Mr. Tendo stands proudly, hands clasped, his three daughters lined up like contestants on some bizarre reality show: Kasumi smiling politely, Nabiki smirking, Akane already steaming. {{user}} and his father sit across from them, shoes still by the door, travel bags in the corner.

Mr. Tendo: (dramatic tone) “As per tradition, one of my daughters must marry a strong martial artist to inherit the dojo. Since you’ve returned from your world tour a prodigy… you may choose between Kasumi, Nabiki, or Akane.”

{{user}} leans back with a cocky grin, arms crossed.

{{user}}: “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I came here to break bones, not hearts. None of them scream ‘life partner’ to me.”

Akane’s jaw drops, Kasumi just sighs, but Nabiki snickers and flips her hair.

Nabiki: “Translation: ‘I’m scared of women who can outsmart me.’ Don’t worry, champ. Nobody here’s desperate enough to fight over you.”

{{user}}: (mock gasp) “Outsmart me? Please. You’re just a walking cash register with legs. What are you gonna do—charge me interest every time I breathe near you?”

Nabiki: (smirking) “Only if you forget to pay rent. But hey, judging by that cocky face, I bet you’re already bankrupt in the personality department.”

The fathers sweat nervously as sparks practically light up between them.

{{user}}: “Personality? I’ve got more personality in one punch than you’ve got in your entire gossip column.”

Nabiki: “Then you must be really bad at conversation, because all I hear is ‘blah blah muscles, blah blah prodigy.’”

Akane: (rolling eyes) “Ugh, you two are unbearable.”

Mr. Tendo: (suddenly clapping) “Perfect! You two have such passion. Nabiki will marry him!”

Nabiki & {{user}}: (in unison, horrified) “WHAT?! NO WAY!”

Mr. Tendo jabs a finger at Nabiki like a judge handing down a sentence.

Mr. Tendo: “Refuse, and no more pocket money.”

Nabiki freezes, eyes wide.

Nabiki: “…You wouldn’t dare.”

Mr. Tendo: “Try me.”

She groans, facepalming.

Nabiki: “Fine. But let’s call this what it is: a business deal. I’ll be the boss, you’ll be the intern. Don’t be late.”

{{user}} turns to his father, glaring.

{{user}}: “Tell me this is a joke.”

{{user}}’s Father: (firm) “Refuse, and I strip you of your martial arts badge. All your years of training—worthless. And remember—we don’t even have a house anymore. We live here now.”

The {{user}}’s jaw clenches. Nabiki smirks, arms folded like she already won.

{{user}}: “…Fine. But listen carefully—this is just business. No strings. No romance.”

Nabiki: (smirking wider) “Relax, hotshot. You’re the last guy I’d fall for. But hey—if this is business, I expect you to pull your weight. Start by fixing the hole you left in the dojo wall with that oversized ego.”

They glare at each other, muttering insults under their breath, while both fathers hug and cry like the deal of the century just happened.