew it would only upset the two. So, he would keep the name Shido Masayoshi to himself, close to his chest, and far away from Goro. The man that ruined their chance at having a family, the one that broke their mother, the person that caused all of the suffering Goro had suffered in his short life...

He swallowed down the rage building up in his stomach. They had a new family now. A loving, caring family that only wanted the best for Goro. Loki didn't need to fight tooth and nail to protect Goro, so he could let his hatred simmer down and bury it for the time being. He had been born from hatred, anger, and sadness, but for right now, he could pretend to be a regular six year old and help his mother cook dinner.

Taking careful steps down the staircase, Loki took measured breaths. Goro was safe here, he didn't need to be maintaining a fight-or-flight mechanism right now. He just needed to sit in the kitchen, get to know Izumi, and help cook dinner. Social skills was something Loki needed to work on - it was something that Goro and Robin had more experience with, considering Loki was the weapon most of the time. He pushed back the anger clawing up his throat, focusing on the carpeted stairs beneath his feet and the smoothness of the wooden banister against his fingers.

Upon entering the kitchen, Izumi turned away from the pot in front of her and looked down at Loki. "You look handsome, young man."

Goro would smile at that compliment, so Loki plastered his best attempt onto his face. "Thanks," he said eloquently, his lips quirked up in an awful facsimile of Goro's - or even Robin's, for that matter - smile. "I haven't had a bath in a while. Or clothes that I liked." His speech was choppy and childlike compared to Goro's. Talking was certainly not one of Loki's strong suits.

Izumi nodded, a sad glint in her red eyes. (In that moment, Loki couldn't help but compare them to Goro's mother's eyes, tinted with sadness and clutching a cheap bottle of sake in her bony fingers.) "Now that you're with us, you can take a bath whenever you want, and you'll always have clothes you like." She spun on her heel to grab something off the counter, bringing it over to the small table that Loki stood next to. "Did you want to help me with dinner?"

Loki looked up to her, considering he only stood as tall as her hips. He gave her a nod before climbing onto a chair so he could see above the table. "Jiro-san asked me if I wanted to help and I did." A little repetitive, but it conveyed his message.

Izumi slid the bowl closer to him, moving the wooden spoon inside of it so that the handle pointed towards Loki. "It would be a big help if you could stir that for me." She ran delicate fingers through his hair, tilting her head slightly. "Your hair is so soft, Goro. Has anybody told you that?"

Loki could remember the distinct feeling of being grabbed by his hair and thrown to the ground. He could remember being held up by his hair and a previous foster father using a pocket knife and cutting his forehead by his left temple.

"No," he answered, fingers twitching around the handle of the spoon. "I... was thinking about cutting it."

Well. Goro was thinking about cutting it. But he was standing in for Goro right now, so he could be the messenger. Besides, anything to get his mind off unpleasant memories was a welcome change of conversation.

Izumi held the ends delicately, thumbing through the thin strands. "It'll look great either way, I'm sure. Jiji or I could take you sometime this week, depending on if you really want to or not."

Loki began to stir the mixture, keeping his eyes on the contents of the bowl. Honestly, he had no idea what she was making. The mixture was somewhat thick, offering resistance against his spoon, and it was a pinkish-orange color. He had never seen anything like it, but he had to admit that it smelled appetizing.

Izumi leaned back, removing her fingers from Loki's hair. "I'll stop bothering you and finish up my part." She made her way back to the other side of the kitchen and lingered by a small box. "Would you mind if I put the radio on? I usually have music on to liven up the room."

"Sure," he said, still focusing on putting enough force into mixing the contents of the bowl. He was indifferent to music, and he wasn't about to tell his new mother no to putting on the radio in her own kitchen. Leaning forward to improve the control he had on the spoon, he kept tossing his head to the side to get his hair out of his face. He mumbled to himself, "yeah, we're getting a hair cut."

Luckily, Izumi didn't seem to hear him, already raising the volume for whatever song was on the radio. She sang along to the song, belting the parts she knew and mumbling the parts she didn't. Nevertheless, she was constantly moving with the beat, light on her feet and bouncing on her heels.

Seeing her brown hair swaying with each movement, Loki watched as the scene before him melted into something similar. His mother, dancing around their small, cluttered living room - singing a song to herself, surely off-key and out of time. There was no rhythm, no pattern - just a young woman dancing to her own beat and taking his small hands in her own, swinging him around and around. When he looked up to her, her face was a blur, distorted after all these years.

He shook his head, grounding himself with the tinny sound of the radio. That was one of Goro's memories, probably hastily shoved into Loki along with the bad ones. He turned back to the bowl, finding his rhythm and pulling his spoon through the mixture. He could be allowed a happy memory, right? Goro and Robin weren't the only ones allowed to see their mother as kind.

Izumi stepped back to the table, inspecting the mixture. Her long hair was tousled and there was a light beading of sweat on her forehead beneath her bangs. "That's perfect, Goro," she praised, taking the bowl in her hands, "thank you so much!"

Loki blinked up at her owlishly, belatedly realizing he should say something. "I had fun," he said finally, nodding shakily, "I want to help more." His impulsivity was something he needed to work on. Whatever came to mind first is what he said, and his tongue usually spoke before his brain could catch up. "I-If that's okay with you..."

Izumi laughed, bringing the bowl over to the kitchen counter so that her back was to Loki. The radio buzzed along, muting her footsteps. "Goro sweetie, you've helped me more than enough today," she tilted the bowl slightly, using the spoon to scoop out whatever the mixture was onto... whatever she had in front of her, Loki couldn't see - "I just need to put this on the salmon before it goes in the oven, and I already have the rice cooking so, well..."

Loki let his shoulders slump in disappointment. She didn't need him anymore. For a moment, he thought he was special - helping her make dinner and watching her sing and dance like he even deserved such a privilege -

She looked over her shoulder, a small quirk to her lips. "You'll help me tomorrow, won't you?"

She... still wanted him? He met her gaze, a mix of excitement and surprise brightening his features. "Yeah!" He cheered.

She grinned back at him, shutting her eyes. She had dimples when she smiled like that. "Izumi-sensei and Goro-chan's Cooking Adventures will return tomorrow at our scheduled broadcast time." She laughed again, and Loki realized that was the real music in the room, not whatever was coming from the radio. "How does that sound?"

He nodded, completely starstruck. "I love it."

After that, she returned to preparing the meal, leaving Loki to his thoughts. He enjoyed having a mother that cared for him. With Goro's negative memories of his mother and their shared experiences in abusive foster homes, Loki had nearly forgotten that mothers could be... nice. Mothers could run their fingers through his hair with a compliment, mothers could enlist his help with cooking dinner and ask him to help again and again. Mothers could do things besides yell and hit and watch him get hurt.

"'m going to the bathroom," he mumbled, hastily jumping to his feet and pushing in his chair. Loki missed whatever Izumi said, considering he was running towards the living room, up the stairs, and closing the door of the bathroom once he was inside.

He fell to his knees, pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes. He was smiling, despite the sobs wracking his body. Was this what it was like to be loved? Warm tears rolled past his hands and he hiccuped, trying to take in air through his giggles.

Goro finally seemed to stir. Wha...? Loki, what's wrong?

He continued to laugh, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands. "N-Nothing's... wrong," he managed past his sobs, "I'm - happy."

But... you're crying? Goro was confused, watching Loki cry, laugh, and come to the conclusion that he was happy, of all things.

Loki sniffled, leaning his back against the wooden bathroom door. "I didn't... I didn't know that..." He shut his eyes, tears still rolling down his cheeks, "Moms c-can love their sons."

Robin began to wake up as well, but he didn't say anything. Goro did his best to respond. Mom loved me, he stated plainly, as if it explained everything.

Loki shook his head, as if to say no. 'No Goro, your mother didn't always love you,' would be too harsh. 'You took all of your memories of her hating you and pushed them onto me,' might have been even worse. 'I never knew what a mother's love was like, so spending time with Izumi taught me that moms could care about their kids,' was probably the best response.

"I never... had... that..." he said weakly, catching his breath. He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his face into them, tugging his arms around his legs. "I didn't know... mom," he tucked his chin against his neck, curling further into himself. "I only knew our -" he took in a shaky breath, shoulders shuddering, "our foster mothers." And you know what they were like, was left unsaid.

Robin finally found his voice. So let's be glad we have Izumi now and forget about the other ones. He was always the moral compass, the voice of reason - the policing force of their thoughts. We having a loving mother now.

Goro seemed to hesitate, shame clouding his tone. I-I'm sorry, Loki. I thought...

"No," he interrupted, leaning back and pushing his legs away, "it isn't... it isn't your fault."

Loki reminded himself that his existence served two purposes: to fight back against those who hurt Goro, and to make sure Goro was happy. He had no right to make Goro feel bad to giving him these unpleasant memories, no matter how upset they could make Loki. He was to learn from them and keep them close to his heart, a burden he could shoulder so Goro and Robin never had to. He would indulge in his... cooking adventures with Izumi as long as she was willing to have him, but his other purposes would always come first.

Robin frowned, You... don't need to feel bad for spending time with Izumi. You know that, right?

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, wiping away the tear tracks running down his cheeks. He didn't feel bad about spending time with her, no. What he felt bad for was maybe... bonding with her without Goro and Robin. Their memories of a loving mother were from a few years ago. His were new, fresh in his mind. He could recount every detail, maybe even hum the song she had been singing while she danced and praised him for helping her cook dinner.

He nodded weakly, as if to say 'I know. Believe me, I know.'

Loki let the reigns go, allowing Goro control of the body. It was his turn to rest, and after the emotional roller coaster he went through, he needed the break.

Goro blinked past the aching feeling in his eyes, getting to his feet and reaching the bathroom sink to turn the faucet. He splashed water onto his face, rubbing his hands on his skin as if it would relieve the sensation.

He's just... Robin murmured, overwhelmed, I think.

Goro nodded, turning the water off. "It's a lot."

It was always a lot, to be honest. Moving homes had never been easy. Goro spent a lot of time in and out of consciousness, waking up with bruises he didn't remember getting and, sometimes, coming to in a completely new home and not recognizing his new parents. He found out later that it had been Robin coming into existence, and not too long later, Loki. He didn't... question it, really. Having two friends that understood him was an invaluable gift, even if they were... splintered-off versions of himself, if one were to really get into logistics.

Robin held his tongue about Loki's situation. Whenever Loki wanted to tell Goro, it was up to him - Robin had no right interfering with that. So for now, he would keep his mouth shut and let Loki come clean on his own. And besides, Goro only retaining happy memories of his mother was nothing to be upset about. If Loki's purposes were to fight back and keep Goro happy, then Robin's were to protect Goro and keep him just as happy.

We should probably go back downstairs, Robin hummed, goading Goro towards the door.

"Right," he nodded, taking languid steps and turning the knob. His body was growing tired, considering how late it was getting and everything that had happened so far. He'd eat dinner, meet his new sisters, and then go to bed.

Goro made his way down the stairs, keeping his hand on the wooden banister to steady himself. From the kitchen, Izumi glanced over to him at the sound of his footsteps.

"Oh good, I was starting to get worried," she began, pressing some buttons on the oven before striding towards the living room. "Here, let's watch some TV while the salmon cooks."

He shuffled over, taking a seat at the tatami parallel to the television. Childishly, he took the blanket of the kotatsu and pulled it over his legs and halfway up his torso. "Can we watch Featherman?"

Izumi found the TV remote and promptly began to search through the channel guide. "If it's on right now, of course we can."

He tightened his grip on the blanket, eyes glued to the TV. When Phoenix Ranger Featherman R was sprawled on a small box in the television guide, he pointed at it in glee. "There! It's on!"

Izumi couldn't help the smile that climbed onto her face as she changed the channel. Goro being excited over a television show was so much better than him crying in the back seat of their car. Watching him sing along to the theme song, cheer when the heroes beat up the bad guys, and shake in anticipation when it went to a commercial break was... a sight she was ecstatic to see, especially after how he acted back in the orphanage. He deserved so much better than what he got, and hopefully - hopefully her family could do their best to make up for lost time.

She blinked back the beginnings of tears. Goro was theirs now, and she would do everything in her power to keep him happy.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

"It's me," a young woman's voice said at the same time a little girl's voice exclaimed, "We're home!"

Izumi smiled and turned towards Goro, who stared at the door in anticipation. "Time to meet your sisters."

Chapter Text

Goro pulled the blanket closer to him, watching the door swing open. A young woman with long, ashen brown hair stepped in, leaning over to unlace her combat boots. A much younger girl with a short bob of chesnut brown hair ran past her, latching onto Izumi's leg with a happy squeal.

"Mommy!" The girl yelled, a bright smile stretching from ear to ear. Goro had never seen someone smile that largely. "Sae-neechan took me to see an action movie - it was so COOL!"

Izumi picked the girl up from under her arms, lifting her so that she could plant a kiss onto the crown of her head. "Your big sister is the best," she smiled towards Sae, who had finished taking off her boots and was reaching for something in her shoulder bag. "What was the movie like?"

The little girl beamed. "There were explosions and fighting and a sparky sparky boom man!"

"That sounds interesting," Izumi offered a smile, uncertain about how she felt about Makoto taking an interest in action movies at the ripe age of six. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart."

Goro averted his gaze to the kotatsu, clutching the blanket tighter. He knew that Jiro and Izumi had two daughters, but seeing the affection his new mother had for them firsthand was a new beast altogether. Just when he was feeling loved, he was reminded that he was an outsider once again.

A brown wrapper was slid in front of him on the table, thin fingers with manicured nails pushing it into his line of sight. He glanced up, watching Sae take a seat across from him at the tatami parallel to his own. "And who might you be?"

Goro glanced back down at the rectangular-shaped wrapper in front of him. If this was a gift for him, then she obviously knew he would be here. He realized that Sae had probably taken Makoto out for the movie to get her out of the house while Goro got situated. He wouldn't need to introduce himself as her new younger brother, but...

He looked up to her, meeting her eyes nervously. "My name is Goro." His fingers tightened around the blanket, "you knew I would be here, didn't you?"

She rolled her shoulders back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I knew my parents were adopting a son today," a small quirk to her lips and a slight tilt of her head, "but I wanted to meet you."

Blinking up at her owlishly, he started to fully take in her appearance. She had hair a similar color to Jiro's, and it was parted to the left side; the right side was held back with an intricately designed pin. Her eyes were a shade lighter than her father's, chocolate brown tinted in fiery determination. Her earrings dangled from her ears, silver glinting against the flashing light of the television at their side. In all honesty, she was the spitting image of her father.

"Well," he began, trying to buy time. What to say, what to say? Goro knew how to placate adults, but something about Sae intimidated him. He felt like he was being interrogated, if anything. "I'm six and my birthday is in June."

Sae's eyebrow raised slightly; if Goro's gaze hadn't been trained on her face, he would have missed it. "I meant more like your favorite color, TV shows. That kind of stuff."

