Chapter Text
A couple of days after Minato was adopted, his new dad came home with a big stack of books on child rearing.
Minato had noticed pretty much right away that the man he’d been told to address as Father was not at all used to kids. Anya was a pretty normal 6-ish-year-old child; energetic, distractible, emotional, imaginative, and curious. Which meant she could be a handful, constantly running around and getting into everything. Father always seemed to be struggling to manage her, so Minato did his part to help, like holding Anya’s hand when they went out so she couldn’t run off.
Minato had certainly had his share of caretakers who had no idea how to look after kids. But more often than not, they didn’t even care to try. Too many of the people he’d ended up with did the bare minimum to meet his basic needs, not even bothering to try and be better. Father was at least trying. So Minato decided to help out with that, too. He might not know everything about child rearing, but there were definitely a few things he’d wished his caretakers had known.
His first opportunity came one morning when Father was trying to read the newspaper. Anya ran over to him, crying, “Papa! Come play with us!”
Father glanced over at her and said, “Not now Anya, I’m busy. Go play with your brother.” Then he turned back to his paper.
Undaunted, Anya clung to his leg and insisted, “But aliens are invading the city! Mina can’t fight them all alone! We need your help!” Father looked down at her, frowning slightly, though it was hard to tell if he was irritated or confused. Possibly both.
Minato could see where Anya was coming from, but clearly Father didn’t. So Minato decided to translate. He headed over to the pair and said, “She’s bored. She needs stuff to do. Books, toys, games, whatever.”
Father looked up at Minato, then glanced at Anya’s chimera plush on the couch, which was the only toy in the house. “I see,” Father said thoughtfully. “Yes, that does make sense.” He looked back at his paper, then folded it up and set it aside. Standing with a smile, he said, “Well then, why don’t we all go somewhere fun?”
He brought them to the library. Which might not be everyone’s idea of fun, but Minato didn’t mind. And once they got to the children’s section, Anya wasted no time in running around and picking out a stack of comics and picture books to take home.
Minato was content to just sit and watch her, until Father urged, “Why don’t you pick out something for yourself?” So Minato nodded and went into the stacks to look for something.
The picture books wouldn’t interest him for long, so he headed for the novels. But when he tried opening one up and skimming through it, he found there were too many words he just didn’t know how to read yet. He might be intelligent enough to understand books of this level, but he didn’t know the language well enough yet. So he needed to find something else.
Maybe he should start with some of the shorter chapter books, the ones aimed at kids who were his physical age. But as he headed for those, he ended up passing the nonfiction section. That caught his attention; maybe he should try reading some of those, to learn more about this world and see how similar it was to his old one. So he started skimming through the shelves.
Most of the science books looked familiar, though the technology was behind what he was used to. Math looked to be the same, too. But geography was different, depicting several countries he’d never heard of. He couldn’t even tell which country he was currently in.
He debated picking up a book on countries of the world, but wondered whether he would be considered strange for choosing that as pleasure reading. Yet before he could come to a decision, his eye caught on something far more familiar. The cover of the book was illustrated in a distinctive black-and-terra-cotta color palette, and depicted an armored warrior with a spear and shield, facing off against a 5-headed hydra. It looked like the art style that used to decorate a type of ancient clay jar called amphora. Printed in angular letters above the picture was the title: Greek Mythology.
Minato started flipping through the book and found that here, at least, were stories he recognized from his old world. So maybe ancient history was similar in both places. His eyes caught on a familiar word and he stilled, reading the name over again: Orpheus. When he read on, he found this was the most famous tale about the legendary musician, where his wife Eurydice died of a snakebite, and Orpheus played such mournful music that the gods wept and told him how he might bring her back. Minato was familiar with the story, of course, but he couldn’t help reading it anyway. There were some words he struggled with, but because he knew the plot, it wasn’t too hard to figure them out. When he finished the tale, he decided this might be a good book to start with, and carried it back to Father.
On the way, Minato met Anya running back to Father with a book clutched in her hands. She grinned broadly and said, “Mina, look what I found!” And held up the book so he could see the cover. It was a comic for Spy Wars, her favorite cartoon. No wonder she was so excited.
“Looks fun,” he said.
“Yeah!” she agreed brightly. “What’d you get?” Minato also showed her the cover, and she squinted at the title, trying to sound it out. “Gree-k Mai..to…”
“Mythology,” Minato told her.
“My-tho-lo-gy!” She repeated. Then she cheerfully asked, “What’s that?”
What was a good way to explain it? After a moment Minato said, “It’s old stories about gods and monsters and heroes.”
“Monsters and heroes?” Anya repeated, her eyes wide. “I wanna read it too!”
Minato looked at the book, then the picture books she’d picked out before, and decided this was probably too advanced for her at the moment. So he said, “How about I read some to you when we get home?”
Anya liked that idea. So after Father checked out the books and they all got home, Minato sat down in the living room with the book spread open on his lap. He flipped through the book looking for a story that Anya might like, then stopped at a particular illustration. “This one’s about the chimera,” he said, pointing at the picture.
“Chimera?” Anya repeated. She looked at the picture, then ran and got her toy so she could show it the picture. “Look, it’s you!” she told it. Then she settled in to listen while Minato read her the story.
As Twilight listened to Minato reading aloud, he realized this was the first time he’d ever heard the boy say more than two full sentences at a time.
This was also a chance to gauge Minato’s reading skills, so Twilight listened carefully. Overall, Minato read well. There were a few words he seemed unfamiliar with, but after a moment’s work he was able to sound them all out and pronounce them more or less accurately without any assistance. Given the relative complexity of the text, that meant he ought to have little difficulty with the reading portions of the Eden Academy entrance exam. Twilight resolved that later on he’d have Anya read one of her own books aloud so he could judge her skills as well.
