❝ 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘨 . ❞ [ MHA x reader one-shots ]

"my little (y/n)" | kai chisaki platonic fluff

prompt: Kai spends some quality time with his five-year-old daughter

warning: none

word count: 1154

.・-: ✧ :-　first-person point of view: kai chisaki　-: ✧ :-・．

After placing the thin piece of paper on top of the others, I was finally done with work for the day. Anything else that came up would have to wait, I had more important plans today. I left my office without a second thought to head down the halls and find her room. I unlocked the door and opened it to find her occupying herself with a book on her bed. Upon hearing the door open she looked up and grinned.

"Papa!" She cheered and bounded into my arms to hug me tight. I felt myself smile, a rare occurrence.

"Hello, (Y/n)," I greeted, patting her head softly. "How was your day?"

"It was good!" (Y/n) said while letting go of me. "I started a new book today!"

"That sounds nice," I said as she showed me the cover of the children's book with great enthusiasm. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes!" (Y/n) said, her (e/c) eyes sparkling just a bit with excitement. She pranced over to slip on her shoes and get her coat. I helped her tuck her little arms into the jacket and zip it up for her. I picked her up in my arms before leaving the room and heading for the exit of the building. I always tried to keep (Y/n) somewhat nearby during work hours, just in case. I found keeping her as close as possible was a better alternative to throwing her away. Although I did make an attempt to keep her existence somewhat hidden, for obvious reasons.

Many would see (Y/n) as a way to get to me. Perhaps it wasn't such a wise idea to have, or keep, a daughter like her. However, I would find it near impossible to send her away, especially after the five or so years I've spent raising her. She was an angel; so pure, innocent, and beautiful. Some might even say it would be a shame to bring up such a sweet thing in the way of life I've found myself in. Regardless, I'm not letting (Y/n) go anywhere I am not.

"What are we gonna do today?" (Y/n) asked, propping her head on my shoulder as I walked.

"You're in need of some new clothes, aren't you?"

"I've grown ten whole centimeters this week!" Little (Y/n) exclaimed. "Uncle Hari helped me measure it!"

"That's quite a lot," I told her, amused by how proud she was. "How old are you again?"

"Five and three-quarters," She stated very boastfully, holding up five fingers, plus one finger she bent down to represent the three-quarters.

"Of course," I ruffled her neat (h/c) hair. "You're growing fast."

"I'm gonna grow to be ten-hundred centimeters when I'm a grown-up," (Y/n) said, putting extra emphasis on the number. I chuckled lightly, allowing her to hold onto such childish fantasies for the time being. (Y/n) always had an active imagination, something she no doubt received from her mother and not myself. Soon enough, we found ourselves at the children's store (Y/n)'s mother would often take her to in order to replace the garments (Y/n) somehow managed to ruin. I had set her down on her own two feet once we entered the store. Her small hand curled around mine as we ventured through racks of clothes.

"What about this?" (Y/n) asked when she pulled a brightly colored dress from the rack. Due to the fact that I had to squint when looking at the article of clothing, I suggested,

"How about we pick something else?" (Y/n) easily bounced back to looking after carefully placing the hanger back onto the rack. She always handled being told no surprisingly well for a five-year-old. Yet another trait courtesy of her mother.

After a while of searching, (Y/n) had given me a handful of "keepers." They were soon piled into bags after I paid for them. (Y/n) vehemently insisted that she carries at least one of the bags, and naturally, I gave her the lighter one so she wouldn't be huffing and puffing all the way home. She smiled and we left. I could see her mother in the way (Y/n) walked; upright, cheerful, and carefree. Some days I am truly glad she takes so much after her, while on the other hand, her resemblance brings back all the memories of the woman I loved...

It feels like it was longer ago than it really was, but the pain of losing her still stings harshly. (Y/n) is growing into the spitting image of her mother, not only physically, but in her attitude and intelligence. I wish her mother was still here to help me raise her, heaven knows I am sometimes lost when it comes to raising a little girl all by myself. Hari often assists me, but he doesn't know much more than I do when it comes to parenthood. I suppose there is some room for error here and there, but that doesn't make the task any less terrifying or difficult.

What kind of father would a "villain" like myself be? The things I've done make it hard to think I would ever be prepared or qualified to have the life of such a fragile child in my hands, not to mention the responsibility of properly preparing her to be an adult one day. Her mother would've done such a better job at teaching (Y/n) and helping her grow into the woman she'll one day be. I constantly fear I'm doing something wrong, which is a feeling I've never experienced before.

"Papa, look!" (Y/n) suddenly cheered, pointing in the direction of a quaint man selling ice cream. "Can we get some ice cream? Please!"

"I don't see any harm in it," I said as we made our way over to the man. (Y/n) took some time bouncing between flavors until ultimately deciding on one. (Y/n)'s face lit up when the man handed her the ice cream cone. She politely thanked him before digging in. I took the shopping bag she was holding, now carrying both in one hand. (Y/n)'s non-dominant hand grabbed mine again, as the other held her frozen treat. (Y/n) was joyful as we walked home.

What did I do to deserve such a pure ray of sun in my dark life? She was everything I wasn't. Her (e/c) eyes were filled with hope and optimism as they looked out into the world. Her small arms would hug any man, woman, or child regardless of who they were; her kindness was one of her defining traits, just like her mother. I want her to keep her soft, compassionate, kind, and innocent self. The sound of her rich laughter is priceless, and the sight of her smile gives me a sense of warmth and wholeness. It is moments like these that reaffirm my convictions. I will make the world a better place. Not for myself, or for a vow to someone long since dead.

I will cure the world for the one pure thing in it: my little (Y/n).