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It was such an innocent question, one he should’ve felt honoured to be asked and more than happy to comply with. But with who he was, the situation they were all in, Naoto had no idea how impossible her request was. Aki looked at the soon to be eight year old; his daughter who didn’t even know he was her father, and wished more than anything he could’ve complied.
“Naoto, darling,” he sighed, “you know I can’t come to school with you.”
She pouted and Aki once again had to wonder how people ever managed to deny him anything, if Naoto had indeed inherited the gesture from him. “But it’s People Day…”
People Day, a day for the students to invite someone special, a parent or a person with significant meaning to them, to accompany them to school. It wasn’t too common a practice, but Aki had heard about it and always thought it sounded like a fun idea. Not much about education had been fun back when he was in elementary school. At least Naoto was more book smart than he’d been, and she honestly seemed to enjoy learning.
“Why don’t you ask your mother to come with you?” he suggested, tearing his thoughts from pondering and back to the topic at hand. “Or your father?”
He would never admit it, but saying the words left a slightly bad taste in his mouth. The older she got, the more Aki wished he could tell her the truth. But he’d promised Yuki never to try and take her husband’s place in Naoto’s life, and where he had once openly called Naoto his daughter in front of the girl, it seemed she’d been too young to remember it. Considering the fact that three years later neither media nor fans had picked up on her existence it was probably best for it to stay that way.
“They’re boring!” the young girl exclaimed. “Everybody’s gonna bring their mum or dad, who will all look the same in their stupid suits and ugly skirts and silly blouses!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Aki said sternly. “You shouldn’t talk like that, it’s not nice.”
In his head he added a note about how she clearly shouldn’t spend so much time with Kenzo either, because the words could just as well have rolled off his bitten lips, albeit then they would’ve been more colourful. Never the less, Aki took a few moments to scold his daughter, because no matter how much he loved the drummer he did not need his daughter to grow up quite as bratty.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Naoto sighed in defeat. “I just wanted to bring someone cool. You have tattoos and piercings and you play music. No one dresses as cool as you do, well Kenzo does but duh, and just…” She looked up to meet his eyes pleadingly. “Please be my person? Please, please, please?”
“Baby…” Aki sighed and pulled her up into his lap where they sat on the couch. Maybe an 8-year-old was too big to sit on your lap, but like Yuki Naoto was fairly small in build, even for her age. Besides, he liked having her close, and she had picked up on Kenzo’s cuddly traits over the years. “Even if I did come to school with you, we couldn’t tell them what I do anyway, remember?”
They’d had this conversation many times already, and Naoto sighed oh so similar to her biological father. “It’s stupid. Why can’t I tell my friends about you? They all think I’m boring when I can’t come and play.”
It was something Aki had not heard before, and it took some coaxing to get the story out of her. How she indeed kept her mouth shut about himself and Kenzo, and only ever told her friends she was busy when she came to visit the two of them. What had started out as a few times a year way back when, had with time shifted to about once a month. Naoto liked coming over; they played video games, ordered exotic take-out food, listened to music and sang along to KISS even when they didn’t know the lyrics, until Naoto couldn’t breathe she was laughing so hard at Kenzo’s poor vocal abilities. She had fun at their place, and Aki and Kenzo loved to have her there, but the prohibition to tell her friends anything about it apparently made her seem stuck up and boring in their eyes.
“You’re not boring, baby,” Aki whispered against her hair, an odd sense of guilt tugging at his chest. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but it’s for your own good. Do you trust me when I say that?” She nodded mutely, having heard the same thing before even when she didn’t fully understand the how’s and why’s. “Good. One day you’ll understand why, I promise you that.”
If Aki could’ve decided Naoto never would’ve had to understand, maybe that was why he put off telling her for so long she ultimately figured it out on her own.
- - -
“Aki…?”
Naoto sounded uncharacteristically insecure where she stood just inside the living room door, small feet shuffling over the hardwood floor. A few months after her 8th birthday she seemed to be growing more beautiful by the day, and Aki found himself harbouring fatherly feelings of ‘nobody touch’ he’d never imagined himself capable of. He turned back to the stove and the vegetables he was frying with a small sound to show he was listening. When a few minutes went by without Naoto speaking up again he sighed and pulled the vegetables to the side, deeming them practically done anyway.
“What’s up?” he asked and beckoned Naoto to join him at the kitchen table.
Worrying her lip in exactly the same way Kenzo was prone to, the child finally looked up and met his eyes. “Are you famous?”
He knew it shouldn’t have surprised him, and truth be told the question made him upset more than anything. Not at Naoto, she could be a queen baby bitch when she wanted to, but she hardly ever managed to make Aki angry or upset with her. Instead the emotions he felt were directed at himself, for putting the two of them in such a situation.
