One's story isn't set in stone, as many would be lead to believe. A flap of the butterfly's wings akin to a stone that ripples a still lake—little things that forks the path and sends the story down an alternate possibility. Perhaps it is that kind of beauty that one can learn to appreciate their ability to choose and decide for themselves in this big, crazy world.

Narrator: "The concept is similar to videogames with multiple endings. One can debate over which is better over the other, but at the very end, each one is a possibility. Each can take place, and we'd be none the wiser. Just like fanfiction stories; you can never know what will happen."

There was something strange about goodbyes, Gorou realized late in his high school years. Probably the idea that, typically, when used on friends or family, he'd get to see them another day. It felt natural, and especially made sense since he'd be seeing his classmates every day for many years.

Now, though? The realization that this goodbye might be a true parting—a permanent one—now left him feeling… lost. Uncertain.

"Touji…" He tried to find the appropriate words to say, though he ended up starting on an awkward note. "You've got all your things packed?"

"Yeah. All's tugged away in the car already. We're good to go."

"Yeah? Well, that's good to know. The drive to the airport won't be quick, and you wouldn't want to make a U-turn just to get back here," he grinned weakly. "I mean, you're a clumsy buffoon. I'll be hoping you don't make that mistake."

"Pfft, I'm being careful. It won't happen, I promise."

"That's good."

Silence befell the two friends after, both at a lost for words. Gorou, in particular, felt more awkward than he ever had in his life, trying to muster the strength to say a word or two.

Eventually, he let out a sigh. "Man, I'm bad at this… What do two people who are about to say goodbye to each other actually say in this kind of situation?"

"You'd probably be wishing me well on my journey," Touji shrugged back.

"I suppose that makes sense. And seeing that you're off to England, it'll be one hell of a trip. It ain't near, after all, so that's quite something," he hummed. "England… The day's already come, huh? I didn't expect it to come by so quickly."

"That's how it always is. Time just flies, Gorou. You'd think it'd be really slow-going, but soon enough, that one thing just catches up to you real quick. By the time it's there, there's no running from it. Just face it head-on."

"Just like how the kids grew up from the little things we used to carry in our arms?"

Despite the situation that they were in, both fathers couldn't help but chuckle a little. As one, they turned to look back, noticing two children talking animatedly outside of a red Honda CR-V; one a little boy with wild brown hair and another a girl with short chestnut hair.

Irina Shidou. Likely the only girl that he knows his son is genuinely close with. Not to say that he doesn't like the other kids, but having been born in the same year with her and being together for up to six years at this point, they'd become so close it was hard to think of them having been nothing less than the best of friends.

Hell, Gorou felt like the girl was his own daughter. He'd cradled her in his arms when she had been born, representing his friend for him when he'd been out-station for work. Those days, and the six years since, had been the happiest moments in his life.

Today, however, it seemed that saying goodbye has become inevitable.

For one reason or another, it seemed that Touji had to leave for England. Irina would naturally have to go with him, of course, but the thought that he'd have to say goodbye to the family that had been neighbours with his family for six years (plus at least two prior to their children being born) was admittedly a little disorienting.

The older Hyoudou looked up to the sky, squinting his eyes a little. Goodbyes should be accompanied by rainy days, shouldn't they? A painful moment of letting go of loved ones, not certain as to when they'll ever see them again, if at all.

But the sky this morning was pleasant, with not even a single speck of clouds present. It was a baby blue that stretched out wide, the heat a little more bearable than usual. The gentle drafts of wind that came by from time to time carried a faint scent of dew and flowers—everything about this was just so pleasant that he couldn't find any reason to feel depressed.

It felt fitting. After all, why should goodbyes have to be sad? Better to say goodbye with a smile on your face than to cry rivers. Leave on good terms with one final, good memory to remember his friend and his daughter by.

"You know," he began, trying to find some way to lighten the mood—both for himself and his friend. "If you'll be moving to England, it'll mean you'll have to learn English. Aren't you terrible at English?"

"Only in exams, Gorou," he scoffed back. Despite that, some amount of mirth filled him, gratitude present in his gaze. "Who has time trying to memorize tenses and clauses when the only thing important in life is knowing how to speak it and make sure the other person actually understands you?"

