5 PM. Saturday evening. Rain pelted down against the windowpanes of the Hikigaya household. Oddly enough, the usually lively household of the Hikigaya family was muted today. Two occupants were missing, one gone out to do groceries, the other stuck at school attending to some club business.

The house was mostly dark, the lights in the kitchen and living room being the sole source of illumination. Apart from the pattering of rain, the only sounds in the house were the hum of a kotatsu, and the sound of scritching from a pencil. The owner of the pencil, one Hikigaya Yukiyo, had her eyebrows scrunched in determination, while her father, one Hikigaya Hachiman, lounged languidly on the nearby sofa, eyes glued to his beloved Vita-chan. His smartphone, long dead, lay uselessly next to him.

~Round Clear!~

With a sigh of boredom, Hikigaya Hachiman shut off his game and placed it to the side (not without saving it, of course). Lazily, he closed his eyes, preparing for an evening nap. A genuine rarity, considering his work schedule and nagging wife.

Saturdays really were the best, he thought blissfully.

Scrich scritch. Rub rub. Scritch.

Ahh…

Rub rub rub.

Peace and quie…

Rub. RRrriiiiiippp.

Cursing the gods above for his ill luck, Hachiman opened one eye in mild irritation at the noise. The 6 year old (or 6 and a half, as she liked to assert) was glaring at her ripped notebook, tears of anger and frustration forming in her eyes.

Despite himself, Hachiman struggled to hide a smile as his heart melted. Time for Papa Hachiman to play the big hero.

"Yo, Yuki." Mentally he snickered to himself, although secretly he missed the two accompanied groans that usually followed. "Everything all right?"

"Yukiyo is fine."

Odd, Hachiman thought. Yukiyo had never been this curt. Was she frustrated? Possibly. She did had a bad habit of doing things by herself, and refused to ask others for any help. Perhaps genetic, inherited from her mother's side? He looked down at the workbook.

Ah. Math. The Achilles Heel of one too many Hikigaya. This was his chance to break that bad habit of hers.

"Doesn't look like it." He plopped himself down diagonal from her, attempting to look over her problem. "You know, while Mama may be the expert in math, (and everything else, he added mentally with reluctance,) Daddy isn't that bad."

"Yukiyo don't need your help."

"Are you sure?" he said as he attempted to pull the book towards himself, before it was snatched away by Yukiyo.

"Go away! You're annoying! Yukiyo can do it all by herself. Leave!"

Hachiman recoiled internally, although he didn't show it on the outside. It was time to teach her a lesson.

"Fine. Suit yourself." His mouth thinned, lips tightened. His eyebrows furrowed angrily. He got up, and headed to the open doorway of the living room, into the rest of the dark house.

Pausing, he looked back at the still defiant eyes of Yukiyo, although they were now mixed with a hint of fear and shame. Then he turned,grabbed his phone, and with a calculated amount of force, shut the door behind him.

Hikigaya Yukiyo, like her brother, was a sweet child. She was rare to get angry, was popular with her class, and had the most radiant smile plastered on her face nearly 24/7. However, she was somewhat of a daddy's girl. See, the dynamics of the Hikigaya household worked like this: while all four members loved each other equally, Yukiyo was a daddy's girl, while her brother was a mama's boy.

So when she blurted out her frustrations at her poor father, she slowly realized she may have hurt her papa. And she didn't want to hurt her papa. Her papa was never angry. He was a sweet papa. A loving papa. A happy papa. The papa who bought her toys, took her out to eat ice cream, tucked her in and came to her school events no matter how busy he was, and always gave the bestest, warmest hugs. She-

Drip.

She had to-

Drip. Drip.

"…apologize." Her voice came out in a soft whisper. Her eyes were scrunched up, brows furrowed similar to her father. She could not cry, she told herself. She was a big girl. Big girls don't cry.

(Of course, the tears streaming from the sides of her eyes begged to differ).

She got up from the kotatsu, and ran to the door.

"Papa!"

Opening the door, she met darkness. Not a sight could be seen, even with the light from the room emanating behind her.

"Pa…pa?"

Yukiyo wasn't afraid of much, but this did not apply to darkness. Especially since she had secretly watched a scary movie on TV when she was supposed to be sleeping.

Creak.

Yukiyo froze. It came from above. Near the steps. She tried looking up, but couldn't see anything.

"Papa?" The tone in her voice was a little more frightened. The tears she had forced to stop began welling in her eyes again, this time out of fear.

Ding. The sound of the microwave went off. But no one was in the kitchen. She knew, because if someone was in the kitchen, the light had to be on. Mama told her so.

The creaking grew louder. She shrieked and ran back to the kotatsu, diving underneath it. The muffled thumps of footsteps grew louder and louder.

It was a ghost! Yukiyo thought to herself. A ghost from the movie! The ghost that ate little girls! But papa would beat it up. Her papa could beat anyone. Except…

Her papa was angry with her.

"…Yukiyo's sorry papa." Yukiyo whispered to herself. She kept repeating it, like a sort of prayer, hoping the footsteps would go away. They only increased in volume.

