I NEVER update this quickly. I'm just excited for Vivi to meet the fam, yanno?

Fair warning: it gets unbearably cheesy near the end, but it's 3:30 in the morning and I'm feeling it. Hope you enjoy, and review if you did!

~Crimrose

Chapter Three

Family

I reach my hand out, pleadingly and desperately, but Dad playfully slaps it away. "You do not need any more water, Vivi," he tells me firmly, but the intimidating effect is lost with that amused grin on his face.

"I can't help it," I hiss, tugging my collar away from my neck to double-check that I'm not sweating so much that I'm stinking up the surrounding area – I can't help but notice that quite a few other patrons surrounding us had left soon after we sat down at the table. "My throat just keeps getting dry. Is this a sign of nervosity?"

His smile twitches even wider, making the sharp outline of his freshly shaven jaw seem like it could cut glass. "That isn't a word, kiddo."

"Now I'm unable to even articulate sentences. This is a bad sign." I brace my hands on the table in a crouching position and lean forward conspiratorially. "I'm losing my mind."

"You think you can talk to a squirrel, Vivi."

I rear back so harshly I rock in my chair and have a quick scare that I may fall backwards. "Below the belt, Dad. You're not really helping right now."

He actually rolls his eyes at that. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, that's all. No matter how awkward you may be, I'm nearly positive Miwa-san will love you. Actually, I'm nearly positive she'd love you even if you had an extra head or maybe even a beak."

I bear my teeth at him. "You're exaggerating." I try to shove another piece of bread in my mouth, but he slaps that away, too. My eyes glisten as I cradle the offending hand to my chest, and even add a lip quiver as I cry, "Dad."

He shrugs, resting his chin into the palm of his hand propped up by his arm resting on the table. "You don't want to stuff yourself before we actually order dinner. I can foresee many a pee break already."

"I'm not stuffing myself," I grumble, a complete lie and he knows it. I hadn't stopped eating or asking for water refills since the moment we sat down. It isn't just the fact that today's the day I'm meeting Miwa-san for the first time; they just had to choose one of the fanciest restaurants in town for the venue, and I'm not good with classy places at all where they serve the food with cloth napkins and warm lemon water to dip your hands into to clean them.

Don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, and I'm very grateful to Dad for treating me today. How could I not be, in a place like this? Each table is made of the finest polished wood with a slight reddish hue, the chairs upholstered with plush fabric, floors painstakingly covered with luxurious crimson carpeting that must've made cleaning at the end of the night a bitch. Glittering crystal chandeliers with three tiers of candles hung at even intervals around the building, one of them directly above us in the back corner of the establishment, very private and with an intense ambiance. It smells not only of amazingly seasoned foods and expensive wine wafting from my father's glass, but also of some fragrant oil burning on certain receptacles plugged into the walls. The lull of muted conversations and scraping of silverware (like literal silver) filled the place with a much needed white noise that helps me to settle a little, but I'm still bouncing in my seat.

Even in my new dress and with my hair in a bun slightly fancier than usual, with plaits crowned over the top of my head and twirling into the mass of hair tied at the base of my neck, I still don't feel remotely classy enough. All I can think of is how, instead of the soothing violin streaming out from the speakers, I'd rather be listening to Santeria, which is basically my summer anthem. If I can't appreciate the music here, I don't deserve to be here. The thought makes me polish off the rest of the iced water I have in front of me, which Dad observes with a heavy sigh. The seats are too comfortable and plush; every time I bounce I feel like I go another foot in the air.

"Am I sweating too much?" I ask, hastily scraping some stray curls away from my face.

"You look just wonderful," he assures me, placing a hand over my mind – less of an attempt at comfort and more to make me stop jumping around like a butterfly bean. "Really. Settle."

To help calm myself down, I start reciting my favourite scene from Hamlet. "'How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!' Hamlet proceeds to stab through the arras and kill Polonius." I look at Dad expectantly, my eyes blinking rapidly like a startled mouse.

