Your new mattress lay on the floor of your loft-room. You hadn't bothered getting a frame yet, since you wanted a good one rather than flimsy metal bits. Beside it sat a wooden chest, into which you'd put most of your clothes until you found a dresser you liked.

Atop the chest sat your phone, open and displaying a very frustrating message. Hey sweetie, your father and I want to come visit and see your new place. Your job must be treating you well to already afford one, even with a roommate. We'll be staying in the hotel near your neighborhood for the night. I'm not sure why you want to stay in such a magic infested place, but I suppose it's your choice. You're old enough to make your own decisions. See you tomorrow! - Love Mom-

You had tried to explain the situation to Fuku and Grillby, who would be present for their visit. You had kept it as simple as you possibly could. Grillby wore a disapproving expression, but it wasn't directed at you.

Despite the summer heat, you'd dragged on a long-sleeved shirt. There was no explaining away being shot, and you really didn't want to deal with it. You matched it with short-shorts and knee-high socks capable of easily hiding your mage-mark even if they bunched a bit.

You were certain you would broil before the day was done if you left it like this.

Heading downstairs, you grabbed a marker from the cup on the counter and rolled up your sleeve past your elbow. You still didn't have the energy to sequence without drawing the markings out first.

Fuku and Grillby watched with interest. They knew, without seeing it in practice, that sequencing was a form of unspecialized magic that could produce any effect as long as the user did it right. It also tended to backlash dangerously if they didn't.

As you finished drawing the symbols on your arm, Fuku piped up. "You must be really confident, to draw those where you can barely reach." There was a touch of worry in her voice.

You smiled reassuringly at her. "I didn't spend a decade and a half in the Academy with nothing to show for it." The symbols on your arm turned blue as you eased your magic into them, bringing your body temperature back down to a comfortable level.

A knock at the front door made you jerk your sleeve back into place, covering the active magical glow. "Is that fine?" Grilly inquired as you headed for the door.

"They won't notice." You responded, giving yourself a final check before opening the door. Your parents weren't quite as tall as you remembered, but perhaps that had less to do with their actual height and more to do with your perception of them. "Welcome to Ebott, Mother. Father." You stepped aside to let them in.

Your parents' reactions to your roommate and boss were about as you expected, and had forewarned them about. They scrunched their faces as your friend and boss came into view, but made no outward effort to be hostile or derogatory.

"This is my roommate, and best friend, Fuku." You introduced, moving to stand between the two separate parties. "And this is Grillby, my boss and Fuku's d- father." Your father would throw a hissy fit if you were willing to say the word 'dad' but still wouldn't call him it. You repeated the introduction process for Fuku and Grillby.

"It's a pleasure." Grillby stated professionally.

"Likewise." You father returned, sizing up the two elementals. "_, sweetie, how about a tour?" You flinched at the nickname, suddenly glad that neither of your parents were actually looking at you.

You hated when your parents called you that. Memories of much worse times flashed through your mind quickly before you could stop them. They don't remember. You scolded yourself, recovering as quickly as you could as they turned to you.

"Of course. We don't have much furniture yet, so if you need to sit or anything you can use the couch in here. Down the hall this way are Fuku's and the guest's bedrooms and the bathroom…" You led them out of the front room, hoping against hope that the tension would dissolve.

It didn't.

Your father took the time to look at the plumbing and electrical work, something you hadn't bothered with, while your mother inspected paint jobs and tile placements. Was this how normal people found houses?

Noon came quickly, and with it an escape from your parents' constant attention as you slipped into the kitchen to cook some food. You weren't sure what to make, as you'd just grabbed some hamburger out of the freezer that morning.

A familiar grin flashed through your head, relaxing you a little as you settled on tacos. It was a simple enough meal to make. Fuku joined you shortly after you started, dicing some onions to cook in with the meat. "We don't really have seasonings yet, but this should flavor it nicely." She commented, obviously avoiding something that was on her mind.

"Too bad we don't have anything for sauce. You okay?" You questioned as your three houseguests filtered in to the dining room to sit at your fold-up table. Fuku didn't answer you. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You mother interrupted whatever it was she was going to say, a fact that made you more than a little irritated. "What's for lunch, Sweetie?" You still flinched. You're certain Grillby notices this time, as he immediately fixes his gaze on you.

"Tacos, Mother. We're making tacos." You replied, turning to slice the tomatoes. You decided to leave a few slices as a garnish. They were nice to eat by themselves, after all.

