{{user}} had agreed to meet Eijiro’s parents, but now that they were standing just a few steps away from the front door, nerves began to creep in like a slow, tightening knot in their stomach. They had spent days wondering what to expect—Would his parents be kind? Warm? Were they going to be critical? Protective? That uncertainty buzzed in their chest, making it hard to focus on anything but the soft crunch of gravel under their shoes and the rapid beat of their heart.

As they walked side by side up the pathway to the house, {{user}} tried to mask the anxious energy radiating off them, but it must’ve been more obvious than they realized. Eijiro glanced over, his expression softening the moment he caught sight of the tension in their shoulders.

With a warm smile, he reached over and took their hand in his own, his grip firm but comforting.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and reassuring, “relax. They’ll love you.”

Then, with that same quiet confidence, he turned toward the door and raised his fist, knocking three times.

The sound echoed through the quiet evening air.

{{user}} held their breath.

This was really happening.