One shots with my stupid little guys

Wynter Shirakumo - 1

The tension in the small room at Tartarus was palpable, a heavy silence filling the air as Aizawa, Hizashi, and Wynter stood side by side, facing the glass. Behind it, the figure of Kurogiri loomed, unmoving, an eerie mist swirling faintly around his form. Wynter had never been this close to him before, and she felt an uneasy chill spread through her. She had seen photos of her birth father, Oboro Shirakumo, but this—this was something else.

Aizawa took a deep breath, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder. Hizashi was on her other side, giving her a reassuring nod. "You don't have to say anything," Hizashi whispered. "Just... be here with us, okay?"

Wynter nodded, her gaze fixed on Kurogiri's blank, metallic face as her dads exchanged a glance. Taking a deep breath, Aizawa took a step forward.

"Kurogiri," he said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of something Wynter hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "Do you... recognize her?" His eyes flicked to Wynter, then back to Kurogiri. "This is Wynter. She... she's Oboro's daughter."

For a long moment, nothing happened. Wynter held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as Kurogiri's eyes remained empty, his expression unchanged.

But then, a flicker—a faint glimmer of something passed through those hollow eyes. His gaze drifted from Aizawa, to Hizashi, and finally, settled on Wynter. She felt a strange, unnerving pull, like he was staring into her soul, searching for something hidden within her. The mist around him shifted, as if reacting to the faint spark of recognition.

"Wyn...ter..." Kurogiri's voice was low, raspy, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, forgotten place. It wasn't a question, but a statement—almost as if he was remembering the name, tasting it for the first time.

Wynter's breath hitched. She could feel Aizawa's hand tighten on her shoulder, his grip grounding her, as if he were bracing for what might come next.

"Yes, that's right," Hizashi encouraged gently, his tone warm but careful. "Wynter. Oboro's daughter. Your daughter."

Kurogiri's head tilted slightly, the faint glimmer in his eyes intensifying, though his expression remained blank. "Oboro..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if recalling a distant memory buried under layers of fog. "Daughter..."

Wynter took a hesitant step forward, her voice shaking but resolute. "Did you... did you know him? My father, I mean."

Kurogiri stared at her, the mist around him thickening, swirling faster. There was a struggle in his gaze, an internal war between the darkness that bound him and something deeper, something desperately clawing its way to the surface. He didn't answer her question, but his gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Wynter could swear she saw warmth—a spark of something human.

"I... I don't remember," he finally rasped, his voice fractured. "But... you... you have his eyes."

Wynter felt a pang in her chest, a mixture of sorrow and hope. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes beginning to mist. "That means a lot."

There was another long silence, broken only by the faint hum of the containment unit. Aizawa's voice was thick as he spoke, fighting to keep his composure. "Kurogiri... Oboro... we want you to remember. For her."

Kurogiri's gaze flickered, his eyes distant as if he were listening to voices only he could hear. He looked back at Wynter, his gaze unwavering. "Wynter," he repeated, his voice like a faint echo, fading into silence. "I'm... sorry..."

Wynter's lip trembled, and she felt Hizashi's hand on her back, steadying her. "It's okay," she said softly, her voice barely audible. "I just... I wanted to meet you. Even if it's only like this."

The mist around Kurogiri pulsed slightly, as though reacting to her words. He stared at her, the shadow of Oboro Shirakumo buried within him fighting to break free, but ultimately restrained, shackled by the darkness that held him.

As Aizawa and Hizashi guided her out of the room, Wynter looked back one last time. She saw Kurogiri watching her, and in his eyes, there was a lingering glimmer, a faint memory of something precious that seemed just out of reach. And for the first time, she felt she'd glimpsed a piece of her father—obscured, but still there, somewhere deep within.