"Mission Start!" Amamiya Akira whispered to himself as he slid along the wall leading to the kitchen. Mom was sitting at her desk, out of uniform but lost in work like usual. Dad wouldn't be home for some time. Now was his chance.

Akira put his hands on the kitchen counter and lifted himself, his feet pushing off the ridges of the drawers. He avoided the ones filled with pots that might jostle or otherwise make noise. He raised his head once atop the counter, his mess of black frizz just grazing the cabinets as he stood upright.

Mom hated when Akira stood on the counters. She worried he would fall. He wasn't sure why. He always felt completely at ease. Even on his tippy-toes as he was now (to sneak of course) he moved without hesitation. He began to wonder if he was too good at it.

Reaching the refrigerator, he began to shimmy his way up. Aunt Haru's cookies were in the far cabinet right above it. He couldn't reach it from the counter. He wondered if even Mom could. She certainly couldn't reach it from the floor. Only Dad could.

Akira was halfway through hoisting himself up on the refrigerator when he felt a pair of hands at his sides.

Mom.

"Stop." Though it was an order, her motions were gentle, slow, and sure. He didn't fight them. Soon Akira had his arms and legs wrapped around his mother. She was supporting him beneath his bottom, bouncing him lightly. He instinctively leaned in. Mom was always so warm and soft. "What did we say about Aunt Haru's cookies?"

As expected, there was no getting past Mom. Akira looked up at her, deep red eyes wide, feigning as much innocence as possible. "I was just exploring."

Mom only raised her eyebrows and pressed her lips together, making it clear she saw through his fib.

"Um, Mom," Akira lowered his head, looking up at his mother through his thick mop of hair. "Will you do a puzzle with me?"

Mom's gaze shifted up, like she was thinking, before looking him directly in his eyes. "Are you all washed up for bed?"

"Yes."

"Are you prepared for school tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"That was a very fast yes." Mom's eyes narrowed. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing in school tomorrow?"

Akira pouted but then perked up with an idea. "Can I tell you while we do a puzzle?"

Mom looked up again, biting her lower lip as a smile crept up her cheeks. She turned back to him. "Okay."

Once set down, Akira ran off to the shelf with all the puzzles and games. He eyed a 500 piece one but knew there was no way Mom would allow it this late at night. He picked out a 100 piece puzzle that he knew she liked because it had Buchimaru in it. By the time he got to the living room, Mom was already sitting on a cushion by the coffee table.

Akira opened the box and let the pieces spill on the table. The two of them started to sort the edge pieces from the inner ones.

"So, what's this thing for school?" asked Mom as she pressed her finger on a piece, sliding it along the table.

"It's easy Mom," said Akira, his focus on the puzzle pieces. "We just gotta talk about a leader we know."

"Oh?" Mom looked up at him. "So who are you going to talk about?"

"You of course!" Akira smiled broadly as he matched his mother's gaze.

"Hmm," Mom brought her hand to her chin. He had expected she'd be happier. "Why me?"

"Because you lead a whole police squad!" Akira tried not to be deterred by her lukewarm response.

"Oh? Then what are you going to say?" Mom looked down at the piece before her, her lips raising just a little. Dad said you had to be careful when she made that face.

"I'm gonna tell everyone that my mom leads a police team." Akira watched his mother carefully for any sign of what she was thinking.

"I see." Mom fit two edge pieces together. "Is that what makes me a leader?"

"Of course! Everyone has to listen to you because you're the boss!" Akira balled his hands into fists, making little punching motions. He imagined his mother leading her squad into a fight with the bad guys.

"I don't think I'd be effective if that's the only reason they listened to me." Mom continued to build the walls of the puzzle. Akira looked over at the length of her chain. It was still shorter than his. He was proud of that fact. She picked up another piece. "What about your father?"

"Mo-om," Akira rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "He's not a leader."

"No?" Mom looked up at him.

"No. He doesn't lead a~nybody," Akira drew out the last word, taking his hands off of his hips and motioning with his palms face up. "He just helps people with stuff."

"Is that so?" Mom tilted her head. "Then why do people follow him?"

"...follow him?" Akira asked slowly. He put his hands on the table.

"All those people he helps, they do what he says, right?" Mom was looking him straight in the eye.

"That's cuz he knows what they hafta do," said Akira. The skin between his eyebrows creased. "They need his help."

"Yes but... I wonder why they believe him." Mom's gaze was firm.

Akira paused, thinking. "Well... it's because Dad works really hard on their cases."

"They respect that hard work, don't they?" Mom twirled a puzzle piece between her fingers. Her voice was soft. "I don't think my squad would listen to me either if I didn't put the work in too."

"I guess," Akira rested his cheek against a fist, propping himself up with his elbow on the table. "But everyone works hard right? They can't all be leaders."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because everyone can't be the boss," Akira explained.

"Everyone can't be the boss at the same time," said Mom. "But people can show leadership as the situation merits."

"...as the situation merits?" Akira's brow furrowed further.

"Hmmm," Mom brought her hand before her mouth again, a puzzle piece between her fingers. "Depending on what the goal is, different people act as a leader. For example, when Dad wants to change up his workout routine, who does ask?"

