#whether intentionally arranged by whatever authority's in scala

[corishadowfang]

            I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.

            The thought came quiet as Brain, very carefully, held his newborn daughter to his chest.  She was…so much smaller than he’d expected her to be.  She was still awake, only making a few quiet noises of protest as she stared up at her father, and it felt like something was cracking through the barriers he’d been so careful to put up.

            He didn’t know if he knew how to be a father.  He knew how to navigate Scalan politics, now—knew the right things to say at the right times, the people to argue with and the people who would be more willing to help if he agreed with them, the people to make connections with outside Scalan’s inner circle to help keep the higher ups off his back.  He knew how to fight Heartless, and discretely keep an eye out for Darkness, and utilize his sources to try and figure out how and when disaster would strike next.  (Because it would.  He knew it would.  Daybreak Town had never been enough for it—and he wouldn’t let himself fail a second time.)

            But this was—this was new.  This was something he’d never spent time cultivating the skills for—something he’d never planned on.  Something that felt…strangely terrifying, and reminded him, painfully, of the other kids he’d never been able to keep safe.  (He wondered, distantly, if things would’ve been different if Daybreak Town hadn’t fallen—if he and his friends had managed to hold onto each other, and build lives together outside the Keyblade War.  It was a painful thought, though, and he brushed it off as not worth thinking about, even if it left a lump in his throat.)

            A quiet noise of protest drew his attention, and he blinked out of his thoughts.  His daughter waved her hands up at him, making a face that looked distinctly like a pout, and despite himself, he found his expression softening.  “You’d probably be happier if you went to sleep,” he whispered.  “Suppose you get that from me.”

            Another whine, like she was offended, and he huffed a quiet laugh.  “Right.  Sorry.”  He shifted her a bit, and wasn’t even entirely sure if he was holding her right, but she seemed more content with the new position, her quiet protests dying away.  Hope you don’t take after me too much, he thought, painfully bittersweet.  Don’t think we need two of us.

            His daughter quieted, finally slipping into sleep, and Brain’s throat tightened a bit.  “I don’t really know what I’m doing, kid,” he whispered, “but I’ll…try my best not to fuck you up too much.  Alright?”

            He’d just…have to hope that was enough.