“Why do you ask that baby?” The words escaped him before he’d had time to properly process them, and he wanted to kick himself for avoiding the subject once more. Or trying to at least, there was a determination in Naoto’s eyes he wasn’t sure he could get around.
“I’ve seen you,” she said and the unimpressed pout told Aki once and for all she wanted answers this time. He just wished he knew which answers to give. “And Mao too, I see Mao a lot.”
“Where do you see me and Mao?” In a way it seemed a silly question, there were about a thousand different places she could’ve seen the two of them. Maybe he simply didn’t want to give out more information than he had to, Aki honestly didn’t know. At times he’d asked himself why he was so reluctant to tell Naoto about his career, it wasn’t like he was ashamed of it after all, but he’d never been able to find a good answer.
“There are loads of pictures of you at the bookstore,” she said, brows furrowed as she tried to remember all of it. There was a spot on the left side of her lower lip that already looked raw, and Aki knew that she’d end up having lips like Kenzo’s, unless she developed a lip gloss addiction or something in a few years. Not that lip gloss had ever stopped the drummer from biting his lips, so maybe she was doomed for real. “Sometimes I see you on TV too,” Naoto continued. “Mao looks pretty on TV. They keep saying he’s so pretty even though he’s old.”
A small laughter escaped Aki at that. Trust Naoto to pick up on that detail, because it was very much true. All the young MCs, males and females alike, could not stop gushing over Mao’s seemingly immortal beauty. Past 35 years old he was still considered one of the prettiest men in jrock. Then again, Aki had his fair share of admires as well. Not to mention Kenzo, who still refused to acknowledge his own stunning looks.
“So you know, huh?” mentioned drummer said from the doorway, clearly having overheard the conversation and decided to butt in. Aki wasn’t sure if it was bad or not, cause Kenzo had been telling him to tell Naoto about them for a while already. “About Aki and SID?”
If the band name was familiar to her Naoto didn’t show it. Instead her eyes narrowed as she peered over her shoulder at Kenzo, followed him as he ventured into the kitchen, spun a chair around, and sat down on it backwards. His fingers began tap dancing across the wood, drumming out random intricate patterns when they were not allowed to occupy themselves with nicotine and tar.
“I’ve seen you too, you know,” the girl pouted and blew a coil of chocolaty hair out of her eyes. “And Yumehito! He’s crazy on TV…”
She trailed off as if thinking about some episode she’d seen, and Kenzo grinned like a fool as they watched her chuckle to herself at whatever was playing before her eyes. “Yume’s always crazy,” the drummer said. “You know that baby.”
“Crazy famous?” Naoto inquired, and there was more to the question than two simple words. She was smart, more so than Aki would’ve ever believed a daughter of his could be, and it was obvious she was trying to connect all the loose dots she’d found floating around, make a pattern in order to understand.
“More like famously crazy,” Kenzo said affectionately. It was no secret he loved the younger vocalist to bits and pieces, had since shortly after Yumehito joined AYABIE. If nothing else, then because Yume allowed Kenzo to be almost as clingy cuddle touchy as he wanted to be.
“Aki is crazy famous,” he went on and made the bassist blanch and utter a shocked, “Kenzo!”
“Come on baby,” Kenzo turned his attention towards his long term lover, “we knew this would happen sooner or later.”
“That what would happen?” Naoto demanded, then repeated the question twice over while the couple ignored her in favour of a staring competition. She didn’t understand it, but the two of them were having a full conversation the way only they could, something that’d freaked their friends out for years. “Aki,” she whined. “What is it that has happened?”
Finally Aki sighed and took pity on his daughter. Turning towards her he met eyes almost identical to his own and licked his lips. “Yes baby,” he started shakily, “I am famous.”
Slowly he told her the full story of who he was and what he did, about SID and why he sometimes disappeared for months on end to be on tour and play in front of people. He explained how many of the CDs in his bookshelf were actually by his own band, and why he kept more bass guitars than anyone needed throughout his flat. Naoto’s eyes grew larger and larger, and when Aki finally fell silent she just stared at him for long moments.
“So why is there a drum kit in the living room?” she asked, seemingly acceptant of everything she’d just been told.
“That would be mine baby,” Kenzo laughed, then caved under the childishly upset pout and told his own story, with a few interferences from Aki when he nearly went too far. Some things an eight year old simply did not need to know. “So you see,” he concluded, “we’re all famous; me and Aki, and most of our friends.”
They could almost see the cogwheels turning inside Naoto’s head, strings connecting all the little dots she’d gathered over who knew how long a time. Yuki’d said it years ago already, and Naoto had proved it herself many times over; she was a clever girl.