He rolls his eyes but finishes: "'Oh, I am slain.' Polonius dies." I cough and snort at the same time, confusing me to the extent that I start laughing at myself, and my attempt at easing up a bit works just a little. Dad's smile softens, and he removes his hand from mine after a final reassuring pat. While he's distracted I start reaching for another slice of bread, ever the glutton, until I hear some muffled footsteps rushing towards our table, sounding light as an experienced woman in heels.

I snatch my hand from the basket, place it firmly in my lap, and sit up with a rod-straight back. Sweat starts to bead down my back, and I try desperately to hold onto my consciousness. I've always been sensitive to the heat, and being under the heat of the chandelier while being so nervous I felt like I was on fire is not doing me any favours. Just as I start screaming internally, a woman made in the image of the angels rounds the corner of the bar to start approaching us, a suit jacket thrown over her arm and her pressed white blouse undone a bit at the top buttons.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" She says with a graceful, embarrassed smile, a stretch of her plump red lips that fills me with awe. I'm watching her in stunned silence; she's so graceful, each of her movements akin to a delicate dance. Her golden hair is cropped short, falling in a graceful pixie cut just under her ears, her eyes glittering like sapphires in the golden light of the chandeliers. Her makeup is immaculate, putting any efforts I make with mine to shame, her outfit professional and comfortable, with a playful red and black gingham pencil skirt, the blazer over her arm matching. Her jewelry is in shades of copper, filling me with an instant admiration for her style, then I remember that she's a fashion designer; of course she's dressed to the nines. As she comes closer to our table I get a waft of some very light and refreshing perfume, and I'm shocked at how young she looks, her face untainted by any wrinkles save for the crow's feet that crack into existence when she and my father lock eyes. She places a chaste kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark with her lipstick that she giggles at and rubs away.

Suffice to say, I'm in complete shock. She's nothing like what I expected. Then again, I didn't really expect a whole lot, since Dad did his best to keep me in the dark so I'd be surprised when I met her. Well, mission accomplished. She has to be the most adorable fifty-something year-old I've ever seen. She looks positively giddy to see us, and after she exchanges a greeting with my father, her full attention swings to me. I'm almost uncomfortable under her unrelenting stare, but it isn't filled with judgement or anything of the sort; it's more like she's just looking at me as Rintaro Hinata's daughter, and wants to see beyond that.

"You must be Vivi," she began, holding her hand out to me for a shake. I discreetly wipe mine on the skirt of my dress before holding it out to her. "A pleasure to meet you. Rin-kun's told me so much about you."

Rin-kun? I'm almost tempted to laugh, and turn to Dad with cheeks puffed out a little, a sign I'm about to crack, and he shoots me a warning look. The nickname is so cute and youthful, just like her, and everything about her, from her movements to the softness in her eyes, radiates maturity and femininity – something I desperately lack. I turn to her to notice that she's staring me down again, still holding my hand, and I eagerly want to retract it since I know I'm getting clammy again.

I have to swallow before speaking, and my voice still comes out a bit rough. "Likewise. I'm so glad to finally meet you." When she just keeps staring, enough that I start to get even more uncomfortable, I have to say something. "Um… Miwa-san?"

Now it's Dad's turn to almost laugh when Miwa-san suddenly grabs my other hand and holds both of them in a tight grip, her cheeks glowing a lovely shade of pink in joy as she smiles brilliantly and says, "As I thought, girls are just the best! I've always wanted a little girl," she tells me, cradling my hands as if they're something precious. "You're just about the cutest thing I've ever seen, Vivi-chan."

Oh wow. This is not what I'd been expecting, not in the slightest. I have to swallow again before responding, my face absolutely red as the lights on a police cruiser. "Thank you very much," I say, looking up at her shyly. "You're, ah, quite beautiful yourself." Jesus that's awkward. I don't even know how to talk properly when faced with compliments.

