One uneventful January weekend, Kuri lay on her bed aimlessly scrolling through her camera roll from the year she got her phone to the present day. She browsed thousands of pictures, clearing some space by deleting the less sentimental ones like outdated memes until she finally reached the photos taken within the past year.

Tucked between the many friends, selfies, and silly things she'd seen, Kuri noticed stray photos of Katsuki cropping up more often as she swiped ahead. It was funny that she'd managed to snag those pictures; he rarely let her take any of him before they started dating.

Eventually, Kuri reached the point when everything changed, and she had myriad opportunities to take goofy pictures of him: the most recent school festival. But not because they started dating after the play—Kuri was referring to the rehearsals. Photos of him practicing scenes she wasn't in, helping build parts of the set, and selfies of them both in costume were among her favorites.

Kuri swiped past the copious pictures from the crazy after-party on the day of the festival, including those her friends had shared until she finally reached the handful of photos she took on her first date. She smiled fondly at the images of Katsuki holding up the rock she said was like him; Katsuki gazing at the sea; Katsuki turning to look at her photographing him, grinning at her antics.

Kuri wondered if she should post any of the pictures on social media. Through some very long texts, she'd told her friends back home the story of how they got together, but she hadn't shown them the pictures from their date. Even though it was already a month ago…

Wait a minute…!

Kuri sat up with a start, her hand loudly slapping against her mattress as she stared wide-eyed at Katsuki's smiling face gracing her phone screen. She hastily exited her camera roll and pulled up her family's group chat. She rapidly scrolled up until she reached the day that he'd asked her out and scanned each message after that for any mention of Katsuki, an embarrassing realization dawning upon her.

I haven't told them that I got a boyfriend!

Kuri flopped back onto her bed, groaning as her head hit the pillow. She opened up her camera roll again and swiped past the last picture of Katsuki to a selfie of them making a heart together using their hands. Katsuki had said it looked too cheesy, but Kuri knew he liked it because he asked her to share it with him.

Her parents would want to know. And Kuri kinda wanted to brag about Katsuki again. The unfortunate reality was that telling her parents she was dating someone would be a big hassle; her mom would undoubtedly make a fuss about it, whether or not she approved of Katsuki. Kuri didn't want to go through all that nonsense just to keep them up to date.

Well, she could probably still tell Mayu. He had met Katsuki before and knew that she liked him. Plus, he never spilled anything—as long as Kuri financially compensated him for his secrecy.

She returned to her messages and pulled up her texts with Mayu (it'd be more accurate to say her texts to Mayu since he rarely replied). She selected the picture of her and Katsuki on their date and typed a short message below it.

"Look! I'm dating him now! I've won in life."

She gave her text a once over, added two fire emojis to the end, then sent it off without another thought. She placed her phone down on her bed and sat up to stretch her back. Mayu probably wouldn't even open her message, but at least she could say she tried to tell her family.

Not even ten seconds later, her phone screen lit up with a message of an incoming call. Kuri couldn't believe her eyes when she read the name of her caller.

Mayu?!

He never called. And he especially didn't do video calls—he was too lazy to point the camera at his face anyway. Kuri didn't think her text was shocking enough to warrant an immediate call, but maybe Mayu wanted to deliver some jokey response.

Kuri picked up, expecting to see the ceiling of Mayu's room, but instead met her mother's glare. Kuri's hand went slack, and she nearly dropped her phone.

"Woah, Mama?!" Kuri exclaimed. "What are you doing with Mayu's phone?"

"Why did you only tell your brother that you got a boyfriend? What about your father and I?" she demanded.

"Where's Mayu?" Kuri asked, searching the screen for any sign of him. The background looked like Mayu's bedroom, the walls faintly lit by his bedside lamp. Kuri tried to quell her rising panic to no avail, realizing her mom had to have seen the text.

"Next to me," she answered, a flicker of annoyance in her tone. The camera panned down, revealing Mayu sitting in his bed, tucked under the sheets.

Mama must've caught him using his phone before bed again, and she happened to see my message arrive… Damn it, what awful timing!

"Congrats, Kuri," Mayu said flatly, waving at the camera with amusement. Her mom turned the phone back to face herself again.

"That boy…" her mom trailed off, holding her chin as she returned to the topic. "He looks familiar. Do I know him?"

