Ryoma: 4-years old

I found this in my old notebook, and it was half-finished, so I quickly wrapped it up and decided to post it. xD

"Rinko…Rinko, ah! He's yanking at my hair!"

Nanjiroh winced in pain as Ryoma's socked foot hit his nose. His arms tightened around the 4-year old in hopes to tame him, but Ryoma would have none of that. He climbed onto his father's shoulders, one hand on Nanjiroh's cheek to keep balance, while the other pulled at the locks of hair.

"Ryo-tan wants to play tennis!"

Nanjiroh laughed, then groaned as his hair was pulled even harder. It was an annoying habit the brat had come up with to get what he wanted. He wrapped an arm around the small boy's waist while the other hand pushed the cart.

"Che, be quiet, will ya?"

"Daddy needs to play tennis with Ryo-tan. Not shop."

Nanjiroh sighed, and lowered the wriggling boy into the cart. "Don't I know it, kid." He eyed Rinko who was humming merrily and looking at the culinary supplies without a care in the world. "That woman always gives me the hard work, like taming you."

"Taming?" Ryoma's face scrunched up. "Ryo-tan doesn't know what that means."

"Good," Nanjiroh deadpanned.

Ryoma glared at him, but it was more like a pout, with his lower lip sticking out. He stood up on the cart, his face halfway up to the edges, hands tight on the railing. With more force than necessary, he tried to climb out. Nanjiroh immediately put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. "Watch it, son," he warned. "You're going to fall off."

"Ryo-tan wants to fall off."

"Oh yeah? Well, don't I want it too. Go ahead, jump off the cart."

"Nanjiroh, stop bugging the poor kid," Rinko floated over to them, face flushed and smiling. Nanjiroh sputtered in disbelief – how could that woman side with the evil being in the cart instead of her beloved husband? He watched as Rinko lifted the four-year old out of the cart and placed him on the ground. She held Ryoma's hand.

"You can walk," Rinko said. "Just don't run away somewhere."

"Okay," Ryoma said happily to his mother.

Rinko glanced at Nanjiroh, and gave him a look. "Dear, he's an angel," she mussed Ryoma's hair, and watched as her little boy smiled at her, gold eyes bright. Nanjiroh growled under his breath, and hurried to catch up with them. "I swear, Rinko, he's manipulative, evil – " he waved his hands around to prove his point. "In fact, it's this whole scheme he's planned to get you on his side."

"Nanjiroh," Rinko sighed, and shook her head. "Don't be a child."

Nanjiroh shook his head back. "Che, he's an evil little brat. He was yanking my hair when you weren't looking."

Ryoma clutched his mother's hand. "Ryo-tan is not evil."

"Of course not honey," Rinko said reassuringly. "You're father's just being an idiot."

"Hey!" Nanjiroh cried.

Rinko strolled to the cashier, while Ryoma trailed after her obediently. When she wasn't looking, he glanced back at his father and stuck out his tongue. Nanjiroh glared at him, and grumbled something about ungrateful, manipulative little kids. Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was his son after all, and no matter how bratty he was, he couldn't find it in him to really be annoyed.

Pointless? But I love Little Ryoma to death.