#dad!yi

[yi-dashi-a]

"When can I learn to play a *magic* instrument like mommy? I don't like the |harp| you gave me... It's boring, daddy!" His daughter folded her arms in a sullen pout.

“Uh, I... do not think that is how it works?” Though in reality Yi didn’t know how a regular instrument worked, let along one such as an etwahl, “Practice your sign language well, or write a note to your mother, or simply talk to her. That would be a true test of your signs. Ask her about it in any event. About why you must at least start on this instrument first. It is magic, do you not see? As far as I know, you must get good at normal instruments first, and then you can use a magic one.”

Was that a good excuse? It’d have to do, “But yes, please do talk to your mother. She loves it when you discuss things with her directly. Do not forget, just because she cannot speak, does not mean she cannot hear. Do not be afraid to ask her of these things...”

[yi-dashi-a]

"Dad!." The little boy would run up to him in a rather awkward way, having not quite figured out how to properly walk yet, but he was getting there! As well he didn't know many words, but he understood them by now! Once close he hugged the mans leg for a few moments before taking a step back arms extended upwards as if wanting to be held. A innocent smile adorning his expression, one of pure joy to see his father

Much like the child himself, the father was poorly versed in the ways of. well, fathering. He tensed in the child’s hold, eyeing his own blood as if he were a growth upon his leg. Soon. One day, he’d get used to it.

“Uh... Hello, |my son.|” He smiled? Was it a smile? “Can you... go see your mother instead? I-I am... busy... right now. You understand, yes?”

And he would so easily deny the child of a went to be held, instead just intent to stare with his lenses whirring. Perhaps he’d just have to wait until the child grew into a personality before he decided if this had been a terrible mistake...

[yi-dashi-a]

"Dad... I wish to become a knight," admitted his son, his tone soft. "I could fight those filthy Noxians who stole my grandparents from you, all those years ago. I want to do you proud, Father." His son was dressed like a Demacian man, spoke like a Demacian man, walked like a Demacian man. Yi's teachings seemed lost on the boy.

“… It is compulsory here, is it not?” Yi mumbled in response, waving off the boy as if he didn’t care for the conversation. He did. He’d cried about it plenty before now. The Noxian war machine was so well known to him. Surely it would have only gotten worse over time, “To fight them, in some way? You are grown. I cannot stop you. Go and kill yourself for this country. I do not care…”

He almost winced at his own words, hissing in a breath through his teeth, but still he kept his apathetic monotone, “Talk to your mother. She is the Demacian. I have no stake in this land. I fight for my own heritage.” His head turned sharply, almost in contrast to his spoken word. Lenses then bore through his son, and he was glad they obscured his face. Their seal was so tight that no tears would fall past them.

Yet still, his words were even, “If you think you can avenge them by fighting for some foreign army in this land foreign to me, then you are sorely mistaken. Do not bring up this topic again…”

[yi-dashi-a]

“Dad… will papa ever be able to see me? I often hear you two speak about how he’d love to know what I look like and it… makes me sad.” The little boy mumbles somewhat defeated, fingers twiddling against one another. “If we take off the sunglasses will he see? Are they too dark, is that it? I… I want papa to see me…”

“I... Uh... Well...” The man scratched at his beard, avoiding eye contact with the young boy, “I think it would be better, for everyone, if you asked him of these things. I think he can better explain it to you. Yes. I cannot speak for him, but if you ask him...” He tried to give a comforting sort of expression. It failed, “... he will tell you. You will come to know everything you need to know from him.”

[yi-dashi-a]

A girl all of the age of five approaches Yi. She looks up at him with the biggest of smiles, strands of her azure hair falling across her eyes. She tugs on the Wushu Master's hand to get his attention before holding out the book in her hands, a series of quick nods, asking for him to read to her.

“… You really are a child after your mother’s heart, I do believe.” He chuckled ever so softly, ruffling the girl’s hair with a warm air about him, “But we do not need books. I can tell you a story without the need of such a thing, and I assure you, they will be better stories.”

Sitting down with crossed legs, he motioned for the child to sit upon his knees, “If you insist, we will read this story after. But first… have I ever told you the story of the Wuju Master who managed to run so fast he angered a Demon of the Gale…?”

[yi-dashi-a]

Dad.. Think it'd be okay to learn sword play when I get old enough? Or am I old enough now? I don't know.

“My child...” He put on the bravest face he could against the pureness of the young one. Wuju spoke so proudly of these moments. When one’s child would stride to their father, and such a question would turn Father into Master. But he shook his head instead. Wuju also wasn’t keen on lies, but he’d still lie to the face of the child, “... I cannot teach you. You are of my own blood, and in Wuju... this is not allowed. I can only teach people... not of my blood. That is why I... I teach Wukong. He is not of my blood, so I teach him. I am... very sorry...”

[yi-dashi-a]

"Father, A blade is so UGH." The teenage girl her voice was loud and annoyed, she hated having to train with them. "I'd much prefer a bow, there's something to be said about aiming and ripping through someone their heart before they come close. The enemy never knows what hit them, no Noxian dog will ever come close if we take them down from afar."

It had been a mistake to even try and teach her how to straighten her sword arm, even if just in passing. Why did he even think something like this would be okay?

“Then fine.” He shouted back, “Use your Stars’ Damned bow. Go and find one. I do not care. And do not speak on things you do not know about, girl.” He all but snatched the blade from her grasp, regardless of if the blade would cut his hand, “Get out of my sight. Now. I care not for where you go, just go! I will not stand here and listen to you say such things to me. Go.”

He pointed the blade in a direction. Any direction. It didn’t matter, “Leave...”

[thearchiveofwuju-blog]

“I am a terrible parent...”