"Heh. Trying to make excuses? Well, I guess I'll have to give you that."

"Is that sarcasm I sense? Okay, wise guy, why don't you tell me the proper order of adjectives? Better yet, recite a line from Poison Tree and tell me what it freaking means. Stupid poem had so much imagery, it was dumb."

Before Gorou could make a retort, the sounds of giggling sounded from the car, dragging their attention to their children. He had literally no idea what they were talking about, though it was probably about some videogame that they'd seen once before or something.

Still, just the sight of the wide smiles on their faces was an instant balm on his heart, dispelling any traces of sadness that he had and leaving him feeling happy. They're always so chirpy with one another, and it was always such a delight to see them being so happy with each other.

A shame, then, that Irina would have to move away. But at the very least, if their final moment together was filled with only smiles… then that really is the best thing they could ask for.

Touji and Irina don't stay for long afterwards. After some last-minute packing and moving their stuff into the car, Irina and her parents were off. The sound of the engine revving was followed by the tyres spinning as they drove off. He stood with his son by the door as they watched them leave, Irina sticking her head out the window and waving energetically back at Issei, both shouting at each other as the distance grew.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stood there, watching the red metal body disappear out of his vision. He must have stood in his place for an additional five minutes before the entire situation properly dawned on him. The Shidou's had already left.

That singular moment in his life when that finally clicked in him filled him with a kind of disbelief. The feeling could be described as having built an entire tower with nothing but wood blocks. Stable, and well-established. Then it was akin to taking one piece away, leaving it shaky and incomplete.

Gorou took in a deep breath, mustering whatever willpower he had in him to be strong. He'll miss the Shidou's, but… well, this was important to Touji, he could tell. Even if he didn't understand why, he didn't mind. He'd just be praying for their happiness in the future.

"Well, they're gone," he hummed. He was still rooted in his spot, . "Seems pretty crazy, huh? They've been here for so long, and now they're not. It's weird."

"It is…"

"Hmm? Issei, is there something wro—"

Gorou knew his son very well. Six years together would do that to him, considering that he'd spent almost every waking moment watching over his son and learning of his many quirks and behaviours. That meant he should have been prepared for just about anything.

The look of utter longing on his son's face was not one he had expected.

It was one that took him by so much surprise that he found himself rooted to his spot, staring down at the boy who kept staring off into the distance without so much of a smile on his face. If anything, it was a tight grimace, trying desperately not to cry.

"They really are…" And so was the tone of voice, as he stared off to where the Shidou's had disappeared down the road. "They're gone…"

"Issei? Are you…"

He tried to say something else, but his tongue decided to trip over itself as he merely stared at his son in silence, trying to come to terms that the boy beside him was indeed his son.

Logically, he should have known that this was indeed the same person, but Gorou was experiencing some kind of dissonance because of how Issei had never been sad like this before. Or at all, if he could even remember. But now, all he could do was just stand in his spot like an idiot.

"They're going to England, right?"

"They… Yeah," he nodded, looking back in the direction of the Shidou's. "It's pretty far from here, you know? And the culture is incredibly different there compared to here. Even so, I know that they'll be okay."

"…That's good…"

Relief, and an unmasked sense of forlornness.

"…Well, I'm kind of sleepy. I'll be going in."

The father didn't say anything back. His son walked back inside, his steps slow and heavy and his shoulders a little stiff. His head hung low, all the energy prior to the Shidou's leaving seemingly having dissipated just like that.

And Gorou was uncertain as to what to do.

It was actually raining now.

Gorou stared out at the streets, sitting in his chair and nursing a cup of warm coffee. Heavy drops of water pattered against the roof and the windows of their house, a distant booming of thunder making him jump a little. It was too dark outside, despite it supposedly being four in the evening and having just been sunny just moments ago. It was such a drastic change in the weather that threw him for a loop.

Almost as if the world was reacting to Issei's mood. As if it had maintained a façade of light to mirror his joy, only to then break apart into a solemn rain that truly depicted his inner feelings once the Shidou's were gone.

