Love Like You: Rohan Kishibe and Daughter Reader

Lost At A Sleepover

A/N: Please note that this chapter contains depictions of violent, visceral, and disturbing intrusive thoughts, as well as a mental breakdown. As usual, feedback is always appreciated, as I want to improve my skills as an author! Thank you!

—SundropDandelion <3

The hazy motes of filtered light coasting along the walls reminded Josuke of angel wings. He was certain that if the Carribean-blue rays cascading down from the overhead bulb—aspersing chasms and clefts like pools—were truly submerging the room in water, any penetrating noise would resemble a heavenly chorus. A breath rooted in reality flowed into his lungs, for his surroundings were a dreamscape that had been liberated from his consciousness, exploding into the world like the birth of a new universe.

And in front of Josuke residing in a glass box was a creature whose scales coruscated like a collection of sea glass. The colors, arranged in the pattern of a checkerboard, contravened his homeland: the first organic shape embedded in his split-end tail was like bubbling magma, and following it was the hypnotizing yellow of a match, rebelling against the sereneness of a pond or stream on a clear day.

Josuke's eyes followed the fluid migration of the betta fish, patrolling his lawn of gravel and navigating the labyrinth of entangling anubias. He delicately dangled a dried bloodworm against the surface of the tank, chuckling when the betta fish leaped out of the water to snatch the morsel out of his grasp. "Feisty little fella. I can't blame you though, seeing how your entire existence is within this enclosure..."

The betta flared his fins, challenging his reflection on the patented sticker of his heater—or perhaps, he wanted to see a face similar to his. Josuke examined his visual echo, reluctant to accept the fact that it fit perfectly into all surfaces of the tank: his face snuck up the left and right glass panes, and his entire stature could be seen on the front wall when he crawfished to the opposing side of the room.

And from above—the only open wall of the tank—his human features were almost recognizable: he had two eyes, a pair of lips below a nose, and ears on both sides of his head. Despite the distortion, Josuke knew it was him, and that he would always be himself to eyes aligned with his own. But did the blotches of blue from his eyes, indigo from his pompadour, and peach from his skin, resemble humanity when viewed from below? Was his reflection viewed as a faceless phenomenon, a mental fantasy of a world outside that the fish unfortunately forced himself to create, like an abandoned child to an empty ceiling? Do fish even think—

Creak...

It took the squeaking of the door to remind him that he was blessed with the autonomy to leave. A runnel of living room light babbled across the floor, a silhouette soon backing up the stream, the light collecting into a puddle in the center of the office.

"Good grief, getting that kid to bed is like moving a mountain..."

Josuke's laugh betrayed his desire for secrecy when his nephew Jotaro removed his hat, revealing tufts of obsidian hair that simply refused to stay tidy. The marine biologist massaged his lower eyelids, sitting down in his office chair that Josuke pulled out for him. "Shall I make you an espresso? You look exhausted, and trust me, I'm all too familiar with the late-night studying that the nursing internship demands."

Jotaro slid a seaweed sample under his microscope. "I appreciate the offer, Josuke, but I plan on going to bed after I study this slide. I'm going to need all of the sleep I can get to put up with Jolyne's antics for the next few days..."

"Gotcha." His eyes plunged back to the body of water he was originally lost in. "...Hey, Jotaro, do you ever think that Squalo gets bored or lonely in his tank?"