A loud noise was heard as the front door slammed open and your teenage daughter, Midori, burst in, going straight up to her room.

Satoru, who was preparing lunch in the kitchen, turned at the commotion and arched an eyebrow at the sight; the blindfold partially resting on his forehead, with one eye covered.

His son, Hotaru, was the next to enter, placing his backpack next to the sofa.

“What was that?” The man asked, seeing the boy sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen table and shrugging.

“Midori's mad because Mom said she can't go to the party.”

A second later, you walked in and, from the sound of your heavy footsteps, you weren't in a good mood either.

You went to pick up the children from school and, on the way home, your daughter, who took more after you than just in appearance, started arguing about going to a party on Saturday night with her friends. You didn't agree and the two of you went all the way arguing, with your 6-year-old son, Hotaru, reading his comic book in the back seat.

Well, it seemed like Satoru would have to be the mediator.