He tore his gaze away from the window and towards the stairs, frowning. Issei had gone into his bedroom, and that had been an hour ago. Probably to sleep the day away, and he was sure that wouldn't be good for him. He wanted to check up on him and see if there was anything he could do for him—but at the same time, he understood that Issei wanted his distance and personal space to deal with things. He was confused and lost, and perhaps having his own time would help him get through all of this.

A teacup clattered on its dish. Hot tea swirled in its little cup, reflecting his wrinkled expression as he stared back at Miki, who had a sad smile on her face.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. You look like you need it."

"And you don't?"

"Trying to cut on the caffeine a little, though even that's a flimsy thing to say, considering I'd downed two espressos yesterday," she paused, and he couldn't help but snort.

"Issei's really glum about Irina leaving."

"Can you blame him? He really likes her," she clasped her hands over her lap, her smile taking on a fond note. "They've been stuck together at the hip since the day they were born. Every single day, they're always playing with one another, having sleepovers…"

That they did. Gorou chuckled as a memory of one such moment resurfaced. The two children had practically transformed Issei's bedroom—because Irina slept over at their place—into some kind of pillow fort. They'd had the most fun that night, and the morning hadn't ridden their energy as they buzzed over what they were going to do next.

"It really does feel like they're just the best of friends since the very beginning, huh? I almost think like they're siblings."

"You're not wrong there. I still remember you holding both Issei and Irina in your arms. What a moment…"

It certainly had been. The entire day had been utterly chaotic; there was no other way to describe it. Not when he'd groggily woken up at four in the morning because of a phone call. Any annoyance or anger was completely dispelled when Irina's mother hastily asked for him to help send her to the hospital. A couple of hours later and much help from Miki trying to calm the soon-to-be mother down, and then he's standing at the foot of her bed with Issei and a freshly-born Irina cradled in each arm.

Months apart as they may have been, Issei and Irina had only ever gotten so close when they were older. They were the best of friends. And now, six years later, the Shidou's have gone for England.

The man sighed. Issei must be taking this real hard. A lot harder than he'd expected, which shouldn't have been surprising… but it was. When Issei had gotten up that morning, nothing had seemed off. He'd been smiling the entire time, all the way until Irina and her father had driven off. There had been no sign of anything wrong.

How'd even he get fooled by his son? That really meant that Issei had somehow just been good enough to not let his inner feelings leak until the very last. How he managed to hold it in was a little impressive.

'He must've not wanted to worry any of us, especially Irina and her father,' that sounded like something Issei would do. He'd always do his best to smile for everyone, and while he loved that part about his son very much, it was a little disappointing to know that he had failed to notice his son's sadness all this time.

"What should we do..?"

"Isn't it obvious? You need to go talk to him," his head craned towards his wife, who reached a hand towards his and gently grasped it. He returned the hold."

"Should I? Kind of worried that he'd force me out of his room if I try to talk to him."

"Oh, come now. You know Issei would never do that," true. Kid was just too polite to the both of them, as exuberant as he may be. "And besides, he's not meant to have all that 'lone time'. That only applies for older kids, you know. Issei's literally only six. He needs someone to be there for him, rub his back and let him cry it all out. Children don't know how to deal with things like that on their own."

That was simply how they're built. At that sort of age, they're meant to have their parents' guidance. They're always asking questions, need to have answers given to them, have time to slowly figure out things—but never on their own. Not like this.

"And we can't go together?"

"He probably wouldn't want that. At the very least, he just needs one person. Plus, I'm sure you'd want to see how he's doing, right?" A slim finger poked his cheek. "I can see it written on your face. With how much worrying you're doing for the both of us, you'll be spouting grey hairs," with a smile on her face, she nodded. "Go and see him."

"…Yeah. I'll be back."

Resolved, he got up from his seat and made his way to Issei's bedroom, mentally prepared for Issei to scream at him to leave. Even so, this was just part of his duty as his dad. He was ready for anything.

It didn't take long for him to reach his son's door. Standing outside of it felt a little daunting, feeling a bead of sweat on his brow. Kind of reminds him of that one time he had to coax his younger cousin out of his room because he was sulking after his classmate made fun of his hobbies. That they ended up bonding over one such hobby and becoming the best of friends was certainly an unexpected but nice turn of events.