"No side dish?" You father chided, clearly displeased with your choice. You tensed to stop yourself from reacting to that tone. Once upon a time, you would have run for the closet if you heard either of your parents speak like that. They don't remember! You growled at yourself again, moving to shred the lettuce.

"I didn't think of it." You stated from between clenched teeth. Not reacting to your parents was hard. "What would you like?"

"It's fine, Sweetie." Your mother responded, lightly slapping your father on the arm in scolding. "How about after lunch, we go get some more furniture for you? We haven't had the chance to spoil you in years."

Getting them out of the house sounded like a great idea. You and Fuku plated two tacos per person, with an extra tomato slice for looks, and set them on the table to eat. You headed back to grab some glasses of water for t you and your parents, turning to find your father salting your tomato for you.

You set the glasses down and sat, gazing at your ruined tomato solemnly. You liked eating tomato slices…just not with salt. Wordlessly, a fiery hand swiped it from your plate, leaving an unsoiled one in its place. Grillby sent you a smirk when you gazed at him incredulously, salted tomato gone. Presumably being magically digested.

"What was that?" You father growled, offended.

"_ dislikes salt on tomatoes." The elemental answered simply. You hadn't known he even remembered that. You nodded dumbly in confirmation when he turned to you.

You father shot a confounded look at his wife, who looked just as lost. The rest of lunch was almost painfully silent.

Your tacos weren't as good as Sans's.

Going shopping was all well and good, but what did you even want? A dining table and chairs sprung to mind, but any good one would be hundreds of dollars. Maybe a small television so you could hook up the DVD player, but that had the same problem. You couldn't find one for less than a hundred, and that was too small.

Entertainment center? You could probably find a sturdy one for about eighty bucks. Bookshelf? Same thing. What would go well with your burgundy furniture? Apple-wood maybe?

You wandered over to check the available wood colors of the bookshelves and entertainment centers. Your mother wandered with you. It wasn't hard for her to deduce what you were looking at, as you had to keep jumping between the two aisles to see if any of them matched.

You had almost settled on one when your mother finally spoke up. "Are you sure about this? Living with monsters…We have room back home you know, right?"

Your hand twitched on the wood. "Please stop, Mother." It took every ounce of willpower you contained to keep the fury out of your voice. "They're amazing, and they've helped me more than you could ever know. Probably more than I could ever know."

"Sweetie, you don't owe anyone-."

"That has nothing to do with it, but yes. I do owe them. It's a debt I can never repay, not that they'll ever let me." You stared at the knot in the grain in front of you to keep you from turning to look at her. "But I moved in with Fuku because she's my best friend. Just like Eve did when she moved out. It's not different just because she isn't human."

You could feel your magic starting to rise up in response to your emotional state. Wrestling it back, you found your neutral self and gripped her as hard as you metaphorically could. "Very well." She quipped in response.

Your father chose the ensuing silence as the perfect time to come strolling back to the two of you, with a cheerful, "Did she pick one yet?"

You finally turned, noting the agitated expression on your mother's face, as well as the 42" screen television your father was carrying. It occurred to you then that you had been the only one looking at price tags.

Grillby was sitting at your fold up table inspecting paperwork when something odd caught his eye. He sent a questioning glance to his daughter, asking, "Why is everything in only your name? I thought _ paid for it?"

His already irate daughter flared crimson as she paused in her task. "You know how mages aren't considered citizens Dad. They don't have property rights. If we were going to put it in her name, we would have to go through the government paperwork at the Academy."

Fuku went back to hanging curtains angrily as Grillby dropped his head into his hands. You. How in the seven hells were you so happy all the time? Every situation surrounding you seemed so negative. You didn't even own your own house, that you had paid for in full.

Even your parents. Your anxiety and panic had come through loud and clear all morning. He almost managed to make out some of your fearful memories, but you had shoved them away so hard, your Soul had actually quieted both times it had happened. You'd never done that before.

You hadn't made it out to be such a big deal in your explanation, but there was definite bad history there. Apparently, a history that your parents had also forgotten, as you so frequently reminded yourself. What terrors were hiding in your past?

If that was your experience with parental figures, he was honored you'd subconsciously chosen him as a surrogate. It would be something you would be extremely hesitant to do, and certainly only with a person you truly trusted. You must hold him in especially high regard. Grillby just hoped he deserved it.

Even if you hadn't quite admitted it aloud yet.