Takara sat the backpack on the counter to begin loading it with the gifts she had bought to give to the Bakugos. First, in went the box of chocolates she purchased from the artisan candy shop near the bakery where she also bought two of the Forbidden Fruits. There was also a bottle of dessert wine in a tissue paper filled box to keep it safe. She picked sweet things purposely in an effort to ingratiate herself to them and "sweeten them up" so to speak.
Glancing around the kitchen, trying to make sure she was not forgetting anything, she blew out a noisy breath. She nervously smoothed back her hair which she had pulled up into a ponytail then twisted into a tight bun. Hopefully the helmet wouldn't mess it up too much since they would be taking the motorcycle today.
She was so nervous about meeting his parents it did not occur to her to be scared of the big powerful machine. Besides, she trusted Katsuki to keep her save especially on such an important occasion.
"You look beautiful," a familiar sweet and gentle voice murmured in her ear.
"Oh, god," she gasped, jumping and wrenching her body away from him. "You scared the hell out of me."
"I'm sorry," Izuku apologized with a chuckle. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back into him for an embrace. "You'll be fine. They're going to love you."
"Oh, yeah," she huffed, turning in his arms to face him. Her eyes met the unassuming forest green ones full of truth and love. "How do you know they're going to love me?"
"Because Kacchan loves you," he whispered, as if it were a special secret between the two of them.
Before she could issue a negative response, he planted his lips firmly and squarely on hers. Takara had never been told to shut up in such a wonderful way. When he lifted his mouth, she rested her forehead on his chin, closing her eyes to relish the warmth of his hug.
"Your mom raised a wonderful son. I can't wait to meet her some day," she said, noting his arms constricting around her to tighten the embrace.
"I know. One day you will. I promise. Thank you for being understanding and patient," he returned, carefully cradling her head at the back to avoid mussing her hair.
"It's what you do when you love someone, right?"
"Right."
They heard the key pad beep as Katsuki punched in the code. Izuku continued to hold her as the blonde clomped toward the kitchen without taking off his heavy biker boots. For a minute he stared them locked in an embrace, patiently waiting. His expression held neither jealousy nor anger. The ONLY man beside himself he is okay with touching Takara is Izuku.
"Mi Cara, are you ready?" he asked in a low voice when his patience did meet its end.
"Yeah," she replied, receiving a kiss on the forehead from Izuku.
"They're going to love you," Izuku assured her again, reluctantly relinquishing his hold on her and stepping back.
Takara picked up the backpack but required Izuku's assistance to get it on her back and distribute the weight in a manner where it didn't cause her to almost topple backwards. Katsuki had told her to dress casual so she did wearing black skinny jeans and a plain red t-shirt along with her black leather jacket and lace up knee high boots in preparation for the ride.
Katsuki had dressed pretty much the same way with the exception of his t-shirt being orange. She had noticed early on these two had a personal color scheme and stuck to it. It had to make clothes shopping a whole lot easier by streamlining one's choices by color.
"That looks heavy. We can strap it to the bike," Katsuki suggested, lifting it up to alleviate some of the pressure on her back when she stepped in front of him.
"It's fine. I'd rather wear it to keep things safe," she said, adjusting the padded straps. "It's a short trip right?"
He shrugged. "Relatively. The chocolate will be fine. It won't melt."
"As fast as you drive, it won't have the chance," Izuku said without a hint of sarcasm.
Katsuki's mouth formed a lopsided smirk as if agreeing with him. "Let's go, sweetheart. Later, Midoriya."
"You two be safe," Izuku called after them.
"You know I will take good care of her," Katsuki called back over his shoulder.
"I know."
Takara waved at Izuku as they turned to descend the stairs. She kept her focus on his precious smile until she could no longer see him. As soon as she lost sight of her emotional anchor, the butterflies returned in full force, fluttering around like crazy in her belly until she felt nauseas.
Katsuki straddled the motorcycle and kicked it into life making it roar with deafening volume. He put on his black helmet and handed her the red and black helmet with cat ears he had bought just for her.
"This is new," she said, slipping it over head.