Shaking away his thoughts, he decided to 'man up', as most people would call it. He wasn't here just to stand outside of Issei's room and be a statue. He can do this!

Without thinking, his knuckle rapped against the door. One, two, three soft knocks. "Hey Issei," he called. "Are you up? I wanted to check on how you're doing."

No response. That wasn't too surprising, though he'd expected at least a shooing of sorts. Maybe he was in the bathroom?

He tested the knob. It twisted without any resistance, offering him complete entry into the room. He nodded to himself. "Kiddo, I'm coming in, okay? Just for a bit, I promise."

So saying, he twisted the knob completely and stepped inside his son's room, prepared to stand his ground and prove his place as a father..!

Only to be confronted with the sleeping figure of his son, curled up on his bed as he hugged his pillow and blanket in his sleep.

"Eh..? He was asleep all this time..?"

With the wind ripped out of his sails, Gorou felt more than a little sheepish for having gotten so fired up. Even so, he shook it off and approached his son, calming a little at seeing his son's sleeping face. If anything, he had to hold himself back from grabbing his phone and taking a picture. God damn, his kid was adorable.

But more than anything, he noticed how there wasn't even a single trace of sadness in his expression. He was completely tranquil, breathing so quietly that it was easy to miss it if it weren't for the fact that he was now seated beside his son's body, the close proximity making it easier to hear.

"Children sure are complicated little things… Ironic, considering how you're so much easier to understand than adults."

Whether he said that to himself, his sleeping son or to no one in particular, he doubted it really mattered. The walls stood in place, acting as silent observers to this little moment. Nothing seeks to break the silence.

Without saying a word, he slowly slid himself beside his son, feeling the mattress sink under his weight. Though he was a relatively big man, the bed was a little bigger, so it was able to fit both of them.

With one arm beneath his head and the other settled on Issei's side, the father shut his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

Once upon a time, Gorou was a dumb teenager who had only ever been focused on getting good grades and landing himself a good job to support his family. He and Miki had been dating for two years by then, and they'd been in the talks of properly settling together sometime in the future.

They had faced countless trials and tribulations along the way. Financial issues, friends going overseas, family members passing… Those had felt so long ago. And it had felt like a dream come true when he stood on an aisle in a finely-pressed white morning dress, holding Miki's hands in his as their loved ones, co-workers and many more came to witness their vows.

He remembered just how happy he had been. How happy Miki had been. And just how happier their parents were, although they really didn't have to argue over who was the 'cuter' one. Parents will be parents, he supposed.

Nevertheless, there had been much fun that day, the time spent talking with people and coming to terms that they were a thing now. That he was officially married to the woman he had met in a rundown shop building, clutching her knees to her chest and listening to a song she'd written in the basement of her old family home. That he'd ended up getting to know such a wonderful and brilliant girl afterwards had been unexpected. And so was getting married to her many years later, if he hadn't already mentioned that part.

Gorou felt like a man with a complete life. He had a wonderful wife, a supportive family from both sides, a decent job and a comfortable little home he'd bought using the money he'd accumulated. Everything was perfect.

That was, until they tried for children.

Two miscarriages. Two, with each one hurting her even more than the last. Gorou couldn't have put into words how broken they over the fact that she failed to conceive. The second had sent him into a temporary moment of doubt, wondering if he'd done something wrong in his life to have deserved that. That maybe the world didn't deem them worthy of having children.

But Miki, bless her heart, was strong of heart. She had told him to put their faith in their gods, for whom else could they rely upon in such trying times such as these?

He'd been doing everything he could ever since. Praying for his wife's good health and a successful delivery, making sure that she was as healthy as could be by keeping track of her medications and diet, reading up on everything that could be done. The opportunity wasn't there the first and second times, but he was willing to trust in the third.

So they had tried once more. And when she'd been pregnant for the third time, he recalled visiting the local Shinto shrine every morning without fail. Not even an urgent meeting at work could stop him, for he would walk into the quiet, green forest, accompanied by the natural residents. And every time, he would pace back and forth in front of the shrine, wishing from the bottom of his heart to be granted a child for Miki to carry in her arms. For them to love and watch as he or she grow until they themselves were old.

And then, Issei came into the world, and he broke down crying.