"Huh? I don't—" Kuri felt her life force draining with each additional word her mother said. Why did so many of their conversations have to turn into interrogations? Why couldn't they have a lighthearted conversation for once? Kuri wasn't mentally prepared for her mom's questioning, so she sputtered out the first excuse that came to mind. "It's late in California, right? I'll call back tomorrow and explain!"

This wouldn't free her for good, but it would buy her time to brainstorm an explanation for her hesitancy to divulge her updated relationship status.

"Ending the call so soon?" Her mom frowned. "Alright, honey, talk to you tomorrow."

"Bring your boyfriend, too," Mayu mischievously suggested from off-screen. A half-disguised grimace slipped onto Kuri's face, and she watched with dread as her mom's face lit up.

"Good idea!" she exclaimed. "Yes, Kuri, do that! See you both tomorrow."

"Bye…" Kuri mumbled, hanging up almost before she finished saying the word.

Kuri placed her phone on her nightstand and let herself fall back onto her pillow again. She laid her arm across her eyes, shielding them from the afternoon light streaming through the sliding glass door. Her cheeks were warm to the touch from that short interaction, so Kuri could only imagine how much more embarrassed she'd be when she had to call back with Katsuki in tow.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Kuri pushed herself up and sighed. Her family wouldn't let her off the hook until she detailed every part of their relationship to prove that it wouldn't distract her from school and her work study. Kuri was in for a very long-winded lecture if she failed to make her case. And before that, she would have to push her way through an exhausting call home. She couldn't wait…

Kuri combed her hands through her slightly tangled hair, mussed from lying on her bed, and stood. She quickly put her hair in a ponytail and emerged from her room to look for Katsuki.

She went to his room and knocked on the door lightly.

"Who is it?" he grumbled from within.

"Me," Kuri answered. "I need to ask you something."

Having heard her voice, Katsuki said he'd be right there. Kuri heard a loud thump and some shuffling before the door swung open.

Katsuki leaned against the door frame as he looked down at her. He removed his grease-stained white gloves and raised his eyebrows. Kuri glanced into his room, noticing his gauntlets sitting on a piece of cloth on the floor with some tools beside them. She flitted her gaze back up to his face.

"What's up?" he asked.

Kuri smiled sheepishly and told of the catastrophe that had just occurred.

"...and now my mom wants you and I to call. Just to kinda explain ourselves, I guess."

"You think they want to test if I'm good enough for you?" Katsuki chuckled, probably hoping to ease her worry with his smile.

"Maybe," Kuri sighed. "So, would you mind talking to my parents tomorrow? You can turn them down, by the way."

Kuri looked at him, pleading with her eyes that he would say no. Instead, Katsuki smirked.

"You know, I haven't told my parents about us either—my mom will lose her mind," Katsuki said. "Whenever she finds out, it'll probably be against my will."

"I guess we share the same struggle," Kuri smiled empathetically. Although, in the back of her mind, she thought it would be fun to meet Katsuki's family.

"And we'll help each other through it," Katsuki said, reaching out a hand to pat her shoulder. "So, let's talk to your parents tomorrow. It'll be okay."

He flashed Kuri a reassuring grin that melted some of her uneasiness. Finally, she conceded with a sigh.

"Fine, I guess you'll be meeting my parents tomorrow. Well, if a phone call counts," Kuri shrugged. "Let's hope my mom doesn't find a way to lecture us about not training enough. She's such a workaholic."

"Then, should we go to Ground Beta?" Katsuki suggested. "I want to see if my alterations worked." He nodded his head toward his gauntlets on the floor behind him.

"Well, I guess I do need to practice my new move… Just don't make us run post-workout laps this time," Kuri begged with an exaggerated pout, earning a smirk from Katsuki.

"No promises."

The next morning, Kuri invited Katsuki to her room to partake in the dreaded phone call. Kuri lost sleep the night before, worrying her parents would force them to break up or spill all of Kuri's embarrassing secrets in an attempt to welcome Katsuki into the family. Two extreme situations, one much more terrifying and likely than the other.

