Chapter Text
It was a sunny day, a mild temperature, basically the most perfect day for outdoor activities anyone could ask for. That didn’t convince a certain pair to go outside for the time being. Being Ultimates was harder work than it was made out to be, even with the lack of a requirement to attend classes. When they did go to class, they had some work, but not tons. It was their reputations as the best in their fields that kept them busy. That work was the current subject of the inventor’s complaints.
“So much work, all the damn time! A beautiful genius such as myself shouldn’t have to bother with all this! Next on my to-do list should be a machine that does my work while I sleep! That’s what I’ll do! Maybe then I won’t always have to be so fucking busy!” Miu ranted to no one in particular, but she knew her partner and housemate was there and listening to her yelling. While he didn’t appear to be listening, his face half buried in one of his many books, it was clear that no matter what he was doing, his ears were tuned into what she had to say.
Korekiyo was the calm and collected of the two. While the constant workload seemed to drive Miu absolutely nuts, he never complained. It was hard to tell what it was he thought of it. Whenever asked, he’d always brush it off by saying he approached the work from a logical standpoint rather than an emotional one. His classmates determined it was code for some secret distaste and soon stopped asking.
The pair had an interesting dynamic. Korekiyo would be the reasonable logic to Miu’s eccentric ideals, and Miu would be the powerful energy to Korekiyo’s subtle calm. To most who saw them it would look like they would never fit together, but they complemented each other in small ways that made them harmonize at least a good portion of the time.
After a few minutes the anthropologist looked up from his book with a faint sigh, the universal sign that he was done working for now. A small bookmark was placed carefully in between the pages where he stopped as he put the book on top of a stack on the smooth wood desk he used for his studying when he wasn’t out in the field. He was, after all, still a student. He still needed a place to work besides the outside world.
There was a knock at the door. It was small and quiet, hard to hear unless you were listening for it. Korekiyo turned to Miu. “There’s someone at the door.” he said simply. He could’ve gotten it himself, and he might have too if it weren’t for his eerie aura. People tended to get frightened whenever he answered the door, so that became Miu’s job when they were both around despite her strong presence. He heard Gonta had a similar issue, but it was a bit more complicated since both he and Hoshi were intimidating in their own way.
“Alright, I got it.” Miu said breaking out of her rant almost immediately. Korekiyo could swear he heard Miu grumbling about who would be coming over at this time of day. He heard the door open and a few long moments of silence passed before he was finally addressed again. “Hey Shinguuji, I think you gotta see this!” Miu yelled from the door. The zipper of his mask shifted into a frown of confusion as he rose from his seat to join her by the door.
What was on the other side was a curious sight to say the least. There was a small child, six years old at most. He wore beat up white sneakers, grey pants that weren’t dark, but weren’t that light either, and a green turtleneck whose sleeves were way too long for his arms. His hair was a similar shade of green, accented by a streak of white on the right side. His eyes were mismatched, the right a dark grey, starkly contrasting with the bright red eye on the left, both slightly concealed by messy bangs. His expression was an almost startling level of neutral as if he was willing to accept whatever judgment was passed on him.
Miu looked up at Korekiyo. “He came with some note. Says his name’s Dam, he’s got nowhere to go, and for some reason or another we were chosen to care for the little thing. For some reason or another it said he barely says a damn word except to people he ‘opens his heart to’ or some crap like that.” she said, filling him in on the situation.
The anthropologist nodded thoughtfully. “It seems like we do not have much of a choice in the matter. I’m certain there is enough space to make the proper accommodations to fit his needs.” he mused. He was more than likely correct. The home they occupied had extra rooms, a couple of which haven’t found a use yet. Perhaps one of them could become a room for the child.
Having no counter argument, Miu let the kid inside and closed the door. Going over the house rules was quick and relatively painless despite making up almost all of them on the spot. Don’t go into Miu’s workshop, it’s dangerous. Don’t play with the artifacts in Korekiyo’s research room, that’s also dangerous. If you don’t know what something it, don’t put it in your mouth or try to play with it, ask if it’s safe first. It wasn’t long before they both became painfully aware of how dangerous their house was for a child.
Dam seemed to get the message to act with caution unless told otherwise. Maybe he got it a little too much, since he didn’t move from his spot for a solid minute. Korekiyo looked down at the child. “You aren’t required to stand in one place all the time. Make yourself comfortable with all the necessary precautions.” he said. The awkwardness was broken by a tiny nod and the sound of soft footsteps as the little boy walked off to carefully explore the house until he got his bearings.
The anthropologist and the inventor looked at each other. They didn’t have to say a word to know what the other was thinking. How on earth were they going to take care of this child? They had no experience to speak of. Without thinking twice Korekiyo returned to his mountain of books. Perhaps he’d find some ideas on how to handle children there. They’d need all the help they could find without bothering their classmates. Miu on the other hand disappeared down the hall, perhaps to make sure no uninvited guests enter her workshop.
This would surely be an adventure if nothing else.