"Uncle Ryuji!" Akira put both hands on the table and opened his eyes wide. He loved it when he could answer Mom's questions.

"That's right," Mom smiled. "And who do we go to for advice on electronics?"

"Aunt Futaba!"

"See," said Mom. "Different people lead at different times."

"But how do you know who's supposed to lead when?" Akira frowned.

"Ah, that's the tricky part," Mom's smile broadened. She sifted a few puzzle pieces on the table, pushing one pile closer to him and drawing another closer to her. "Sometimes there's someone given the responsibility like me, but many times there's not. Then you have to figure it out amongst yourselves."

"So everyone has to fight to be leader?" Akira brought his hand to his chin.

"It's usually the opposite," said Mom. She stopped sorting the puzzle pieces. "No one steps up. No one does the work. That's when things go poorly."

"So what do you do?"

"When you see that happening, try to act like a leader."

In the pause that followed, Mom returned to fitting the pieces together, looking up from time to time at her son.

Akira began putting pieces together too, mirroring the movements of his mother. A question brewed in his mind, finally taking form. "Won't people get mad at you for being bossy?"

"Well, you can't just start ordering people around." Mom slid a piece that seemed to match his section over to him. "However, you can start organizing and you can ask people to do things. If you treat others respectfully, they'll be glad for the direction. Your father is very good at this."

"Huh." Akira stared down at the puzzle. They had worked their way in from the edges. Only a few big holes remained.

"Your father is also good at leading by example," Mom's eyes seemed somewhere far away as she smiled again. She turned her attention back to him. "Aren't you always asking the barber to cut your hair like his?"

Akira felt his cheeks getting warm. He hated blushing in front of Mom. "Th-that's..."

"And picking out clothes like his?" There was a melody to Mom's voice. She was teasing him.

"M-mom!"

"So," Mom said as she got up. She walked around the table and sat by him so they could both see the picture right side up. Working more quickly than before, she began helping him fill in the last few spots. "Are you going to talk about Mom or Dad at school tomorrow?"

"Still Mom!" Akira shouted as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. She gently stroked his hair. "...but, I think I have more to say now."

"I'm happy."

Akira felt very warm. Mom was really the best.

The sound of a metal lock brought the attention of both mother and child to the front door. Dad had returned. He slipped out of his shoes, walked into the living room, and smirked. Akira tightened his grip on Mom.

"I'm home," said Dad.

"Welcome home," Mom said and Akira mumbled.

"A puzzle, huh?" Dad leaned over, picking up and piece and fitting it into position. He sat down across the table.

"I picked it out," said Akira. He let go of Mom and started placing the pieces faster. It was easier with so few remaining.

"Good choice," said Dad. The three worked in unison on the few open areas left.

"Last one." Mom offered the remaining piece to Akira. He took it and fit it in place.

"It's done!" Akira raised both his hands in the air. Dad got up and walked around the table, looking down at the puzzle.

"Nice work," he said.

"Good job," said Mom. "But now it's time for bed."

"Okay..." Akira slumped. At Mom's coaxing, he stood up and walked to the bedroom. Both his parents followed to tuck him in. When Mom's back was turned, Dad gave him a knowing look. He smirked in return.

––––– ––––– –––––

"Sorry about that," said Ren. He walked up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her stomach and leaning his head over her shoulder. He gave her a peck on the cheek. "It was an emergency. I know you've got that deadline."

"It couldn't be helped," said Makoto, tilting her head to accept his kiss. "Akira mostly amused himself."

"Is that why you were assembling a puzzle?" Ren grinned.

"That was only for the last hour. I caught him trying to get into Haru's cookies," Makoto laughed. "It's so unlike him. I think he was restless."

"I'm not so sure that's what he was after." Ren released his wife and walked over to his bag. He pulled out a piece of red construction paper, crudely cut into a card-sized rectangle.

Makoto walked over, taking a look at the card. There was writing in black crayon:

I'm gOing tO sTeAL Mom. - the FanTUm tHeEf

"Oh my," Makoto brought her hand in front of her lips and giggled. "Whoever could that be?"

"I don't know," Ren chuckled, raising his eyebrows. He snaked an arm around his wife's waist, maneuvering himself so they were facing each other. "But he needs about 100 years more experience before he can even consider out-thieving me, especially when it comes to my most valuable treasure."

"He is learning from the best," Makoto smiled as she looked up at her husband. "So tell me, what is your next heist?"

"Why, I'm going to steal away some of that stress of yours," Ren grinned. He leaned down as Makoto lifted her head. Their lips met in a soft kiss. He brought his other hand around, kneading his thumb into her shoulders where he knew she stored tension. She whimpered into his mouth as he hit all the right spots.

As they parted, Ren planted one last kiss on Makoto's forehead. He turned towards the kitchen. "Go back to your deadline. I'll brew some coffee."

"Mmm." Makoto nodded, already feeling more relaxed. She looked down at the construction paper calling card she was still holding. That boy really did follow his father. She smirked.

Well, it wasn't a bad thing.