Rubber duckies are fun~! || Sam & child!Miranda
“A child can teach an adult three things: to be happy for no reason, to always be busy with something, and to know how to demand with all his might that which he desires.”
― Paulo Coelho
Loud stomping could be heard. "Papaaaaaaaai!"
Sam appears through the doorway moments later, dressed in a kimono-hakama combination, which he wears when he trains for the sake of tradition. "Yes, filha?"
The small girl pouts and stomps over, leaving mud all over the floor. "It started to rain and it destroyed my sand castle"
Sam raised a brow at the appearance of footsteps following his daughter's steps. The disciplinary urges spark, yet he only responds with a small chuckle. "Aye yaye... Well, filha, sand cannot stand against the rain. Are your clothes dirty?" He kneels down to his daughter, while a small, flat disk of a robot zooms by to take care of the mess.
Face hidden by a dark halo of hair, Miranda looks down and holds up both hands. They're streaked with mud and barely dry sand, which immidiately falls to the floor. "Nuhuuuuuu~" Pressing a mud covered palm to her father's shadowed cheek, she giggles. "It's muddy!" Only to pap the same palm against her own cheek. "Look! We match~!"
Sam cannot help but release a rich, deep laugh. placing his synthetic hand upon his child's head and messing with her hair. "Ah, you bring me such joy. Papai loves you, my filha~ Come, let's get you cleaned up before your mother returns." He pressed a small kiss to his child's forehead, before standing and leading her by a muddy hand.
Miranda follows her dad, her gaze resting on the synthetic hand of her father. The feeling is comfortable and well known, the trust she places within that hand unending. A small giggle bubbles up in the tiny girl, her steps tippling after her dad, while she tries to step into the same spaces his feet did. It is a game she plays often, even though now it hinders their walk quite a bit. "Are we taking a bath~?"
"You're taking a bath, yes. I was not finished with my routine, so it would be a waste for me to bathe." He doesn't even mention the muddy handprint on his cheek. Knowing him, and the love for his child, it'll stay there for as long as possible, until he must go to bed. "If you bathe now, I'll let you play with the rubber duckies, yeah?"
The small girl hops up and down, while still trailing his steps. "Rubber duckies! Yay~!" Another giggle and her bright, bubbly voice can barely contain the excitement over her favorite bath time companions. "I named the duckies, do you know papai? They're called mommy, daddy and Mira. For meeee~" She starts to sing without rhyme nor rhythm. "Bath time~ Bath, bath time with papai! And duckies! They swim, swim, swim~ Up and down yayayayaaaa~" The singing stops and fingers curl tighter around his. "Can i train with you one day?"
Sam can't keep the smile off of his face, as he enters the bathroom with his daughter. Immediately beginning to run a bath, and washing both hands in the sink and bringing out a small stool, along with a small kit of wooden instruments that he's used to bathe her since birth. "Nhh? Hehe, you already train with me, filha. Those mornings where I have you sit with your eyes closed on the beach with me? Where you think little about yourself, and more of the world around you? Those are the very first steps of training that you must take."
Miranda sits still inside the warm water, knowing better then to play around while her dad is still scrubbing off the mud from her hands, face and where ever else it has landed. Which is quite a lot. Smeared over her arms and legs, her feet, even though they had been covered by her boots, and her neck and hair. "Ohh~ I thought you just wanted me to look asleep without being asleep." Her words are earnest. Sounding not as serious as her mother's and not as caustic and filled with dry humor as her father's. A child's innocence and wonderment.
"Hahaha! Filha, my dear filha. You truly are my child--my blood and my personality.~" He makes sure to take extra care as he bathes his daughter, moving with quick hands so that they can finish before one of Miranda's tv shows come on... And before his wife's arrival. The house should be clean, and nothing else is out of the ordinary. "Tell me how old you are, filha. In the language that I've taught you since you could speak."
Miranda pulls one of the yellow rubber duckies closer, constantly singing to the toy only to stop so she could listen to her father's question. "Uhhhhhh..." Tiny nose crunched up and she looked down onto her now clean hands, lifting them out of the water so she could count down her age. In Portuguese, as her father wanted her to. "Um, dois.. três--" She looks up, the word for the next number having slipped her mind for a second. "Quatro, cinco! Tenho cinco anos de idade, papai!"
"Maravilhoso, minha filha!" The samurai runs his fingers through her hair, before rinsing out once more and motioning for her to get out of the bath, so that he can drain the water. "I'm so proud of you. And next time we go to the beach, I want you to do as I say, yeah? Think little of yourself, and deeply of the world." He then retrieves a towel and beginning the process of drying her.
Miranda cuddles into the towel her father dries her off with. "Mhmmmm...papai." The child leans against him, so she can put the rubber duckies back into their 'beds', a small wicker basket. After he is done, she turns to hold out her arms. "Up!"
"Oh, but you're so old." He spoke in a playful tone, as he kneels down to gather her up in his arms and take her out of the bathroom. Quiet footsteps carry him forth, daughter held close to his chest in a protective gesture. "One episode, then bedtime. We get up early tomorrow."