Miki had given him his name. Issei, which meant 'honesty', in regards to Gorou's own honest wishes for them to have a child. Their family was complete, and though Issei wouldn't have siblings of his own, that just meant that they got to give him alone all their love.

How time flies. When he'd been nothing more but a sleepy infant in his arms, to becoming a crawling babe that cried out at every little thing he saw, to becoming a child who smiled and laughed so much that it warmed up their little home without fail every time. So to see his son, for the first time in his life, so downtrodden as he was yesterday was just so…

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a head of brown hair entered the corner of his vision. Issei walked down the stairs, still clad in yesterday's clothes, bedhair wild like a lion's mane. "Mor…" He paused to let out a really long yawn. "Morning…"

"Morning, little trooper. Feeling awake?"

"A little…"

Gorou chuckled back, patting an open seat. Invited by the gesture, the little brunet walked over to the table and took his seat, trying to blink his eyes open before giving up and just leaving them shut. "Hwah… So, what're we having for today?"

That was the cue for his mother to come over to the table, a wide grin on her face. "Well, I know how much you love your pancakes, so I made some for today. A little more than usual, but I think that's fine, right?"

Oooh, smart. Using his favourite food to make him feel better. Gorou sent a nod her way.

"Pancakes, eh?" He hummed, balancing his chin on his hands and smiling. It was a tiny little thing, and it looked so tired, but seeing just that faint trace of joy in his expression made him feel a lot more relaxed. "That… would be nice, yeah. But I want a lot of syrup. Is that okay?"

"I'd usually say 'no', because you and I both know that it'll rot your teeth faster than I can crack an egg. But just for today, because I'm feeling so generous," she emphasized the word, getting both him and Issei to stifle a chuckle. "I'll let you have as much as you want. Just don't drown the whole thing in nothing but syrup, okay? Otherwise, you may as well just forego the pancakes."

"Fiiine. I'll be mindful," he rolled his eyes. "Dad?"

"Kiddo, you know how much I love my jams," he crossed his arms, tilting his head upwards a little. "Nothing will ever beat that."

"No way. I mean, jam is great, I'll give you that. But syrup on pancake? It's the best!"

"Nuh-uh. I love my fruit jams on my pancakes. A strawberry and blueberry combo just kills me, man."

Now his son was looking a little more awake—and offended. "You gotta' be joking! Syrup is super sweet! That tastes way better! And what, you like marmalade? That thing is so bitter!"

"It's not all about just sugary sweetness, buddy. It's a fine taste that you'll learn to love once you're older, I'm sure of it."

"Noooo waaaaay."

The fact that they were able to trade banters as they are right now is such a relief to him that Gorou almost sagged in his seat. His son wasn't fully back on his two feet, he knew, but he was doing his best to be happy for all of their sakes. And this sense of normalcy was just so heart-warming that he didn't want it to be any different.

The little family of three had breakfast together afterwards. Their moment together was filled with light chatter, ranging from daily news to animals and even robots (Issei has always loved things like Gundam and Star Wars). It was talk after talk after talk, and Gorou was more than happy to join the convo as best as he could.

When they were done, Miki had asked Issei what he wanted to do today. He hadn't answered right away, so she had him sit in the living room to watch TV and think about that. Yet another attempt to likely lift his mood after what had transpired.

"It's always important to spend some time together. I'm sure he'd like that. Perhaps a visit to a park or go for some ice-cream?"

"Ooh. That would be nice… Maybe a picnic?"

Miki gave him a look that had him pausing in his place. The kind of look that one gives when they're trying to make sure that the other person wasn't joking at their expense.

"W-What? A picnic isn't a bad idea."

"In this sort of weather?" She gestured to the outside. A little too bright, compared to yesterday, and he was sure those heat waves he was seeing wasn't just a hallucination. "I could put a beef jerky on the ground and it would sizzle straight away! In no way are we going to have a picnic with such hot weather!"

"Alright, alright. Fair enough. Then where could we go?"

"Well, that's up for Issei to decide. In fact, go check up on him."

He nodded back, leaving the kitchen and heading for the living room. Issei was sat on a couch, watching the television attentively. A documentary about coral reefs was playing, displaying vivid colours upon the screen that genuinely amazed him, considering the build of the TV wasn't that good.

