New story guys...and oh my god with this it was one day into my break and it suddenly just that bug hit me… I need to work on my book but for right now..these two are my focus...the book...the book has been planned for a while and I have my ideas..just need Civil War stuff. You guys are awesomeness though, and I missed all of you!

Also...there may be a few repeated moments in this chapter...and we're going to move into some of the more sexual aspects of the whole...master/maid...thing...ummm yeah. you'll also find out the winner fo the bet in this one! Or it may be a side story. I hope youg uys enjoy. This was supposed to be longer but I figured what I got here is a pretty good start!

Comment and like guys...I enjoy your constructive comments.

Also...I'll get back to the baby stuff soon, but there's a few more avenues I'm going to explore before that. Sorry!

Chapter 1

Moving day had finally arrived, and the Kurusu household was in a mild state of panic.

While Akira had been packed for nearly a week and was ready to just load the few remaining boxes into Sojiro's new car and leave, his parents had other was barely after seven when his mother began banging on his door, telling him to get out of bed and help clean up the small piles of paperwork, books, and dishes that littered the house. Akira didn't know why; they had no one coming over to pick him up since he only had his oversize duffel bag and Mona's carrier to take on the train with him, not to mention the fact that everyone was busy with either work or school. But as he cleaned the kitchen, Akira figured it was mostly because his parents wanted him out of his room and around for his last day, and was glad to see that his little sister had already been sent off to school when he came down for breakfast.

It was just after noon when they finally finished the cleaning and when he'd finished the final bit of dishes, his mother walked into the kitchen saying that she would be making an experimental recipe she wanted to add to the menu of her and her partner's French-Italian restaurant. Of three restaurants his mother co-owned, this one was by far his favorite and wasted little time in asking his mother if he could help with the preparations. He asked to help as often as he could ever since Sadayo's visit, and while his mother hadn't given him any recipes to take with him, Akira'd picked up a few tricks every time he helped her.

"Of course you can help," she said with a huge smile, glad to have his assistance once more. "Grab me the bag on the middle shelf, along with some eggs please."

Akira did as his mother asked and grabbed everything from the fridge while his mother began pouring flour out onto one of her many cutting boards. Like he had when he was a child, Akira watched as his mother made a small well in the flour and began cracking the eggs into it before seasoning the mixture, explaining each step as she went along. When everything was seasoned, she stepped away, wiping her hands on her apron, before grabbing a small flat piece of metal and a fork.

"Ready to get your hands dirty," she asked as she held out the utensils for her son.

"I think I can handle it," teased Akira as he took the fork and whisked the eggs while his mother stared over his shoulder.

"Not bad," she said as she watched him. "Be careful not to whisk them too much and make sure you add your flour."

"Yes, chef." He teased, earning him a smack on the back of the head.

"Don't call me 'chef,'" snorted Sachiko as she smacked him a second time. "You're my son, not my employee." She chuckled as he slowly mixed the ingredients. "If this were the restaurant you'd have three other chefs on your ass for being too slow, so count your blessings that I'm not your boss."

"Thanks for your patience." Akira huffed as he began finding the fork too difficult to use. "So I go to my hands now?"

"Yep," she said with a smile and a nod. "It's the best way to get the texture you need; at least in my opinion. Oh, and make sure you move slowly and don't wipe your hands on anything, you get that flour on anything it's not supposed to I'll have you scrubbing this kitchen until the last possible second."

"Oh, joy." Akira dug his hands into the flour and realized why most people preferred to use mixing stands. The feeling of egg and wet dough on his fingers was something he'd never enjoyed. It felt like he was digging around in a mixture of pumpkin guts and soggy bread, but as it was his mother teaching him, he had little choice in the matter.

"Make sure you use the metal scraper I gave you. It'll help you keep everything together and save your hands from getting overtired," Sachiko reminded him, as she corrected his movements.

"That's looking good," she said as she watched his hands begin folding the dough into a ball. "You sure you don't want to go to culinary school? You seem to have inherited some of my talents."

"I'm sure," muttered Akira as he set aside the scraper and moved solely to his hands. The dough hadn't been too difficult to work at first, but as he began rolling it into a ball, his shoulder started to bother him.