That's what kids talk about, right? Robin murmured, just look at Makoto.

"Oh, r-right..." he blinked rapidly, his thoughts getting away from him. "I like red. And Featherman."

Her eyes flicked down to his hoodie, as if she were appraising the color choice. "I hope you like milk chocolate," she said, and Goro realized belatedly that she was referring to the rectangle in front of him. "You can eat it after dinner."

He nodded, and when she started talking again, his eyes met hers. "Feel free to call me whatever you want, Goro. I'll accept any variation of Sae, unless you want to call me 'Sis' or something similar."

Her voice had such a commanding nature to it; whenever she spoke, Goro felt obligated to listen, nod along, and obey without a second thought. "Sae-san, then."

Finally, she smiled. "Sae-san it is."

As soon as she stood up, Makoto ran over to her side. The young girl's big, ruby-red eyes stared at him. "Your hair is longer than mine!" She blurted out, pointing a finger at him.

Taking in her appearance, Goro realized she was right. Her hair curled around her ears, and her squarely-cut bangs ended right above her eyebrows.

"I wanted to cut mine, actually," he said quietly with the beginnings of a frown. His hair ended just at his shoulders, split ends sitting above his shoulder blades. He wasn't exactly afforded the luxury of getting a haircut whenever he wanted, but he wouldn't blame Makoto for that.

"Short-hair is better anyway!" She declared, taking a few steps forward so that she could lean in and stage-whisper to Goro. "I dunno why Nee-chan and Mommy like their hair long."

Sae sighed, her lithe fingers tightening slightly on her biceps. "Don't make me regret taking you to that movie."

Makoto looked up to Sae, a teasing smile on her face. "You don't mean that."

Goro realized that, yes, Sae didn't mean her threat at all. The woman rolled her eyes playfully, walking towards the stairs. "I'm going to wash up."

Makoto grinned. "Okay!"

Once Sae was up the stairs, Makoto sat cross-legged on the tatami on Goro's right at the end of the kotatsu closest to him. Her ruby eyes glimmered in curiosity. "I'm Makoto, but you can call me Mako-chan. What's your name?"

Makoto was a lot less subtle and way more upfront than her older sister had been. The girl in front of him was only a little bit older than him, and once again, Goro was reminded of how difficult talking to kids his age was.

"Goro, but you can call me whatever you want," he pulled his lips into a tight smile, tilting his head slightly. That usually worked to disarm adults, so hopefully his charm would work similarly here.

"Are you my new brother?" She asked innocently, her fingers crumpling up the ruffles of her short skirt. "Nee-chan said we had a new baby brother."

We're not that much younger, Robin huffed indignantly, but he didn't seem mad. Maybe a little flustered, if anything.

"We're the same age," he mumbled, nerves getting the best of him. "But yes, I'm your younger brother now."

He was used to this type of introduction at least. While his other adoptive sibling relationships didn't last long, he had quite a lot to draw experience on. Usually, his siblings would bully him, seeing him as just another mouth to feed; he was just taking attention away from them. Even when his siblings were nice, their parents weren't. Bonds were temporary, friendships were fleeting. Maybe he wouldn't be her brother for long.

Robin seemed to shake him out of those thoughts. The Niijima's are nice. I think we'll be here for a long time.

Goro bit back whatever he was going to say. He could hold out on that childish hope for right now.

"My birthday is April 23rd," Makoto seemed to bounce in excitement. "That's only -" she began to count on her fingers. "Five months away! When's yours, Goro-chan?"

He was caught off-guard by the nickname. Hey! Robin grumbled defensively, that's our nickname for you!

Goro couldn't suppress his smile at Robin's dilemma. "June 2nd, so you're not much older than me."

She placed her hands on her hips, attempting to mimic Sae's intimidating nature. "Well you should call me Mako-senpai then!"

Goro opened his mouth to rebut, but Makoto started giggling. "Just kidding! Mako-chan is fine."

"Right..."

For the first time in their conversation, Makoto glanced over at the TV. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Goro with surprise written all over her face. "You like Featherman?"

Finally, his expertise could come in handy! "I love Featherman!"

She dropped onto her hands, dragging herself closer to her new brother. "I love all the fighting and explosions!" Her eyes practically had stars in them. "Who's your favorite? Mine's Feather Swan!"

Feather Swan? Goro had to admit, she had good taste in Feather Rangers. But anybody with culture knew that - "Feather Hawk is the best," he crossed his arms defensively. "He's the leader and he's super cool. Feather Swan is cool too, but Red is the best."

Makoto frowned. "Nuh uh. Feather Swan is super cool. She's just as good as Red."

"Then why isn't she the leader?" Goro challenged, "Blue is a good member of the team but Red is obviously better."

Before they knew it, their argument grew heated. The two of them began yelling back and forth, arguing over which Feather Ranger was the "coolest". Goro began insisting that they rate all of the Rangers on scales based on coolness, strength, and intelligence, and Makoto was more than willing to offer her two cents.

"Yellow is definitely a four out of ten in smarts," Goro huffed. "He keeps doing dumb things and getting the team in trouble."

"He has a heart of gold though!" Makoto rebuked, looking undignified. "He would do anything for the team and you know it!"

"Hm," he hummed, putting a finger to his chin in thought. He tilted his head to the side with a smile. "That doesn't change how smart he is."

Jiro walked into the living room, a laundry basket full of folded clothes in his arms. "I'm glad to see you two getting along."

"Daddy!" Makoto jumped from her sitting position, running to her father's side and grabbing his leg. "Goro-chan thinks that Yellow is dumb!"

Jiro looked down at her, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. He glanced back at Goro. "Do I want to know?"

Goro crossed his arms across his chest, meeting his gaze. "We're debating over Featherman characters."

"And he's being mean to Feather Owl," she explained petulantly, tugging at her father's pant leg.

"Oh, so this isn't about colors," Jiro looked back and forth between the two of them. "Well, regardless, you can have different opinions. Just don't be mean to each other, okay?"

Pointing out how foolish Yellow could be sometimes wasn't being mean to Makoto, Goro thought to himself. It was just objective fact.

"It's just friendly debate, Jiro-san," he said, apologetic. Makoto, despite her earlier outburst, seemed to nod along with his statement. Good, she wasn't a complete child.

Jiro shifted the weight of the laundry basket, moving his arm down to ruffle Makoto's hair. "Keep it that way," he smiled, but there was a small threat underlying his words. Goro nodded as Makoto said, "We will!"

Their father left, walking up the stairs to fold the laundry in the basket. Once he was upstairs, Makoto turned back to Goro. "D'you wanna come play in my room?"

Robin was practically buzzing in excitement. That sounds like fun. I wonder what toys she has?

"Sure," Goro answered, getting to his feet. Makoto made a break for the stairs, and he found himself running behind her to catch up, laughing all the way.

When they entered the room, Goro was finally able to take it in. Compared to his initial glance in before his bath, the room was a little larger than he thought it would be. A futon lay on the floor next to the left wall, and a colorful blue and purple blanket stretched over it. By the pillow was a panda stuffed animal, small enough to be held. There was a scattering of toys across the floor, and Goro was overwhelmed by all of the colors and shapes.

"I have a police officer set, look!" Makoto brandished a plastic badge in front of Goro's face, and before he realized, she was closing something around his wrists. "You're under arrest for calling Feather Owl dumb!"

Goro met her gaze, looked down at the plastic handcuffs hooking his wrists together, and then back up. "I don't think that's-"

She clipped the badge to her shirt and put her hands on her hips. "In the name of the law, I will punish you!"

"I-" Goro was cut off as Makoto began to nudge him towards her futon. She had him sit down, keep his feet within the perimeter of the blanket, and put his back to the wall.

Before he could say anything, Makoto yelped, jumping from foot to foot. "Ow ow ow! The floor is lava!" She dove onto the futon, landing with a bounce next to Goro. He watched her warily, afraid of what game she might come up with next.

"But the floor isn't lava...?" He asked, his voice lilting into a question. The plastic rings around his wrists were beginning to unhook themselves. "Can I take these off now?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're no fun." Nevertheless, she uncuffed him and put the toy onto her futon. "What games do you want to play?"

Goro leaned back, gaze rolling over the scattered toys on the floor. He had never really had toys of his own, looking back on it. His mother could never really afford toys for him, and he certainly wasn't given any in the last two years.

"I..." he looked down, a frown pulling at his lips, "I don't know any games."

"Hm," Makoto tilted her head, her hair falling around her face. "How about we play cops and robbers?"

He blinked up at her as she got to her feet and began to pick up the toys around the room. "What's that?"

"I'm the cop," she said, her back to him. "And you're the robber."

Um...

"That... didn't explain it at all," he mumbled to himself, sharing Robin's sentiment.

When she turned around, her arms were full of toys. "You take these," she walked over and dropped the variety of toys in her arms into Goro's lap, "and I have to chase you around and try to catch you!"

He eyed the colorful array in his lap, picking out stuffed animals, action figures, and other plastic replicas among the pile. "How am I supposed to carry all of this and run?"

She reached over to the space next to him, grabbing the handcuffs. "You better find out fast." She had a devious grin on her face.

Ah. Robin began. I think... we should run.

Goro jumped to his feet, keeping the possessions close to his chest, and began to run. Makoto promptly chased him, the two of them running laps around her room. Makoto would corner Goro, and then he would manage to sneak past her and start running again.

"Gotcha!" She yelled, jumping towards Goro. She tackled him to the ground, toys flying in all directions on impact. The two of them lay half-tangled up, gasping for breath and laughing uncontrollably.

"That was... fun," he made out between gasps, laying on his back. Makoto was laying on her stomach by his side, her arm across his chest and her leg draped over one of his.

"I'm happy to have a brother," she said, voice breathy. "Nee-chan is nice but she's... so much older." She pouted, "and not fun."

"I'm..."

Happy to have a sister? Kind of proud to be "more fun" than Sae? Sad that he never had fun like this before?

Goro let out a heavy exhale, allowing a genuine smile to form on his face. "Looking forward to being your brother, Mako-chan."

She grinned up at him, swiping the last toy that sat on his chest. It was a black stuffed animal, and it was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. "I think you've earned this."

Goro reached forward, taking the stuffed animal into his hands. It had a completely black body, wings, a silver beak, and gray feet. Beady black eyes stared back at him. "A bird?"

"You dummy!" Makoto giggled, taking a wingtip in either hand and lifting it up and down as if the stuffed animal was flying. "It's a crow!"

Goro couldn't help but think of all of the toys he had been holding during their game. Why would Makoto choose to give him a bird stuffed animal over any of her other toys? "Why are you giving me this one?"

She looked at him with a pout. "Crows are smart birds," she explained, "I thought you would like it."

Moving it around and inspecting it, Goro realized that, yeah, he actually liked the stuffed animal a lot. The body was fuzy, and it would reform in his fingers whenever he would squeeze it. "I love it."

Our first ever toy! Robin cheered, and Goro naturally smiled back at Makoto. It kind of reminds me of Loki.

Goro squeezed the crow again, furrowing his brow slightly. He and Robin hadn't heard from Loki since they had been in the bathroom. Hopefully he was just sleeping.

"Mako-chan, here's your laundry," Jiro said, and Goro's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't even noticed Jiro entering the room. Unconsciously, his grip tightened on the bird in his hands. "I'm pretty sure dinner is ready, so you two should head down now."

"Okay!" Makoto said, taking her laundry from her father and placing it onto the futon. She put her hand on Goro's arm, meeting his gaze. "Let's go, Goro-chan!"

"Let me put this in my room first," he raised his hands, the crow's head poking out from above his fingers. "I'll be down in a minute."

Makoto pouted, but she nodded her head. "Okay, but you better be downstairs soon."

They left her room, and while Makoto hurried down the hallway to take the stairs, Goro entered his room. He took a seat on his futon and held the crow close to his chest. "Loki, you should get up," he whispered, closing his eyes to try and get a feel for where the other boy was. "We're having dinner with everyone and you still haven't met Mako-chan and Sae-san..."

Robin hummed to himself. He's waking up, so that's good.

Goro found himself smiling as he heard Loki grumble something. I wish you let me sleep a little longer...

He leaned over, placing the crow's body under the blanket, as if it were sleeping. "I'm tired too, but we need to eat dinner with everyone." He got to his feet, rubbing at his eyes with his fists. "I want you to be there for it, Loki. We can sleep later, alright?"

After a moment, Loki let out a heavy sigh. You're right, but that doesn't make me any less tired.

As Goro began to leave his bedroom and make his way through the hallway, Robin laughed. Well, someone's back to normal.

The boy smiled to himself, walking down the steps and putting a hand lightly on the banister as he headed down. Looking down from his vantage point on the stairs, he could see the Niijima's sitting around the kotatsu, bowls in front of them and chopsticks in hand. He got down to the landing, and by the time he entered the living room, he had four pairs of eyes on him.

"There's the man of the hour!" Jiro beamed, gesturing towards him with his pair of chopsticks. Makoto cheered along with him, yelling out an affirmative, "Yeah!"

Goro smiled sheepishly, overwhelmed by the warmth in his chest. Izumi watched him as if he was a baby taking his first steps, and Sae regarded him with a nod that was kind in her own, detached way. Realizing that he was still just standing there, he made it the rest of the way to the kotatsu, taking a seat next to Makoto. Sae sat across from the two of them, while Jiro sat at the end of the table to Goro's left and Izumi sat at the end to Makoto's right.

Looking down, he examined the bowl in front of him. Rice filled the bottom of the bowl, and an orangey-pink sauce dripped down on top of a pale piece of salmon. Distantly, he could feel a sense of pride and happiness.

I helped make this, Loki boasted, and Goro could practically see the boy's grin. I hope it tastes good.

Goro glanced around the table, noticing that nobody had started on their meal. "Did you all wait for me...?"

Makoto bounced in her seat next to him. "Of course we did, you big dummy!"

"It hasn't even been a day and you're already insulting him," Sae huffed, but Goro could see her neutral expression faltering. She seemed amused, if anything.

Izumi clasped her hands together, a glint in her crimson eyes. "I'm just glad Goro is getting along with everyone," she met his gaze with a kind smile. "It would be awful of us to begin eating our celebratory meal without our guest of honor, so of course we waited."

"Let's do the prayer, now that we're all here," Jiro said, reaching over to place his hand on Goro's shoulder and give a small squeeze. "Thank you, God, for this meal - and for bringing Goro into our lives."

As the whole table echoed with let's eat!'s and amen's, Goro found himself frozen in place. His heart skipped a beat, two. With his vision blurring with tears, he nodded fervently and took his chopsticks in his hand.

Taking the first bite of rice, salmon, and the sauce covering it all, Goro closed his eyes to savor the taste. Loki thrummed with pride, knowing that he helped to make such a dish. The tenderness of the fish, the creaminess of the sauce, and the softness of the rice was heavenly. Goro chewed slowly and made sure to savor each bite.