They sat at the little table in the center of her room, and Kuri pulled up her mom's contact information, uncertainly staring at the "Call" button. Though Kuri didn't express her fears outright, Katsuki seemed to take notice, and he placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder. Kuri gave him a weak smile, pulled up her brother's information instead, and called him without a second thought. After staring at a loading screen for several seconds, Mayu's face appeared on Kuri's phone.

"Hey, Mayu!" Kuri greeted her brother, who placed his device down as soon as she spoke. From the corner of her eye, she caught Katsuki throwing her a confused glance. "So, does Mama still expect me to introduce Katsuki to all of you?"

It was around six in the evening back in California, so her family should all be at home and free to talk, but she was really hoping that in the busyness of her parents' work day, they had forgotten to follow up with her.

"Yeah, she's been waiting the whole day for you," Mayu replied, still off-camera. Kuri closed her eyes momentarily, sighing resignedly. Looks like they really had to do this. "I'll go find her."

Mayu took the phone with him as he traveled to their living room, and Kuri caught glimpses of the hallway of her childhood home. Though extremely familiar, Kuri felt an odd detachment from the place. Maybe she'd been away for too long, so it felt less like home.

As soon as Mayu entered the living room and announced Kuri's (digital) presence, her parents rushed to the phone and perched themselves on the couch, smothering Mayu between them. Kuri's mom took control of Mayu's phone, holding it up so all three of them were visible. Then, the rapid-fire greetings and questions poured out.

"Hi, honey!"

"How are you two?"

"We're so happy for you!"

"When did you start dating?"

…And they were all in English.

Kuri only realized that might be a problem when she noticed Katsuki's heavily disguised overwhelm. Kuri knew he was pretty good at English, but that was in school. Forget being top of the class, his teaching so far definitely hadn't prepared him to speak with Kuri's family; every one of them had a knack for talking too fast if in the right mood.

"Woah, woah, everybody pause," Kuri said in Japanese, waving her hands and then turning to look at Katsuki. "Were you able to follow what they were saying?"

He spared an unsure glance back at Kuri's phone, then awkwardly shook his head.

"I caught most of it, but your parents talk hella fast," he admitted.

"We can speak in Japanese if that would be better. Though, we'll have to translate for my mom since she's not fluent," Kuri suggested. As she said this, she heard muttering on the other end of the line and noticed that her dad was already relaying their conversation to her mom. "I guess my dad and I can take turns translating when necessary. Think that'll be okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Kuri turned back to her phone and clapped her hands together.

"Mama, for Katsuki's sake, we're gonna speak Japanese for most of this call, but me and Dada will translate for you."

Her mother frowned deeply upon hearing her decision, and she leaned closer to Mayu's phone as she adopted an offended glower.

"I'd rather not be left behind in this conversation," she said curtly.

"The Japanese speakers are in the majority, Mama," Mayu piped up. Kuri internally thanked him for speaking her exact thoughts. "You should go back to learning it."

Upon hearing the input of her favorite child—she would deny this, but Kuri knew better—her mom leaned back and slowly crossed her arms in defeat. Her small frown didn't leave her lips.

Before the silence went on long enough to push the situation into awkwardness, Kuri's dad asked an icebreaker question.

"So, how long have you two been dating?" he asked in Japanese before whispering the same question to his wife in English. Kuri glanced at Katsuki, indicating he could take the reins for this answer.

"I asked Kuri out near the end of November, so it's been about two months," Katsuki replied. Mayu leaned over to their mom to translate Katsuki's answer.

"I wonder how much longer he'll put up with Kuri," he added with an impish smirk.

"Shut up, Mayu," Kuri barked.

And just a second ago, he was helping…

Mayu tended to switch up on Kuri whenever he felt like it, offering help with a game one day and then stealing all her snacks. In recent years, he was more antagonistic, but Kuri hoped it was just a phase.

"Both of you, stop it," their mom cut in. "Don't fight with each other in the middle of a conversation; it's rude."

Kuri's dad quickly delivered a hushed translation of her words to the phone.

"I wasn't fighting," Mayu said. Their mom rolled her eyes and abruptly moved on.

"Kuri, yesterday, I showed your father the picture you sent Mayu, and he figured out that we'd seen Katsuki during the sports festival."

Kuri told Katsuki what her mom said.

"Yes, I remembered that you won the second round together!" her dad mentioned in English before quickly switching to Japanese to repeat his sentence and add a little extra. "Also, that picture of you two was adorable."