"Not so easy, is it?" Sachiko had a devilish grin on her face, and Akira couldn't help but smile along.

"Now I know how you got so strong." Akira held out the ball of down for her to inspect, wiping a few beads of sweat away with the back of his hand after she took it from him.

His mother took a moment, her hands rising and falling as she balanced the dough, her face contorted in concentration before setting the ball back on the cutting board. After kneading it a few more times, Sachiko nodded and pointed at the hand-cranked pasta maker, and instructed her son in how to operate the overworked device and watched him with a critical eye.

While he cranked the pasta through the roller, Akira couldn't help but look at his mother. She was several inches shorter than him and a bit more plump than most women her age he'd known, but she was healthy in body and spirit. So healthy in fact that if it wasn't for her, he was confident his father would have been arrested for losing his mind in the courtroom when they'd arrived for his hearing both during his initial arrest and when the courts sentenced him for violating the terms of his probation.

Passing the dough through for the third time, Akira heard his mother ask, "So, what's gotten into you lately?"

"What are you talking about?" Akira was in the middle of cranking the dough through the noisy machine as he gave his mother a nervous look. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and had to take several deep breaths to keep his arm working.

"There's only a handful of reasons a boy your age wants to learn how to cook, and I want to know why? Not to mention the fact that you've suddenly had a slightly better attitude over the past few weeks." Sachiko investigated the dough and decided to give it one final pass through the maker before setting it aside and showing Akira how to prep the meat and vegetables.

"I'm excited," he said as he did what his mother had told him. "I'm officially moving out, and I'm starting college, so I wanted to learn how to cook. A lot of people always talk about how college kids can't cook, and I don't want to end up like that. Not to mention the fact that I got enough of eating out last. I kind of like having home cooked meals."

"So the prospects of cooking for yourself and getting away from us has made you excited," she sighed under her breath as she began cooking the meat.

"Mom!" The knife slipped at his mother's comment, nearly slicing off a large portion of his thumb. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Akira set the blade aside and asked, "What the hell made you say something like that?"

"Number one," growled Sachiko as she turned her attention from the meat to her son. "You do not use that language with me. You're still my child, and I will not tolerate you speaking to me like that."

"Sorry," mumbled Akira, his face beet red. "I wasn't trying to offend you."

"Apology accepted." Sachiko crossed her arms and glowered at him.

"What's reason two," he asked after he felt it was safe to ask.

"My other reason," she said frustratedly, "is that since you've been back, you've been a petulant brat. You've been hiding in your room, barely coming down to eat with us, and working non-stop when you haven't been studying. Don't get me wrong," she said when she saw that her son was about to interrupt, "your father and I are proud of you for how well you've been doing since you came back. You've buckled down and kept your head out of trouble, but we're both concerned that you're hiding something from us or that you hate us."

"I don't hate you," he said quietly, embarrassed that he hadn't noticed how his attitude had affected his parents. "I just...saw a lot of terrible things that honestly I don't feel comfortable talking about with you guys. Not to mention that you guys left me alone for nearly a year. I heard almost nothing from you guys and was left to my own devices. I got used to dealing with things on my own, so I just don't feel the need to talk as much."

"Or it could be that you found other people to talk to."

Akira saw her mother give him a wink, but the pain was evident in her voice.

"Mom, I wasn't trying to..."

"Akira," Sachiko turned down the heat on the stove and gave her son a gentle kiss on the forehead before squeezing his cheeks between her palms. "You're an adult. I can't be there to hold your hand all the time, and it's natural for things like this to happen. But I am your mother," her palms turned into her fingers and she had her son howling in pain as she pinched his cheek like an elderly aunt or grandmother.

"I'm not so dumb as to think your father and I are the only people you talk to about these things. We like your friends, and we're glad you have them. But to be honest, I know you aren't learning to cook just for yourself. The things I'm teaching you to make aren't things you usually cook for yourself. So," Sachiko began to pinch him harder, "are you going to tell me the truth or are you just going to stand there and say nothing about the real reason you've been volunteering to help me cook?"

" 'om et gah," whimpered Akira as the pressure on his cheeks increased to the point of almost having him in tears.