This is the best we've eaten in years! Robin exclaimed, and Goro continued eating with a smile on his face.

And to think, we can eat like this every day from now on... Loki trailed off, imagining his future cooking adventures with Izumi.

Goro was content to eating and just listening to the conversation around him. Jiro recounted his shopping escapades with Goro to the rest of his family, and Makoto found the idea of her dad clothes shopping beyond hilarious. Sae couldn't get over her father telling Goro that they would, and she quoted, "pick out some cool threads for the coolest kid on this side of Tokyo". Izumi laughed along, admitting that sending the boys together gave her the freedom to food shop.

"So Goro," Jiro began, snapping the boy out of his thoughts, "how are you feeling so far?" He blinked, realizing he should clarify. "About today, I mean."

Goro felt... a lot of things about what happened today. There was his initial distrust of Jiro and Izumi, just like any other foster parents. They had adopted him, despite admitting that he was a cursed child. Jiro had walked him through the store, spending time to help him pick out clothes and talking to him all the while, and they had bought him more clothes than he had owned in his entire lifetime. They had given him a place to stay, the freedom to bathe, his own bedroom, the opportunity to watch his favorite TV show, a warm dinner...

He felt like he was at home with his family.

He smiled - a genuine, natural smile - at Jiro. "Happy."

Goro didn't know if he could put his true feelings into words. He felt more than happy, but saying all of it out loud was... difficult. He had spent years bottling up his emotions, keeping everything close to his chest, and putting on an act for all of the adults in his life. Saccharine words, disarming smiles; everything he did was for the smallest amounts of attention and love - and to avoid a beating. Admitting his genuine feelings was scary. If a foster parent rejected the him he showed them, the act he put on, that wasn't the real him. Admitting that he felt at home, admitting that the Niijima's felt like a family to him... if they were to reject him, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

He could feel Robin and Loki doing their best to comfort him, and he raised his hands to wipe away his tears. He thought back to Loki, crying in the bathroom and saying that he was happy. Smiling through his tears, Goro came to the realization that yes, one could cry and honestly, truly be happy.

The events after dinner were slightly blurry to Goro. He could remember Makoto collecting everybody's bowls and chopsticks, and the distant voice of Izumi telling him that it had been a long day and he should probably head to bed. Sae must have handed him his forgotten chocolate bar because he had it in his hands as he sluggishly trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He placed the candy bar on the top of his dresser and opened the top right drawer. Goro took the Featherman pajamas in his left hand, fingers moving to feel the softness of the fabric. In his half-awake state, he changed out of his clothes and into the pajamas. In his sleepiness, he was tempted to leave his clothes in a ball to be dealt with in the morning, but he decided that he didn't want the Niijima's to think he was ungrateful for his new belongings. With slow, sluggish movements, he folded his clothes to his best ability and put them back into the drawers.

Goro leaned over, lifting up the blanket so that he could slip underneath it. When he pulled the comforter over his body, something hit his shoulder. Basking in the pale moonlight shining in from the window, the crow stuffed animal stood out again the pale colors of his futon.

That's the cutest thing I've ever seen, Loki breathed, and Goro allowed his arms to reach forward and pull the stuffed animal to his chest. It reminds me of... me.

Robin chuckled at that. I told you so.

Goro let the two converse, hearing it as white noise as his consciousness was slipping. He was nice and warm under the comforter, and the crow clutched against his chest gave him a feeling of safety. For the first time in years, he felt like he could sleep and not be afraid.

Melting into the comfort of his new futon, he couldn't help but feel like this was a new chapter of his life. He, Robin, and Loki could finally be happy.

For the first time in his life, Niijima Goro fell asleep.

Chapter Text

He stared at the body, placid and unmoving. The water was murky, red wisps like smoke swirling in the mix. An old razor blade floated helplessly among the ripples and changed directions upon hitting the edges of the bathtub. Uneven, shaky cuts littered the wrist, crimson trickling down onto the ivory of the tub. Crimson like her eyes-

Goro's knees buckled beneath him, collapsing to the tiled floor in a heap. He pulled himself closer to the body, the friction of the tiles against his skin sure to leave burns. His hands were shaking as he took the pale arm in front of him, pulling it towards his chest like it was made of glass that would shatter at the first harsh touch, and he gripped onto it like a lifeline. There was no pulse emanating from the wrist, only a cold touch hidden under pallor skin.

When the red-tinted water began to lap against his legs, he distantly realized that the faucet had been on this entire time. The water spewing out of the tub rang in his ears, piercing the eerie calm of the room. Shakily, he reached forward to turn the tap, the back of his hand brushing against honey brown hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled wanting to grow his hair out to match his mother's long braid. His hair ended in a scruffy mess above his ears, his mother chiding him for looking too feminine with long locks. He had cried the day she cut it.

The longer he held the pale arm, the more blood dripped from the wrist and onto him. His gray shirt had spots of discoloration, red seeping into the fabric and spreading into blotches. He delicately moved the slim fingers to curl around his own hand, but the warmth had faded completely at this point. He clutched it close to his chest, pressed up against his rapidly-beating heart, and willed life to return to it. He waited for the arm to shake him, chide him for acting like a child, and guide him back to the living room to play. He waited and he waited and he waited, and the arm never moved.

His vision was beginning to blur. His head felt fuzzy, his thoughts becoming abstract and out of his grasp. His body felt like it was miles away, far, far away from the corpse in front of him. The scene before his eyes began to change, and with a blink-

Goro was curled up outside of the bathroom, back pressed against the wall. His knees were pulled close to his chest and his arms were draped protectively over his head. The landline phone lay innocently next to his foot, spiral cord stretched past his head to meet the base attached to the wall above him. The end call tone buzzed nigh inaudibly, but in the deathly silence of the small apartment, it might as well have rang out like a siren.

He stared at the phone, expecting it to move on its own. After an interminable amount of time and a staring contest with the landline, Goro reached forward. His fingers snaked around the handle of the phone and gripped it weakly. Slowly, he rose to his feet and placed the phone back onto the wall, the receiver clicking into place. He let out a shuddering breath, his chest feeling tight.

In the sudden onset of calm, he had almost forgotten what lay inside the bathroom. His breath caught in his throat, eyes watering instantly. Despite the panic rising in his chest, his movements were languid. His legs fought against him and he found himself on his hands and knees, dragging himself back into the bathroom and to the tub.

"Mommy," his voice cracked, warm tears rolling down his face. Her body was paler now, and the blood on her wrist had dried to an awful brown. A pungent smell filled the air but Goro ignored it. His mother needed him and he couldn't leave her here by herself! "Mommy, wake up. Please!"

Sometimes Goro's mother would send him out at night. Tell him to grab a toy and head to the bathhouses and come back when she was done with work. (It was a miracle an unattended four- going on five year old didn't get kidnapped during this routine. None of the adults at the baths seemed to notice him, or maybe they just ignored the abandoned child.) Some nights when he would return home, his mother would be asleep. No matter how much he shook her, she wouldn't stir. Usually she would have a bottle in her hand and be wearing a revealing outfit.

His mother lay in the bathtub, eyes shut. There was never blood on those nights. Now, she held no bottle and wore normal clothes. Red swirled and swirled in the water around her, moving through the water like a shark. For the first time, he noticed silver glinting beneath the water. Lightly held in his mother's right hand was a knife, and Goro's eyes seemed to zero in on the hole in his mother's stomach. Blood snaked upwards from her chest, spreading out into the bath water. The razor blade continued to float above the water, bouncing off the edges of the bathtub over and over and over.

There was banging on the front door. Goro pulled his mother's arm close to his chest. He would never let go. He couldn't leave his mother alone!

Hearing the sound of the door swinging open and footsteps approaching from the living room, Goro's heartbeat began to race. People were here and they were going to take his mother away. The world around him began to spin as he started to hyperventilate. He clutched his mother's arm protectively, tight enough to crush the bone beneath cold skin.

Goro felt like he was underwater. Men and women in uniforms rushed into the bathroom, somehow fitting in the small space. Their mouths were moving but no sound seemed to process in his mind. His only thoughts were that they were going to take his mom away. He held onto her arm for dear life, pulling away from the police tapping his shoulder. They were going to take his mom away. He squeezed his eyes shut, heart beating out of his chest. They were going to take his mom away, they were going to take his mom away, they were going to take his mom away-

He was pulled away from his mother and the world seemed to come into focus. There was a man in front of him, hands firmly on the boy's shoulders to hold him in place. The man's mouth was moving and Goro had to strain his ears to focus on the noise.

"-na need you to take deep breaths, okay?" The officer was saying, knelt in front of the boy. "Follow me, just like this..."

Goro took a breath, hiccuping on the air. He choked and the officer held him in place, rubbing circles into his shoulders and offering him a reassuring phrase that his ears didn't catch. It took what felt like an hour, but Goro slowly regulated his breathing, heart stubbornly continuing to hammer in his chest. His entire body was shaking and his shirt was drenched in a mix of water, blood, and his own sweat. It felt like every fiber in his being was trembling, unable to hold still after the adrenaline ran its course.

"Let's sit outside," the officer said, but Goro knew he had no say in it. Shakily, he got to his feet and allowed the man to take his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away from the bathtub. He didn't want to see anymore. The adrenaline had faded and he felt completely out of energy after his breakdown.

He sat with the officer on a tatami mat in the living room, but Goro felt like he wasn't really present for any of it. His body seemed to move on his own, as if going through the motions. No sound reached his ears and every sight seemed to be fuzzy. He would blink and minutes had passed by in a split second.

He didn't remember much after that. One minute, he was in the living room of his apartment, and the next he was in the back of a car. Then he was in a strange building, and then somewhere along the way he ended up in the orphanage. His memory was spotty at best and he felt detached from the entire experience.

Nearly two years were spent in that state. Between the orphanage and the foster homes, Goro felt as if he blinked and a week had passed. An especially long blink resulted in an entire month being lost. He would wake up and have no idea where he was or how he got there. He figured he should be terrified, knowing that he could close his eyes and wake up months later, but he found that he didn't mind. When he was awake, he was at the mercy of rotten adults when he was adopted and bullied by other orphans when he wasn't. Being able to escape from it all was a blessing.

One warm summer night after he had turned six, he lay awake on his thin blanket - his foster parents' lousy excuse for a bed - and listened to the wind howl outside. The window was broken, unable to close properly, and the whistling of the wind would keep him up. He found himself reaching for the small dictionary above his head, holding it in front of him. It was straining his eyes to attempt to read the words in the dark, but he had no other choice. If he turned on the light, his guardians would start yelling at him. At random, he picked a word to dedicate himself to learning.

an-tith-e-sis

noun

a person or thing that is the direct opposite of someone or something else. a contrast or opposition between two things.

"An... tith... e... sis," he mumbled to himself, testing the word on his tongue. It was something that was the complete opposite as something else. "So... like a hero and a villain?"

He turned his body to the side, pressing his ear and shoulder into the blanket. Superheroes were good. They fought against the bad guys and saved the day. Villains were evil and they did bad things. That meant that heroes were the antithesis of villains. He nodded to himself with a smile. He could remember that word. It would surely impress an adult one day.

Just as he was about to search for another word, his eyelids were falling shut. The dictionary plopped to the ground, his fingers still embedded in the pages.

When he opened his eyes, darkness sprawled in the vast area around him. He blinked and nothing changed. Had he gone blind? He turned his head side to side but he still couldn't make anything out in the dark.

Suddenly, the world brightened in a flash. Goro raised his arm to shield his eyes from the light, squinting against the spontaneous change. Sure, he had wanted to see what was around him, but it was too bright. As if obeying his wishes, the light dimmed to a bearable level and he lowered his arm.

Replacing the plain white field, the area around him was his apartment's living room. It had been almost a year and a half since he lived there with his mother. Despite living in the orphanages and countless foster homes, nothing felt like home compared to his old apartment. He didn't think anything would ever feel like home without his mother there.

"Hey, anyone in there?" A voice spoke beside him.

Goro jumped back in his sitting position in fright, falling onto his back. He hadn't even heard footsteps! He rubbed the back of his head to alleviate the dull ache that rang out at the base of his skull. That was going to hurt later.

"Goro? You can hear me, right?" The voice was coming from above him, now that he was laying on the ground.

When he finally looked up and focused his garnet eyes on the person in front of him, his heart did a stutter stop.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The boy that looked exactly like him asked, tilting his head slightly to convey his confusion. His bright golden eyes gleamed with concern as he brandished a hand for Goro to take.

"You're... me!" Goro finally found his voice. He took the hand of his double and got to his feet. He looked the other him over, beginning to notice the differences between them. The other boy had bright golden eyes and his honey brown hair was long enough to be tied behind him in a short ponytail. He had a golden crownlet that was half-hidden under his bangs, decorated with small wings that sat above either ear. He wore what looked like a white and red prince's outfit, golden embellishments adorning the ensemble. If Goro were to envision a hero fighting against evil, it would be this other boy.

The pleasant-looking boy chuckled, using his hand to cover his mouth. "My name is Robin Hood, but you can just call me Robin."

Robin smiled, reaching out his left hand. He was also left handed, but Goro didn't find it surprising, considering that the prince shared his face. He took Robin's hand and shook it as a greeting.

"You were calling me Goro, so I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that," he said sheepishly. He pulled his hand away, missing the warmth of the touch right after. "Um... why do you look like me?"

Robin put his gloved fingers to his chin like he was a detective pondering over a case. "The easiest way to put it is that I'm you." He winked, a devious smile tugging at his lips. "But I know you wouldn't be satisfied with that answer."

Goro averted his eyes. Robin was right - Goro couldn't accept that explanation and end the conversation there. "I'm not. Do you want me to figure out the real reason? I have a feeling you're not going to tell me."

The prince shut both eyes and gave a warm smile. "You would be correct with that deduction."

Robin's eyes blinked open, and he turned his head towards the hallway. It was as if he heard a sound that Goro had missed. "I think someone else wants to meet you."

Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Someone... else?" Were there more duplicates of him waltzing around his old apartment? The thought was unsettling.

Robin seemed to catch the shift in the other boy's mood. He reached forward and gently grabbed Goro's hand. "You don't have to be afraid. He won't hurt you."

Goro allowed himself to be lead by his double, taking tentative steps out of the living room and into the hallway. When they passed the bathroom, they both seemed to avert their eyes and continue to look forward.

They stopped in front of Goro's old bedroom. The door was shut, allowing the two boys to see the pictures pinned against the wood. Numerous papers filled with crayon drawings stared back at them, and neither needed an explanation for who the artist was. One drawing caught Goro's eye: a boy dressed in white with a glowing sword standing before a villain (if the red devil horns were anything to go by). He glanced over at the boy next to him once again.