She shocks me yet again by whipping around to face my father, keeping our hands clasped together, and leveling him with a glare. "How can you even stand being around a daughter this cute all the time? I'm so jealous!" She turns to me again, her moods shifting even quicker than a cat's, and she's all gorgeous smiles. "Well, if you're going to be joining our family, I suppose I won't have to be jealous for much longer!"

Well then. She's certainly eager about the idea of a joint family. I thought she would have had some reservations about it, herself, but this is quite obviously not the case. I've never seen a person so eager to become a family before, but her eyes are glittering as if they hold small galaxies within their crystalline depths in utter anticipation and adoration. Even in only knowing her for a few minutes, I can tell that when this woman loves, she loves with all her heart. Her kids must have grown up absolutely showered with her affection. Honestly, I feel a little envious.

"You'd think after thirteen boys, I'd finally have myself a girl, but nope! I'm glad that you're going to be my daughter, though, make no mistake about that!" She pats my hands before finally releasing them, but I'm unable to place them in my lap again for a moment, since I'm sitting in a frozen solid state.

I must have heard her wrong. She probably said three boys, since thirteen is just… over the top. I cock my head to the side curiously, and notice that Dad is currently unable to meet my eyes – be it from purposely avoiding me or because he's staring at Miwa-san with goo-goo eyes, who's to say. "Sorry, um… you said three boys?"

She shakes her head quickly, somehow even managing to make that look well put-together. "Nope, thirteen, sweetie! Did Rin-kun not tell you?"

"No, Rin-kun wanted to keep it a surprise," I grit out, my eyes wide and unblinking as my rigid smile shows all teeth. My mind is a bit – just a bit – blown. Thirteen kids. Thirteen, and yet she doesn't look a day over twenty-five? She must have the genes of the gods, for Chrissake. My mind immediately begins questioning all the technicalities of it, such as if her sons – all sons! - come from the same father, how far apart in age they are… When Dad and Miwa-san get married, I'm going to have thirteen stepbrothers. The number just seems completely astronomical to me, and I'm desperately trying to keep my jaw from falling to the floor just thinking about it.

"Well, I bet that it is a pretty darn good surprise!" She laughs, and it's a nice one, coming straight from her diaphragm as if she hasn't the slightest care in the world how goofy it may sound. "Yes, my eldest is thirty-one, and my youngest is ten."

I can't hold it back anymore. "Holy shit."

"Language, Vivi," Dad scolds me lightheartedly, and I hold up a hand as if making a boy scout salute to not do it again.

"Oh, please, let the girl say whatever she wants. This must have come as a big shock to her, especially since you didn't say anything, you devil." Dad actually looks a bit sheepish, and strokes his chin thoughtfully in an effort to hide his smile. Miwa-san has a hand over mine again, her eyes gleaming with sincerity as she says, "I know it's a big shock to you, and call me biased as their mother, but they're all very nice boys, never caused trouble a day in their lives. I know you'll just love them when you meet."

"I'm sure I will," I respond with an easy laugh, though on the inside I'm still reeling, still expecting her to say that it's all just a joke and she actually had said three sons. But no such revelation ever comes, not even after we finish off our food, which is deeply rich and leaves my stomach completely satisfied. Dad doesn't seem the least bit surprised that even after all that bread and water, I had completely finished my side of penne with my chicken parmesan. Miwa-san, however, has her eyes bugging out of her head.

"For someone so tiny, you can sure fit a lot in your stomach!" She exclaims, almost sounding like she's delighted. One may normally find that offensive, but I appreciate her honesty, and find myself laughing with her again, as we had done when she'd told me stories of her kids and of Dad during our meal.

"I get that a lot," I respond warmly, having already attained a fondness for the woman. She isn't afraid to say what's on her mind, and is quite expressive despite her professional appearance. She uses her hands a lot when she's explaining things, no doubt a habit she'd picked up as a designer, and attaches strange lilts to her voice when she's impersonating someone. It's like she's only a few years older than me instead of decades, and we'd even played hangman while we were waiting for our food to arrive. She'd picked something that took me a lot of guesses to get, "zigzagging", using a word with letters people often guess last. She has a cleverness about her, the telltale tenderness of a loving mother, and whenever she spoke of her previous husband she used the term "late", meaning that she's a widow. Someone so cheerful and full of life had thirteen children, and had lost the man she'd loved, and yet she's willing to start all over again, merrily invite two people into her ginormous family.