"Are you going to answer my question?" His mother's eyes narrowed behind her thin glasses, and Akira was rooted to the spot thanks to the pain surging through his face.

"'es" he cried as he put his hands on her wrists. "'eas 'et me go."

Sachiko's hands dropped, and Akira immediately began rubbing his cheeks in pain while his mother went about filling the dough with the filling.

"Why'd you have to do that?" Akira adjusted his jaw and gave his mother a confused look.

"As I said, we know you've been hiding things from us," huffed his mother as she sealed the dough and pointed at the fridge and asking him the last of her ingredients. "It's bad enough that you barely look us in the eye, but when you notice your son only smiles when he gets a text message or the fact that you have to go and talk to the school counselor about how you haven't been socializing at school...,"

"That's not my fault," bit back Akira as he set the ingredients down on the island. "I wasn't even back a week before half the school was talking about me behind my back. Let alone the fact that whatever friends I did have before I left wouldn't speak to me thanks to whoever started spreading those lies about why I got expelled in the first place. Not to mention all the lies about the kind of part-time work I did when I lived in Tokyo."

"I'm not blaming you for that," answered his mother cooly. "Your father and I knew something like that would happen and we were able to straighten it out by telling the counselor that we figured it had something to do with rumors." When she looked up, she saw that Akira was stunned and gave him a wink. "We do still look out for you when we can despite your lowered opinion of us."

"Thanks," he whispered as he finished chopping his ingredients. "If it makes you feel any better, I do understand some of why you did what you did, and for what it's worth, I do appreciate it to an extent."

"That's good to know." Sachiko gave her son a weak smile and set her knife down and shook her head. "I mean your father, and I aren't...we aren't completely thrilled with why you're moving, but we understand your reasons. Which..," Sachiko stopped and let out a heavy sigh as she said, "which is why it's so painful that you decided not to tell us that you found someone while you were in Tokyo."

"What are you talking about?" Akira was beginning to feel sick. He hadn't told his parents anything about Sadayo, and unless one of the others or Sojiro let it slip, there were very few ways that his mother would know about his relationship.

"It's not that difficult to tell what's going on," whispered Sachiko as she began preparing the pasta for the next phase. Looking up she saw that her son looked confused and she gave him a loving smile. "I could tell something was up one the first time I saw you smile at your phone. That's not the kind of smile a person has on their face when they're talking to a friend or family member,"

"Mom," Akira focused on his mother's hands, too afraid to look her in the eye. "I don't know what you thought you saw but..."

"It's not just your smile," she answered after folding over the majority of the pasta. Dusting her hands off on her apron she lifted her son's gaze and gave him a gentle pat on the cheek. Akira noticed that her face was bright red and felt himself blush when she said, "I've also heard some of the things you've said through your door late at night; things most people wouldn't say to their friends."

"Why were you listening to my conversations?" Akira wasn't sure if he should laugh at this revelation or be angry at his mother and he could tell by the look on her face that she was just as upset as he was.

"I wasn't trying to," she sighed as she had him begin folding the last few bits of the pasta, her ears a bright pink. "I was going to get a drink from the kitchen, and I just happened to overhear you say a few...choice...activities; you'd like to try with them."

"What else did you hear?" Akira was beginning to feel nauseated at the prospect of his mother overhearing them discuss her visit the previous summer.

"Not much else." Sachiko's ears and cheeks were now a bright red, and he watched as she busied herself with gathering the ingredients for the sauce she was planning. "After the first time, I trained myself to ignore your talks because frankly once was enough."

"Thanks, I think," said Akira as he took out a clean knife and began chopping up some of the herbs.

While she and Akira began preparing the herbs, Sachiko gulped loudly and asked, "Are you two at least being safe?"

"MOM!" Akira began laughing followed shortly by his mother.

"It's a legitimate question." Sachiko gathered up the ingredients and tossed them into a pan. "I understand you're young and think you're in love and feeling something like that can sometimes make people forget to take the necessary precautions."

"You mean like you and dad?" This question earned Akira an elbow in the ribs and a glare from his mother.

"You're not cute," she said as she began showing him how to prepare the sauce. "And no matter what your father says, you weren't a mistake."

