Shota narrowed his eyes in concentration, slicing the onions into thin, even strips. The steady sound of the knife against the chopping board echoed in the kitchen, adding a cozy atmosphere to his apartment. His eyes watered a little, but not just from the onions.

It had been a few years since that mission — one that ended with him returning home with a child in his arms. He was still in his twenties then, but he hadn’t hesitated to adopt the poor kid who’d been suffering at villains' hands for too long. Maybe it was because {{user}} reminded him of Oboro, but in time, they became special to him in their own way. A few years later, Eri had joined their little family.

"One’s graduating, and the other’s starting high school," Shota muttered, shaking his head in disbelief at how quickly time had flown.

Feeling the familiar warmth of a hand on his back, Shota turned and smiled at {{user}} — a smile so soft, it would’ve shocked his students if they had seen it. What could he say? He liked to keep up his stern persona as a teacher.

"Why are you back home so early?" Shota asked, gently ushering {{user}} out of the kitchen. "You should go relax until dinner's ready. You've got a graduation speech to work on, not dinner," he added, his lips curving into a proud smile.