Ichigo stood on the front steps of her house and wondered if it was too late to turn around and bail.

She made a quick mental calculation of how hard it would be to lie to her parents about being sick. She created a fake scenario in her head – "oh, stomach flu, you know, really wouldn't be able to enjoy dinner without having to go to the bathroom every five minutes!" – before she remembered that she still lived here, and she'd have to fake throwing up in the bathroom all night for them to buy it.

She glanced up at Quiche.

Maybe he could fake being sick.

He was the picture of confidence, looking back at Ichigo with a grin and a curious brow. He'd been taking Pie's ear-shrinking concoction for a few weeks, so his bizarre appearance was somewhat minimized, save for his eyes. He'd grown quite a sizable wardrobe for himself over the past few weeks, and wore a dark grey cashmere sweater on the crisp fall day. One hand held Ichigo's in his, and the other held a bouquet of flowers.

Ichigo wondered to herself if she was completely out of her mind.

"Are you sure about this?" Ichigo hissed up at him.

"Sure am, kitten," Quiche replied. He squeezed his hand in hers. "It's only fair, you know. Since you've already met my mother."

"Yes, but, it's like I said," Ichigo mumbled, "my parents can be, uh … difficult."

"Nothing I can't handle," Quiche said breezily.

Ichigo wasn't sure which was worse: her annoyance with Quiche's brazen confidence, or her fear that Quiche was about to get his ass handed to him.

She didn't have time to worry about it for long. The door flew open, and Ichigo's mom stood in the entryway, beaming at them with a welcoming smile.

"I thought I heard you two out there!" she said. Her eyes fell on Quiche, where she looked him up and down owlishly before smiling wider. "You must be Quiche Rannells! It's lovely to meet you."

"Likewise – it's a pleasure," Quiche replied with a wide smile.

He'd explained the fake name to Ichigo earlier. He'd selected an American-sounding family name a while back, when he was first establishing a paper trail of his identity in Tokyo.

Ichigo's mom gestured for them to come inside. Quiche and Ichigo obliged, stepping after her into the entryway. Quiche slipped off his shoes and handed Ichigo's mom the flowers. "These are for you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

"These are lovely!" Ichigo's mom proclaimed, taking the bouquet from Quiche. She took a long breath, smelling the full, colorful bouquet. "Where did you find lavender at this time of year? It smells wonderful!"

"Lavender is one of my favorites," Quiche replied.

Ichigo shot him a pointed look. She hadn't noticed the lavender in the bouquet. There was no way he hadn't included it on purpose. Something stirred in her chest at the memory she'd replayed so often of assembling lavender lemon tarts with him in the Café Mew Mew kitchen – and the memory of a kiss while covered in purple lavender icing. It felt like that night was ages ago — when, in reality, it had only been half a year.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her dad, who came around the corner with a booming tone to his voice, "Well, well, well, we finally get to meet the new mystery boyfriend!"

Her dad crossed his arms and looked Quiche up and down. "You're a foreigner, aren't you?"

Ichigo cringed. "Dad!" she chided. "Don't be rude!"

Her dad shrugged. "He doesn't know to bow when he meets someone. A bit disrespectful, but since he's a foreigner, I'll give him a pass."

Quiche laughed nervously and gave a short, awkward bow. "Sorry," he said. "It's very nice to meet you. I'm still a bit unaccustomed to life in Japan."

Ichigo's dad narrowed his eyes. "A bit of an accent, but not bad," he remarked. "Language skills are remarkably good. American, right? Your accent sounds Western."

"You're right," Quiche replied quickly. "American. My family is from New York."

"Why don't we all head inside and sit down?" Ichigo's mom offered, interrupting her dad's interrogation. "I still have a few more minutes left on dinner."

Ichigo closed the door behind them, and she and Quiche followed Ichigo's dad into the sitting room. She still felt terrified at the very idea that he was here, in her house, and that her parents would somehow find out who he really was. She only hoped that Quiche's confidence matched his ability to keep up a façade.

Ichigo and Quiche sat next to each other on the main sofa, and her dad sat down on an armchair across from them. It felt like a job interview. Ichigo found the whole thing terribly awkward, folding her hands on her legs and picking at her nails on one hand.

"So, Rannells," her dad started as he sat down, "tell me again how you and my daughter met?"

Ichigo fought the urge to answer the question for Quiche. They'd rehearsed this one. He just had to repeat exactly what she told him to say–

"You can call me Quiche," Quiche replied arily. He sat with his arms crossed, slumped slightly on the sofa – as if he'd already made himself at home. "It's comfortable for me as an American if you'd like to use my first name. But, to answer your question — Ichigo and I met at work. I got a job at Café Mew Mew for the summer. We were on the schedule a lot together, and found we got along well."

It wasn't exactly what she'd told him to say, but close enough.