"It is," he confirmed.
Takara could hear his voice clearly inside the helmet as she buckled the chin strap. "Microphones?"
"Yep."
"Cool." She grabbed his shoulders, leaning toward him in preparation to get on without falling backwards.
"Now we don't have to yell at each other while riding. Get on," he ordered her although she was already in the process of throwing her leg over the seat.
The fear Takara felt as they took off is from what lay ahead at the inevitable meeting with his parents. They left the busy innermost part of the city where they lived to go to a more suburban area where apartment buildings and high rise office towers gave way to lots of single family homes grouped together in neighborhoods along with the occasional convenience store, trendy coffee shop, and random family restaurant.
They entered a neighborhood that was a mix of old and new. Stately traditional manors on sprawling plots of land were interspersed among groupings of much newer modern homes on smaller parcels.
The motorcycle turned onto a street that dead ended straight ahead but split into either direction. Katsuki pulled into the driveway belonging to the house facing them at the dead end. A tall wooden fence painted dark brown surrounded the mansion like modern home with three floors, balconies, and a rounded turret like outcropping up front.
Is this castle like house where he grew up? Katsuki never struck her as being much of a prince type, but that was one of the things he adored about him - he never is how he seemed to be at first glance.
He punched a code into the keypad on the column beside the gate. Blinking red lights and several beeps followed alerting him his code was not correct. The box buzzed then a voice came a across that was definitely feminine but harsh and gruff like his.
"Yeah? Whaddya want? Whatever you're selling, we ain't buying," she warned.
Katsuki made a sound somewhere between a groan of embarrassment and a growl of annoyance. Jerking off his helmet, he pushed the white button.
"It's me, Mom," he announced. "Why did you change the damn code?"
"Me who?" she retorted.
Takara chortled under her helmet, thankful he had taken his off so he could not hear her.
"Mom! Just open the freaking gate, would ya?" he demanded. "You knew I was bringing Takara over to meet you today."
"Fine, spoilsport," she grumbled irritably and such an oh so familiar manner to her son.
The gate silently swung open wide allowing them entrance to the driveway tiled with paving stones the same light cream, almost white, color of the bricks of the house. It was so stately, so beautiful. She had not expected something so elegant and understated. Her eyes moved up the three floors of the house to the green tiled roof. Or so big. They might not be filthy rich but the boy sure had never suffered for anything. To think he had the nerve to call her a spoiled brat.
The front door of the house opened as Katsuki pulled the back pack off of her back. A woman that for the love god looked exactly like the female equivalent of her son stepped out onto the front patio. Takara suddenly felt better about her choice of clothing when she saw his mom dressed in faded ripped blue jeans, a white tank top, and a pink cardigan over that. Her light blond hair is slightly longer than her son's, but just as spiky and untamed. Her ruby colored eyes are mostly the same as those of her child only a little less narrow as they harshly scrutinized their guest still hiding under the helmet.
His father came out next looking exactly like a dad should - just not Katsuki Bakugo's dad. Takara would never believed this man to be his father had she seen him out on the street. He had short mouse brown hair that stuck up all over the place which made her smile. Their son did not have a prayer in escaping the wild hair gene. A set of kind brown eyes looked at her from behind rectangular lenses surrounded by thick black frames. Forgoing jeans, he was just as casual in knee length khaki cargo shorts and a dark green polo shirt.
After taking a deep breath, Takara pulled off the helmet, sitting it on the seat of the motorcycle beside Katsuki's. She took off her jacket and lay it over his outstretched arm.
"Mom, Dad, this is Takara Otani. Takara, this is my parents. My mom, Mitsuki Bakugo, and my dad, Masaru," Katsuki introduced them.
Takara bowed then stepped forward to offer her hand for a handshake in greeting. She hoped she did not offend them by doing so, but it was just a habit she had formed over the years when meeting people from all over the world.
Masaru stepped forward first, taking her hand then laying his other one over the back of it. "It's so nice to meet you, dear. Katsuki has told us all about you."