My heart aches for Miwa-san, something that doesn't happen too easily to me. I'm not the type to form judgement within moments of knowing people, but something about her just screams that she's inherently good. She's the perfect other half for Dad, who is easygoing and wonderful himself, and my heart races with the image that runs through my brain, of them spending years and years together, just being happy in completing each other. As I watch them joke with each other, laughing as if they're not only engaged, but best friends, I'm filled with a strange sense of euphoria. She's the one for him. Even if this is all moving so quickly that it's giving me whiplash, it's been a while in the making for them, both of them having nursed wounded hearts and finding solace in each other. The cheesiness of it all pisses me off a little, just a little, because they're basically soulmates. Ugh, that sounds awful, even in my head.

"Was the food good, Vivi-chan?" Miwa-san asks me, leaning into her crossed arms with a wide grin on her face.

"Yes, it was amazing," I say in response, tucking stray hairs behind my ear again. "I could eat chicken like that for every day for the rest of my life and not get tired of it." I'd meant to exaggerate as an attempt at humor, but she takes me seriously, judging by the awed look on her face.

"Now you're making me wish I'd got it!" She laughs, and then gets a mischievous glint in her eyes, making them sparkle like polished jewels. "Got room for dessert?"

I brace my hands on either end of the table and lean towards her, trying to match her hyperactive pace. "You know it."

"Great!" She cheers, clapping her hands together eagerly. "What would you like, Rin-kun?"

"Whatever's fine with you girls," Dad says with his usual relaxed smile, his arm slung around the back of Miwa-san's chair. I can't help but smile when I notice that.

Just as I'm about to fill in with a suggestion, Miwa-san says, "I think I could go for the little brownie bits down here," as she points to them on the menu. Dad gets an eager look in his eyes, which I'd known would happen, since brownies are one of his favourite desserts. That's what I was about to say, and the fact that she'd said it first makes my smile grow into a grin befitting the Joker.

"Sounds good to me," I say, and to my utter astonishment, my stomach growls at the thought of the tasty treat hitting my taste buds. One day all of this excessive eating is going to catch up to me.

After we call the waiter and order the dessert, we wait around for just a few more minutes and Miwa-san asks me about how I'm doing in school. She boasts that Dad would not stop telling her about my good grades and constant presence on the honor role, which makes me get a little bashful. The only reason I work so hard in school is for him to have one less thing to worry about, but it isn't like I'm going to say that, so instead I just avoid all the nitty-gritty details and tell her about what we're doing in my classes right now with summer vacation looming in the next month. When the brownies arrive and I pop the chocolately goodness in my mouth slathered with homemade whipped cream and chocolate sauce, I figure it to be one of the best first meetings I've ever had with someone.

Suddenly Miwa-san is strangely serious after she daps the chocolate sauce away from the corners of her mouth with her napkin, staring deeply at me as I struggle to swallow down the giant piece I'd just taken, shocked by her sudden change in mood. "Vivi-chan, I have something I want to ask you. Your father wanted me to wait a bit longer before I did, so at least we could get to know each other better, but I already adore you, you see. I feel like I've known you for much longer than just a couple of hours from how often Rin-kun talks about you." She moves, as if unconsciously, to rub Dad's arm tenderly just from mentioning him, and I'm bordering on desperate to know what she has to say.

"You can ask me anything," I murmur, not bothering to wipe the chocolate sauce away. If she claims to love me, then she must, chocolate covering my mouth like a rare form of rabies and all.