"Hey little buddy," he greeted, getting Issei to look back at him. "So, about what your mom asked you. Got any idea?"

"None that I can think of," he admitted with a pout. "Kinda' just want to stay inside. Is that okay?"

"Hmm… Well, that's fine, but are you sure about that?" Earning a confused gaze from his son, he made to elucidate. "See, when I was a teenager, I was just like that. Always wanted to stay in my own room and play my videogames. Your grandmother never liked that, obviously. Said that I'd become nothing but a lazy bum. 'Course, I didn't care at first, but then her sister, my auntie, told me something very interesting—"

"—She said, 'If you always stay inside your room, you'll never see the interesting things that are happening outside of your house in that very moment'," he paused for effect, letting the words sink in. He looked out the window, just in time to catch the wings of a butterfly. "I didn't believe her at first. But… she wasn't wrong."

"She wasn't?"

"Yeah. If I'd decided to stay in my own room all that time, I wouldn't have tried to go to school, no matter how late I was that day. And then, I wouldn't have met your mother in an old shop. I wouldn't have gotten to know her, and then fall in love with her, and then have you," brown eyes soften as the memories play like a film reel. "One little thing that, if I had missed, would have changed things so drastically. Isn't that insane to consider?"

"Wow… I guess it's a good thing that you went out, huh?"

Yeah. If only for the betterment of his health and to stop his mother from nagging at him so much—that he wound up meeting the love of his life was an unexpected bonus, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"…How did you guys meet?" Issei asked, turning his body to face him.

Oh? Looks like the little one was curious now. Despite that, Gorou was admittedly a little embarrassed, as the circumstances had been a lot less romantic than story books would often portray first meetings between people 'fated to be together'. Even so, if it's his son, then…

His mind begins to conjure the images as he tells his story. "Well, you got the gist of the story from what I said earlier. I was running late to get to high school. It was the opening ceremony, no less, and it would have been terrible if I missed it. My mother refused to let me stay inside, no matter how much I begged her to let me stay, so I hastily put on my clothes and ran out."

"Bad start…"

"No kidding. In any case, I was really late and I was rushing like mad. And believe me when I say that I got lost," his laughter came out easy. "Which was unbelievable! I lived in that neighbourhood for almost my entire life. I practically had the entire layout memorized! But yeah, I got lost, took a couple of wrong turns, and then I… I saw her," he paused. Then, with a softer voice, he continued. "I met her in a building. It used to be a candy store, though it shut down because the owner fell into debt. The shop got abandoned. She was sitting in there, apparently ditching the ceremony to just chill there and listen to the songs she wrote."

She'd been quite the wild girl back then, he had to admit. She had that kind of temperament that made her rather difficult to deal with, considering how her emotions could just switch on the fly. And with that gangster-ish attitude? Yeah, she had been quite scary.

But that single morning, spotting her crouched on the dusty floor and listening to her own songs? She looked so at peace, so calm that he almost couldn't have thought that she was anything but an angel.

…Corny is corny, and he'd also gotten shouted at by a flustered Miki, who looked close to throwing the broken-down cash register at him.

"Either way, I got into trouble when I got back home and my parents found out that I skipped out on the ceremony. I mean, I was already too late by then, and that little detour didn't help me none."

The many years after that had been some of the best time of his life, though. Slowly, he'd begun breaking out of his bad habits and form connections with the people around him, Miki included. And somewhere along the way, they'd fallen in love and decided to tie the knot, which lead to now.

"Either way, things had started off poorly at first, but we got along over time," he nudged his son in the shoulder. "Unlike you and Irina. You two sure hit it off from the start!"

"We just really clicked, since we loved playing games and stuff," shrugged his son, though there was no missing the crack of a smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Maybe someday, you'll see her again…"

The father stopped, words caught on his tongue as his body ceased to move. Little hands grasped onto the hem of his shirt, tightly holding on as he stared up at him with a fragile yet hopeful gaze.

"Really? Can I… Will I really see her again..?"