"He has?" she murmured. Katsuki had never been the talkative type especially when heaping on compliments or singing someone's praise. She slid him a sidelong glance but he turned away, grabbing the handlebars of the bike.
"I'm going to put this is in the garage," he announced, rolling it toward the side of the house where the garage was obviously located.
"Well, well," Mitsuki said, eyeing her up and down as she stepped up to greet her. "You are a pretty little thing."
"Thank you?" Takara could not tell if she was being sarcastic or serious. Katsuki was looking more like an exact clone of his mother right down to his personality.
"Honey, bring Takara in," Masaru requested, turning to go back through the front door. "You ladies go to the living room and get acquainted while I make us some tea."
Oh, my, I'm going to be all alone with the lioness, she thought.
"Follow me," Mitsuki Bakugo commanded her guest, pivoting on her foot with the crisp precision of a soldier executing an about face.
"Yes, ma'am," Takara responded, barely resisting the urge to salute. She wasn't sure if his mother would appreciate her patent brand of sarcasm and cattiness yet.
She shrugged off the backpack so she could take off her boots in the foyer without falling over on her head. Two pairs of black slippers waited by the step. She assumed the small set belonged to her and the other Katsuki. His mother waited for her set her boots by the step and slide into the slippers before continuing down the hallway that rose in three different places.
After the first level up there was a room that appeared to be a living room to the right, but her hostess did not stop there. Going up two more steps and another level, Mitsuki Bakugo turned into the room that opened to the left. Takara assumed the third level led to the kitchen and dining room beyond the alcove on the right. The left probably led to a staircase to reach the second floor.
This living room actually looked like an office and Takara suddenly felt like she had stepped into an interview rather than a meet and greet with her boyfriend's parents. Two couches, one white and one brown, faced each other with a coffee table in between. There was also an unlit fireplace at one end of the room which managed to amplify the cold and formal appearance. The flat screen TV mounted to the wall over the fireplace displayed a lovely static picture of a sidewalk carpeted with pink cherry blossoms and lined by the trees in full gorgeous bloom seconds before it changed to a mostly green forest scene.
Takara waited for his mother to take a seat on the white couch before she took a seat across from her on the brown one. At least the couch was soft and comfortable. She sat the backpack between her slippered feet.
"I brought you some things," she declared, taking out of the tall thin box holding the wine.
Her belly tightened apprehensively when she saw the bow on top got crushed a little on the trip here. She gave his mom an apologetic smile, then quickly looked away when Mitsuki's eyes did not move from the slightly smashed bow.
Next she removed the white bakery box tied with red ribbon. It had faired much better. Thank goodness. She would have been mortified if the doughnuts akin to an artistic masterpiece had gotten crushed.
Lastly, she pulled out the black lacquered wooden box filled with ridiculously fancy chocolate. She had paid extra for the box so his parents could keep it to use for other things. Hopefully it would act as a poignant keepsake from their first meeting.
"Are you trying to bribe me into liking you?" his mother asked bluntly, opening the lid of the chocolates.
"Yes," she admitted freely.
His mother pulled out a chocolate truffle dusted with a mix of cocoa and chili powder. She hoped for another case of like mother, like son in that she liked spicy things too. If not, she would find herself a place high on the woman's shit list right quick and in a hurry. Gulping as Mistuki sat the round confection on her tongue, she felt as if her dry throat was sticking to itself.
What the hell is taking so long with that tea?, Takara wondered. Not only did she need a drink, but she was positive his father might be the only catalyst in keeping her alive should this fierce woman not like that unusual mix of spice and chocolate. There were also chili flakes inside the truffle.
Mitsuki's face turned pink and her lips puckered yet she said nothing. Instead she picked up the box containing the bottle of wine, snatching off the ruined bow.
Takara chewed her lower lip, also pondering where her boyfriend had ran and hid. Soon both of her questions were answered as Masaru entered the room carrying a tray laden with all of the necessary components for an English tea. She breathed a sigh of relief when his son followed him in.
"Miss me?" Katsuki asked, carelessly flopping down onto the couch beside her.
"Of course I did," she replied, giving him an evil eyed expression that begged the question 'where the hell were you?'