“That’s why you can’t come to school on People Day.” It wasn’t a question and Aki only nodded, another pang of guilt hitting him at the look of final understanding on his daughter’s face. “Why didn’t you say so! If you’re famous, then people could recognise you and go all crazy, I wouldn’t want that!”
“Yes Aki,” the look on Kenzo’s face screamed ‘I told you so’ even when he didn’t say a word, or not those words at least. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
The bassist sighed and threw his arms in the air, a short helpless laughter escaping him. How he put up with the two of them on most days was beyond even his own understanding. “I don’t know baby. I guess I was afraid of how you’d react. Or that you’d run to your friends and tell them.”
He knew, the moment the words left his mouth that he’d regret them, and true enough Naoto looked hurt at hearing it. “You don’t trust me?” she asked with all the naïve honesty of a child her age.
Kenzo looked like he might murder him and tilted his head sharply in Naoto’s direction, a silent demand Aki go fix the mess he’d just made. Not that the bassist needed any urging on, he was already out of his chair and lifting Naoto out of hers before sitting them both down on it again, his daughter on his lap. She didn’t object and Aki loved how easily she still fit in his embrace.
“Of course I trust you Naoto,” he said and meant every word of it. He did trust her, but he also knew that kids were kids, and kids talked. They lacked the sinister intentions of adults talking behind each other’s backs, but the naïve chitchat of children had caused a lot of harm for a lot of people.
“But you never tell me anything,” she said, something a bit too close to real sadness for both the adults’ liking seeping into her voice. “You didn’t tell me you’re famous, you won’t tell me you’re my dad, and you always tell me I can’t come visit, but never why.”
The kitchen had gone dead silent at her words, not even the eerie sound of a dripping tap like there always was in the movies, and Naoto looked up at Aki. “What?” she went on. “You thought I wouldn’t figure it out? I look more like you than dad, and why else would you want me to come here all the time, huh? I’m not stupid, Aki.”
“I know you’re not baby,” he said and hugged her close to his body, spoke into her hair as he tried to come to terms with another wave of guilt. He really was not good at the whole child raising thing most of the time. “I know you’re not. Fuck, you’re probably the smartest kid I’ve ever met, and it sure ain’t thanks to me.”
“You shouldn’t swear,” Naoto chastised, much like Aki would at her when she took after Kenzo, but there was a definite smile in her voice and she cuddled closer, greedy for the offered affection. “But I’m right; you are my dad, aren’t you?”
A pair of warm brown eyes, definitely his, met Aki’s, but the way she worried her lip was all Kenzo. Aki swallowed back a sigh, or maybe a groan, and wished he and Yuki would’ve had the sense to talk about this situation potentially arising. He’d made a promise to Yuki, one he had never intended to break, but he wasn’t about to lie to his daughter’s face when she asked him a direct question. He couldn’t.
“Yes baby,” he confirmed and pushed a coil of hair behind her ear affectionately, only for her to shiver violently at the ticklish feeling and repeat the action herself. “I am your dad.”
She smiled and wound her little arms around his neck, whispering, “You’re a pretty kickass dad.”
There were actual tears in Aki’s eyes as he met Kenzo’s black gaze over the corner of the table. The drummer knew how badly Aki had wanted Naoto to know the truth, a desire that only seemed to grow with each year, and it was obvious in the way he hugged her even closer to his chest and swallowed repeatedly. It wasn’t often he got so overwhelmed with emotions and Kenzo knew he would’ve felt misplaced in the scenery only a few years previous. As it was, however, he knew he belonged in this somewhat fucked up family picture. He also knew that right then he, of all people, needed to be the voice of reason.
“Baby,” he said softly and had both of them turn their, somewhat reluctant, attention to him. It made him smile lopsidedly, the ups and downs of using the same pet name for more than one person. “Now do you understand why you can’t talk about Aki and me in school?”
She nodded quickly. “You’re famous and,” she turned back to Aki, “famous people aren’t supposed to have kids, right?”
“Not unless they’re married to their mother, no,” he agreed. A sad truth but a truth nonetheless, one that made Naoto scrunch up her nose.
“You can’t be married to mum! Mum’s married to dad!” Then she blinked almost stupidly and groaned. “This is getting confusing.”
Kenzo laughed out loud at that, “You don’t say!”, and Aki shook his head, smiling against it all. The situation, to him, was not so much confusing as it was fucked up, but unlike his lover he knew not to use that phrasing around their daughter. Naoto tended to copy Kenzo’s foul language a bit too much sometimes and Yuki had threatened to castrate him, or at least that was the general interpretation of it, when she’d heard it. Aki was rather determined to only have one person in the family get kicked out of school because of bad behaviour, and Kenzo already filled in that slot so there was no room for Naoto.