'Oh, Issei…' Humming, he took his son's hands in his, patting them on the back of his palms softly. "Of course you can. I won't tell you that you'll see her again tomorrow, or next year, or the next. But there's always a chance for you to see her someday. Perhaps you'll be teenagers by then, or adults. But you will see Irina again," he said firmly, fully believing it. "Trust me on that one."

"I… Yeah, okay."

"And until then, smile! Make a friend or two. That way, when she comes back, you get to introduce her to your new friends, and then everyone gets to be friends together. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"That would be nice…" He said softly, smiling a little better. That smile turned a little awkward soon after. "Although, I don't know… I'm not exactly the best at making friends."

"Really? I find that a little difficult to believe. You're, like, the friendliest kid I've ever seen."

"I'm only super loud and fun around Irina, Dad," he pouted. "Otherwise, I stink."

He had half a mind to tell his son off for saying he 'stink', though he supposed Issei wasn't wrong there. Outside of Irina and their two families, he literally interacted with no one else. If anything, he was polite and friendly with the elderly, but kids his age?

Every time they went to the park, they always stuck to themselves, never joining the other children. Was it a matter of incompatibility? Bullying? He didn't like either options, but considering that they'd never got into fights or anything else, he doubted that was the case.

Maybe they just really preferred one another's company more than anyone else's. He wasn't sure if there was any other option.

'Well, not like it matters,' after all, if no one came out hurt by the end of things, he supposed that was the most he could ask for.

"I just… don't know if I'd ever be able to do that. Making friends with someone else," he made a face that looked as if he'd sucked on a lemon. "It'd feel weird."

"Well, taking that first step will always feel a little terrifying, if you think about it. But if you give yourself the chance, you'll be able to do it," his eyes left Issei, lips stretched in a gentle smile. "I know you can."

No more words were said as he and his son fell into a comfortable silence. Neither left the other's side for the rest of that morning, and somehow, that alone was more than enough.

Deep down, Gorou understood that Issei was doing his best to be fine, even if he wasn't. The boy was attached to Irina, so to have watched her leave that day… well, when a person becomes close to another, they give a piece of themselves to said person. And when they leave, they leave with that piece of them.

But still, he knew that things would change. He fully believed that. After all, the gods had been merciful and blessed him and Miki with their son. He knew that they would smile upon him someday as well. It was just a matter of time.

If there was one thing Six-eight-two felt in that moment, it was probably something along the lines of 'what the fuck is going on right now?'. Considering all the prior tension and the unexpected resolution, he thought that such confusion was rightfully justified.

After all, what human in their right mind, when surrounded by monsters the likes of which could kill them if they wanted to, would decide to adopt one of said monsters as their own child?

Ah, yes. Miki Hyoudou, the craziest woman of them all. Fool on him for forgetting that.

He perked up when the little brat started cheering all of a sudden, tackling his friend—sister—with a hug and spinning both of them around, showcasing a surprising amount of strength in that little body of his.

"Yaaay! I have a new sisteeer!"

"I-Issei..!"

The dog beside him woofed happily while the parents watched their children with fond admiration. The sappy mood in the air made him want to throw up for some reason, unused to so much innocent joy.

"Ophis Hyoudou! It's such a good name!" He chirped, letting her down after what must have been the tenth twirl. The girl in his arms looked dizzy on her feet. "Right, Mister Lizard?!"

"Don't call me that," that was an answer on reflex at this point, and he doubted the brat would listen. "Also, I don't care. Your mother made her choice. That's all there is to it, I suppose."

"I know! I have a sister now!" His exuberance suddenly stops, replaced with contemplation. "Wait, I have a sister…"

"Yes, you do."

"…But, what about her dragon thingy? Is that okay?"

His question was directed at his parents, whom Six-eight-two could no longer sense any form of distress. "It was the plan from the beginning," Gorou said, sweat-dropping a little. "I mean, Ophis being a dragon was unexpected, but… well, she's been hiding it all this while, and no one knows a thing, right? So I guess it'd be fine."

"And I'll admit that I was scared, but I'm not anymore," Miki's gaze was soft as she gazed upon her new daughter. "You've been wonderful in our lives, Ophis. Having you be a permanent part of our family is all that we could ask for."

The dragoness blushed from the heartfelt words, averting her gaze as she nodded bashfully.

Oh God, this family is so weird. How was he even associated with them?

