くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡
The young children who lived in town didn't know his story, and he preferred it that way.
As the kids played in the stream and chased each other around on their bikes, he would pass by with his shopping bags like a ghost.
Just another man with greying hair and weak knees.
The man would laugh to himself as he struggled up the hill to reach his house. He certainly wasn't as young and fit as he used to be. Not like those kids playing in the stream.
He had been like that once, though. Carefree with unbridled joy, splashing about with his best friend and brother.
The man lived in a quaint house with sliding doors, tatami mat floors and wooden beams atop a hill. Surrounded by a sea of his favourite flowers and tall, lush grass that swayed like fingers in the breeze.
On that hill, you could glimpse the ocean lapping against the cliff faces, and hear the squawks of salt-flaked birds calling overhead.
If you sat on the porch in the evening, the most perfect sunset would visit you and wrap you in a soft, warm blanket of orange and pink light. And those perfect sunsets visited the man every evening like an old friend.
The man politely crouched down to remove his worn shoes and slid open the front door. Inside, his favourite pair of slippers awaited him, along with the frilly smell of incense wafting in the air.
"Dad?" A voice called, "is that you?"
"It's me," the man chuckled, shuffling into the house. It was an open space, every room connected by thin doors and panels that allowed sunlight to seep in.
In the kitchen by the sink stood a man and a woman, both in their early twenties with healthy, glowing skin. The woman had a squirming bundle cradled to her chest, a babbling baby swathed in a yellow blanket.
"Hey, dad, let me give you a hand with those." The young man adjusted his glasses and stepped aside to help the older man. The son unpacked the groceries and filled the fruit bowl that lay centrepiece on the dining table.
"Thank you," the greying man smiled heartily, "how're you my dear? How's little Hinata?"
"Doing good, pops," the woman sighed tiredly, "this troublemaker wouldn't stop making noise until you came back."
"Hmmm," the older man stooped by and unsheathed the baby's face. Staring back at him was a pruny face, scrunched up and glaring. "So angry at the world, Small Fry. Just like your name-sake." He chuckled, allowing the baby's fist to wrap around his calloused pointer finger.
The house these people stood in was light and warm. Flowers in vases stood on every surface, and a wind chime by an open door tinkled.
This house was visibly full of love. Children's scribbles decorated the fridge, small trophies of academic achievement were kept in glass cabinets and many pairs of little shoes lay littered about like simple afterthoughts.
"Dad, I've already told you, I'm happy to make trips to the store," Small Fry's father said wearily, watching his old man settle into his armchair.
"Keeps me young," the older man waved off his concern, propping up his feet and parting a newspaper in-front of his face.
The man and woman shared a look, only to be interrupted by a cacophony of running feet.
"Papa! Papa!" Many children, with varying aesthetics and a range of ages flocked to the comfortable man. Teenagers, toddlers, middle-schoolers all crowded at his feet.
YOU ARE READING
Aniki // bnha x Bakugou!twin reader// ‼️Ended ‼️
Fanfiction"No matter what, I'm a brother first. And a proud one at that." Bakugou M/n is a wise boy and an even greater hero-to-be. however, he's got one loud ass brother to look after. but he's used to it, looking after everyone before himself. to the point...