Before any conversation could pass, Robin turned the knob and gently pressed the door open. Sitting on Goro's old futon was... another boy with golden eyes sharing his face. This one had shorter brown hair than Goro or Robin, but his bangs still framed around his cheekbones. Thin, black and white horns sprouted from his forehead. He wore a black and blue striped outfit with a black hood hanging loosely on the crown of his head. A black cape on his shoulders seemed to flicker in and out of existence at the ends, and there were red and black braids beginning at the base of his shoulders and trailing past his shoulder blades. He had been tapping his black gloved fingers against his leg out of boredom.

"Took you long enough, Robin," the boy jabbed, but the playful tone he injected into his voice convinced Goro that he was only teasing. "Ah, here's the man of the hour. Glad to finally meet you, Goro."

Goro felt warmth echo in his chest. It sounded stupid to admit that the attention and kind words warmed him to his core, especially considering it was a copy of himself saying it. Was that narcissistic? Frankly, he couldn't tell. "Everyone already knows me, don't they?"

Robin smiled, leading him onto the futon. "It's only us two, but yes."

The other boy pulled his hood down, letting it fall and rest against his shoulder blades. "I'm Loki, by the way. Cool name, right?"

Goro found himself nodding. Loki was certainly a cool name. He also liked how the boy's black and blue outfit looked. It didn't look antagonistic, it seemed more like... an anti-hero's garb. Too dark to be a hero, but not evil enough to become a villain. It made Loki look like a mysterious trickster compared to how Robin's outfit made him look like a prince. Goro envied both outfits.

Piecing his thoughts together, Goro fidgeted with his hands. "So you're both parts of me, right? Parts of me that splintered away and broke off and became their own things?" That was the only explanation he could come to. They both shared his face, and the fact that Goro could recognize the other boys as people he would like to be...

"I knew I got my intelligence from somewhere," Loki smirked. "But yes, that's pretty much the gist of it."

Robin, more openly affectionate than the other two combined, took Goro's hands into his own. "You've gone through some really bad things. Sometime during them, your brain decided that you weren't the one experiencing them and well," he sighed, a sad smile reaching his eyes, "that's how me and Loki were born."

Goro's hands shook in Robin's grasp. "So my brain created two other selves... and I burdened all of my pain on both of you?" He felt tears begin to prickle in his eyes, threatening to fall if he continued to speak. He couldn't even deal with his own problems! He decided to split himself into three different selves to shove his pain onto anybody but him!

Without realizing it, Loki had made his way to kneel in front of Goro, putting his hands on the boy's shaking shoulders. "Don't think about it like that. We're here to protect you."

"We want to make sure you're happy, Goro-chan," Robin started to rub circles into the backs of Goro's hands, hoping to convey his feelings. "Luckily, our happiness coincides with your own, but that isn't why we're doing it."

Loki glanced towards Robin, golden eyes shining. "Goro-chan. I like that nickname." He turned back toward Goro, meeting the boy's red-brown eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "Goro-chan, you stop that right now. I'm not letting you cry during our first ever meeting."

Goro choked on a laugh. "M-Maybe these are happy tears."

"Please," Loki huffed. "You were about to have a breakdown."

"You can't lie to us like you do to everyone else," Robin said in a way that belied his squeaky voice. "We're you."

"I am thou and thou art I," Goro sniffled, blinking the tears away. "... Or something like that."

Robin gave Goro's hands one last squeeze. "I think it's time to wake up. We don't want you oversleeping now."

Goro blinked up at the two, a frown crawling onto his features. "Will I get to see you guys again?"

Loki laughed at that, flicking Goro's forehead with his gloved fingers. "Well, duh. Now that we've officially met, we can talk to you outside of dreams. You'll never be alone again."

The frown faded, hope swelling in his chest. "Never be alone again, huh."

"Once you realize how talkative Loki can be, you'll wish you couldn't hear us."

Robin smiled politely as Loki glared daggers at him. Goro laughed at the display, shoulders shaking with mirth. Thesis and antithesis, it seemed.

In a blink, Goro woke up to sunlight streaming in from the broken window. His fingers were still intertwined with the book and his shoulder ached from pressing his weight into it. He pulled his fingers out and made sure to place the dictionary under the blanket that served as a futon. He didn't want it being confiscated before he could learn more new words.

He sat up and stretched with a yawn. For the first time since moving in with this new family, Goro felt as though he had slept through the entire night. This was the most well-rested he felt since before his time as an orphan.

You're welcome for that.

Goro squeaked in response, flinching at the sudden voice. The voice seemed to laugh, but there was no malice embedded in it.

You're going to need to get used to us talking, the voice he recognized as Robin's explained. Despite them all sharing the same voice, Goro somehow knew that it was the prince.

He shook his head, half to rid him of sleep and half to shake his wariness. "Well, thanks for the warning."

He felt Loki give the mental equivalent of a shrug. I think having a soundboard of two at all times will be helpful.

No more bad decisions from here. Robin gave his princely smile. It would be quite difficult when you have two voices of reason serving as your conscience.

"No more bad decisions from here..." Goro put his fingers to his chin, similar to how Robin had back in his dream. "No promises, but I'll try my best."

Robin hummed in approval. And that's all we can ask.

Goro got to his feet, making his way over to the door. His hand hovered over the doorknob. His current family acted nice around neighbors, but as soon as he was home alone with them, his new parents seemed to flip. If he so much as said something out of turn, he would find himself sporting new bruises and a threat to hide them under ragged clothing. Fear caught in his throat.

"You both said you could protect me, right?" He asked tentatively, holding out in his childish hope. "If something bad happens, you'll... you'll be there for me, right?"

Without a single beat of hesitation, Robin and Loki nodded. Of course, Goro-chan.

"T-Thank you," he smiled, turning the doorknob and stepping into the hallway. He could survive whatever was thrown his way, knowing that, for the first time in a long while, he was not alone.

Chapter Text

Goro opened his eyes, long brown locks obscuring most of his vision. He shook his head slightly, still half-awake, but was able to clear up his field of view well enough to see. He rolled onto his back, blearily staring up at the ceiling.

Reaching back into his mind, there was no immediate sight of Robin or Loki. They were probably still sleeping. Distantly, he remembered them conversing with each other while Goro drifted off. They must have stayed up later than him, if that were the case.

When he sat up, his heart seized in his chest. He glanced back and forth around the unfamiliar room, adrenaline seeping into his veins. Where was he, did he do it again, what-

His fingers tightened on something, and in his panic, he finally looked down. The stuffed crow's beady eyes stared back at him as if to say what are you freaking out about? Goro shook his head, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was adopted by a new family yesterday and this was his new room. There was no need to panic. He was safe.

He noticed that there was no clock in his room, but from the sunlight filtering in through the blinds and curtain, it was easy to deduce that it was morning. Hopefully not too early to get up and start the day, he thought to himself as he stood up. He left the crow on his futon and tucked it back in under the covers, smiling as its beak poked out from the comforter.

As Goro walked to his door, he realized just how warm and cozy his futon had been. Around the edges of the ground were small vents blowing out heat, but goosebumps still trailed up his skin. To be fair, he was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and thin pajama pants, so maybe it was his own fault. The Featherman pajamas were worth the chill, though. He'd been colder.

He made his way to the bathroom, relieving himself and washing his hands. His gaze found his reflection and he frowned, eyes trailing down the length of his hair. If he was only thinking about cutting it before, he definitely wanted to cut it now. His bangs were constantly getting into his eyes, and he was sure his mop was weighing his head down. If it ended around his ears like Makoto's, that would be much more liberating.

He would bring it up again sometime later. Getting a haircut wasn't the most important thing in the world, but it was certainly high on Goro's to-do list. He had already leeched the Niijima's charity in the small time that he knew them, so it felt wrong to ask for something again so soon.

Goro exited the bathroom, dragging socked feet down the hallway and stairs. The living room TV was on with some news broadcast on it, and he heard noise originating from the kitchen. Piquing his curiosity, he took quiet steps through the living room and poked his head into the kitchen. Izumi was at the stove frying something that he couldn't see and Makoto was seated at the small table, kicking her legs. The radio was on the countertop, the tinny sound of an energetic pop tune filling the room.

Izumi, swaying with the beat, accidentally met his gaze during a flourishing spin. A sheepish grin broke out over her face and Goro found himself infected by that same energy. "Good morning, Goro," she sing-songed to the melody on the radio, returning her eyes to the stove. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Uh..." He was never really offered a choice in his food before. He ate whatever he was given, or whatever he was able to steal. He never had the choice to be picky, so any egg would be fine. "I don't have a preference... whatever's easiest?"

Makoto bounced in her seat, "Try it scrambled, that's what I like!"

He blinked at her, admiring her energy. He looked back towards Izumi. "Scrambled, please."

"Goro-chan," Makoto called, catching his attention, "come sit with me!"

He looked towards Izumi for permission but she was already back to dancing along to the song and cracking another egg. Oh well. He was looking forward to spending more time with Makoto anyways.

As he took the seat next to Makoto, she placed her hands on her knees and met his gaze. "How did you sleep?"

She seemed genuinely curious with him. To be fair, she had never had a brother before, so it made sense. And like Makoto had said yesterday, Sae-san was so much older than the two of them - so that left Goro to be the closest in age to her. It didn't help that he was the newest attraction in the Niijima household - everyone's attention was on him and would be on him for the near future.

Deep down, Goro liked the attention. He was used to making himself scarce - shrinking into himself to become smaller, less desirable as a target. Now, people were willing to look at him as something besides a disposable piece of garbage, passed around between orphanage to foster home and back again like a game of hot potato. He felt like a wilted flower, finally peeking out at the first rays of sunshine.

"Good," he answered with a small nod. His new futon had been leagues better than his previous sleeping arrangements, and he felt as if he had slept better in that one night than he had in his entire life. Remembering his manners, he asked, "how about you?"

The girl giggled and Goro could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. "Good as always, but last night was your first night here, Goro-chan." She pouted, but with her chubby cheeks, it wasn't intimidating at all. "Did Mr. Crow keep you safe?"

Goro thought back to clutching the stuffed animal to his chest before he fell asleep and how it grounded him the following morning in his initial panic. He intertwined his fingers on his lap, hands itching for something to hold onto. "Yeah. He kept the nightmares away."

Well. While Goro didn't think Mr. Crow was the sole reason for keeping the nightmares at bay, the stuffed animal certainly was comforting. Even now, he wished he brought it with him to the kitchen instead of leaving it on his futon. It was childish but... he was allowed to be a child every once in a while, wasn't he?

Goro and Makoto's conversation was cut short as two plates were placed in front of them, ceramic clinking against the table. Izumi slid two pairs of chopsticks next to the plates as she said, "Scrambled eggs and rice."

He blinked at the plate in front of him for a few moments. Izumi had cooked this - for him. She wasn't obliged to. None of the things the Niijima's did for him were necessary. They could have ignored him, had him fight for the barest scraps of food.

Makoto poked him with the ends of her chopsticks. "Have you ever eaten eggs and rice before?"

Doing his best to recollect, Goro could only recall having such a meal with his mother. It felt like a lifetime ago. He reached forward to take his chopsticks in his left hand. "A long time ago," he admitted, "I... don't remember what it tastes like."

The girl grinned at him. "Let's dig in then!" She pressed her hands together with an overly loud itadakimasu! and Goro scrambled to do the same.

As they ate, Goro could feel eyes on him. Looking in the periphery of his vision, he could see Makoto happily scarfing down her meal. That meant...

"You're left-handed," Izumi remarked, and Goro paused in his gathering of rice.

Goro was left-handed, and his mother had said nothing about it in particular. However, one of his foster families chided him, saying something about how it made him even more peculiar. That foster mother had forced a pencil into his right hand and spent every night for about a week teaching him how to write with his non-dominant hand. While he didn't appreciate the awful feeling at first, writing with his right hand began feeling more natural. That was one of his few relatively pleasant memories - there had been scolding, but it was like how a teacher would correct a student.

"Yes, but I can use both to write," he said, feeling a blush spreading across his face. He hoped it didn't sound like he was bragging - he was just telling the truth.

"Ambidextrous," she breathed with a small smile, "what a talented young man you are, Goro."

Goro ducked his head, warmth heating up his face. Praise and kind words would be the end of him. Happiness and pride bubbled in his chest, and he dared to allow a smile. "... Thank you."

The rest of the meal went by in relative silence. Goro savored every bite of his breakfast, and every few minutes, he would reach back inside himself to search for Loki and Robin, but the other boys seemed to still be asleep. Goro would make fun of them later for sleeping through their first real breakfast.

Looking up from his plate as he finished, he noticed Makoto hopping off her seat and to her feet. "I don't wanna go to school today," she grumbled to her mother, "I wanna stay home and play with Goro-chan."

Izumi chanced a glance in his direction before looking back to her daughter. "Goro will be here when you get home, honey. You know school is important."

For the first time that morning, Goro seemed to realize that half of the Niijima's were missing. "Where are Jiro-san and Sae-san? Why didn't they eat with us?"

"Jiji always has to go to work early in the morning," Izumi answered, "and Sae goes to Shujin Academy. Senior high school starts way before grade school does."

Makoto turned to him, hands on her hips. "Usually it's just me and Mommy when we eat breakfast."

In that moment, Goro fought back a frown and kept his face neutral. He... had ruined that, hadn't he? Izumi and Makoto had a special time together and he came in and tarnished it.

"But I've always wanted a brother to share that time with!" Makoto finished, looking positively delighted - as if his presence could be desirable.

Makoto couldn't just be making that up, right? She actually wanted him around. Someone to sit together and share meals with. He thought back to Izumi cooking for him, Makoto encouraging him to take the seat next to her... this couldn't all be an act. Even without Robin and Loki to assure him of that possibility, he knew this love was genuine.

His new family always seemed to know what to say. Whatever doubts entered his mind, one of the Niijima's would tell him exactly what he needed to hear. It was like his concerns were written as clear as day across his forehead, or his thoughts escaped his mind and echoed around the room for everyone to hear. (He sure hoped neither of those things happened.)

Izumi regarded him with a look Goro could only classify as patient. "How about you come with us to drop Makoto off at school?"

Goro was six, he wasn't supposed to be left alone. (Of course, he had been left by himself more times than he could remember, but that was besides the point.) He knew Izumi was asking to make him think he had a choice, but he knew he would be going for the ride regardless of what he said. It worked out in the end because Goro did want to go on the car ride and see his new sister's school. If things went well with the Niijima's, it would probably be his school too.

"Okay."

Where are we going? Robin asked, his voice slurring slightly. He had woken up a little after Goro had buckled his seat belt and Izumi pulled out of the driveway.

Goro did his best to convey the thought school to the other boy, but he always had trouble conversing through thought. It was easier to say things aloud so that his thoughts weren't misinterpreted, but with Makoto sitting next to him and Izumi in the driver's seat in front of him, his thoughts would have to do.