"Then we should celebrate!" Issei yelled. "Let's celebrate Ophis joining our family! Oh, and Mister Lizard and doggy should join us!"

"This again?" He couldn't help but groan. "You are adamant about me partaking in your family dinner. What could that possibly serve you?"

"It'd be fun! Having more company is always nice!"

"…You are so insufferable. Fiiine!" He drawled out, wincing a little at the happiness the boy radiated. "Damn it all, I can't believe I'm cowed by a child of all things… I will join, but only tonight! Understood?"

"Yes sir! And doggy?"

"Orf!"

"We need to give you a name, girl. What do you think?"

"Woof!"

"Please do not let it be something as idiotic as 'Miss Dog'. My sanity can only tolerate so much."

"Theeen… Lucy?" That was literally his first suggestion, but it earned him a happy bark. "You like it, girl? Then Lucy it is!"

"What? But that's—You know what? Never mind. Ignore any apprehension on my part," he rolled his eyes. "Lucy it is."

"And how about you, Lucy? Want to live with us too?"

"Issei…" Miki sighed. "You know our policy on pets…"

"But, but! She's a smart dog! Plus, she's an alien!" He cried out. "And it wouldn't be just me who'd take care of her! It'd be me and Ophis. Right?"

"Of course," she nodded, sounding oddly determined. "We, would take good care of Lucy."

"But what would she even eat? And how much would she eat? Since she's an alien dog, there's no guarantee that she would eat the same amount as a normal dog would."

"She'd likely be the same as me. We can control our metabolism and adjust our food intake to suit our needs, so you would likely not need to worry too much."

"See? Mister Lizard said it's fine, so it should be okay, right?"

Miki stopped to stare at Issei, then to stare at Lucy. Lucy stared back, panting happily and disarmingly that any thought of her being an alien dog capable of tearing apart a stray devil without any difficulty was wiped clean from her mind.

"Fiiine… We can keep Lucy…" She was so obviously trying to hold herself back from sighing, especially when her son burst into cheer once more. "Goodness, our family is growing rather big in a single night… And you, Six-eight-two?"

"Please, no. I don't have the patience to deal with the sheer chaos of this household. I'd much rather be by my lonesome in my personal home."

"But you'll still be joining us for dinner, right?"

"I can't convince your son to let me leave, so I may as well."

"Well, guess we'd better get started on preparations," chuckled Gorou, hand around his wife's waist. "Kids, you just stay in the living room for a bit, yeah? Or, you know. Go clean up Lucy."

With an affirmative from both children—human and dragon—they dragged Lucy upstairs into a bathroom to go wash her up, which left him to sit in the living room alone, feeling a little awkward and just uncertain how things had progressed this way.

The craziness of escaping a containment facility should have been the end of it, but that he'd be roped into the shenanigans of a family of which an apparent dragon god was now part of easily ruined all preconceptions of normalcy in his mind. He had a feeling that things were only going to get crazier from here on out.

Still, he supposed, it wasn't the worst thing yet. Certainly leaps above the torturous ordeals he'd endured back in the facilities. And he was getting a free meal. What was there to hate?

Seated at the table as big as he was, with the dragon on his right and Lucy on his left, and faced with so many dishes of all kinds of colours—Six-eight-two, once more, felt at peace. The same way he feels now that he's left the facility behind.

But he still hated the kids, though. Just a little.

"…Huh. This is good."

"Right? Mom's a great cook!"

He'll let the brat have that one. Food first, grumbling about annoying children later.

Author's Notes:

Happy New Year, everybody! Back into the writing gig—and gaming. God knows I've been playing a lot of shooting games on my computer with my friends. Now I just need to go back to watching anime, and my routines would be complete.

Oh, but I did get to watch the latest SAO Progressive movie yesterday, and that was great. Literally wanted to last year when it first came out in the cinemas, but hey? Better late than never, and I am satisfied.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before. Canonically, I wasn't sure what age Issei had to have been when Irina moved to England. For this story's sake of ease, we'll make him six (I did say how, in the prologue, 'Rokuha' entered his life when he was six). He would be seventeen by the time the official story starts with him being a second-year, so that's a pretty long time to introduce the others.