"I want to know what you think of me," she says cautiously, and I nearly sag to the ground in relief. But then the questions get harder. "What you think of us getting married. I know this seems sudden to you, but I believe that this is – dare I say – meant to be. I want us to be a family." Even though I feel like I'd just gotten cheese shoved in my face, she then proceeds to shove it down my throat when she lays her warm hand over mine again, slightly calloused from working with pencils and fabrics all day. "I want you to join my family, as I wish for my sons and I to join yours. So, please… will you support us getting formally wed?"

It's undeniable that I feel a bit pressured, put on the spot by her question with the both of them looking at me so pleadingly, so clearly in love with each other. Her gaze is completely serious, leaving no room for error, and while Dad clearly doesn't want to make me feel uncomfortable, I know he can't help but look at me the same way. It's like they're two teenagers asking for their parents' blessing, and the fact that my opinion means so much to the two of them is just even more endearing. Maybe it's because the sugar's sweetened me up, or because of how pressured I feel to give an answer, but I find words spewing ungracefully from my mouth before I even have time to think about it.

"Of course," I say with a blinding smile that makes Dad's grin practically split the corners of his mouth. "Thank you for considering me in the first place. Anyone of Dad's choosing is fine with me, but I'm glad it's you, Miwa-san." As long as the two of you are happy. I close my eyes briefly to collect myself, to collect the violent maelstrom of emotions currently churning within my stomach and threatening to bring my dinner back up. There's panic in there, mostly, nervousness as well, but I had to trust Dad on this, even if I don't know Miwa-san that well. This is what he wants.

Miwa-san's eyes start to glisten, and I worry over her a tear slips out from the corner of her right one without managing to draw her mascara down with it. "I'm so glad," she whispers, her voice rough. "It's just been difficult, all this time, and after I met Rin-kun…" She looks up at him, and suddenly I'm not even in the room anymore. Nobody is, to get between them and the feelings they so clearly share. "I knew there was still hope for me. For us. I'm so happy I met your father, Vivi-chan."

"And I'm glad he met you," I whisper in return as we stand and join in a brief embrace surprised to discover I mean it. Even if everything is changing, and Dad's new cologne mingles in with her slightly musky perfume, it's alright, because two lost people who have both become fundamentally important to me finally found their missing piece.

Even though it had never even crossed my mind that I'd find myself doing so, a couple weeks later I'm packing up my remaining essentials into a carry-on to head over to the Asahina family home.

This is the house where I'd grown up in, and it isn't like we're completely abandoning it; Dad's not going to sell it right away. But I couldn't help the feeling of my heart tearing slightly as I packed away each of my belongings, from my video games to disassembling my bed and sending it away with the movers. The African masks had disappeared from the walls, leaving them blank and expressionless, the smell of home cooking faded from the kitchen. Juli is not impressed, not in the slightest; from the moment he heard that I'm gaining thirteen new stepbrothers, he had not even attempted to take a chill pill, and has all but been on a rampage. He calls them 'wolves', objects to me moving there every chance he can, my explanations as to why falling on deaf ears.

Dad and Miwa-san's marriage is completely settled, the ceremony taking place this coming November. They want to have time to themselves, though they hadn't said that right to my face, and suggested that I move in with Miwa-san's sons so that I won't be completely by myself for months as they continue travelling for work. I still have yet to meet any of them, so I'm wading into completely uncharted waters here. Basically I'm moving into a house filled with strangers, utterly oblivious about what to expect. Miwa-san raves about them often, how nice they are, how responsible and caring they are, but it does little to ease my worries. I still don't know them, and I'm sleeping there tonight. Chills run down my spine, chills that hadn't stopped since the day I'd agreed to their union. I don't regret that decision, especially not with each time I see them together, smiling in utter bliss.

I heave a sigh, sitting cross-legged on my floor to pack a few straggling knick-knacks and clothes into my bag, and pause for a moment to stare at the completely empty room around me. The clothes in the closet are gone, as is my desk, entertainment unit, my bed. All of the little colours that lit up the white walls and lightwood floors are gone, leaving it a completely blank canvas for someone else to fill someday. I purse my lips, drum my fingers on the floor, my long nails ticking on them like Juli's nails as he approaches me.