He could feel Robin's confusion seep through and into himself. We're starting school already? We just got here!

Goro slightly shook his head, Makoto is going to school, we're just going for the ride. He hoped that Robin got the message.

Oh, the other boy said, well, that might end up being our school too, you know.

He stared out the window, watching as trees, other cars, and people blurred by. When Goro had been driven to the Niijima residence last night, it had been too dark to see any of his surroundings. They seemed to live close to a forest of some kind, if all these trees were something to go by.

"This is Inokashira Park," Izumi explained, looking at Goro through the reflection in the rear view mirror. "Makoto's school is in Shibuya. Sae takes the train because Shujin is in Aoyama-Itchome."

Goro nodded along, despite not really having any sense of location. He knew all these places were in Tokyo. Even though he had been through a handful of different foster homes, they had all been in Tokyo. Robin seemed just as perplexed at the different names - Loki was the best when it came to direction and the names of places, but the other boy was still asleep.

They were driving on the street bordering the park, but Goro could see the serenity of Inokashira from the car window. As it was already nearing the end of November, the trees were barren, but Goro could just imagine what they must have looked like in the spring and summer. The water scintillated in the early throes of sunshine, and the wooden bridge glinted with a small layer of morning dew.

Makoto leaned over from her seat to look over his shoulder, pulling her seat belt to its furthest extension. "It's too cold to go to the park nowadays. We'll definitely go in the spring, okay?"

Goro nodded, not taking his eyes off the sight before him. "I'm looking forward to it."

A little after that conversation, Loki stirred awake with a groan.

Robin had amusement in his tone when he said, Good morning, sleeping beauty.

Oh, shut it, bird brain.

Goro stifled a laugh with his fist, attempting to turn it into a cough. When Izumi asked if he was feeling okay, he excused it by saying his throat was dry. He really needed to work on not reacting externally to Robin and Loki's constant back-and-forth.

Well... Robin began tentatively, if we're to be staying with the Niijima's permanently -

Goro's eyes trailed down to his hands in his lap and he worried his lip. As welcome as he felt today and yesterday, there was always the possibility that this might not be permanent. It had been less than a day and things could change. In the past, many of Goro's foster families started off nice - they had been doing it for the easy money, and once they realized how horrid of a child Goro was, he had been treated like the garbage he was and promptly disposed.

Loki sighed. Robin and I can stay a secret until you're ready to tell them. Goro could hear the frown in the other boy's voice. I'd love to meet them as myself, though.

Goro felt his fingers tighten, bunching up the fabric of his pant legs. It was selfish of him to deny Loki and Robin that opportunity, wasn't it? He had been so worried about being rejected by his new family that he hadn't even considered Loki or Robin's feelings about them. They were adopted by the Niijima's as well, even if they all shared one body.

It doesn't have to be today, Robin reassured, sensing Goro's growing anxiety, just... eventually, okay?

Goro nodded, frowning a bit to himself when his hair fell into his face. He would ask for a haircut once they dropped Makoto off. Luckily, the rest of the trip seemed to blur by after their conversation.

Upon arriving at Yoyogisanya Elementary School, Izumi and Makoto goaded him out of the car. After breakfast, Goro had changed out of his pajamas into something warmer, so he didn't mind the November chill. Besides, these were the warmest clothes he had ever owned - the rags he had been wearing back at the orphanage might as well have been paper, considering how little warmth and protection they offered. He walked with Izumi and Makoto, watching the other children run towards the entrance of the school.

"Makoto-chan has a brother?" One of the girls asked, her brown eyes flicking between her friend and the newest Niijima. The girl's friend shrugged, casting Goro a curious glance as well. "His hair is longer than hers."

Goro averted his eyes, continuing to keep pace with Izumi and Makoto. Makoto seemed to take shorter steps so that they could walk side by side.

"Why haven't we seen him before?" A boy asked his walking companion as they passed the Niijima's, "did he get kicked out of school or something?"

Goro felt an ache behind his eyes, and he blinked a few times to try and resettle himself. He was beginning to feel lightheaded.

Goro-chan, Loki said lowly, let me take care of them.

He shook his head, pressing his chin further into his scarf and hiding his eyes with his bangs. They're not doing anything wrong. Just talking.

Someone grabbed his hand. Fear seized him and he flinched away with a small yelp.

Makoto stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before her features melted into shame. "I-I'm sorry," she pulled her hand back, gripping her backpack strap instead. "They were saying mean things and..."

She trailed off, and Goro pulled himself together as best he could, offering her a weak smile. "I'm used to it. It's not your fault, Mako-chan."

"You shouldn't have to be used to it, though!" She stopped her foot, drawing the attention of some passers-by. "They don't know you and they shouldn't be talking about you."

While Makoto's sentiment was kind, Goro had to be used to it, these past two years. More people talked about him than with him - about how he was a trouble child and couldn't last at any foster home he was placed at. Foster families decided that the money wasn't worth dealing with him and shuttled him back to the orphanage as fast as possible. Other children at the orphanage mocked him for coming back, time after time.

"Only a month this time?" One of the older boys had asked with a sneer. "You talk to yourself. You must be crazy." He gathered up saliva and spat on Goro. "No wonder they threw a freak show like you out."

Another boy pressed his foot against Goro's back before kicking him to the ground. "Which one of your imaginary friends is gonna threaten me this time?"

"Goro?" Izumi was now crouching in front of him, "don't listen to them. Some kids just like to feel like top dogs and spread rumors."

Goro still felt dizzy. He couldn't grasp any of his thoughts and Izumi's voice sounded like it was coming from a mile away. He blinked, and blinked again, and -

Loki shook his head, blinking past his headache. When he refocused, Izumi and Makoto were staring at him with varying levels of concern.

"I..."

Loki didn't know how he planned on finishing that thought. He still felt majorly disoriented, and despite watching Goro's situation before he pushed himself forward, it felt like his entire train of thought derailed.

"Let's... Let's get Makoto to school." Izumi stood up, offering her hand. In his haze, Loki accepted it immediately. "Your morning assembly starts soon, right, Mako-chan?"

Makoto shifted her gaze away from Loki and blinked up at her mother, the question registering a moment later. "Yep! I should make it in time, don't worry."

Loki allowed a frown to pull his lips down as he sunk his face further into his scarf. He was making them worry over him for no reason. They didn't know what to make of him. Shame weighed his shoulders down and he allowed Izumi to pull him along towards the entrance of the school.

When Makoto parted ways with them, Loki forced a smile onto his face and wished her a good day at school. It was a poor caricature of Goro's usual poise, but Loki couldn't fight past the sinking feeling in his chest. He had ruined Izumi and Makoto's morning.

Once again, Loki let Izumi pull him forward and guide him to the car. He kept his eyes on his feet, noting that Goro had put on Robin's blue shoes. He really should walk at his own pace and avoid scuffing them.

"Goro," Izumi began tentatively. They were almost to the car. "Is everything alright?"

Some part of him wanted to say, 'No, everything's not alright. I'm not even Goro. Could you even tell?'

He chewed the inside of his mouth, pushing that thought down. It wasn't fair of him to lash out at Izumi - she had his best interest in mind.

Loki tilted his head down and shut his eyes. As eloquently as always, he said, "I want a haircut."

Through his mane of hair, he could see Izumi's feet stop at the side of the car. He couldn't see her face and, frankly, he was too afraid to look up.

She unlocked the car, opened the driver's seat door, and walked over to open the back seat door. She seemed to consider her thoughts before saying, "I know just the place."

Loki shuffled his way to the car and took his seat. Izumi shut his door before walking back to the driver's seat and turning the car on.

Just as he finished buckling his seat belt, she caught his eyes in the reflection of the rear view mirror. "I... I know we're all still new to you, but... you can talk to any of us about anything that's bothering you. I don't want to see you upset."

Absentmindedly, Loki found himself clutching his seat belt. Childishly, he wished he had Mr. Crow to hold onto. "It's not you!" He blurted out, and proceeded to scramble to piece together a coherent thought. "I... er..."

Izumi offered him a patient look, something Goro's mother had never done in Loki's memories of her. Izumi was nothing like Goro's mother, no matter how similar they looked.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Not - not right now. I'm..." he averted his eyes in shame, "not ready yet."

Nevertheless, she nodded slowly. "I understand," and Loki wanted to apologize and spill the truth to her because she cared for him and he shut her out - "but just. Let me or any of the others know if there's anything we can do. You can do that for us, right?"

Hesitantly, he nodded his head. "... Yeah."

Loki allowed his thoughts to drift as he leaned back in his seat, feeling his body relax. He hadn't realized how tense he had been since he had been in control. Resting his head against the window, his eyes fluttered closed.

Loki? Robin asked tentatively. What happened?

Loki didn't really understand why but, whenever he would front, he seemed to unconsciously push Goro and Robin away from himself. It wasn't like he wanted to block them from seeing what he was doing, it just... happened. It was only when he'd pull back that he could converse with the other two.

We're safe, he answered simply, feeling comforted by the vibrations of the car. Oh - and getting a haircut.

Robin, being the extrovert he was, decided he would be the one to get the haircut. He could impersonate Goro better than Loki, and conversation came easier to him as a whole. Goro attributed this occurrence to Robin presumably being a prince, if his appearance was anything to go by, at least.

"Here we are," Izumi broke the silence as she parked the car and unbuckled herself. "You ready to go?"

Robin slipped into pleasantness as if it were a second skin. "Of course," he smiled amicably, renouncing his own seat belt.

Izumi regarded him with a slightly surprised look. "You certainly perked up fast, huh?"

It wasn't said mockingly, Robin realized. It was more like... Izumi was startled by the difference in demeanor between him and Loki. Understandable, considering they were two different people, but maybe Robin should turn down the charisma a touch.

He lowered his voice slightly, matching the register Goro typically spoke in. "I'm feeling a lot better now." He reached for the door handle, pulling it and moving to push the door open. He stepped out of the car before closing the door behind him.

He watched as Izumi turned off the car, stepped out herself, and shut her own door. "I'm sure cutting your hair will make you feel even better, then."

Nodding, he followed her onto the sidewalk and kept pace with her stride. "It's been starting to get in the way," he admitted, "and it makes it hard to see sometimes."

"I think it'll be good to chop it off," Izumi reached for the door handle of the barber shop, holding it open for Robin to walk in. "Cutting your hair is liberating."

Once he was inside, Robin pivoted so that he could hold the door for Izumi to enter as well. She offered him a 'thank you' as she stepped past him, and he followed her.

"Why is your hair long then?" He asked bluntly. If short hair was supposedly so freeing, why did her hair reach past her shoulder blades?

She looked down at him, a smile playing on her lips. "Well someone's quite the little detective."

Robin pulled at the ends of his sleeves, giving his hands something to do. He missed his gloves. Izumi laughed lightly, "I grow out my hair so that I can donate it. If donating my hair can let some little girl or boy have hair, I'll keep growing it out and donating it, ya know?"

He blinked up at her with a smile. "That's very kind of you, Izumi-san."

"Well," she led him towards the counter with a gentle guiding hand, "enough about me."

"Good morning!" The barber called from the other side of the room, tending to another man sitting in a spinning chair. "I'll be right with you."

Izumi and Robin took two empty seats by the counter. The shop was empty besides them, the barber, and the current client. An old enka song played in the background, and Robin found himself swinging his legs to the beat. He loved older music, and more times often than not, he wished he knew the words to sing along.

"What kind of music do you like, Goro?" Izumi asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. She seemed genuinely curious, and Robin embraced the warmth filling his chest because somebody was interested in him.

"Well..." he continued to swing his legs, moving his head like a slow metronome, "I never had the luxury of listening to whatever I wanted, but I like older music like this."

She nodded lightly. "Honestly, I didn't take you for a retro person." She frowned - "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course! You were enjoying those pop songs on the radio with me yesterday, so I thought that was more your thing."

Robin filed that information away for later. She must have been talking about Loki. Brushing away the thoughts for now, he shrugged. "I'm not too picky, I guess. Music is music, after all."

And for what their childhood had been like so far, yeah - music was music. It was just like how shows like Featherman were a reprieve from their awful situation. Anything pleasant was a welcome escape from their life at the time.

"What about books?"

Robin thought back to the dictionary Goro had spent nights reading and memorizing words from; he recalled the scar on their hand Goro had gotten when he tried to smuggle it back to the orphanage. Personally, Robin enjoyed a manga he found at one of their foster homes, and he remembered Loki raving about some fantasy book he discovered back at the orphanage.

"Anything I can get my hands on," he answered earnestly, considering their eclectic tastes, "I just like learning."

"Would you like to stop by the library after your haircut then?" Her gaze flicked down to her watch, "it's still relatively early right now."

Robin waited a moment, expecting input from Goro or Loki. When neither of them spoke, Robin figured he had the final say in the matter. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to go."

"It's a date, then!" Izumi clapped her hands together, and Robin found himself blushing. Seeing his flush, she chuckled. "It's just a saying."

Before Robin could attempt to salvage his dignity, the barber called them over. The last client strode past them, a smile on his face as he observed his new hair style.

"I didn't know you had a son, Niijima-chan!" The barber said in bemused awe. He smiled down at Robin, "your hair is a gorgeous shade of brown, young man."

Robin offered a small smile in return, fiddling with his sleeves again. "Thank you, sir."

"Very well-mannered, too," he smiled back, eyes crinkling at the edges with obvious signs of age. "And Endo-san is fine. Being called sir reminds me of how old I'm getting." The man belly-laughed, a rich sound that filled the entire shop, and Robin felt the tension leave his shoulders.

"My name is Goro," he bowed his head in respect, "please take care of me, Endo-san."

"Ah, no need for that, Goro-kun," Endo shook his head, gently guiding Robin to the chair the other man had been sitting in, "now tell me - any preferences for your cut?"

Taking the seat, Robin observed himself in the large mirror hanging on the wall. His bangs curled around his cheekbones, and there was a section that crossed over the bridge of his nose. His hair was somewhat bushy after washing it yesterday, and while it had quite a lot of volume at the top of his head, it hung down miserably by the time it grew past his chin.

He glanced towards Izumi for advice but her eyes seemed to say 'this is your choice'. He turned his gaze to Endo. "Just... a lot shorter. Somewhere around my ears," he breathed a sigh - "whatever you think would look good."

In all honesty, Robin didn't know. They had never had the option of a haircut, and whenever their current caretakers would get it cut, it wasn't like they had the opportunity to choose the style. Robin was used to adapting to unpleasant circumstances, and unfavorable haircuts were not the worst thing he had been given in his life. If a foster parent had ever cared enough to cut his hair, it was with their own scissors at the bathroom sink. This was his first time at a barbershop, and he trusted a professional to know hair styles.

Endo regarded him with a meticulous eye. "A bowl cut wouldn't be flattering," he hummed to himself, "I'm thinking we keep the general shape but trim it to about the middle of your ears."