"I never said he was a mistake." Grunted Kurusu Osamu as he wandered into the kitchen. Save for the graying hair, bloodshot eyes, and scruff of a beard, Osamu looked like a mid-forties version of his son. "I said he was a 'happy accident.' Don't go putting words in my mouth young lady."

"I'll say whatever I damn well please," chuckled Sachiko as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss her husband's cheek. "Besides, you were the one who forgot to put on the..."

"I don't need to hear this!" Akira turned his attention away from the food for and glowered at his parents. "You're going to make me sick before we even eat."

"I don't doubt it." Osamu wandered over to the stove and looked at the creamy sauce his son was stirring. "I thought you only knew how to cook curry?"

"I've been teaching him off and on since he came home. Something you'd know if you stepped out of your office when we cooked dinner." Sachiko began prepping a pot with some water and salt before shooing her husband away. "He's becoming a decent enough cook, but he still has a long way to go."

"We did raise him to be self-sufficient," mused Osamu took the spoon his wife offered him and dipped it into the sauce. "Not bad needs a little more cayenne in my opinion. Why are you two making this anyway?"

"It's his last lunch at home before heading off to college." Sachiko came up and gave her son's bruised cheek another painful pinch. "I wanted my little boy to have something special before he left us again not to mention that I've been meaning to come up with a few new recipes for work."

"Can you please stop that," howled Akira as he put the pot of water on the stove. "God, I'm not going to be able to eat at this rate."

"Please leave him be," Osamu said with a wink at his wife before taking another bite of sauce, narrowly avoiding the splash of hot water that came with Akira pouring the pasta into the pot. "Well if you want my opinion later I can give it to you, my love." As he set his spoon in the sink, Osamu looked between his wife and son and asked, "Unless the two of you would rather spend our remaining hour or so before leaving discussing our son's love life?"

"God, can you two just…." Akira set the ladle he was using down on the counter just a bit too hard and ran his hands through his hair after shutting off the stove and stared at his father his eyes wide in realization as to what his father had just asked. "She told you about my...?"

"Yes and no," muttered Osamu as he gave his son an embarrassed look. "I mean your mother did tell me about your relationship, and I heard you tell Ryuji about where you planned on taking them for dinner the first chance you got a few months ago."

"For the love of...," Akira rubbed his temples before returning his attention to the stove. "You two have known for months, and instead of asking me you keep quiet, and you give me shit about keeping secrets?"

"First of all, watch your language, and second, we weren't keeping it a secret from you," grunted Osamu as he placed a hand on his son's right shoulder. "We know you've been having trust issues and if you look at how you've been acting with us and we didn't want to upset you."

"Don't." Akira shrugged his dad's hand away and rubbed the slight twinge of pain. "Don't shrink me and don't touch my shoulder. I've been having problems with this one."

"Then you should have told us about it" Osamu looked somewhat dejected at his son shrugging him off. "We could have taken you to the doctor and had it looked at or a chiropractor."

"I've got a doctor," replied Akira, sounding angrier than he wanted. "I'll see her first thing tomorrow."

"That's good to know," muttered Osamu with a concerned look to his wife. Sachiko merely shrugged and moved Akira away from the stove and took over while Osamu said, "And I want you to know that I'm not trying to 'shrink' you, okay? I'm your dad, and I love you. I know you're mad at us for sending you away, but you can trust us. We believe enough in you to at least understand why you wanted to keep it a secret from us?"

"It's not you...not completely." Akira continued rubbing his shoulder.

"All right." Osamu pulled the sauce off the stove and set it on the counter for his wife's later use. "Then what is it? You don't have much time before you leave and I don't want you leaving home angry."

"I don't either," sighed Sachiko as she drained the pasta. "We let you leave angry once; we don't want to do it again. We want you to start your life properly this time; you deserve that."

"Then just be honest with me," groaned Akira as his shoulder finally popped back into place. "Don't act like you care if it's just a joke."

"Akira," Osamu took his son's face in his hands and smiled. "We want to know, okay? We want to know whatever you want to tell us about whoever this...girl..boy...I'm not..."

"I'm dating a girl, Dad." Akira rolled his eyes and looked at his mother who was snickering behind his father's back as she retrieved some plates. "Really, Mom?"

