Kento Nanamin

Taking care of a baby and a five-year-old isn’t easy, but Kento has it covered. You have a bad cold, the man can’t let you near his daughters. You need to rest and he won’t risk having the girls sick. However, Kento didn’t realize how much of a handful they would be.

Suki herself is enough to fill up Kento’s plate, but having a ten-month-old baby on top of it makes his job even more difficult. Suki loves her little sister, don’t get her wrong, but she will ensure that she’s the favorite daughter even if that includes sabotaging a toddler. Kento knows it, that’s why he keeps his eyes on her.

But Kento can’t keep his eye on Suki at all times, especially when you’re sick. He’s trying to cook a nutritious meal, he can’t hold a baby that loves to touch everything. The easiest solution is to put her in her playpen while he gives Suki something to entertain herself with. It’s usually his phone, giving her a game to play before he begins his other duties.

Sometimes the phone isn’t enough to entertain her. Suki loves to wander around the house, painting on the walls, playing with your decoration, making “potions” with your lotions and perfumes– The list goes on. But sometimes all of that isn’t enough to entertain her.

“Daddy, can I paint your nails?” Suki asks, walking to the kitchen where Kento makes dinner for everyone. Soup for you, something bland for his picky daughters, and then something simple for himself. In other words, his hands are full.

“Later, Suki.” Is all he says, and Suki stomps her little feet, walking back to the living room with her kid nail polish. Her little arms are crossed, and she looks around for something to do, something that will express her anger. She looks down at her nail polish then she hears some cooing from the playpen, and a lightbulb turns on.

Not even five minutes pass, and Kento hears his eldest daughter yelling at the baby. He turns off the stove and walks to the living room to hear Suki yell, “Bad, Riri! Bad!”

“She’s not a dog, Suki. That’s your baby sister.” Kento corrects her because Suki treats Himari as her dog. Kento walks over to the playpen, where Suki reprimands the baby. Suki’s nail polish is spilled in front of the baby, and before her chubby hands can lay on top of the puddle, Kento picks her up from the playpen. “What happened here?”

“I climbed into the pen to play with her but she grabbed my nail polish and started to throw it around. Like usual.” Suki is a great actress, sticking out her bottom lip and crossing her arms.

“Is that true Riri?” Kento softens his voice while talking to the clueless, happy baby. She smiles, causing Kento to smile back at her. He kisses her chubby cheek before putting his attention back on Suki. He hates to reprimand her but he can’t let her get away with everything anymore. “I’m not a dumbass, Suki. You can start doing bad things and blame it on her when she’s two or three, right now that won’t work.”

“I’m telling the truth!” She claims, but Kento is hearing none of it. She knows it’s not believable but her daddy usually believes her every word, so she hoped this time around he would believe her again.

“Get out of there, Suki, and stop lying before I put you on timeout again.” Kento can’t believe the words he’s saying. Timeout? Really? He hates it, he’s supposed to support her with everything, not reprimand her.

“Can I go with mommy?”

“She’s sleeping. Now go sit down on the couch and wait for the food.” He’s very serious, she can tell, so she won’t challenge him anymore.

“Can I play with Riri?” Suki asks as Kento walks back to the kitchen with the baby. He looks at his sweet smiley Himari, who reminds him so much of Suki. And to think Suki blames everything on a replica of herself– But he reminds himself that he’s the reason she acts like a little brat.

“Next thing you’ll do is put your mother’s makeup on her, you’ll blame it on the baby and we all get yelled at. I won’t risk it.” He clicks his tongue.

Kento has to find a way to get Suki to stop blaming everything on the baby, but he has a feeling that’ll take a while.