𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫 || ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ

Pt: 80 - Homecoming

He rolled his eyes with dramatic exaggeration, muttering something under his breath just as a new set of footsteps came stomping down the staircase behind him.

They were heavier, faster, and more eager.

"Honey! It's been almost an hour. When is my little girl comin'—" your dad's voice boomed mid-sentence before it halted completely.

His feet stopped abruptly at the second-to-last step. You looked up and there he was.

And there you were.

For a moment, the two of you just stared. Him, wide-eyed and motionless, like someone had hit pause on his whole body.

You, smiling warmly, holding a bunch of gift bags hovering slightly off your wrists with your Quirk.

Hasuke stepped aside silently, already grinning, fully aware of what was about to happen.

"Hi, Daddy," you said, that soft voice of yours breaking the silence.

And just like that, he unfroze.

"PRINCESS!" he cried out like a man who had just been reunited with something long lost.

He rushed down the last two steps and threw his arms around you in a full-force fatherly embrace, one so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of you.

The presents in your hands jutted awkwardly over his back as you tried to hold them out of the way.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you!" he said into your hair, squeezing like he didn't want to let go.

His arms were strong and warm, just like always.

You chuckled softly, voice slightly breathy from the pressure of his hug. "I missed you, too, Dad."

Over his shoulder, you shot a look toward Hasuke, raising your brow in a silent help me out here.

He sighed, but walked over and started taking the bags one by one from your arms. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, grabbing the floating gift handles and heading toward the living room, where the familiar twinkle of the Christmas tree lights blinked softly.

Meanwhile, your dad still hadn't let up.

"It's been so long, I thought you left me forever!" he groaned dramatically, giving you another hard squeeze for emphasis.

You let out a small oof, patting his back. "Yeah, I get it, Dad, but you're squishing me."

"Oh! Right—sorry about that," he said, finally easing his grip and pulling back. His hands came to rest gently on your shoulders, his big palms warm through the fabric of your sweater.

You took a deep breath, grateful to have full lung capacity again.

"It's just so exciting seeing my little girl again," he said, his voice a bit more tender now, eyes glassy with warmth.

You smiled, one hand reaching up to rest over his hand that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze in return.

"Well, I'm here now," you said, your smile softening into something more emotional.

Before he could respond, a familiar voice drifted in from the kitchen.

"About time, Peach."

You could already picture the look on her face before she even walked in—cool, composed, smugly amused like she somehow knew exactly how long you and your dad had been frozen at the entryway.

Sure enough, Kiara stepped into view, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, the scent of simmering rice drifting behind her like a trail.

You turned toward her, and her lips curled just slightly at the edges.