“Do you love your dad?” he asked, trying to get his mind back on topic in an attempt to work out the knots of confusion tangling up his daughter’s mind.
“Of course I do!” she said in a near offended tone. “Or… Are you talking about yourself or dad now?”
As young as she was she groaned in frustration and buried her head against Aki’s shoulder, muttering a string of words not becoming of her age about how things were “fucking mental”. Kenzo nodded approvingly and didn’t look half as sympathetic as Aki would’ve liked him to, if anything he looked somewhat amused by it all.
“Does it matter which dad?” the bassist questioned softly, and to his great relief Naoto shook her head no. “Good. I was talking about your ‘old dad’, mum’s husband. He’s been a good father, right?”
Naoto nodded again. “He works a lot,” she said. “But he’s the best dad ever, no offense. He’s not like Taka’s dad who hits him, or Maiko’s who always forgets her birthday. He’s kind and he takes care of me, he comes to school with me and lets me bring friends home, he buys me cake and toys, and he’s kind to mum too. She loves him, I can tell, and I love him too.”
Aki nodded contentedly, liking every word spilling past his clever daughter’s lips. “He’s been a good father to you all your life,” he agreed. “Long before I was, but I don’t know if you remember that.” Naoto gave a shrug as if to say it didn’t really matter. “I don’t want you to treat him differently, you know. You’re the only daughter he’s got, and he loves you like his own.”
“I am his,” she agreed, then cracked a grin. “I’m just very lucky, I get three cool dads!”
Behind her back, Kenzo completely lost his face to shocked surprise, then melted entirely under the sudden emotional wave washing over him. Aki saw it and he understood completely. “Was that a compliment for me, little one?” the drummer asked huskily, trying not to let the emotions shine through too much.
“You’re so not one to call me little,” Naoto replied and stuck her tongue out at him. “But yeah, you’re sort of like a dad too, since you’re always here and practically married to Aki anyway.” Her face twisted into a pondering grimace and Kenzo tried to mumble a warning as he saw where her thoughts were going, but it was too late. “If you’re practically married to my dad, wouldn’t that make you my mum though?”
She was up and out of Aki’s lap before Kenzo had the time to shout “Why you little-“, and the chase was on. Aki howled with laughter and watched the two of them dash around the room for a few minutes. Only then did he remember the dinner he’d abandoned earlier, and still chuckling he went to see what could be done about the vegetables still.
- - -
A few hours later Naoto was on the couch, claiming to watch cartoons but really gaming away on Kenzo’s old PSP. She was way too good for her age, but Aki assumed that with the company she’d grown up in it was inevitable. He stood watching her from the doorway, thinking back on the day’s events as Kenzo sneaked up to his side ad wrapped a toned arm around him.
“Did I officially get a daughter today?” he whispered, deep voice ghosting over Aki’s shoulder and causing the older to shiver slightly. He nodded slowly and felt bitten lips stretch in a smile. “All things considered I’d say today went pretty well.”
Aki had to agree. They’d spoken more over dinner, and then dessert as Naoto pulled puppy dog eyes until she got vanilla ice cream with strawberry sauce and chocolate covered animal crackers. Explained why Aki hadn’t been around from the beginning, a thing Naoto took exceptionally well, and she’d asked about what it was like to be famous, go on tour and record CDs. She’d promised, once more, to keep it all a secret, and then they’d watched one of the SID live DVDs, and Aki’d squirmed slightly when she giggled as he took off his shirt on stage. But she seemed to understand, and be okay, with all of it.
“There’s one thing though,” he mumbled, unwilling to disturb the currently mostly peaceful girl. “I need to tell Yuki she knows…”
“Have fun with that,” Kenzo said flatly. His relationship with Yuki was somewhat frosty, even if it had improved over the past year. “When will you do it?”
“I was thinking about calling her now, actually,” he admitted. “Will you keep an eye on Naoto, make sure she doesn’t go into the bedroom?”
The drummer nodded and kissed his shoulder, still as affectionate as ever after so many years. “Don’t let her put you down, you broke no promise. You can’t help baby’s much smarter than you are.”
“Brat,” he muttered and rewarded his lover with a sharp tug on his long hair. The responding protest was silenced in a kiss however. He shoved the smaller man into the living room and went to walk the other way himself, grabbing the wireless phone on the way. The last thing Aki heard before closing the bedroom door was Naoto’s voice;
“Zo, will you teach me to drum?”
“I thought you’d never ask baby.”