Kuri and Katsuki both grinned shyly and thanked him. Though she was the one to send the picture, Kuri felt a bit embarrassed that everyone saw it.

"Hey, dude," Mayu said suddenly. Kuri eyed him suspiciously, worried her brother would say something out of line again. "Why do you even like Kuri?"

Their mom shook his shoulder lightly to prompt a translation from him, and he eventually obliged.

Katsuki's face reddened from the nature of the question, and so did Kuri's. Why would Mayu ask this in the middle of a family call?! Just to be an asshole? Probably.

Kuri glanced at Katsuki awkwardly considering his response. She wanted to tell him he could just not answer, but that would be a bad look for the both of them. Plus, Kuri wanted to hear what he'd say. Katsuki took a deep breath.

"She's kind and makes me laugh," he said hesitantly. Kuri smiled. "And she's strong and intelligent."

Mayu blinked at him as if expecting more. Kuri placed her palm under her chin and rested her fingertips on her cheek to cutely frame her face.

Maybe something like this will satisfy Mayu's desire for us to embarrass ourselves.

"And…?" she prompted her boyfriend, who peeked at her with a raised eyebrow.

After a beat too long of silent confusion—but before Kuri thought of mouthing the answer to him—Katsuki made a face of realization and finished her sentence.

"And she's pretty."

Kuri smiled sweetly, and her dad cooed affectionately at their display before translating what Katsuki had said.

"Eugh, I regret asking," Mayu said in a disgusted fashion common to thirteen-year-old boys.

Kuri's mom smirked, and Kuri wasn't sure why. Before she could decipher her mother's expression, her gaze flipped from Kuri to Katsuki.

"Is he treating you well?"

Kuri hesitated before repeating the question to Katsuki in Japanese. She shot him a cautionary glance, an indescribable gut feeling telling her a storm was coming. She sensed a challenge in her mother's words.

Kuri replied with a confident yes, and her mother shifted in her seat.

"Because when your father reminded me that Katsuki competed in the sports festival with you, I realized we had seen him before that. I worry my first impression of him was not… the best."

Kuri's brow furrowed as she relayed this information to Katsuki. She noticed some confusion—or maybe dread?—on the faces of Mayu and her dad.

"She said that she saw you before we were in the sports festival together, and it gave her a bad impression of you," Kuri muttered, unsure of what her mom was talking about but afraid to ask. The conversation had gradually turned into uncharted waters, and Kuri had a hunch her mom was about to spring a whirlpool on them. Reluctantly, she asked her mom what she meant.

"His outburst at the first-year sports festival before you transferred," she answered impassively.

Kuri's mouth went bone-dry, and every muscle in her body tensed.

Shit. When I first met Katsuki, I knew he made a scene after the competition… Of course, Mama knew too—she watched the sports festival with us!

What was her mom getting at? Was her intention to make Katsuki out to be a monster just because he used to be a huge jerk?

Kuri's face furiously twisted into a frown. She'd put up with enough of her mom's scolding, but Kuri wouldn't let her mom attack Katsuki. She curled her hands into fists and took a quick breath.

"Why are you bringing this up? To make Katsuki look bad? Or is it to imply that I have bad judgment when it comes to choosing who I date?" Kuri asked these questions quickly, one after the other. Her mother was stunned, sitting slack-jawed and wide-eyed at Kuri's unexpected backtalk. Kuri didn't allow her time to respond. "Because you're always criticizing me, Mama, and I'm tired of it! Katsuki treats me very well, so I won't let you speculate otherwise based on your outdated first impression."

In the wake of her passionate rant, a heavy silence fell over the five. No one even bothered to translate what Kuri had said into Japanese. Kuri wasn't sure yet if she regretted her words since she was partly glad to get that off her chest. Kuri let her mom belittle her for years without saying anything, but she finally stood up for herself and managed to defend Katsuki.

Though she was proud of herself, Kuri realized the foolishness of her decision when she saw her mom's eye twitch. Her mother was visibly on the brink of exploding into a fierce reprimand, but after several seconds, she settled back into her cold, unbothered persona. She laughed dryly.