Her dad narrowed his eyes and crossed one leg over the other. "Ichigo didn't mention she'd gotten new coworkers this summer," he replied skeptically. "In fact, she hadn't mentioned you at all until a couple weeks ago. And now you're on a first-name basis with her."

"I just didn't think it was that important to mention," Ichigo blurted out. "I, uh … the new coworkers, that is. There's two more people working at the café that Quiche is friends with, named Pie and Tart. They're both really nice."

"Both boys?" her dad clarified.

"Um, yeah," Ichigo said sheepishly.

Her dad looked from her to Quiche, his expression looking more and more perplexed by the second. "Interesting," he remarked. He turned to Quiche. "So you've been working at the same café as Ichigo for a few months, then? How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two months."

"Th-three weeks!" Ichigo squeaked, correcting Quiche quickly. She glanced between Quiche and her dad's confused visage. "He means three weeks. We, uh, started talking two months ago. It's an American thing to say 'seeing each other' means it's when you start talking to someone new. Right, Quiche?"

She looked up at Quiche with a pointed glare. He obliged, studying her expression for a moment before smiling and nodding to her dad.

"Right," Quiche said. "We've been dating for about three weeks."

"Hm. Awfully early to have someone meet the parents," her dad said. "Not that I mind. Just seems a bit strange."

"We've, uh, known each other for longer than three weeks, though," Ichigo offered. "So it felt right that I should introduce him now that we're, uh, exclusive. Also, I met his mom already!"

"You did?" Ichigo's dad said in surprise. He turned to Quiche and tilted his head to one side. "Your mother also lives in Tokyo?"

"She was just passing through," Quiche replied. "Maybe next time she's in town, we can all go out together."

Ichigo inwardly cringed at the thought of loud, discourteous Cici meeting her parents and undoubtedly embarrassing her son in front of them, as she often did with Ichigo.

"Perhaps," Ichigo's father replied, nodding thoughtfully. "We'll see. Now, remind me – how old are you?"

"20," Quiche replied – his age in Earth years.

"Age 20, working at a café, not living near parents…" Ichigo's dad started. "How do you expect to provide for my daughter?"

"DAD!" Ichigo interjected.

"No, it's a fair question," Quiche said with a grin and a short laugh. "I took the café job mostly because I was bored. My whole family works in investment banking, so my income is mostly passive and doesn't require much upkeep. I needed something to do, and wanted to meet people – so I started at the café."

Quiche recited the story perfectly. It was only a half-lie, really. Pie's venture into building wealth on Earth was going swimmingly, and Quiche's own assets were growing sizably by the day.

"At your age?" Ichigo's dad asked, surprise dotting his done. "I guess family money will do that kind of thing. You live alone, then? Work from an office?"

"Yes … and no," Quiche replied coolly. "I recently bought an apartment in Minato, in the same building as a friend of mine. I manage my portfolio from home."

"Where in Minato?" Ichigo's dad prodded. "I used to work there."

"Mori Tower," Quiche said. "It has a nice view."

Ichigo's dad sat in stunned silence for a moment before sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Unbelievable," he said with a sigh. "You young people don't have to work hard at all to be able to afford something like a high rise apartment in Minato. What a strange time we live in."

"Don't be rude, dad," Ichigo snapped. "Him and his family have worked plenty hard for everything they have."

"I'm sure, I'm sure," her dad replied with a wave of his hand. "Regardless, I'm glad you can at least pay to take my daughter out for dinner every once in a while. She's very high-maintenance, you know. Unless you already figured that out."

Ichigo let out a long, disgruntled sigh and held her head in her hands. She should have known that meeting her dad would be a disaster.

Quiche gave a short laugh. "I don't think she is at all, actually," he said. He reached one arm behind Ichigo and rested it on the sofa behind her shoulders. "Ichigo is a very special girl. I don't think it's high-maintenance to treat her like a princess. After all, I'd suppose you'd do the same."

It came off like a challenge. Ichigo tried to hide her frustration at Quiche's defensive remark. Maybe her dad's prodding was getting to him more than he let on.

Her dad cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow. "You've got a lot of nerve, Quiche. I don't know what to think of it quite yet, but I suppose I'll keep giving you the benefit of the doubt since you're a foreigner."

Quiche raised his brows in mild surprise. "Oh? Did I say something rude?" he said. "Apologies. I'm still a student of the culture here, and I sometimes carry the wrong tone in Japanese."

Ichigo felt the tip of one of Quiche's fingers lightly drawing a circle on her shoulder. The touch nearly made her flinch out of her skin, and she knew her dad could see it. She felt like giving Quiche a swift elbow to the ribs, but she knew it would be better to act natural.

"I, uh," Ichigo stammered. "I'm going to go help Mom in the kitchen." She stood from the sofa and gave her dad a wide-eyed glare. Then, she turned and escaped to the room over, where the scent of garlic chili oil wafted in between notes of citrus and steamed rice.