"Doing alright, kiddo?" He asks me in that lilting voice of his, somewhat distorted by his buck teeth. I smile down at him as he crawls into the space in the middle of my legs to look up at me in concern.

"Just a bit… I dunno, wistful?" I settle for, twisting a hair around my finger. I haven't gotten around to putting it up today, and would definitely have to before I step into the unforgiving heat outside. The bun had been annoying me when I'd gotten home from school after the half-day, and I'd tugged it out as I resumed packing. The silvery waves brush the floor as I lean back onto my arms to stare at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stars I'd stuck up there when I was younger and had pretended they could talk to me so I didn't feel as lonely when I slept. "This is the only home I've never known. Even if I'm moving in with… family, it's hard to leave it."

"I completely agree," he says, feigning innocence by pressing a paw to his chest with his mouth hanging open, revealing his teeth filed down by nuts and chewing on wood. "Which is why you shouldn't do it. This can't end well, I just know it." He jabs a claw into the meat of my thigh, making me giggle. "I'm psychic, Chii, I swear. You should not be moving in with those boys."

"We don't even know them," I tell him after giving him a little push on the head with my finger. "Dad used to always say that strangers are just the friends we haven't met yet, before the world became so untrustworthy. It's a new adventure that we should be willing to give a chance, don't you think?" He can see right through the smile I plant on my face, into the worries I cram into the corners of my heart for no one to see.

"But are you happy?" He asks me, eyes staring straight through me in that strange animal way of theirs.

"Sure I am," I grunt as I move into a standing position and scoop the bag onto my shoulder by its strap. "We're getting a new family, Juli. I'll never have to be alone in a house again." It's a joke, but it makes his tail puff right out in panic, and I pull a walnut from my purse to have him calm down. "Family." My smile this time is genuine, remaining even as I drag my feet through the near-empty living room, towards the entryway to leave this place behind. "It's got a nice ring to it. I'm nervous, but it's like an excited nervous, you know?"

He heaves a strangely human sigh. "Sometimes I think you're just too good for Rintarou. Well, rest assured that I am not leaving your side the whole time we're there. I will protect you with all my being!" He proclaims, standing on my shoulder on his hand legs and pumping himself in the chest.

I laugh cheerily as I whip my hair into a quick bun, letting the remaining cool air of the vacant house breeze across my neck and down the collar of my uniform. I shiver, and wonder if it's from the temperature or something else. ''Are you ready, bucky?"

"Don't call me that ever again," he grumbles, settling into a more comfortable position – meaning half-on and half-off my shoulder. "You know I'm sensitive about my teeth."

"Of course." I'm muttering to myself as I pull the door open after a moment's hesitation, the warm end-of-May air hitting me like a brick wall. I turn to close and lock the door behind me, my heart thudding painfully with the sound of the key turning in the lock. My hands are sweating, and I distract myself by saying, "How could I forget about the squirrel's issue with his completely natural buck teeth?"

"Shut it, Chii, and just focus on not getting lost," he muttered after a swift shop to my neck, and I rummage in my carry-on for the map I'd pulled up on the trusty ol' search engine to help find my way there. It was about a twenty to thirty minute walk, one undoubtedly full of second-guessing and minor heart attacks.

I brush all that aside, linger in the entryway of the house for a bit longer as I pull my phone out of my bag, the screen hot from remaining under piles of clothes in the scorching sun. I slide the red headphones on over my head, covering my ears and making them overheat slightly. It doesn't bother me that much, not nearly as much as what I'm about to do. After inhaling a slow, shaky breath, I scroll down on my playlist until I hit The Good Life and crank it as high as it can go, then I take the first step towards my destination – my new home.

Didn't I tell you? So cheesy.

Oooo brothers in the next chapter, I- I need a minute.

In case you're wondering, the songs mentioned are Santeria by Sublime and The Good Life by Weezer- things I felt like mentioning because they're like at the top of my summer playlist.

Review, my lovelies, and stay tuned for the next chapter.