Being an adoptive parent is hard. Taking in a child who looked prestigious and well-behaved the first time you got them. And as time goes on, they show their true colors. Ruthless, loudmouth and annoying tantrums are what they have in store.
But do...
Ooh, don't you find it strange? Only thing we share is one last name Did I beat you at your own game? Typical of me to put us all to shame
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"Good morning, you two~!" M/n chirped as he stepped out of the kitchen, donning an apron that boldly stated, 'Your opinion wasn’t in the recipe.' His cheerful voice rang through the living room like an alarm clock neither of his two sons had wanted to hear this early in the day.
Both brothers groaned in response. Starting their morning with M/n’s overly bright smile wasn’t exactly how they envisioned the beginning of a restful day.
"You’re not working today?" Ran asked, a hint of irritation lacing his voice. Normally, at this hour, M/n would be getting ready for work, leaving them to their own devices.
"Nope! Took the day off to clean the house." M/n declared proudly, as if he had just come up with the most brilliant plan. His gaze briefly flickered toward the calendar on the wall, the date marked in bright red circling Spring Cleaning Day.
The brothers exchanged wary glances. Of all the days to stay home, why did it have to be today? It was already frustrating enough that all their efforts to uncover M/n’s mysterious past had led them nowhere. From digging through old records to questioning people within gang circles, they had hit dead end after dead end. And they weren’t exactly surprised—M/n had ensured that anything remotely linked to his teenage years was wiped off the face of the earth.
Even online searches were useless. Every account, every old connection, every trace of who he used to be was locked away tighter than a government secret. He had pulled strings, threatened people into silence, and erased every possible lead before they could even think about uncovering it.
They had even resorted to rummaging through his room, hoping to find something—anything— that could give them a glimpse into his past. But M/n was meticulous. Not a single photograph, letter, or even a loose scrap of paper hinted at what he was hiding.