"I was helping, Dad," he said as if catching the question in her eyes. He was getting really good at reading her mind. An impressive talent most men could not master after many years of marriage.
"I hope you like this. I assume it's something you're familiar with," his dad announced proudly.
Takara did not have the heart to mention that not only was she not British, but American and Japanese, she preferred coffee. Gazing at the assortment of bite size sandwiches and cakes along with scones, jam, and what appeared to be clotted cream, she was definitely impressed. Although five seconds ago she was not sure she could eat anything, she was tempted to pick up one of the delicious looking little petit fours coated with white icing and decorated with a single pink rosebud made of frosting.
"This looks fantastic. Thank you so much," she said, reaching for one of the small cakes while his father poured the tea from a cream colored teapot.
"What is all this?" Masaru inquired, glancing at the box of chocolates and the bottle of wine sitting on the table. His wife did not touch the white box.
"I brought a few gifts. Just to say hello," Takara added with a shrug.
"Just to kiss our ass," Mitsuki muttered, gazing into the box of chocolates.
"Mom!" Katsuki exclaimed.
"Yeah, that too," Takara agreed, feeling her face heating with embarrassment.
"Did Takara tell you she's a musician, dear?" Masaru asked, offering his wife a cup of tea.
"We hadn't gotten to that yet," his wife said, finding the second spicy truffle in the box and popping it into her mouth.
Takara exhaled, finally able to breath. Apparently she liked spicy things too.
"A musician huh? Do actually make money doing that?" Mitsuki inquired with the same tactfulness her son often employed.
"A little," Takara answered curtly, sticking out her pinkie and raising the delicate china teacup to her lips.
"You don't expect my son to support you do you?"
"I do not. I pay my own bills. As a matter of fact, I met your son because I moved into the apartment next to his. By myself," she added pointedly, meeting his mother's eyes over her teacup.
"With help from your parents right?" Mitsuki challenged.
Takara shook her head and sat down her cup which rattled against the saucer. She was beginning to slowly lose her grip on her temper. Accusing her of being a gold digger or filching off of her parents was something she could not abide.
"As a matter of fact, I've been supporting myself for a while now. My father froze my accounts and refused to allow me access to any of his money when I refused to come home and live under his roof," she candidly confessed.
Even though her father still controlled her to a great degree, he had lost some of his control in some areas of her life. Slowly, she was beginning to work her way out of his grip.
"I do quite well for myself, Mrs. Bakugo. I don't want your son's money. The only thing I want is his love. Beyond that, I ask for nothing," Takara stated rather sternly, stubbornly holding her unwavering glare.
The corner of Mitsuki's mouth twitched. For seconds that seemed like minutes the two women engaged in a silent battle neither one breaking eye contact. The stone faced woman finally broke, the hard line of her mouth softening into a little grin of approval.
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear," Mitsuki said. "Actually I know who you are. My son and husband have been quite fond of your music for years. You're a very good cellist, dear. I should have known you weren't just a star-struck hero groupie."
"Actually, Mom, Izuku talked to her first. I didn't even like her when we met," Katsuki piped up. "I thought she was just some spoiled rich kid with a diva complex."
His impromptu and unnecessary honesty came as no surprise to Takara. She knew he did not like her when they first met, but hearing it out loud still stung a little.
"You're an asshole, son," his mother admonished him.
"What?" He glanced from his mom to his dad and then to Takara as if wanting someone to explain to him what he said wrong.
"Should I open the wine now?" his father asked, picking up the bottle.
That actually sounded like a good idea to Takara but she shook her head. "It's a dessert wine. It will go well with the pastries in that box. I brought them to have after dinner. The wine should be refrigerated though."
"Oooh, sounds delightful. Dinner will be ready about six. I'll go put this in the refrigerator," Masaru announced, standing up to take the bottle to the refrigerator.
"Takara, would you like to see some pictures of Katsuki when he was a baby?" Mitsuki inquired.
"Oh, yes, please," she replied excitedly.
"Mom, no!" Katsuki yelled.
"Come with me," his mother said, standing up. "I'll take you see his room first."