Robin nodded, "that sounds good to me, Endo-san."

The man turned to Izumi, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. "I like him so much better than Jiro."

Izumi laughed politely. "Jiji isn't that bad, I hope." She shook her head. "Goro is such a nice young man, you won't have any problems with him."

Robin smiled to himself, pleased with the praise. Compliments were just as delectable as candy, and Robin had quite the sweet tooth. No wonder Goro felt like he was on cloud nine every time he was acknowledged or treated kindly - this was sublime.

Before he knew it, Endo began spraying his hair, combing through it, and cutting it. He walked Robin through each step, telling the boy exactly what he was doing. Maybe Endo heard Robin's comment about wanting to learn; Robin had no problem with it at all - it gave his mind something to focus on.

"Let me know if you get too hot," the barber said, moving the blow dryer and combing through Robin's drying hair. The boy nodded, enjoying the warmth on his now-bare neck.

Robin inspected himself in the mirror. His hair ended around the middle of his ears, and while his bangs still retained their shape and placement, they were much shorter and kept out of his eyes. Even with part of his hair still wet, his head felt much lighter than it did before he got it cut. That must have been the liberating feeling Izumi was telling him about.

Endo placed his hands on the shoulders of the chair, spinning it around so Robin was facing Izumi. "How did I do?"

Seeing the delighted grin on Izumi's face when she breathed out, "my beautiful boy," Robin wished he could freeze time and bask in this moment forever.

The man unbuttoned the barber cape and brushed off whatever locks of hair were left on Robin's shirt. He placed a gentle, calloused hand on Robin's shoulder. "For being such a well-behaved boy, I couldn't possibly charge your mother for the cut."

Izumi shook her head, reaching into her purse. "Endo-san, I couldn't possibly-"

"Please," he irrupted, giving Robin a reassuring pat on the back, "Jiro gives me enough business with that weed bush of his. I'll charge you next time if you really insist."

Robin ran his fingers through his now considerably shorter mop of hair, allowing his touch to linger on the warmth still clinging to the locks. Tentatively, he readjusted his bangs, parting them to the right. R for right and R for Robin, just like the dresser in their bedroom. He tilted his head, finding he liked the asymmetry of the skew.

"Goro honey," Izumi broke him out of his self-appraisal, causing him to spin on his heel and meet her gaze, "are you ready to head to the library?"

Robin gave her an energetic nod. "Yeah!" Remembering his manners, he turned back to the barber and bowed his head once again. "Thank you, Endo-san!"

Endo chuckled, tucking his comb into his pocket with a practiced motion. "It was my pleasure." And in that same conspiratorial voice he spoke to Izumi in, he loudly whispered, "tell your father I have a new favorite."

Robin giggled, "I don't know how he'll take that news."

After exchanging pleasantries, Izumi and Robin exited the shop and headed back to the car. With his new haircut, Robin felt rejuvenated - he felt like he could take on anything, right now. It was as if cutting his hair had been one and the same as cutting off his past.

It was liberating.

Robin took his seat, buckling himself in. He caught his reflection in the rear view mirror, observing his hair once again. Surprisingly, he was really liking the slight rightward sweep to his bangs. That small distinction made him feel more Robin than Goro. That was... also liberating, in a way.

The car rumbled to life and Robin allowed the city noises to fade into the background as he shut his eyes. In a moment, he was back in his old apartment and white princely attire. The hair in his low ponytail tickled the nape of his neck and he brushed the initial disorientation off. As he had come to on the living room couch, he got to his feet and made his way through the kitchenette and down the hallway.

Standing in front of the bedroom door, he skimmed over the colorful drawings pinned and taped on. There was a drawing of him slightly above his eye level, sketched by Goro a few months after Robin had come to be. Other drawings consisted of Goro himself, others of Loki, some of the Feather Rangers, and many depicting the three of them with Goro's mother.

Robin took in a deep breath before knocking on the door. "Are you two in there?"

"Yeah," Loki answered, "you can come in."

He turned the knob and lightly pushed the door open. The room sprawled open before him, revealing Loki and Robin sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bed. Wordlessly, he took a seat next to them and put his hands on his knees.

"How are you two feeling?" He asked finally, flicking his golden eyes towards his right. Loki sat directly next to him, fiddling with his hands, and Goro sat to Loki's right with his knees pulled to his chest.

"Still a little dizzy," Goro admitted, turning to the left and pressing his face into his knees. "How did the haircut go?"

Robin smiled lightly, reminiscing Izumi and Endo's kind words and the warmth that still swirled in his chest. "Really well. You guys'll love it."

Loki put his head onto Robin's shoulder, leaning his weight against the prince. "Is Izumi-san mad at us?"

Closing his eyes, Robin could still imagine Izumi looking at him like he was her own child. My beautiful boy, she had said, and it repeated as a mantra in his head: my beautiful boy, my beautiful boy.

He allowed his head to rest against Loki's, a gentle smile gracing his features. "No," he hummed, content with staying in this position forever, "not at all."

The three boys enjoyed the comfortable silence between them, pressing close to one another. For a blurry moment, there was no distinction between the three of them - thoughts and feelings blended together in the halcyon.

"Where are we going now?" One of them asked - Goro asked, breaking that moment of cohesion.

Robin shook his head, recomposing himself because he was Robin again - "Library. Getting... Getting books."

"Maybe..." Loki slumped forward, rubbing at his eyes to clear his fuzzy thoughts, "we should all be there for that?"

"Y-Yeah," Goro stumbled through his usual poise when it came to conversation, squeezing his eyes tightly shut before opening them a few moments later. "I can-"

"Goro?" Izumi asked, and suddenly he was in the car, hands clutching the seat belt. He stared at the woman blankly, blinked a few times -

"Sorry," he mumbled, averting his eyes to his lap, "headache."

She seemed to consider her thoughts for a moment before speaking. "Do you still want to go? I can always bring you home if you aren't feeling well."

"No!" He shook his head immediately. Then - he blinked, realizing that no wasn't what he meant. "I mean..." Taking in a deep breath to ground himself, he reached to unbuckle his seat belt. "I'm okay. And I want to go to the library."

Izumi stepped back, allowing Goro enough room to hop out of the car and onto the sidewalk. "As long as you're feeling up to it, I won't stop you."

She's so patient, Loki murmured, mom was never -

I wonder what books they have! Robin interrupted, his voice pitched up higher than usual. Goro winced slightly.

"We're going to need to get you a library card, aren't we?" Izumi mused out loud, and it was a welcome distraction from... whatever Loki and Robin were talking about. Goro latched onto the conversation immediately.

"Do you bring Makoto-chan here too?" He inquired genuinely, matching her stride so they were walking side by side.

"I'm a library goer myself," she disclosed, and the reason why she spoke like the punchline of a joke was coming was on the tip of Goro's tongue - "One of my books is on the shelves here, after all."

Goro had almost forgotten that Izumi was a novelist. That had been one of the first things she told him, back when she and Jiro were being interviewed. He had slotted it away at the time, wholeheartedly believing they would be another couple to be interested in him, see what he was truly like, and go running out the orphanage doors without so much as looking back.

"What do you write about?" He chanced, reaching to open the door when they stood in front of it.

Izumi stepped inside and turned to hold the door open for him right after. "Young adult fiction, usually. I'm currently working on something of a different genre," she put a lithe finger to her lips and smirked deviously, "but it's still a secret."

His eyes flicked to his shoes before looking back up to Izumi. "Do... do the rest of your family not know?" Is it just me you're not telling?

"Oh no," she huffed, bemused about it all, "not even my editor knows just yet."

After a beat of hesitation, he nodded. He felt better, knowing he wasn't the only one in the dark. He turned to his left and, to his surprise, his own face stared back at him in the mirror.

What a conveniently placed mirror, Captain Robin the Obvious said, anyway - see! We look good!

Goro readjusted his bangs so that one fell over the top of his nose's bridge, right in the space between his eyebrows. Smaller bangs curled above his eyes, and his hair stayed in the general direction of downwards compared to how Robin had parted his hair to the right. It felt natural, if anything.

Short hair suits us, Loki hummed, his voice back to normal. (Goro assumed whatever was upsetting the boy before was sorted out - or it was just pushed away to deal with later. Loki had the tendency to swallow down his feelings and refuse to deal with them until they came to smack him in the face.)

"Still deciding on how you want to style your hair?" Izumi asked jokingly, noting the more neutral way Goro had parted it. "Play around with it a bit and see what you like. I'm sure something will feel just right."

Goro smiled to himself, thinking of him and Robin having different feelings of just right - a private joke between the three of them.

Let me guess, Loki said in a mocking sardonic tone, I'll part my hair to the left and it'll 'feel natural' too, right?

Robin huffed, I can't describe it but...

Goro tuned out Robin's explanation and Loki's rebuttal and whatever else came after. He'd reconvene once it came to the book selection process.

"Let's get you that card made so you can pick out some books to bring home," Izumi goaded, leading him towards the wooden counter. As he walked, he took in the vastness of the library - wondered just how much information was fitted on the shelves, and became overwhelmed with the intoxicating idea that he could pick out anything he wanted.

Goro allowed himself a private smile. This feeling was liberating.

Chapter Text

Goro held his newly laminated library card as if it were a treasure. Written in kanji was Shibuya City Library, and in the corner of the card was a cute dog mascot with one of its ears folded down. Flipping it over in his hands, he read over his own signature: Niijima Goro, written shakily but overall legible. The characters for Goro were written much neater than the ones for Niijima, but Goro would have time to practice and get used to his new name.

Izumi encouraged him to explore the library by himself and find what he was interested in. "I doubt you want me hovering over you," she patted his back and offered him a smile, "I'll be right over there" - she pointed towards a section to their right - "if you need me."

While Goro was enjoying the attention he had been receiving from the Niijima's, he would never deny some freedom. Besides, it would make the book selection process with Robin and Loki a lot less complicated without Izumi over his shoulder. It should be fine, considering he would meet back with her after he picked out some books.

Goro lifted his gaze, taking in the additional levels of the library. There were two extra floors, filled to the brim with tall bookshelves. He noticed tables and chairs dispersed throughout the library as he walked through the passageways between bookshelves. He could hear quiet chatters around him, signaling other library-goers. He sighed to himself. Being completely alone was wishful thinking.

He made his way up the ramp and onto the second floor. There were more people here, either standing at the bookshelves or seated at the chairs. He spared a glance behind him and spotted Izumi still on the first floor where she told him she would be; she trusted him enough not to follow him, so that was good.

What's that over there? Robin asked, snapping Goro out of his thoughts. His eyes trailed to a bookshelf decorated with vivid colors and origami plastered onto it. Let's check it out!

Goro hummed in response and walked towards the bookshelf in question. According to the labeling, this section was for children. Making his way through the aisle, he noticed the wide array of colors; every single book seemed to pop out at him. "Wow," he breathed, a smile growing on his face, "this is amazing."

He picked a book at random. Loki read the title slowly, Shirokuma-chan's... Pancakes?

The cover was orange with a white cartoon bear sitting at a table, a steaming stack of pancakes on the table in front of it. Goro opened it gently, admiring the cuteness of the art style. He flipped through the pages to understand the gist of the story. "The bear asks his mom to make pancakes for him and she does," he closed the book, an idea bubbling to the forefront of his mind. "Why don't we ask Izumi-san to make us pancakes?"

Pancakes! Robin cheered, we haven't had those in years!

Goro's fingers tightened on the book. Robin's enthusiasm seemed to plummet, and Loki decided to redirect the conversation. How about that book?

Goro allowed Loki to reach forward and grab the spine of a white book. Flipping it over in his hands, Goro's eyes scanned the cover: "Guri and Gura..." He noted the two mice on the cover, one dressed in red and the other in blue, and began to skim the contents. "They find a giant egg... and bake a giant cake."

I liked the other book better, Robin sighed dejectedly. Loki nodded his agreement, and Goro slid the book back onto the shelf. Can we go look at manga?

"I wonder what kinds they'll have..."

Clutching the pancake book to his chest, Goro left the children's section and walked through the library until he stumbled upon manga. Standing in front of a bookshelf division titled mahou shoujo, he felt Robin pushing forward in interest. Goro pulled himself backward, allowing Robin to front in his place.

Robin excitedly reached forward to search through the collection, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he read the titles. Kanji was difficult for him to read, but he wouldn't allow that to stop him. He slid one of the volumes out from its place on the shelf, narrowing his eyes. "Pretty Soldier - no, Guardian?" He squinted, trying to make sense of the next part of the title. "... Sera... Mun?"

I think, Goro interrupted, slightly frustrated with Robin's poor reading ability, that last part is meant to be English words.

Robin frowned. "What does Sera Mun sound like?" He wasn't very familiar with English at all.

It's Sērā Mūn, so... Goro hummed in thought. Sērā sounds like Sailor. Mūn is probably Moon?

"What does Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon even mean?" Robin inspected the manga cover, noticing a blonde girl with the moon above her. "She's pretty and guards the moon?" His eyes widened. "Wow, and she's a sailor on top of it!"

Pleased with his deduction, Robin dove headfirst into the volume, ignoring the other two boys. Goro and Loki exchanged a look, unsure of what to make of Robin's new interest. Once Robin finished the first volume, he slid it back onto the shelf and took the next one.

Actually, Robin, Goro spoke, causing the boy to stop in his tracks, why don't we check the next few volumes out and you can read them at home?

While Robin frowned in disappointment, he agreed. "Okay..." He took volumes two through eight, as the manga series went up to sixteen. "We can come back for the second half, right?"

That's up to Izumi-san, Loki reminded. Suddenly, he drew their gaze to the bookshelf division on their left. Oh, Goro-chan. Is that Featherman?

Goro walked towards the section labeled sentai, clutching Robin's books to his chest. Lo and behold, the Featherman manga spread out before him. "I didn't even know there was a manga!"

He leaned down, gently placing his current collection of books onto the ground by his feet. He nearly dropped his library card, forgetting that it had been under the pile; he slid it into his pocket so he wouldn't lose it. Standing up, he took the first volume into his hands and grinned.

Can we even carry all of these books? Loki asked. I'm sure you're going to take as many of those volumes as you can.

"We can make two trips?" He offered, half paying attention to Loki. His mind was focused on the manga in his hands, colored pages illustrating Red Hawk's backstory. When Goro flipped the page and it returned to being strictly in black-and-white, he pouted in disappointment.

The lady at the desk said we can take out up to twenty books, Robin said. So far we have the pancake book... and then we have seven of mine...

Loki sighed. Goro-chan, how many of these volumes are you going to check out?

Goro memorized his page number before closing the book. He scanned over the shelf full of Featherman, a variety of mainline and spin-offs, and grabbed up to volume five. "If I take five, that makes thirteen."

So seven for me? Loki hummed, slightly pushing forward. I don't think I can read that many books in two weeks...