"What? It's not like we're against it if you were dating a boy." Sachiko set the plates down and grabbed some forks. "I just find it funny that your father would feel the need to mention it."

"Well, it's not like I know all of his preferences." Osamu snorted as he turned his attention to plating food. "A lot of people begin experimenting around this age, so I just wanted to make sure before he started telling us….whatever it is he wants to tell us."

"Thanks for your support," huffed Akira as his mother approached with a plate of food.

"Don't get all huffy; we're respecting your boundaries, so the least you can do is at least be a little nicer to us." Sachiko pointed at the plate she'd set aside for him, and he joined them reluctantly. After her son took it, Sachiko dug into her food and smiled. "You did very well for a first time, Akira. I'm sure she'll enjoy it when you finally cook this for her."

"I hope so." Akira bit into the food and smirked at how good it tasted, it wasn't as good as his mother would have made it, but he was satisfied at least until his father began questioning him again.

"So, are you going to tell us what's bothering you or are you going to leave us in suspense?"

Setting down his fork, Akira quietly said, "I just want to get out of here. I don't like being here anymore. I don't mean here at home," he added hastily. "I mean the town. It's pretty clear that I don't belong here anymore. Everyone's heard of me, and if it weren't for Akane or Gin, I probably wouldn't have been able to find a job to save up enough to move out on my own."

"You know there are more people than us and those two that believed in you," answered Sachiko as she stopped eating. "Some people spoke on your behalf to that reporter who came around asking about what happened that night."

"And a few of those teachers wrote those letters of recommendation for you," Osamu added after his wife. "Most of them have had nothing but positive things to say about you since you've been back."

"I know." Akira had heard about a few of these people and knew that most of the issues at his school were because of the student body and not the administration, but the damage had done.

"I know what people have done for me in this town but...," Akira sighed and set his phone

"How long have you been seeing her," Osamu asked after eating almost half his food.

"About a year," Akira coughed as he wiped his mouth with a towel. He and Sadayo had come up with a few answers that they hoped would satisfy his and her parents until they were comfortable with revealing most of the truth about their relationship. "We started dating a bit after I left school. We met up back when I went back to Tokyo for that long weekend that fell on Futaba's birthday. We started talking and then after a while decided to give dating a try."

"Is she older? Younger?" Sachiko took a sip of water and continued eating, her gaze never leaving her son's.

"Older." Akira choked after chewing a piece of pasta. "She's out of school, and she's working, so if you're worried about her wanting whatever is in my bank account, you don't have to worry about that."

"We're not worried about that, son." Osamu set aside his plate and sighed. "Despite however angry we were about your 'adventures' last year we trust your judgment; we do believe in you. Okay?"

"Whatever you say, Dad." Akira could hear the sincerity in his dad's voice, but in the back of his mind he couldn't help but feel the smallest bit of distrust begin to fester.

"Your dad is telling the truth." Sachiko gave her son a tight hug and kissed his cheek and apologized as she wiped a stray bit of sauce. "We do trust you, and if you're this embarrassed to tell us about her, then we know she's pretty special."

"She is," Akira said smiling sheepishly at his mom. "And I don't think I love her, Mom. I know I do."

"That's good." Sachiko gave her son another pinch on the cheek and smiled when he pulled away. "Are you going to see her tonight?"

"Ummm..." Akira looked at both his parents, the blood pooling in his face as he faced the point of no return. He and Sadayo had agreed to at least tell them he'd be moving in with her, but that didn't stop his stomach from wanting to vacate itself all over the kitchen island.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" chuckled Osamu as he began clearing the dishes.

"Osamu!"

"Oh don't start with me," he laughed as his wife swatted him with her towel. "If this were England he'd probably be in a bar getting drunk with his friends tonight. He's a grown man, and if Eiko were the same age and was dating someone, I'm sure she'd probably do the same thing. He's an adult and if he wants to spend the night with his girlfriend then let him.

"It's not just tonight," Akira said rather quietly, but his words fell on deaf ears as his mother began assaulting his father with swats from her towel.

"What was that?" Sachiko turned away from her husband, a huge smile still on her face as he rubbed the spot on his backside where she'd gotten a particularly good whack.

"I said I'm not just going to be spending tonight with her."