"MOTHER!" he bellowed.
"Oh, come on, son. I just want her to see the boy before he became a man. Go see if your father needs help," she ordered him rather than asked.
Katsuki ignored his mother's wish and followed them out of the living room and to the end of the hall.
Just as Takara had suspected, a staircase built in between the walls led up to the second floor. She took his mother's outstretched hand to be led up the stairs with Katsuki right at her heels.
"Mom, could you not - "
"What are you afraid of? Your bedroom is just like you left it," Mitsuki announced, opening the first door on the left.
The room was actually pretty much like the one in his apartment only three times bigger. A twin size bed, neatly made, was positioned in the middle of one wall. There was a desk with bookshelves occupying one corner and a nightstand with a lamp on the far side of the bed in the other corner. There was also the addition of a sitting area attached to his room that had been turned into a gamer's paradise with a large screen TV, a table laden with not just one but two gaming consoles in addition to several handheld consoles, a bean bag couch, and several matching bean bag chairs.
"I saw my drum set is still out in the garage," Katsuki said, plopping down on a white bean bag chair that looked like a gigantic marshmallow. "I figured you would get rid of it at some point."
"Why would I get rid of it? You still play right?" his mom asked.
Takara vibrated with excitement while waiting for his answer. The idea of getting him and his fellow bandmates back together still intrigued her and was gaining a higher place on her to do list.
Katsuki switched on the console as if attempting to block out his mother. Picking up the controller, he finally answered, "I would like to. I just never have the time."
"Well, make time, son," she said, glancing at Takara. "It looks like your priorities have shifted. Don't forget to make time for the things that are important to you."
Takara's view of his mother changed in an instant. Mitsuki Bakugo is a fierce lioness indeed. She is protective of her son and loves him very much. She only wants the best for him and for her child to be happy.
"Okay, Takara, let's go get that photo album," she said, leading her out of the room.
They went to the third floor to what is definitely a library. Floor to ceiling shelves lined every wall and was filled with books of all sorts. There was a computer on the desk in front of the huge arched window. The desk was meant for serious work or study. There are two green leather wingback chairs and a couch in the middle of the room for sitting and reading casually.
Takara sat down on the couch while his mother retrieved a photo album that looked just like a huge leather bound book. She smiled as the woman sat down beside her and opened the cover to start from the very beginning by showing her his newborn picture taken at the hospital. His mouth was wide open in a scream and his face red with fury. White blond hair stood up from his little round head giving him the appearance of a dandelion that made her giggle.
"He was angry right out of the gate, huh?" Takara ventured.
"Oh, yes. When I was pregnant with him, he moved around so much it was actually painful and would make me nauseas. I think he practiced boxing on all of my internal organs. The only easy thing about that boy was his birth. After only four hours of labor he arrived screaming and complaining, already angry at the world," she remarked with a sigh, flipping the page.
There were precious few pictures of a smiling Katsuki even as a baby. He looked particularly annoyed in the pictures where he had been dressed up in cute outfits and posed by a professional photographer. He had what appeared to be a stereotypical childhood filled with lots of days playing in the backyard with his parents, going on yearly family vacations, and spending summers with friends.
Izuku appeared in pictures occasionally. It seemed like a pure accident he appeared in the picture at all as if he was a part of the background scenery. He had once told her had spent most of his childhood running after Katsuki, trying to catch up to him. She had no idea he meant it so literally.
The teenaged Katsuki Bakugo was a slightly thinner but muscular and shorter not to mention almost feminine pretty version of the man she knew now. As if the resemblance to his mother was not already apparent, he looked even more like her, albeit a slightly more masculine and far grumpier version, between the ages of twelve and nineteen.
There were many pictures of him in his hero academia uniform. Each year of the school festival was documented, most of them with him almost completely hidden behind a set of drums. On graduation day not only did he receive his diploma from All Might but a congratulatory hug as well. Although Katsuki frowned, the pride on his face could not be hidden.
When he turned twenty is the time when his body took a growth spurt not only in height but width gaining several inches of bulky, brawny muscle as he transformed into the pro hero and man Takara presently knew and loved.