Once again, Goro allowed himself to be pulled backwards. Loki placed the Featherman manga on top of the pile at his feet, and he frowned at the sight of it. "I seriously don't think we can carry all of these."

Robin paused thoughtfully. Can we put them on a table for right now and come back?

"Probably," Loki answered, bending over to take the current stack of books into his arms. He fumbled with them slightly, nearly dropping some of Robin's mahou shoujo, but he was able to rebalance the pile. "... Two trips, for sure."

With careful steps, he made it to a table and unceremoniously dropped the pile. Goro chided Loki for his... ungraceful treatment of the books, and Loki muttered an apology. He rolled his shoulders back, grateful that his arms were free. Those books were heavier than they looked.

Glancing around, Loki scanned over the genres listed along the bookshelves. He thought back to the book he had read and enjoyed back at the orphanage. What genre would that be classified as...?

Fantasy, I think.

Hearing Robin's voice, Loki blinked past his stupor. He realized belatedly that Goro and Robin were able to see what he was doing and talk to him. Usually, he would unconsciously push them away and block them from seeing. What-

Loki? Goro asked, breaking him out of his thoughts, what's wrong?

He shook his head, slowly making his way past the bookshelves in search of the fantasy book section. Goro and Robin hadn't commented on it, so maybe it was best to not mention it. Maybe he only blocked them out when he was emotionally distressed? Honestly, he didn't really know.

"Found it," he murmured, turning from the main walkthrough area and into the fantasy aisle. There was another person in the section - a man around his twenties - so Loki decided to keep to himself for the time being. He scanned over the bookshelf contents, thumbing over the spines as he read the titles.

He took out a green-covered book. Dragon Sword and Wind Child, he read the title before flipping over to the back to read the synopsis. From what he could make out, the premise seemed relatively interesting.

We're going to need to check out a dictionary if you get that book, Goro sighed. I don't think you knew what half of those words were.

Loki spared a glance to the other side of the aisle and, seeing as the other person was still there, he merely grumbled under his breath. He pulled the book close to his chest with one arm and used his other arm to continue searching through books. After a few minutes of skimming through titles and summaries, he picked out another green-covered book. Moribito: Guardian of The Spirit - this one also sounds pretty cool.

He waited for a snarky remark about his reading comprehension but it never came. Loki glanced to his left again and the man was no longer there. In the silence, he whispered, "I think I'm good."

Robin seemed to perk up at that. Oh, only two books? He sounded drowsy.

Loki tilted his chin down, staring at his shoes. "You fell asleep, didn't you?"

I did not-

He was totally dozing off, Goro snickered. To be fair, your selection process took a while.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, walking back towards their stack of books, "not everybody can find a manga and grab the first few volumes of it."

Robin, who was more awake now, pouted. I take offense to that.

"Of course you do," he shook his head fondly. He stood in front of the table, staring down the giant pile before him. "I guess I'll grab an armful and come back."

Loki readjusted his two novels and was able to take five of Robin's manga into his arms. That left the remaining two of Robin's Sailor Moon volumes, all five of Goro's Featherman manga, and Shirokuma's Pancakes. Seven books this trip and eight in the next one, that was just about even.

He took careful steps, making sure not to bump into anyone or anything, and went down the small ramp. Now that he was on the first floor, he made his way towards the section Izumi had instructed them to meet up with her; he noticed her sitting in a chair, nose buried in a book.

"Izumi-san," he said once he stood beside her chair, "I have eight other books still upstairs."

She took her bookmark from the first page and slipped it into her current spot. She turned her gaze to him and noticed the armful of books he was already carrying. "Goro..." she knelt down and took the books from Loki, "I wish you asked me to help you bring them down."

She's not mad at you, Robin reminded softly.

Loki hung his head. "Sorry."

Izumi adjusted the books so that she could free one of her arms. When she placed a gentle hand on Loki's shoulder, he looked up abruptly. "I'll bring these to the counter. Why don't you go get the rest of them?"

Her hand is so soft and warm and gentle and-

"Okay," he nodded fervently, cutting off his train of thought. He hurried back to the ramp, went up to the second floor, and relocated the pile of books on the table. Picking them up and pulling them close to his chest, Loki headed back to the main floor. He met back with Izumi at the library counter.

"That's quite the collection you have," the lady stamping the inside covers said conversationally. "Just make sure you read them all within two weeks, or come back to renew them if you don't finish by then."

Loki nodded and turned to Izumi, who watched the stamping process with a smidgen of curiosity. Seeing his fantasy novels get stamped, he was reminded of Goro's comment and-

"I forgot the dictionary," he said in disbelief, his eyes widening.

Izumi shook her head. "We have one at home, you don't need to check one out."

He blinked back at her. "You have one?"

When she laughed lightly, Loki felt his heart skip a beat. "I am a writer, you know. A dictionary is a girl's best friend in that case."

The lady behind the counter shared a laugh. "That's one way to put it, Izumi-san." She slid the final book to the side before turning her gaze down to Loki. "Your library card?"

"Right," he said, fishing for it in his pocket. When his fingers found it, he smiled triumphantly. "Here you go!"

She scribbled something down on a piece of paper, and Loki was handed back his card. Turning to Izumi, she asked with a light smirk, "Would you like a bag?"

"For my little bookworm's personal library?" She barely bit back a laugh. "If you wouldn't mind, thank you."

Loki shuffled in place, unsure of how to take that comment. These social nuances seemed to go over his head, and the intricacies of conversation made talking seem like an immensely challenging game. She's not mad at me, he thought to himself, that's what Robin said earlier.

A plastic bag was held in front of his face. He could make out the vague shapes of books inside. "I'm glad you're taking an interest in reading," she said quietly, "Maybe we can do a book club, if you're up for it?"

He blinked up at her in confusion. "A book club? What's that?"

"Oh, well," she averted her eyes as she rethought her suggestion, "book clubs are when a bunch of people get together, read the same book, and then talk about it. We wouldn't be reading the same book, but we can still share what we're reading."

That sounds like fun, Goro said cheerfully. She actually wants to hear what we think of things.

Robin sighed wistfully, I can tell her all about my pretty sailor girls protecting the moon...

"Let's do it!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, reaching forward to take the bag of books.

Izumi smiled down at him and began to walk towards the exit. "Let's start heading home. We can discuss our book club there."

Loki followed in her footsteps, allowing the bag to swing at his side. Izumi held the door open for him and, in an instant, he was back in the chilly November air. He shivered instinctively and took quicker steps. Not too long after, they were back in the car, and Loki placed the bag onto the seat next to him.

As Izumi shut his door and made her way to the driver's seat, Loki caught a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror. He ran his hand through his hair, brushing his bangs to the left. Moving his head slightly, he appraised himself in the mirror. He smiled slightly. Feels natural. What a surprise.

Izumi clicked her seat belt in place and met his gaze in the mirror. "Still figuring your hair style out?"

Loki leaned back in his seat, pressing his back into the cushions. "It's a work in progress."

For the entire trip home, Loki stared out the window and took in the sights of Shibuya's city streets. It was now late morning, and people hurried from place to place with quick steps. Tall buildings loomed overhead, and Loki tilted his head to get a better look at just how high they went. Sights like this made him realize how small he was.

"Have you been to Shibuya before, Goro?" Izumi asked, keeping her eyes on the road. She tapped a finger against the steering wheel as they sat at a red light.

Loki chewed the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his memories. Goro had lived with his mother in a run-down apartment in the backstreets of Shinjuku. It had made the work commute for Goro's mother short, considering Kabukichō was not too far from their apartment. Once they were put into the orphanage and shifted from foster home to foster home, there wasn't much going outside and exploring. They had lived in Kanda areas such as Jinbōchō and Akihabara, had a brief stint in Ueno, spent some time bouncing around Ikebukuro - but they mostly ended up back at the orphanage in Shinjuku.

"No," he admitted.

Shibuya had buildings that stretched endlessly and touched the skies. Every shop was bustling with life and Loki wished he could stay here forever. He had spent so much of his life in the dark - the promise of city life was intoxicating.

He crossed his arms on the inner part of the door and lay his head down. Shibuya must be beautiful at night, lit up with street lights and shop signs. Skyscrapers beaming from top to bottom, the glare of car headlights...

Izumi unbuckled herself, the click snapping Loki out of his thoughts. He picked his head up, blinking away the fuzziness of his thoughts. He must have dozed off for the remainder of the ride home. He unbuckled himself, reached for the bag of books at his side, and opened his door.

"Maybe," Izumi yawned, covering his mouth with her hand, "it's nap time."

Getting to his feet outside of the car, Loki allowed his shoulders to sink. With the busyness of the morning, it was difficult to realize how worn out his body was. One good night's sleep was a step in the right direction, but years of sleep deprivation would not be easy to counteract. Besides, it wasn't even noon yet - a nap wouldn't do him any harm.

He shut his eyes for a long moment. "That sounds good..."

Loki followed her up the walkway and to the front door. Despite his drowsiness, he raised his head to take in the Niijima residence for the first time. As it had been too dark last night after their clothes shopping to make out any details, Loki could finally see the two-story design. It looked to be mostly wooden, and there were windows for each of the rooms visible from the front of the house. The house was a mahogany color, and the accents around the windows were a clean white.

"After you," Izumi said, holding the door open for him. Loki gave a slight nod of his head before shuffling inside. Taking off his shoes in the genkan, he looked up to see Izumi locking up the door before doing the same.

She sighed contentedly. "It's been awhile since I've been out and about that early in the morning," she walked over to the kotatsu and placed down her own bag of books. "It's refreshing."

Tentatively, Loki made his way to her side and put his bag besides hers. "It was nice," he said quietly. "I like the city."

Izumi took a seat at the sofa a few paces away from the kotatsu, and Loki could finally see her face; she wore a gentle smile. "We'll go there more often, then. Shibuya is beautiful during the holiday season."

It was the end of November, so... "That's really soon, isn't it?"

"Yep," she nodded, "December is right around the corner. Wait until you see the lights!"

Loki shared her high-spirits, smiling along. "I can't-" he yawned loudly, "wait."

She laughed and stood up, walking over to offer him a hand. "Let's get you to bed before you fall asleep standing up."

Hardly keeping his eyes open, Loki reached forward and took her hand. In a blur, they went through the living room, around the bend, up the stairs...

"Wash your hands before you sleep," she reminded in a gentle tone. "We've been to a lot of places this morning and germs are everywhere."

He nodded languidly, eyes half shut. He slowly trudged his way to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Glancing up, he was met with his reflection: honey brown hair swept to the left and bleary garnet eyes with small dark smudges under them. In his half-awake state, he smiled at his hair style before shutting the tap. He barely toweled his hands dry before sluggishly dragging his feet to his room.

I didn't realize how tired we were, Goro said with an unrestrained yawn. Maybe we overdid it a little.

"Maybe," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and pulling his scarf over his head. He placed the clothes on top of the dresser before throwing himself onto their futon. His chest hit something, and he rolled over slightly to get a better look at it. Oh. "I missed you, Mr. Crow."

Loki pulled the blanket over himself and cuddled the stuffed animal to his chest. He nuzzled his head into the pillow and allowed his eyes to shut. He dreamed of snow, bright lights, and - for the first time in his life - the warmth of a mother.

Chapter Text

Robin blinked his eyes open, nuzzling his face into his pillow. In his sleep, he had rolled onto his stomach and Mr. Crow was pressed against his chest. The comforter was pulled up to his shoulders, heavy fabric keeping his body warm. He reached his hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. What time was it?

Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, he squinted at the sunlight slipping in through the window blinds. Afternoon, maybe? It was the end of November and the sun seemed to set by four or five at night. Honestly, having a clock to reference would be optimal; maybe he could ask Izumi if they had a spare he could keep in his room.

His room, huh? Robin smiled to himself. Well, maybe it was more accurate to say their room, considering he shared it with Goro and Loki, but still. It was nice to have his own space. The orphanage was never home; neither were the foster homes with their past foster families. The fact that the terms were foster homes and foster families made Robin's skin crawl; nothing about those houses and people were loving.

Homes were places where you felt safe. Families made you feel loved.

Robin had always wondered what it was like to be loved. Most children had parents that loved and cared for them. When his nights were spent curled into a ball on his small bed in the orphanage, he wondered what he had done to deserve this life. Most children had parents. What had he done wrong?

He moved to sit cross-legged, hands finding Mr. Crow. Brushing his fingers against the fuzzy black material, Robin sighed. This was a new chapter in their life. He had a good feeling about the Niijima's, and he was sure Goro and Loki did as well. Jiro went shopping with them and seemed anything besides burdened; Izumi was patient and made sure they were comfortable with whatever they did. Sae was nice and seemed as if she would warm up to them in time, and Makoto was a fun playmate.

Even when foster families would act nice at the beginning, they were never this attentive and caring. Robin could remember one of their first families being polite for the first two weeks but, as soon as Robin spoke out against something, the hat dropped. It had been a stormy night and their foster uncle locked him in a cramped closet before dinner; his only company that night had been his crippling hunger and the growing fear of the loud claps of thunder.

His fingers tightened around Mr. Crow, fluff morphing in his hands and misshaping the animal. He squeezed his eyes shut, dispelling the memory, and reopened them. He was safe now.

After a moment of composing himself, he clambered to his feet and approached the door. With one hand securely wrapped around Mr. Crow, he used the other to pull the door open. The hallway was empty and the other bedroom doors were open, rooms completely vacant. Sae and Makoto were still at school, and Jiro was probably still at work. Where was Izumi?

Robin headed down the stairs, fingers ghosting along the wood of the railings. When he got to the main floor, he made his way into the living room. Sitting in one of the chairs was a sleeping Izumi, an open book in her lap. She didn't snore and, if Robin wasn't paying close attention, he may have believed her to be awake with her eyes closed. Her breathing was even and she looked to be at peace.

One of the main skills Robin picked up on during his stay in foster homes was the ability to sneak around silently. Careful steps, avoiding foster family, and slipping around the house to steal food after being denied a meal. After Goro would fall asleep, Robin would take over and sneak into the kitchen. Loki had been envious of Robin's talent and tried it himself one night; he ended up with a hard slap across his face and an ugly bruise.

Robin slipped past Izumi and towards the kotatsu a foot away from her. A picture of her, Jiro, Sae, and Makoto sat on the table. He put Mr. Crow down and picked it up tentatively, observing it. Izumi and Jiro stood in back and Sae and Makoto were positioned in front of them. With Sae in front of Jiro and Makoto in front of Izumi, the daughters looked to be miniature versions of their parents. Makoto had her mother's chestnut brown hair and crimson eyes; Sae had her father's ashen brown hair and chocolate brown eyes.

Robin ran a hand through his honey brown hair, parting it to the right. While his hair and eye color weren't too far off from Izumi and Makoto's, it still felt wrong. He wasn't a Niijima - not really. His own mother was dead and his father was a nameless face.

