Yosuke's dad fiddled with his son's blazer, making sure it was buttoned and his tie was tied, and Yosuke's other dad fussed with his rucksack, inserting all manner of books and pens and pencils.
"You guys…" the brunette frowned, exasperation clear. "It's high school. You gotta let go. It's not cool to have parents who care."
Arthur stood back, arms folded, frowning, because no matter how hard he tried, he actually couldn't get his son to look decent. Was it the hair? It was a little long. No, what about the headphones - wildly inappropriate for school.
"Cool or not, young man, you are not turning up today without the proper attire."
"Don't worry about that, Arthur," Francis mumbled from his place on the floor, French accent clashing with his husband's British. "The bag is much more important, is it not? Remember, Yosuke? When you forgot your lunch and got so hungry you started crying."
His arms were flailing, cheeks scorching with embarrassment. "Th-that was the first year of middle school!"
"History has a way of repeating itself."
Well, he had to admit, they would know. They were some freaky human versions of England and France, after all.
A/N: my friend requested this as a joke and i wrote it as a joke i hope you had fun