"Now, we can begin a whole new album," Mitsuki said as she closed the tenth and final photo album. "Wedding pictures...baby pictures. I hope you have a girl. I really want a granddaughter."
Takara's belly flipped and flopped like a fish out of water. Also like that fish, she felt like she could not breathe. Her body heated, and she was sure she was blushing.
"Well, uh...uhm...We'll see what happens," she said not really sure what to say.
"I should go downstairs and see if Masaru needs help with anything," Mitsuki announced, a lopsided grin on her face. "That man is helpless without me."
Takara smiled. She doubted that. Masaru had to be a strong, independent, and extremely secure man to be able to love that woman which he obviously did. Even in the short interactions she had seen between the two of them his pure adoration of his wife had been evident. Katsuki had his father's tenderness that he showed only in their quiet, private moments together when no one else could see.
"Is it okay if I stay here a while and look through these again?" Takara asked, picking up the first album.
"Sure. I'll send Katsuki up to get you when dinner is ready."
"Thank you."
Takara stared down at the picture blindly as her mind skidded sideways. As much as she wanted marriage and children, and she wanted them with Katsuki, there was also another person in their relationship. Not to mention the myriad of other things to consider.
What would Izuku think if Katsuki did ask her to marry him? Where would that leave him? Would the threesome be over, and he would go on to find someone else?
What would Katsuki expect of her as a wife? Would he expect her to end her career and stay home after getting married? Or would that wait until the birth of their first child? Barefoot and pregnant, in the kitchen making sandwiches had never been a picture of the future she saw for herself. She damn sure didn't see it now either.
She didn't want to end her career. Retirement had never even crossed her mind. She had planned to do what she loved as long as she could without considering purposely quitting. Her plan was to et it simply ebb away as these things sometimes did. When no one no longer hired her to play in their orchestra or bought her music, then she would quit.
As far as children went, she definitely wanted at least one but beyond that she was not sure. What if Katsuki wanted to have his own baseball team? And when would they start their family? Would they try to expand their family immediately after getting married? How many years would they wait? What if they waited too long, and she could no longer have children?
"God," she muttered, placing a cold shaking hand to her hot forehead and closing her eyes.
"Takara?"
The male voice calling her name pulled her back into the present. Her eyes focused on the blond man with face she loved, the face a lot like his mother's, as he squatted in front of her. He cupped her cheek with his big warm hand, studying her face carefully with a worried expression on his face. The crease between his eyebrows grew deeper when her eyes met his.
"What's wrong? Did my mom say something to hurt your feelings? She didn't mean anything by it. You know how it is. I'm a lot like her and you know how - "
"Katsuki, stop," she croaked. Clearing her throat, she tried speaking again. "I've just been thinking...about a lot of things."
"Uh oh," he muttered, moving to sit beside her. He took both of her hands in his. "What kind of things? Should I be worried?"
"Marriage. Children. Our..." She pulled her hands out of his to raise them and crook her fingers into air quotes. "Special relationship. I just don't know where all of this going to go. What if - "
"Hey," he said roughly, taking hold of both of her hands in one of his and pulling her head down toward him with the other to cradle her head in the crook of his neck. "Don't think about all that crap right now. We don't have to have all of the answers right this second. No one is asking us to make a definite decision. Yes, I think I would like to marry you, but not yet."
Takara should have been relieved but she wasn't. Rather than being put at ease, she felt more apprehensive than ever. Did he view their relationship as temporary? Oh, he thinks he wants to marry her now but he might change his mind later if he gets tired of her or if a better option comes along.
"Stop it," he ordered her sternly.
"Stop what?" she shot back.
"You know what," he murmured, turning his head to kiss her forehead. "Stop all that damn thinking. You're going to give yourself a headache."
"Too late."
"See."
They sat in silence for a minute, He toyed with her left hand, his forefinger rubbing back and forth across the lower part of her ring finger where a wedding band would go.
"We just need to see what happens. I haven't forgotten this relationship includes more than the two of us," he whispered.
