Kazama stood at the doorway, a small smile slowly appearing on his face. "Oi, Ryo, did you finish your homework?"

For a 10-year-old, his back was too straight like he was still at school. Ryo kept his attention on the TV, fingers deftly pressing the buttons on the controller. "Would I be playing with my video game if I weren't done, Dad?" He paused the game mid-attack, torturing the computerized opponent in a frozen state of humiliation. He turned around to look at him—big brown eyes like his mother, dirty blonde hair like his father, a beautiful mixture. "Although I doubt you'll find any mistakes, I'll be happy to show you my work, if you don't believe me."

The mouth on this kid was more proof than any DNA analysis. Kazama shook his head and sat down next to his son. He grabbed a second controller and pressed "start" without asking if Ryo was done playing his single mode. Ryo scoffed under his breath and quickly glared at his father.

"I haven't played this game in a while," Kazama said, flashing Ryo a smirk.

"Sounds like you're already making excuses for when you lose," Ryo clapped back. "Don't expect me to go easy on you."

Goddamn, the mouth on him, Kazama thought. He narrowed his red eyes at him playfully and stuck his tongue out for good measure. "You mean, don't expect me to go easy on you, Son."

Ryo rolled his eyes hard but kept his mouth shut for now.

After a few rounds, there was no question who the better player was. Kazama gritted his teeth, fingers smashing the buttons in desperation. Ryo kept his cool, a smug grin on his face that was all too familiar to Kazama. "We can play chess instead, if you want to get even with me. That's what old people play, right?"

Kazama's pride was wounded. He never expected to be schooled by his own son, at least not this early in his life. His trash talking was masterful, probably picked up from hanging out too much with his Uncle Shiranui. That bastard. "No, I'm just getting acquainted with the moves."

Ryo let out a long sigh, almost sounding like a groan. "Really, Dad. I'd hate to see a grown man cry." He wasn't even using his best player anymore, randomly choosing a character.

Kazama was ready to play dirty, by any means necessary. "You know, your sister is my favorite child," he said with a deadpan tone. He peeked at the side of his eye, desperately trying to read his son's reaction.

"Understandable," Ryo answered, letting out a quiet huff. He kept his eyes glued to the TV, unfazed by Kazama's words. "I'd be insulted if I cared about your opinion."

Those words nearly gave Kazama a whiplash as he snapped his attention toward his son, wide-eyed in surprise (with a little bit of hurt behind them). "Hmph," was all that he could reply.

"Boys, dinner is ready!" Chizuru shouted from the kitchen. Tiny footsteps made their way inside Ryo's room and Kazama beamed as tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Hey, princess," Kazama cooed, grabbing his four-year-old daughter into his lap. She laid her hands on top of Kazama's, pretending to play the game like him.

"Oh, cool, Haruka. You can watch Dad lose to me," Ryo teased. He chuckled lightly, and Kazama was more determined than ever to defeat him.

Haruka's presence may have been a blessing. It was the third round and Kazama was a few jabs away from winning. Chizuru shouted again, but Ryo and Kazama ignored her and kept their focus on the game. One last punch…

"Game's over, you son of a bitch!" Kazama lifted his arms in victory, dancing around in the room. He looked down on his two kids, both staring at him with their jaws wide open. "I won, Son! I won!"

Chizuru popped her head inside the room, her face bright and cheery with curiosity. "What's all the commotion about? Come on, let's eat!"

Ryo and Haruka ran to their mother, hugging her tightly. "Dad said a bad word," Haruka tattled, her voice whiny like she was about to cry. Kazama's eyes went wide, a gasp escaping him as he looked at a furious Chizuru.

"Yeah. Dad called you a bitch," Ryo added, looking all innocent at her. With one arm wrapped around him, Chizuru rubbed his shoulders lovingly like she was soothing the hurt away. Ryo flashed Kazama a wicked smile, then buried his face into his mother's stomach, feigning hurt and pain.

"You two go and set the table while I have some words with your father."

"Look, Chizuru, it was an accident," Kazama explained, taking a few steps back to give distance between them. "I didn't call you a bitch, per se. I was playing a game, and…" He took a deep breath, eyes pleading at his wife. Chizuru had a spatula in her hand, and she waved it in front of her like it was a sword.

"Chizuru, please," he begged once more. She raised her arm above her head, and Kazama's gaze flicked up at the grease-covered spatula. It was inevitable, and he sighed in defeat. "Fine, I deserve it. Okay, just don't hit me in the face." He closed his eyes and waited for the impact. He felt soft lips brush against his, and his eyes snapped open. He cupped Chizuru's face to pull her in, deepening their kiss.

"He's only 10 and already besting you," Chizuru said, pecking kisses under his jaw.

"Yeah, what a little devil we made."