"Sorry, sweetie, I'm only teasing," she said, using her hand to delicately nudge a lock of blonde hair away from her face. Kuri slowly settled back into her seat, trying to stop from grinding her teeth as anger filled her again. Her mom had a horrible sense of humor. Why would she vilify Katsuki as a "joke?" Kuri suspected it was just an on-the-fly excuse because her mom didn't have a good comeback to Kuri's outburst, so her only escape was to pretend she meant no harm.

Kuri remembered she and her mom used to laugh together. They shared fond memories sometime before. Kuri wasn't exactly sure when the rift between them formed. It infuriated her to recall the growing chasm between them, the hopes of reconciliation becoming evermore unattainable as the years passed. Kuri's resentment filled her to the brim, bringing tears to boil at the corners of her eyes.

"It wasn't funny…" Katsuki roughly muttered, seemingly having caught the sentence and Kuri's preceding speech without translation. Kuri shot him a quick glance, then reached for his hand and held it under the table.

"What was that?" her mom asked, but neither Kuri nor Katsuki gave clarification. Kuri couldn't keep her tears at bay, and a few slipped out, sliding down her cheeks. She knew she needed to bail out of this disastrous call immediately.

"We gotta go," Kuri mumbled. She reached out toward her phone with her free hand to hang up. "Bye."

Kuri ended the call before anyone could respond. She didn't want to hear what they had to say anymore.


Katsuki watched worriedly as Kuri quickly shut off her phone and slumped down on her little table. She laid her head on her arm, her other hand still hanging onto his. Katsuki assumed her pose was deliberate; Kuri could rest her body after that tiresome call while hiding the tears he saw running down her face before she hung up.

Katsuki couldn't blame her for crying. That call was intense, and nearly all of Kuri's family's questions caught him off guard—besides her dad's. His gentle nature and excessive doting reminded Katsuki of his own dad. Kuri's mom was nothing like his, though. If Katsuki's mom was fiery and fervent, Kuri's mom was icy and inhospitable. Mayu was similarly aloof, but since he was just a thirteen-year-old he was the least intimidating person on that call. Not that Kuri's parents had necessarily shaken him to his core because Kuri was always there to back him up. Maybe he'd relied on her too much, though, because now she looked exhausted…

"Kuri, are you okay?" Katsuki hesitantly asked. Kuri remained face down as she responded.

"That's what I should be asking you," she said miserably. "I can't believe my mom said all that. I'm sorry…"

"It's not your fault, Bunny," Katsuki insisted, lightly squeezing her hand. He smiled fondly at her, even though she couldn't see his face. "And you stuck up for me. Thanks."

Kuri was silent for a while, and Katsuki wondered if he should convince her to go downstairs and eat since it was already noon. Then, he heard a quiet sniffle.

"I just wish she'd be nicer," Kuri mumbled.

And just like that, she began to sob. Kuri's cries wracked her hunched-over frame, and Katsuki rubbed her back to try and soothe her. He wasn't sure he could make much of a difference, though, because he didn't think Kuri was just crying about today. From what Kuri had told him, her relationship with her mom had been strained for years. Her breakdown must've been the result of her pent-up sadness.

Despite guessing Kuri wasn't just upset for him, Katsuki thought he should still assure her he was fine.

"If you're worried about me, Bunny, there's no need. Your family didn't hurt my feelings. I know I used to be shitty, and they just want you to be safe," Katsuki said. Kuri didn't respond but reduced her bawling to quiet weeping. "Anyway, I don't care what your parents think of me because you love me. That's what matters, right?"

It was the tritest thing he could've said, but his words were nonetheless sincere. Apparently, it was also a very moving thing to say because Kuri resumed her loud crying.

After a few seconds, Kuri sat up, glancing at Katsuki momentarily with her bloodshot eyes and runny nose before turning to her other side. She grabbed a tissue box and placed it on the table.

"I knew something like this would happen," Kuri said, her voice watery and trembling. She pulled out several tissues and wiped her face. "So, I came prepared."

After a minute or so of cleaning herself up and sobbing intermittently, Kuri feebly asked for a hug. Katsuki was more than willing to oblige, and he wrapped her tightly in his arms. Kuri silently leaned against him, her arms loosely encircling his waist, and Katsuki felt her sorrow. He rested his cheek on top of her head.