Then the solace she had been seeking rushed through her body. Like warm water being poured over her head, a sense of ease and calm filtered through her body allowing her to relax for the first time since she woke up today. It helped her to know he had been considering the same things she had.
"Kids!" Masaru yelled up the stairs. "Dinner is ready."
"Shall we go?" he asked, lacing his fingers with hers. "I'm starving."
"Me too," she returned, standing up and pulling him up with her.
Takara was happy to see he had not tried to cook a dinner geared toward what Masaru thought her tastes would be. A traditional Japanese dinner of miso soup, salad, grilled salmon, rice, and pickled vegetables awaited them. Once again, she sat situated across from Mitsuki and beside Katsuki.
"So what do you do in your spare time, Takara?" Masaru asked.
"I volunteer at the children's hospital. I enjoy doing a lot of work with the children. Not only raising funds for the hospital but also spending a lot of time with the kids. They are amazing and inspire me so much," she said. "These kids are so strong, so happy and positive while facing something so terrible, I can't help but be awed by them. They're my heroes."
"So you love kids?" Mitsuki inquired with a raised inquisitive eyebrow.
Takara glanced at Katsuki who met her gaze. Testing their seeming telepathic connection, she pondered if his mother was going to be one of those kinds of mothers who push and nag for grandchildren. The transmission seemed to work because he shrugged then shook his head.
"I do," Takara confirmed to answer the question posed to her.
"Takara even talked me into going with her one day," Katsuki interjected before his mother could ask any direct and uncomfortable questions about children. "I held a premature baby. She was so tiny. It was like holding a doll."
Both of his parents froze and gawked at him with their food paused in mid air on the way to their open mouths.
"You did what?" they asked in unison.
Katsuki went to talk about the whole experience of cuddling the preemies. As he spoke about how holding them changed his attitude toward children, relationships, and life in general, Takara stopped eating so she could stare at him. The warm affectionate feeling she always had toward him grew until tears filled her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Katsuki asked her when he noticed her brimming watery eyes.
"Oh, nothing," she sighed, wiping the corners of her eyes with her napkin. "I just never expected to hear such sweet things come out of your mouth."
"Well, it's all your fault," he muttered, picking up his water glass.
Takara chuckled. "Okay. I'll happily take responsibility for that."
"Oh, you two are just so damn cute," his mother commented. "It makes me want to vomit."
Katsuki sprayed out his mouthful of water, soaking his father. Mitsuki laughed uproariously as did Takara.
"Dammit, Mom," Katsuki growled, wiping water up from the table while his father dabbed at the water speckling his face and shirt.
After dinner, they all went back to the living room where they started out. Rather than having another awkward conversation, they decided to watch a movie instead to give everyone a break. Katsuki picked a brainless action thriller, lots of explosions and car chases. Takara actually appreciated the choice because it would not allow any segues into anymore conversations about marriage or children.
"We should be going," Katsuki declared before the credits even began rolling.
"It's way past your bedtime isn't it?" Mitsuki teased him.
It was ten o' clock so it was definitely past his usual bedtime but he no longer went to bed so early between work and Takara coming into his life.
A rumble sounded outside.
"Is that thunder?" Takara asked.
They walked out into the hall. A lightning flash lit up the entire hallway blue coming in from the windows in the sitting room and around the front door.
"Oh, dear," Takara sighed dejectedly when they opened the door to see rain pouring down like a monsoon had blown up.
"And you came on the crotch rocket," Mitsuki remarked disapprovingly. "Didn't you check the weather report?"
"Didn't occur to me, Mom. I'm not over forty yet," he retorted, closing the door.
"Ugh," she groaned rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest. "Well, it's perfectly fine if you stay here tonight. There's still clothes in your room. No showering together."
"Can we sleep together?" he quipped, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.
"If you sleep, son. Only if you sleep," she repeated, stressing the word sleep both times.
"What about dessert?" Masaru suggested, his cheeks burning red.
"I'll take the wine," his wife replied, walking up the stairs.
"Me too," Takara called out, following her into the kitchen.
"I'll pass," Katsuki said. "I'll be in my room playing a game."
