Disclaimer: Non-H-named characters property of Rumiko Takahashi, and this is a work of fanfiction, not for profit.
Yeah, that'd be the day. Hideo switched off the radio. His parents were flawed and ordinary, but he loved them. They didn't need to be superheroes.
"Daddy?"
"What, baby?"
"Are we there yet?"
Hideo gave his daughter a smile in the rearview mirror. "Almost."
"Go Gramma Grampa house!" Hideo's son chipped in.
"That's right, small fry. We're going down the street...and tuuuurning...and-"
"There's Gramma Grampa house! There's big minivan!"
"There's a big minivan," Hidori corrected primly.
Hideo laughed and swung the sedan into the driveway. He and Amanda had considered getting a minivan, but that would take all the fun away from getting to ride in Grandma and Grandpa's, wouldn't it.
As soon as they were released from their carseats, the two children made a beeline for the door through the autumn leaves.
The door swung open to meet them.
"Gramma!"
"Hello, dears!"
"Is it the rugrats, 'Kane?"
Hideo's father came out through the side door.
"Grampa!"
Ranma scooped Hirohito up.
"Hey, son," Ranma said to Hideo. "Want me to carry those?"
"No, I can get it." Hideo followed his father inside with the bulky diaper bag, listening to Hidori launch into a long, involved tale about preschool with Gramma outside.
"Pet kitty."
Ranma released Hirohito. "Want some tea?" he asked Hideo.
Hideo grinned. That teapot was a running joke. "Are you sure you don't need some first?"
Ranma laughed, flipping his – or, at the moment, her- red pigtail over his shoulder.
Hideo swept his eyes around the kitchen and smiled fondly, thinking about the radio show a few minutes ago. His parents were weird enough as it was.
There was a new crack in the ceiling, a deep one.
"Dad, you really have to get those fixed."
"Oh." Ranma winced. "Yeah, that's...new. I didn't see it there. We patched up the others," he added somewhat defensively.
"Are you sure this place is safe?"
"I'll get Uncle Ryoga to take a look at it."
Uncle Ryoga was a building inspector. Hideo accepted that statement with a mug of tea.
"So whatcha been up to lately, Dad?"
"Oh, um...a friend of ours...dropped...by. Do you remember Uncle Taro?"
Hideo was looking out the kitchen window at the leaves. They were really flat, and there was a big depression in the ground. Haha, dropped in, he joked to himself. "Yeah, a little...did you and Mom do something new with the backyard?"
"Oh, yes, we're...rearranging it a little. Landscaping. Before winter sets in."
Come to think of it, his parents rearranged the backyard a lot.
"Put down some sod?"
"Oh, no. Grass is much too delicate."
Yeah, his weird parents had always liked their yard mossy.
The sound of water running made Hideo start. "Hey, do you and Mom have guests now? I'm sorry. You didn't mention it over the phone. Is it Mr. Taro? I can take the kids back –"
"No, no, it's Uncle Ryoga. He'll want to see the kids."
"Oh, I should've known. Of course; he's taking a shower." For some reason, Uncle Ryoga almost always took a hot shower when he visited.
"So how are you and Amanda doing?" Ranma asked, pushing a bag of pork rinds at him. "Don't tell Mom," Ranma amended, gesturing to the bag.
Hideo nodded. "We're doing all right," he began.
A few minutes later, there were the sounds of Uncle Ryoga emerging from the bathroom, getting lost, and consulting his GPS.
"Damn technology," they heard him grumble. "I programmed the bathroom and the kitchen separately but it can't tell three meters apart?"
"Turn left at the intersection," the GPS voice commanded smoothly. "Turn left at the intersection. Make a LEFT turn at the intersection."
There was a pause.
"Recalculating," said the GPS voice.
"We're over here," Ranma said, laughing.
Uncle Ryoga put his head through the kitchen doorway. "Oh, this is the kitchen?"
"Yeah, and how many millions of times have you been in this house?" Ranma asked.
"Hello, Hideo."
"Hello, Uncle Ryoga."
"Have either of you seen my pack?" Uncle Ryoga ran a hand through his bandanna-less hair.
"It's over here," Hideo said. Yep, there was Uncle Ryoga's good old umbrella. He went to retrieve the pack, putting out a hand to move the umbrella out of the way.
Uncle Ryoga lunged at him. "That's okay, I'll get it." He swept up the umbrella, and there was a sharp thock as it hit the counter.
Uncle Ryoga cowered under Ranma's glare and bent down to rifle through his pack.
Hideo looked closely at the counter. "Dad, did that umbrella just take a chunk out of the wood there?"
"No, I did that this morning," his mother said, coming through the door. "I was working out and dropped one of my weights. Are you boys eating pork rinds?"
Hideo glanced at his two sleeping children in the rearview mirror. He hoped they would grow up happy. He would prefer it if they ended up respecting him and Amanda, too. But, at least he knew that he didn't have to be a superhero in order for that to happen.