Katsuki wished he could change the past for Kuri—whether that meant getting her mom to be gentler or for Katsuki to never have been the kind of guy that would warrant her parents' concern. Too bad, both of those options were out of the question. He would just have to do all he could to comfort and support Kuri now, as her formerly shitty classmate turned shitty friend turned not-as-shitty boyfriend.

Katsuki chuckled internally at his description of himself. If Kuri ever heard Katsuki use such words about himself, she would definitely replace those adjectives with more generous ones, considering she was way nicer to him than he was to himself. He was so grateful to be with Kuri. Nothing and no one could make him let go of her except Kuri herself.

With that, an idea struck him—one that had the power to cheer Kuri up. It was risky, given his track record for failing to get his point across, but Katsuki hoped he'd somewhat improved since he had managed to ask Kuri out. What he had in mind couldn't be much harder than that.

"Bunny, would you mind calling your parents back?"

"Huh?" Kuri pulled back a bit and looked up at Katsuki, bewildered. He noticed the redness on her scleras made her hazel irises look greener. "What for?"

"I have something to say to them," Katsuki shrugged, not elaborating further. Kuri furrowed her brow, slightly suspicious, but reached out an arm to grab her phone from the table without exiting their hug.

"Alright. Just don't say anything too crazy."

Kuri pulled up her dad's contact information for a change and dialed his number. She slouched out of view of the camera, just the top of her head showing on the screen. Katsuki, however, was in full view. After waiting a bit, Kuri's dad picked up, and the screen displayed him in what Katsuki presumed to be their dining room.

"Hello, honey, you're back!" Kuri's dad greeted them quickly, getting up and shuffling elsewhere. He talked to someone off-screen, urging them to come over. A second later, Kuri's mom appeared beside him. The two were in their living room again. "Is there more you wanted to talk about?"

"Katsuki has something he wants to say," Kuri said shortly. She handed the phone off to Katsuki, and he took it readily. "Get ready to translate, Dada."

Katsuki swallowed and took a deep breath. He tightened his grip on Kuri's phone and looked directly at Kuri's parents.

"When I met Kuri, I was rude, but she still wanted to be my friend. I pushed her away, and in return, she pestered me until we became friends. She kept showering kindness on me, and I didn't get why, but it made me happy. You probably know your daughter better than I do, but I've seen sides of her I never expected to, and I love all of them," Katsuki said firmly. He paused, allowing Kuri's dad to translate what he'd said so far to his wife. Her expression became increasingly perplexed as Kuri's dad went on. When he stopped, Katsuki threw in another compliment. "She's the loveliest person I've ever known."

"Katsuki, where are you going with this?" Kuri whispered. Her tone suggested his words pleased her, but she still looked confused. He flashed her a confident half-smile, assuring her he had a point.

"Even if you never accept me or think I'm worthy of Kuri, I'll keep loving her," Katsuki continued. He glanced down at his girlfriend, hiding from her parents' view. Too bad they couldn't see the grin on her face. "I am lucky to have even met her, so I won't give her up for anything."

Kuri giggled quietly in delight and looked up at Katsuki with bright eyes.

"You all done?" she asked. Katsuki nodded and handed her phone back to her. Kuri sat up, still not exactly extricating herself from the hug, and continued to hold onto Katsuki's arm. Her mom stared at them with raised eyebrows, and her dad looked on with a fond smile. "You catch all that, Dada? If not, just tell Mama that I'm in great hands. Talk to you again next week. Bye, everyone!"

Beaming from ear to ear, Kuri hung up and shifted to face Katsuki. When she looked at him, he swore it felt like the world stopped for a second.

"Katsuki, that was the sweetest thing you could've said," Kuri said. Her smile exuded so much love, Katsuki thought her cheeks would burst. "You're the loveliest person I've ever known."

Kuri gave him a peck on the cheek, and Katsuki glanced away shyly, blush running all over his skin.

"I said way too much…" he muttered, hiding his red face with his hands. At least, he'd got across what he intended… Katsuki hoped he'd forget that he'd said a bunch of romantic stuff in front of Kuri's parents. He wasn't sure how he'd ever face them again if he didn't.

"On the contrary, I don't think you said enough," Kuri giggled. "Now, let's get lunch! I'm hungry after all that crying."