"Is it okay if I take this upstairs?" Takara asked as Masaru poured her a glass.
"Sure thing," he replied. "It's been great having you here."
"Thank you for having us. I also appreciate you allowing us to take shelter for the night as well. Thank you, Mitsuki. Is it okay if I call you that?" she quickly inquired, hoping she had not assumed too much.
"It's fine," the woman assured her with a small smile. "Maybe one day you can call me Mom."
Takara clutched the stem of the glass tightly. "Yeah. Thanks for everything."
"Have you noticed how nervous those two get when we mention marriage or kids?" Mitsuki asked her husband when the woman nearly ran out of their kitchen.
"Give them a break, Suki. They're young, and they haven't been together too long. Don't assume just because he brought her to meet us the next step is marriage," Masaru returned.
"But isn't it though?" She slammed her hand down on the counter. "How many of that boy's girlfriends have met? Huh?"
"Well - " He took a long sip of his wine almost draining the entire glass of the super sweet alcohol.
"None. That's how many!" she snapped, filling in her own blank. She took a sip of the wine and grimaced. "Man that is sweet."
"It is indeed a dessert wine, my love," he reminded her, refilling his glass and emptying the bottle. "Let's go watch another movie. How about a romance this time?"
"Okay," she sighed, grabbing his hand. "Come along, dear. But I pick the movie."
"All right."
Meanwhile upstairs, Takara rifled through Katsuki's drawers and closet searching for something suitable for them to wear to bed while drinking her wine. She settled on one of his black t-shirts and a pair of his boxers for herself and a pair of sleep pants for him by the time she finished the glass.
"Hey, think it would be okay for me to take a shower?" she asked, tossing the clothes on his bed.
"Sure. Down the hall, second door on the right," he directed her while lobbing a grenade at his unseen enemy pinning him down behind a car receiving a hailstorm of bullets.
Takara rolled her eyes, snatched up the t-shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts to go down to the bathroom. Flipping on the light she was treated to a dazzling vision of blue tiled walls and a white tiled floor. The walk in shower was twice the size of the one in her apartment. When she turned on the water, it poured from the top of the back wall like a waterfall.
"Whoa," she gasped.
After luxuriating in an extra long shower in the spa like bathroom, she dressed in his clothes and returned to Katsuki's room with her other clothes in hand. As she stood at his bed, folding her clothes, she felt him move up behind her.
"I never imagined my underwear would look so sexy on you," he whispered, gliding his hand over her taut round behind stretching the cotton cloth tight. "I can't wait to get you out of them."
"Katsuki, you should take a shower. A cold shower," she added, when he pressed his hips into her behind.
"Did you really think my mom meant that?" he asked, turning her face him.
Takara placed her hand over his mouth, blocking him from kissing her. "I do. And I want to respect them by NOT doing it. Besides, we will be home tomorrow. You can wait one night."
"Ugh," he groaned, backing up from her. "I can't even kiss you?"
"Lead me not into temptation, my darling. A single kiss will lead to a whole lot more. You know that."
"Fine," he muttered, keeping his eyes on her as he backed toward the door.
"Don't forget these," she said, throwing the sleep pants at him. She laughed when the legs wrapped around his head.
"Thanks," he grumbled, pulling them off and closing the door after crossing over the threshold.
Takara pulled back the covers on his bed, settling into the pillows. She just meant to relax, but by the time he came back into the room, she was out like a light.
Katsuki stood over her, just staring down at her. He rubbed his hand over her head. She had not even taken her hair down from the bun which made him smile. She looked like a ballerina. His little dancer who couldn't carry a tune in a bucket if her life depended on it. Bending over her, he placed a kiss on her forehead. Takara stirred and snorted, reaching out for him.
"Are you coming to bed?" she asked drowsily without opening her eyes.
"Uh huh," he replied, slipping under the covers to fit his body to hers as she rolled onto her side. "Good night, sleepyhead."
"Good night. I love you."
Katsuki squeezed her until she grunted which made him quickly release his powerful grip. "I love you too, Mi Cara."