"I'm Sorry Papa." Yukiyo repeated, louder this time. The ghost was in the room with her now. It was going to eat her too! If her papa were here, the ghost would be too scared and leave.

But he wasn't here. And it was HER fault.

The footsteps stopped in front of her. A flash of lightning, accompanied with the boom of thunder. The lights went out. Two soft thuds above her. She immediately went still. Maybe if she was really quiet, the ghost would leave.

The flaps of the kotatsu opened. She screamed, trying to get away from the hands that reached for her. But they were too quick, and grabbed her. She squirmed, but the hands were too strong.

It's over, she thought, resignedly. The ghost is going to eat me.

However…

Ghosts are supposed to be cold. This ghost is warm, she thought dimly.

Then another flash of lightning. The lights came back on. Slowly, she realized that she was pressed against a chest. A chest she knew really well. And a smell. Papa's cologne. She looked up. Her father's face looked down at her, worry and alarm reflected in his eyes.

"Are you ok?! What's the matter?"

The dam that were her tear ducts was close to bursting.

"Papa…you big idiot! I thought you were gone…and and I tried to see where you were… and and the microwave…and…"

The dam burst.

"WAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Still a bit shocked, Hachiman could only stroke his daughter's hair and continue to hold her tightly. He hadn't meant to leave her for long. He simply had to go upstairs to charge his phone and check his mail.

"Shh…It's all right. Papa's here."

Muffled sobs, laden with fear, anger, shame and frustration, returned his consoling.

"You know…Papa didn't mean to be gone for so long. Papa's sorry. Were you afraid?"

An obvious question, but judging by the lessened sobbing, it seemed to ease her, at least slightly.

"Were you afraid of the dark?"

A nod.

Hachiman pulled her away from him, gently brushing the tears with his hand. While she was still crying, the vast majority of tears seemed to have stopped. Her lower lip still trembled though, an endearing sight.

"Here. Papa made you some milk. It's your favorite. Two scoops of sugar, one scoop of sweet cream, a dash of spice, a-"

"-and chocolate in between." Yukiyo smiled amidst tears and finished the nonsensical poem. Like her father, she had an immense sweet tooth.

The two sat in silence. Both sipping from their respective mugs. He with his instant coffee, she with her specialized drink. The drink helped to calm her down.

"Papa…I'm sorry." Her head was cast down, face unrecognizable. Hachiman quirked an eyebrow at the change in the way she referred to herself.

"Yukiyo. Raise your head." She stiffened, but slowly brought her head up. She tried reading her father's expression, but nothing was written on his face.

A flash of pain. She yelped, rubbing her forehead. Hachiman had just flicked her forehead.

"That's your punishment for yelling at your father."

"Sorry…" she muttered.

His face softened. He brought himself closer to his daughter.

"It's ok to get angry. But you have to learn not to speak like that to your parents. Ok?"

She nodded again.

He sighed, and continued.

"The world is not very nice. People do things that make themselves happy. One day, when you enter the real world, you too will have to do things too, that make you happy, but others sad. But you have to realize, you can't do everything on your own. It's ok to ask for help. No one's going to make fun of you for it."

He smiled wryly. "You know, you're just like Papa in that regard."

She looked at him, wonder in her eyes. "Really?"

"Really. Papa was soo bullheaded, just like you. Only difference is, he had Mama and Auntie Yui to help him out with that. But you, you're lucky. You have me, Mama, your brother, Auntie Yui, your friends, and SOOO many others to help you. Papa's actually jealous."

She giggled at the mock scowl that crossed his face. He smiled in return.

"Don't tell Mama I told you that though. Promise?"

"Promise."

Silence once more. This time, the atmosphere was more content.

Hachiman stood up, stretching his arms. He collected the cups, and was about to head to the kitchen to wash them, before a tug at his pants stopped him. He looked down, surprised.

"Can you help me, please?" Her face faced the ground, her shoulders bunched up together. She looked fragile, almost afraid of his answer.

He smiled.

"Of course."

Hi everyone, Rangatang here with another chapter.

This one is a bit longer, and a bit different. I saw a gif of Rumi, and envisioned Hachiman and Yukino's daughter. So I had to write a chapter based off of that. It's set in a rainy setting, as suggested by one reviewer. Again thanks for the suggestions! I loved them all!

The age had me confused, but what the hey. 6 is a pretty malleable age. Edited this because I felt 7 was too old. 6 is pretty young though. 6 it shall be!

Hope you like this chapter! Yukiyo (perhaps Yukio is the male form?), after doing some research, means both snow or luck. I'm assuming this is based off of the way you read the kanji. It's both a girl's name and a guy's name (according from the website I pulled the name from), but isn't that common. Huh.

Thanks for all the reviews and suggestions! It really keeps me motivated. Keep em' coming!

I want to do a chapter with Yukino and the mysterious son, deviate from Hachiman a bit. I have other ideas as well...

Not sure when I'll next update, but hopefully it will be soon!

Bye for now!

Rangatang

(then and than is my achilles heel...)