As he watched the scene in the living room, Twilight reflected that the two children seemed to be almost polar opposites: Anya was energetic, loud, and would freely share her many opinions whether they were requested or not, while Minato was solemn, quiet, and getting him to show a preference for anything was like pulling teeth. (Actually, that was something to keep in mind: the children should probably see a dentist at some point.) It seemed almost strange that the two would get along so well. Yet there they were, huddled together on the couch while Minato read a story about the chimera that terrorized the countryside and the hero who was sent to slay it. The plot was rather much like that monster-fighting game they liked to play, actually.
In fact, as soon as the story was done, Anya pulled Minato off the couch and launched into that very same game. Naturally, they were fighting the chimera, represented by her toy, and Minato was given the role of the hero from the story. From there, they settled into the usual routine of Anya dictating the monster’s actions, while Minato pantomimed fighting it. As he observed the game, Twilight noticed that Minato’s movements showed signs of viable technique; his feet were placed in a way that would make it easier to respond to threats, and he appeared to guard his vitals well. He might do well at physical combat training, if he ever had the need to learn.
Regardless, the children seemed occupied for now. And while the lone toy and plenty of imagination was holding them over for now, Minato’s earlier advice was sound: children needed toys. So he told the children he was going out shopping, and they were thankfully too busy to pester him to come along.
Yet when Twilight arrived at a toy store, he realized he had no idea what kind of toys would be suitable. The store had many kinds of toys and games, but which would the two children like? He started wandering through the store, browsing the products on offer. At the sight of rows of soft toys, he was reminded that Anya had her omnipresent plush. So perhaps she might enjoy something of that nature.
As for Minato…what did he even like? He played that game with Anya, but she always started it. He might well just be going along with what she wanted. When pressed to choose a book for himself, he picked Greek mythology. Was that an interest of his? Would there be any toys relating to that? Or perhaps a toy weapon, so he could use it for that game of theirs?
His scrutiny of the shelves was interrupted by a sales clerk approaching and asking if he needed help finding anything. Immediately donning the role of a devoted father, Loid replied, “Yes, I’m looking for toys for two children, a boy and a girl, both 6 years old. What would you recommend?”
The clerk promptly gestured to one of the shelves nearby and said, “Well, you can’t go wrong with teddy bears. Children of all kinds love them, and we have them in a variety of styles.” Indeed, the shelf held bears of a variety of sizes and colors, some wearing little jackets or dresses.
Pointing at a different shelf, the clerk went on, “And of course, all little girls like dolls. We have many of these as well, from soft rag dolls for girls who tend to play a bit roughly with their toys, to elegant porcelain dolls for more refined young ladies.” There was a stunning variety of dolls available, in a wide array of materials, clothing styles, and hair colors.
Heading down the isles a bit, the clerk said, “As for boys, there’s always trucks, trains or boats, and a set of toy soldiers is a perennial favorite. But this is one of our most popular ones lately.” He stopped at one shelf and picked up a blocky robot, its silver metal painted with accents in primary colors. The clerk continued, “If you wind it up, it really walks!” He demonstrated, twisting a key sticking out of the robot’s back and setting it on a nearby counter, allowing it to shuffle forward with a whirring sound.
Minato had shown no particular interest in vehicles of any kind, so Loid discounted those immediately. Toy soldiers might be useful for the childrens’ games of make-believe, but seeing as he was striving to protect the peace, he was hesitant to give the children something so blatantly warlike. Especially since it was probable that one or both children may have lost their parents in the recent war. So he smiled at the clerk, said, “Thank you for the suggestions!” And picked up the robot. For Anya he picked out one of the soft dolls with a frilly dress. Given how active she was, he didn’t want to give her anything too fragile.
Now, while he had one toy for each of them, it might be wise to get them a game they could play together. Heading for the game section, he soon spotted a handsome chess set with carved wooden pieces. A classic game of strategy like that would no doubt be valuable for honing the childrens’ intellect.
But when Loid brought the game to the sales counter, the clerk looked at it and said, “If this is intended for the same children, then chess may be a bit advanced for 6-year-olds. Perhaps they would like a nice set of checkers to go with it? You can use them with the same board if you like, and once they master how to play that, you can introduce the more challenging rules of chess.” While Loid did not doubt the man was just trying to get an extra sale out of him, the advice was sound, so he added a set of checkers to his purchase.
After Twilight got home and presented the toys to the children, Anya’s face lit up with delight while Minato merely said a quiet “Thank you.” It was hard to tell if he genuinely liked the toy or not, given how little expression he ever showed.
Anya hugged her new doll, and when Minato nudged her, she looked up and with a grin said, “Thank you for Dolly, Papa!” Then she turned to Minato and asked, “What are you gonna call yours?”
Minato looked down at the robot in his hands for a long moment. Just when Twilight was starting to wonder if he would answer at all, Minato said softly, “Aegis.” Then he picked up the box with the board games and asked, “Want to learn how to play checkers?” The children set up the game on the coffee table and sat on the floor, with their toys beside them. Minato patiently taught Anya the rules for checkers, and in no time she was energetically hopping pieces across the board.
Between the new game, toys, and books, the children were happily occupied for a while. However, over the next few days, Twilight noticed that Minato rarely interacted with the robot unless Anya asked him to bring it out for one of their games. So perhaps it was not the kind of toy he preferred after all, and Twilight was no closer to figuring out what he would like. The boy was even harder to understand than Anya sometimes.
Later, Twilight looked up the word “aegis” and found it was a type of ancient Greek shield. It seemed Greece, at least, was a recurring interest of Minato’s. Perhaps Twilight would have to keep that in mind for later.