She knew she was leaving Quiche to the proverbial wolves, but she didn't know how long she could put up with her dad's annoying remarks, or Quiche's cocky responses before she snapped at one (or both) of them. She tucked her hair behind her ears and found a bundle of untouched green onions next to her mom. Ichigo knew the recipe her mom was making by heart, and set to work chopping the green onions on a small cutting board.

"So," Ichigo's mom started. "How do you think they're getting along out there?"

"As well as could be expected," Ichigo sighed. "I have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

"He's certainly … different from Aoyama," her mom remarked. "Maybe it's because he's American."

Her mom giggled to herself, pausing to measure sesame oil and drop it in the skillet. "He's really cute, Ichigo. You found a good one."

Ichigo felt a blush blooming on her face. She smiled and continued chopping the green onion. "That's not going to win dad over, though," she sighed. Her mom laughed.

"You two work together, right?" her mom asked. "I remember you told me that's how you met." She paused momentarily. "I have to admit, I was a bit surprised you'd found someone new … you know, after that awful breakup you went through this summer. What made you decide to start seeing Rannells? He must be really special."

Ichigo set down the kitchen knife and thought carefully about how to answer the question.

"You can call him Quiche," Ichigo offered first. "It's an American thing to call someone by their first name right away."

She let out a long sigh and glanced over at where Quiche and her dad were still seated in the living room. Her dad had a Go board on the center table, and was pointing to an example of a configuration he'd started. Quiche nodded thoughtfully, appearing to be intently focused on what he was saying.

Ichigo smiled to herself before scooping the chopped green onion into her hands and placing it in a bowl off to one side.

"Have you ever had the feeling like some people come into your life when the timing just isn't right?" Ichigo said finally. She glanced up at her mom, who looked back at her with a smile and a nod.

"At first, the timing wasn't right when I met Quiche," Ichigo continued. "It was … complicated. I knew he liked me when Aoyama and I were still together. When Aoyama and I broke up, and I had some time to figure myself out … things between Quiche and I just happened naturally."

It was the truth — though much, much more simple than the full extent of it.

"Oh, so have Quiche and Aoyama met?" her mom asked in surprise.

"Yes," Ichigo admitted with a nervous laugh. "Though, um, I wouldn't call them friends."

"Well, certainly not," her mom replied. "They're still boys, after all. I'm sure Aoyama was quite jealous at first."

"Quiche was a bit of a pain at the beginning, too," Ichigo mumbled. A huge understatement.

She wanted to tell her mom about Quiche dumping red wine on Masaya, but thought better of it. Maybe another time.

She sighed and leaned on the counter. "But … I don't know, Mom. I'm really happy, and I don't think I really expected it."

"Well, life is funny that way, isn't it?" her mom said softly. She tapped her stirring spoon on the side of the skillet and set it off to the side. She looked up at Ichigo with a smile. "It's like you said — sometimes the universe gives us a gift when you least expect it. Even if the timing wasn't right at first, things managed to fall into place anyway, didn't they?"

More like — a stubborn, relentlessly obsessive alien boy never gave up.

Ichigo bit her tongue and nodded. "Right," she said.

Ichigo's mom let out a short sigh and wrung her hands on a kitchen dishcloth. "Want to go grab those two?" she asked. "I'm about wrapped up here."

"Sure," Ichigo said cheerfully. She turned and walked back to the main living area, where she heard what sounded like an argument. She braced herself to separate a fight, dread weighing in the pit of her stomach.

Instead, she saw Quiche pointing to a move on the Go board, arguing with her dad about why he couldn't capture one of his pieces and attempting to explain the rules back to him. Her dad looked thoroughly confused. He eventually told Quiche it was "a bad move, but allowable" before placing another piece.

As soon as Quiche looked up, he flashed Ichigo an amused look, raising his brows and glancing subtly towards her dad. Ichigo could read the look perfectly — can you believe this guy?

Ichigo rolled her eyes and smiled.

In that strange, small moment with her dad still eyeing the Go board, the smells of chili oil wafting through the house, and Quiche smirking up at Ichigo with a stupid, smug look, Ichigo was suddenly overcome with a feeling that everything felt right. Even though it had been so strange to bring Quiche — her once-enemy-turned-alien-boyfriend — into her childhood home, it felt like the last remaining place for him to fit into her life. When confronted with her fussy, difficult parents, he'd simply shrugged, and figured out a way to get her dad to break out the Go board while her mom told Ichigo about how cute he was.

Getting her parents to eventually meet Quiche's mother was another matter entirely. But they could sort that out later.

For now, Ichigo relished the feeling of blooming happiness in her chest as she thought about what was still ahead of them — a whole future, still waiting to be explored. And oh, there was still so much to explore.

Quiche rose from his seat, taking her hand in his.

And Ichigo's fickle heart told her she was home.