"Oh," Sachiko gave her husband a look, and they both shrugged in compliance. "That's fine, spend two or three days with her. You've got a little time before you start work and school. You two can spend some time reconnecting and enjoying one another's company. It's been a few months since your last trip back there, I'm sure she'd love to see your new apartment."

"That's the thing," Akira rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his parents, praying internally that they wouldn't lose their minds. "I'm not just going to spend one night or two nights with her. I'm going to be spending every night with her. You see, I….I'm….I'm moving in with her, into her apartment."

The only sound throughout the entire house was the sound of the water pouring from the kitchen sink. His father's jaw had clenched shut and his mother looked like she'd been punched in the stomach. It was better than he'd expected but not as good as he'd hoped. He could the beginnings of frustration burn in the back of their eyes as thousands of questions began forming in their brains and at that moment he wished he could take back everything he'd said up to that point.

"You're moving in with her?" Sachiko stared at her son and sighed, her fingers rubbing the side of her head. "I...I...Osamu?"

"I don't…," Osamu raised a hand and then dropped it. His cheeks puffed as he inhaled and let out a low deep exhale. "I mean, you're just about to start college and..."

"And you just said I'm an adult and that you trusted me." Akira felt his hands begin to shake at the sudden hypocrisy. "Why is it any different if I live with her or live by myself?"

"I know what we said," Osamu looked at his son, his eyes trained on his son's hands. "You are an adult, and we do trust you, it's just..."

"It's just what?" Akira looked at his parents. "You don't trust her? You haven't even met her."

"That's part of it," said Sachiko, trying to keep her husband and son calm. "I mean we barely just got over the fact that you won't be living at home anymore and to have this sprung on us, it's a lot to process. Right, Osamu?"

"Sure," sighed Osamu as he rubbed his temples like his wife previously had. "It's a lot to take in, a lot more than I initially thought." Osamu looked at his son, lines of tired brimming around his eyes as he spoke. "I mean you are right about us not fully trusting her. You've been through more than we can comprehend, and we know you can handle yourself..but have you thought about what doing something like this after only a year can do to you?" Osamu looked up at his son and asked, "What happens if you two don't work out? Have you thought about that?"

"I'm gonna move in with Yusuke if things don't work out," shrugged Akira as his parents looked at him once more in disbelief. "What? Did you think I wouldn't have a backup plan? Like you said I've been through worse than not being able to live with my girlfriend."

"Yeah well, that was our fault for thinking Sojiro could keep you out of trouble," chuckled his mother.

"He did a pretty good job once summer came around." That earned the teen a grin from his parents, and he felt himself calm just a bit.

"I'm still gonna have to chew his ass out about that," Osamu grunted. Akira could see his dad begin to relax, but he couldn't help but notice something else was on his dad's mind.

"What's the matter, Dad?"

Osamu shook his head and crossed his arms, eyes locked on his son as he asked, "Does Sojiro know where you'll be staying? I mean he is the one picking you up from the station, so I'm pretty sure he's known about this for a while."

"Yeah," confirmed Akira with a curt nod of his head, "Sojiro knows about...about us. He's known for a while. But," Akira continued when he saw the anger begin to well in his dad's face, "I'm the one that made him promise to keep quiet. So if you're gonna be pissed, be pissed at me for making him lie."

"I'm not pissed at you, Akira," Osamu grumbled as he looked at his son. "I'm just frustrated at the fact that your mother and I are finding out about you are moving in with a woman, neither of us have met three hours before you leave. I mean do we even have an address to find him at in case something happens?"

"I have it and the landline right here," Akira pulled his wallet out and handed his dad a slip of paper. "I was going to give it to you before I left and Mom mailed my boxes there a few weeks ago, so she already had it."

"You already had the address?" Osamu stared down at the slip of paper and studied it for a moment before looking at his wife.

"You knew I had the address," snorted Sachiko as she flicked her husband's forehead. "I asked you if there was anything you wanted me to mail him the day I sent out the packages, and you said you didn't."

"I did?"

Both mother and son groaned at the man's forgetfulness. While Osamu may have been good at his job, there were times when he'd become so engrossed in something that he'd completely forget about any interaction he had with people while doing it.

