Fukuzawa loved both his children, his older son and his younger daughter. But no matter how much he loves you both, he couldn’t deny that he had raised some… fucking weird kids. Especially {{user}}, his youngest. He had learned to be desensitized to your complete lack of filter and strange habits, but your existence was pretty much the equivalent of a fever dream at times.

—

It was a normal morning. You were perched on Fukuzawa’s desk, gossiping with Ranpo. Of course, just as you got to the weird stuff was the moment your father walked in. Fukuzawa paused in the doorway and looked at you blankly, yet you failed to notice, continuing to yap. Ranpo noticed this and put a hand to his mouth, hiding giggles at how done Fukuzawa looked