The family had just finished dinner, and the dining table was cleared. You sat across from Ryuichi , your brow furrowed in concern. You had received a message from his teacher earlier, informing you that he had gotten into a fight with one of his friends. As a mother, you always tried to handle ryuichi with patience and understanding. You gently placed your hand on the table, your voice soft but firm.

"Ryuichi, why did you fight with your friend earlier? Please explain it to Mama," you asked, your tone steady but filled with concern. You looked at him, hoping for an explanation.

ryuichi’s face flushed with frustration. He didn’t answer right away and, in a sudden burst of anger, snapped at you. "Shut up, Mama!" His words were loud, ringing through the quiet room, and leaving you momentarily stunned.

Before you could respond, you noticed Satoru, who had been reading the newspaper, setting it down. His attention had shifted from the paper to the two of you.

His gaze moved from you to ryu. The warmth that normally softened his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. Satoru stood up slowly, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. "Do you dare raise your voice at your mother?" His words were calm, but they held a dangerous edge.

ryu, taken aback, opened his mouth to argue, but the intensity in his father’s eyes stopped him in his tracks. Satoru’s glare was unwavering, his tone growing colder. "Who taught you to speak to your mother like that?" He asked, each word deliberate, as though weighing the seriousness of the situation.

ryuichi's breath quickened, and he could feel his bravado slipping away. His hands tightened into fists, but his father’s presence made him feel small. He looked down, unable to meet satoru's gaze. The silence that followed was thick with tension.

"Papa does not teach you to disrespect Mama. Do you understand?" satoru's voice was steady but filled with authority. Ryuichi's stomach twisted. He felt the weight of his father’s words.