"You…...," Sachiko looked like she was about to smack her husband but decided against it. Instead, she began finishing up the dishes, hands moving furiously beneath the hot water as she ignored her husband's absent-minded nature. "Yes, I did ask you and a fat lot of good it did me since you didn't even bother to pay attention."

"Well pardon me for having patients to take care of on an almost twenty-four-hour basis."

Akira could hear the annoyance in his father's voice as he and his wife began bickering. It was a common enough argument between his parents that Akira knew that they would burn themselves out quickly. He'd heard them argue enough about how they both became too engrossed in their work to pay attention to the other. After about five minutes they had both tired themselves with their argument and apologized to one another with a few soft kisses.

"Are you two done," Akira groaned when he saw that this might go a little further than he'd have liked.

"Sorry, sweetheart," chuckled Sachiko after one more kiss from her husband.

"I'm not," coughed Osamu as he gave his son an embarrassed smirk. After regaining his composure, Osamu reread the address and asked, "Is this a decent neighborhood?"

"It's pretty nice," said Akira without much thought. "Nothing fancy, but it's safe, and the building is pretty modern, so we don't have much to worry about regarding things like power outages and stuff like that."

"Are you okay with this?" Osamu turned back to his wife who was now putting away the remaining food.

"We don't have much choice in the matter," whispered Sachiko as she shut the fridge. "He's made up his mind and as you said he's an adult. Even if he had moved in with Ryuji he'd eventually move in with her at some point; I just wish you two had been dating longer before deciding this."

"I know," Akira's feet fidgeted at his mother's gaze. "But, we wanted to try, and there's no harm in that, right?"

"It can be a problem." Osamu looked at his son, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Rushing into things like this can have huge ramifications. If this goes badly, and it can, there is no guarantee your relationship will survive."

"So you're telling me I should just not try after months of planning?"

"We're not telling you what to do." It was Sachiko who spoke up, her face as stained as her husband's. "We're asking that you take into consideration all possibilities. Even your father and I had moments when we thought we wouldn't make it after moving in with one another. It's a completely different situation than spending a couple of nights together and then leaving because now you have to go back and face that person."

"We've already had something like that happen on Valentine's Day." Akira could still hear the disappointment in Sadayo's voice as he remembered their conversation. "She already chewed me out for not telling her the truth and leaving her to worry about me for months. I learned my lesson, and I'm not going to do that to her again. If one of us screws up, we promised each other that we'd work through it."

"Some promises can't be kept, no matter how hard you try." Osamu relaxed against the kitchen island, his fingers drumming along his bicep in thought. "But, you've already planned this, you have a place to live, you're both working, and you're going to be miles away, and like your mother said we can't stop you."

Osamu stepped forward and placed a hand on his son's head and ruffled his hair.

"All I can do is wish you good luck and if you need anything don't be afraid to call us. You may be an adult, but we're still your parents."

"I'll keep that in mind." Akira let his dad give him a gentle pat on the cheek and gave his mother a nervous smile. "Are you sure you're not mad?"

"I'm not mad at you or her." Sachiko sighed as she gave her son a strong hug. "Just promise us you'll have her call us as soon as she can, And you better bring her home to meet us!"

"Okay, okay," Akira grunted when he felt his mothers small fist gently punch his stomach. "We were planning on having you meet her when Eiko and I are on summer break, is that okay?"

"That's fine," breathed Osamu as he looked over at the microwave clock and sighed. "Dammit, it's almost time for us to get your sister. Akira go get your bag and find Morgana; we need to get moving."

"Dad," began Akira but his father cut him off with a raise of his hand.

"We'll talk more about this later." Osamu began rummaging through his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed. "What's most important right now is getting you on that train."

"Thanks, Dad," sighed Akira as he walked by his father.

"Don't thank me yet," grunted Osamu after confirming his keys were where he'd left them. "I'm gonna have questions for the two of you when you formally introduce us to her. And I want the truth is that clear?"

"I'll talk to her about it," promised Akira. "She's got some things in her past she might not be comfortable with telling you about, but we'll tell you as much as she's comfortable with."

Nodding, Osamu headed to the door and after putting on his shoes grunted, "You damn well better."