piyo
requested by @jalicecookie
His one-year-old had this uncanny ability to zero in on the one thing she wasn’t supposed to touch. Toys? Boring. Stuffed animals? Yawn. But the plug in the wall? Absolutely irresistible.
「はな、ダメだよ。」 “Hana, no, don’t.” Riki crouched down so his eyes levelled with hers. His tone was firm, like he’d seen other parents do it. “No. No touch.”
His daughter blinked up at him, all innocence and chubby cheeks. Then, as if the words had activated a switch in her tiny brain, her little hand twitched toward the socket again.
Riki narrowed his eyes. 「ほんとに、やめて。」 “I mean it. Stop.”
👀 Challenge accepted.
The mischievous sparkle in Hana’s eyes told him precisely what was coming. He tried one more time, gently prying her hand away. 「危ないよ、はなぴよ…」 “Dangerous, Hana-piyo…”
She giggled, because, of course, she did, then lunged forward with surprising toddler speed, yanking the plug halfway out before Riki could intercept. His heart stopped, and his soul left his body.
「はな！」 “Hana!” He scooped her up immediately, half-panicked, half-scolding, pressing frantic kisses to the top of her hair as though the lamp itself might’ve cursed her. 「パパ、もう白髪になっちゃうよ！」 “Papa’s going to get gray hairs already!”
Her only response was a tiny smack to his cheek and a victorious little babble: 「えへへ！」 “Hehe!” —like she’d just won an Olympic medal.
But the cord wasn’t even the worst of it.
Hours later, when the apartment had gone quiet and Riki thought maybe, just maybe, his little whirlwind had tired herself out… it happened.
The kitchen.
He found her there by following the suspicious silence, because if Hana wasn’t babbling or stomping around, it usually meant trouble. Sure enough—when he reached the doorway, the scene hit him like a slow-motion disaster film.
Baby powder. Everywhere.
The tin lay toppled in the middle of the floor, white dust exploding across tiles and cabinets. Hana was sitting in the center, her hands and cheeks coated like she’d survived a snowstorm.
And when she noticed the tall shadow stretching across the floor, she froze. Riki didn’t even say a word. He just stood there, half in disbelief, half in despair.
So Hana did the only thing her tiny toddler brain could think of. She let her body go limp and fell backward onto the empty tin, shutting her eyes dramatically.
「ねんね…」 “Sleepy…” —pretending to nap.
Riki’s lips twitched. He wanted to be mad—he should be mad—but the sight of her little chest rising and falling with fake snores, baby powder sticking in her lashes, was too much.
“…ほんとに？」 “…Really?” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re unbelievable.”
She peeked one eye open at him, then quickly squeezed it shut again, letting out a tiny, mischievous squeak: 「ぷっ」 “Pfft!” —like she hadn’t just been caught.
Riki sighed, stepping into the kitchen. The powder crunched under his socks. Carefully, he scooped her up, and despite her act, she immediately snuggled against his shoulder. 「はなぴよ、かわいいね…」“Hana-piyo, you’re too cute…”
Her tiny hand tugged at the collar of his shirt, and she let out a sleepy babble: 「ぱぱ…」 “Papa…”
And just like that, Riki’s heart turned to mush.
He set her on the counter, grabbing a damp towel and gently wiping the powder from her cheeks, hair, and tiny fingers. She wriggled and giggled when the towel tickled her chin, letting out: 「あはは！」“Ahaha!”
Riki couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even though every inch of the kitchen screamed mess.
「ねんねのふくもね…」 “Sleep clothes too…” he muttered, already peeling her from the dusted pyjamas. “You’ve got me working overtime, はなぴよ.”
She cooed at the nickname, nuzzling into his chest once she was in clean pyjamas. 「んー… ぴよ…」 “Mmm… Piyo…” —a sleepy, happy murmur.
He carried her to the playpen, lowering her carefully inside. 「ここでまっててね。パパ、おそうじするから。」 “Stay here for me, okay? Papa’s going to clean.”
Her big eyes followed him as he hauled out the vacuum and tackled the powdered battlefield. Now and then, she squealed with excitement: 「きゃっきゃ！」 “Kyaa-kya!” —like it was the funniest game ever, bouncing against the playpen wall. He shot her a look, shaking his head.
「まだ怒ってるんだからね。でも…そんなに怒ってないかな。」 “I’m still mad… well, maybe not that mad.”
Once the last powder was gone and a fresh tin was neatly placed on the counter, Riki grabbed a bottle, measuring the formula with practiced care. He filled it, shook it, and brought it back to his daughter, who was already reaching for him like he was her whole world.
「はいはい、パパいるよ。」 “Alright, alright, Papa’s here.” He scooped her back up, settling onto the couch with her sprawled across his lap. Hana latched onto the bottle happily, her little hands gripping his fingers as she drank.
Riki watched her, exhaustion and warmth mixing in his chest. 「やんちゃだけど、はなはパパの宝物だ。」 “You’re trouble, but you’re Papa’s treasure. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, bottle still clutched between her lips, the tiniest sigh slipping out: 「ふぅ…」 “Phew…”
Riki kissed her forehead, pulling her closer, and whispered, 「世界がひっくり返っても…パパはずっとはなを選ぶよ。」 “Even if the world turns upside down… Papa will always choose you, Hana.”
And as he sat there with her bundled against his chest, the mess in the kitchen already forgotten, Riki realized he didn’t care how often she tested his limits. She could spill a hundred tins of powder and tug out every cord in the house—she was still his everything.
Copyright 2025 - present © hazelira all rights reserved. All writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
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