He placed the photo back onto the kotatsu. His chest hurt, as if somebody had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. Robin reached for Mr. Crow and pulled the stuffed animal close to his chest.

His lips wobbled and he took a seat on one of the tatami, warm tears welling in his eyes. He pulled his knees to his chest, folded his arms over his legs, and pressed his face into arms. Muffling his cries, his body silently wracked with his sobs.

Reaching inside of himself, he recognized that Goro and Loki were both still asleep. That was fine - he didn't need to trouble them with his woes. They had enough to cry over.

"Goro?"

Robin kept his head buried in his arms, gasping through his sobs. This wasn't Izumi's fault, this wasn't her fault, why am I crying, please don't come near me -

Izumi dropped to her knees next to him, hovering her hand over his shoulder. "Goro honey," she said quietly, slowly, patiently, "you don't have to tell me what's wrong but can I do anything to make it better?"

He curled closer into himself, tears rolling down his cheeks. He shouldn't be crying. He shouldn't be burdening Izumi over something like this. This wasn't her fault. Why couldn't he stop crying?

She shifted, the fabric of her clothes brushing against the floor. "Can I hug you?" She asked.

Robin barely managed a nod. Izumi moved closer to him and enveloped him into a hug. He melted into the embrace, allowing himself to cry freely.

They remained like that for a few minutes until Robin ran out of tears to cry. He lay his body against hers weakly, eyes burning and nose a bright red. Izumi rubbed circles on his back, lulling him into a sense of calm.

She may not have been his biological mother but - that hardly meant she couldn't be his actual mother. Loki had felt similarly, especially after the time he spent with Izumi these past two days.

"Do you want to start our book club?" She asked not unkindly, giving him one more reassuring squeeze before leaning back. "It might make you feel better."

Robin sniffled, clutching Mr. Crow to his chest. A few hours ago he had been happy, getting a haircut and picking out his manga. He focused on those lingering memories, the fondness in Izumi's voice when she had said my beautiful boy and looked at him like he was her entire world. Maybe he would never be a Niijima by blood, but that meant nothing. Goro's father was out there somewhere, with the same blood swimming in his veins as his son, but the boys had never met the man. Blood obviously hadn't kept their father with them.

"Okay," he said with a small smile.

Izumi smiled back, and Robin wished he could immortalize the image forever. She headed up the stairs, presumably to retrieve the boys' bag of books from their room, which left Robin by himself. His garnet eyes trailed down to the crow in his hands, and the animal's beady eyes stared back at him. What an odd choice for a stuffed animal. Nevertheless, Mr. Crow was a comfort in its own way, and Robin was appreciative of Makoto's gift once again.

Robin felt a sudden shift and -

Oh, Loki said, voice heavy with sleep, you're already up, Robin?

He nodded, knowing that Izumi was still upstairs. He kept his voice quiet regardless. "Not for long," he answered, chancing a glance towards the stairs before looking back to the stuffed animal in his hands. "Goro-chan still asleep?"

Surprisingly. He's usually such a light sleeper.

At the sound of footsteps, Robin bit back whatever his response to Loki would have been. He turned expectantly towards Izumi, who carried the bag in one hand. Maybe he should have just told her which books he wanted instead of making her carry down the entire bag. Seeing as she was already down the stairs and placing the bag on the kotatsu, it was too late to tell her otherwise.

"Any preferences?" She asked, sitting back down and grabbing her own book. She flipped open the lid and Robin recognized her bookmark as the family photo he cried over earlier. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and reached towards the bag, perking up at the sight of his manga.

"Sērā Mūn!" Izumi gasped suddenly, and Robin nearly dropped the manga in his hand. "Sae loved that when she was younger and I used to watch it with her."

Robin could feel his earlier sadness ebbing away, as if the storm clouds had parted and the sun began to shine through. "Really?" He left Mr. Crow on his lap, allowing him to grab the book with both hands. "I read the first one at the library, I like it so much!"

Izumi leaned forward to slide the photo onto the kotatsu before sitting back in her chair with her novel. "We can watch the show together, if you want."

His face lit up, previous woes forgotten. "I'd love that!" He gave her a grin and immediately turned to the manga in his hands, observing the cover and the art. A different girl was displayed under the title, but her outfit was similar to the girl from the first volume's cover. Maybe they were a team and worked together to protect the moon?

"Her name is Sailor Mercury," Izumi said, looking up from her book, "You'll learn more about her when you read that volume."

"Sailor... Mercury?" The second word was hard to pronounce and, even with how odd it sounded on his tongue, Izumi failed to make fun of him. "Does she protect the moon with Sailor Moon?"

She gave him a wink. "You'll have to read to find out."

Robin accepted that as a challenge; he immediately tore into the book, ravenous in his reading, and indulged himself in the manga. Loki sighed quietly and decided to read along with Robin.

It was after finishing the fourth volume that Izumi stood up, slipped her bookmark in between her pages, and closed her book. Robin blinked up at her, surprised by her sudden actions. Loki bristled, preparing to switch if needed.

"We need to pick Makoto up from school," she said, placing her book onto the kotatsu, "your jacket is still upstairs, right?"

He nodded, remembering his earlier qualms about Izumi going out of her way to get his books. "I can go get it." He hopped to his feet, putting the completed volume back into the bag, and began to head up the stairs.

Once he was to the bedroom, he reached for the jacket and began to slip his arms into it. This jacket had been Sae's when she was younger, and it was too big on Makoto; Goro had insisted on the Niijima's not spending any more money on his clothes, and Jiro relented by finding some hand-me-down's from the girls. The jacket was gray, made of a puffy material, and reached Robin's waist when he pulled it on. This was just fine. They didn't need to burden their new family any more than they already had.

You think this is the one? Loki asked quietly, apropos of nothing.

Robin wrapped the scarf around his neck, a fuzzy shock of blue that draped over his shoulders. "I hope so."

Wouldn't it be wonderful for the Niijima's to be their forever family? Robin's thoughts seemed to constantly return to that question. None of their foster families were this attentive. Izumi looked at them like they were her entire world. Jiro ruffled their hair and said they were the son he always wanted. Sae and Makoto showed their love in completely different ways, but their intentions were as clear as day. It was early in the game to be making such a big decision but... when he was around their new family, he felt loved.

He headed down the stairs, meeting Izumi at the landing on the first floor. She held Mr. Crow out to him, a small smile on her face. "I think you forgot someone."

It was Loki who reached forward to retrieve the stuffed animal, pulling it close to their chest. Robin ducked his head down with a quiet, "thank you."

They walked to the genkan, put on their shoes, and headed out the door. Izumi held open Robin's door, waiting for him to be seated and strap on his seat belt before shutting it. Robin held onto Mr. Crow, fingers digging into its body, and watched as Izumi sat down and buckled her own seat belt. She turned on the ignition and powered the car into motion.

Robin's eyes trailed towards the car window. The sun had began to set, making way for the late afternoon sky. Darkness would settle in soon, the moon rising to claim the sun's place. He found solace in these cycles as an old comfort; toys were a rarity in the homes he grew up in, and watching the sky had become a recurring past time.

"The sun sets pretty early nowadays, doesn't it?" Izumi asked from the front seat, glancing at Robin through the rearview mirror, "less time in the day to get things done..."

He nodded. The sun did set pretty early, but there weren't many things on his daily to-do list. He had been quite busy yesterday and today, of course - but what was there to do after they got settled in their new family?

Maybe we'll go to school, Loki murmured, catching Robin's train of thought.

They had discussed this in the morning, before Loki had woken up. Goro had been anxious about whether their stay with the Niijima's was permanent, and they had been thinking about possibly attending the same school as Makoto. If they were to stay here, starting school was probably something in their future.

Robin's lips tugged into a slight frown. It was already the end of November and this would be their first year in school. Surely they would be behind. Were they even ready to socialize and meet other kids? Anxiety bubbled in his pit of his stomach at the thought.

Inokashira Park rushed by, the golden hues of the sunset reflecting against the water. The trees were barren, leaves shed within the month, and Robin's eyes lazily tracked the blurs of color. Izumi hummed along to a song only she could hear and tapped a finger against the steering wheel in tempo.

For a moment, Robin was back in the apartment Goro was raised in; his mother, sitting by his bedside, humming a lullaby. Honey brown hair shrouding her eyes, her features were fuzzy. Robin reached out to grab the memory and -

His hand met empty air, fingers brushing against the back of Izumi's seat.

Loki stayed silent, giving Robin privacy as a means of consolation. Robin brought his hand back to his lap, fingers resting on Mr. Crow's wing. His mother - Goro's mother - was gone, and nothing would be bringing her back. This was one of Goro's memories; why was Robin mourning a woman he never knew?

Izumi unbuckled her seat belt, the click snatching Robin's attention. His head shot up, and he watched the woman turn off the car and open her door before the thought of we're here came to his consciousness. He reached to unbuckle himself, pulled the lever for his door, and pushed it open. Tightening his grip on Mr. Crow, he placed the stuffed animal on his seat with a longing look. After a moment, he braced for the cold and hopped out of the car.

Once the car was locked up, Robin walked side by side with Izumi. He noticed her taking small steps to match his stride and pushed himself to walk faster. After just a few strides, his legs protested against him.

"We're early," she said, glancing down at him before returning her gaze to where she was going, "you don't need to push yourself, okay?"

Robin managed a nod. No reprimand, no scolding - just... a reminder not to hurt himself.

After a minute of walking, they arrived at the front entrance of the elementary school. Children were leaving the building, many hand-in-hand with their mother or father. There were kids with smiles on their faces, laughing and talking and skipping and -

Izumi offered out her hand - a lifeline. Robin reached his arm up and she took his hand in hers. They had both forgone gloves, considering this was meant as a quick excursion, and Robin basked in the warmth Izumi emitted. He wondered if Goro's mother had been this warm, before it all.

Loki directed their attention to a child approaching them. Makoto was running, backpack bouncing with every step. Her bob of chestnut brown hair swayed in the wind. She seemed completely undaunted by Robin holding her mother's hand. Did she notice? Did she even care?

"Mommy! Goro-chan!" She flung herself at Izumi's legs, wrapping her arms around one of them. Izumi used her free hand to give Makoto a squeeze, eliciting a giggle from the girl.

"How was school today, sweetheart?" She asked, crimson eyes on her daughter. Robin fought back the awful feeling growing in his chest. "Make any new friends?"

Makoto nodded, meeting her mom's gaze. "Yep! Two, actually!" She was bouncing on her heels, energy unable to be completely controlled.

Robin forced a smile onto his face when he said, "That's great! What are they like?"

Makoto seemed undeterred. "They're twins! Isn't that so cool?"

"That is very cool," Izumi said, "are they nice?"

Makoto nodded fervently, eyes flicking between her mother and Robin as she spoke. "Yep! Kasumi is really really pretty and good at dancing. Sumire - I just call her Sumi - is super smart and we worked on our homework together."

Robin was happy for Makoto, really. But the way Izumi looked at her... it made Robin feel sick, for some reason. His heart felt heavy and it was difficult to breathe. He shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket, balling it into a fist. Why was he feeling like this?

Want me to take over? Loki asked quietly, and Robin gave the barest of nods.

When Loki slipped into place, he was hardly surprised when he felt Robin's consciousness fade. Perhaps their co-consciousness in the library was a rare occurrence. He focused on his shoes, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Their nap had helped, but switching frequently like they had today gave him a slight headache.

He felt a small tug of his hand and his eyes slowly raised to Izumi. She had a concerned look on her face when she said, "You zoned out there. Are you ready to head home?"

Home. The word made Loki feel all tingly, like he was on cloud nine. The warmth of Izumi's hand, the expectant look on Makoto's face - jealousy wasn't necessary. Makoto was her daughter. Loki, Robin, and Goro were secondary to that.

"Goro-chan?"

Loki turned towards Makoto, blinking at her. Oh. He had gotten too caught up in his thoughts and forgot to answer Izumi. "Sorry," he mumbled, "'m ready to go."

Walking away from the school, getting into the car, and buckling himself was a blur. He shared the back seat with Makoto, her backpack sitting next to her and serving as a divide between them. She kicked her legs, the tips of her shoes barely brushing against the back of Izumi's seat, and hummed a tune Loki didn't know the name to. The radio droned on quietly, a commercial break playing rather than music. It was all white noise to his ears.

He gazed longingly out the window, the beginnings of street lamps and shop windows lighting up the way. The sun was minutes away from setting if the dark hues and beginning flecks of stars were anything to go by. He busied his hands with Mr. Crow, having picked up the stuffed animal from its spot on the seat. He couldn't wait for next month, where the streets would be lit up brighter than he had ever seen. Would Goro and Robin enjoy the lights too?

"Is something out there?" Makoto asked, leaning close to his shoulder. Her hands pressed into the middle seat, narrowly avoiding her backpack, and she seemed to be attempting to look out his window.

Loki blinked, meeting her gaze. He shook his head no before moving his eyes towards his lap. "Just looking at all the lights," he muttered, fingers squeezing the stuffed animal in his grasp.

She nodded, her bob of hair swaying with the motion. "Wait until Christmas," she said breathlessly. "The city is so pretty, all lit up like that."

Loki's lips twitched, the barest of smiles gracing his face. "Izumi-san said that too. I can't wait."

"Me either," she said, leaning back into her seat. She frowned at the sound her seat belt made, probably signalling that it had been pulled to its furthest length. With a small pout, she grabbed the belt and gave it a tug. "It's my favorite time of year. The snow is pretty and fun to play in - ooh, we can make snowmen and have snowball fights together!"

Her pout was gone, replaced with unrestrained mirth. Loki found it to be contagious, a smile growing on his own face. "I've never had a snowball fight," he admitted, and he watched as Makoto's jaw dropped.

"No way!" She gasped, as if extremely affronted. "We're gonna have one as soon as it snows!"

Loki nodded, unable to find it in himself to reject the offer. It sounded fun, and it would be the first time he played in the snow. He had the faintest memory of Goro building a small snowman with his mother, but that wasn't his.

Once again, he was seeking his own happiness. Since staying with the Niijima's, that had become a less foreign concept. Before this, everything had been for Goro. Loki never gave the idea a second thought. His purpose was protecting Goro. His happiness came from Goro being safe. He didn't need anything else.

But the idea of playing out in the snow with Makoto made his heart feel light. It was something to look forward to, compared to the dread he was used to constantly feeling. The chill of the snow against his skin, running around and laughing with Makoto after countless rounds of snowball fights – anticipation and desire mixed in his chest.

... Wanting something for himself wasn't bad, right?

His car door opened, snapping him out of his thoughts. Izumi stood outside, hand on the door, and fixed him with a small smile. The glow of the street light behind her illuminated her figure angelically. Basked in the light like this, she seemed divine.

She tilted her head slightly, a coy smile on her lips. "Want to cook with me again?"

And deciding that no, he could want things for himself, he nodded.