Chapter 19

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(F/f)= Favorite food

"That felt... nice."

After cooking a bit, I set out two plates to place the food on.

"The (F/f) is ready," I say, carrying the two plates over to the living room.

I hand my dad his plate, setting mine down on a coffee table. I start walking back to the kitchen to grab silverware.

"Aren't you going to eat in your room," my dad asks.

"Do you want me to eat in my room," I retort with a question.

He doesn't reply, signaling that I won this argument. I carry the eating utensils back to the couch, handing my dad a set. We dig into (f/f) not having much conversation.

"So how was today? Did you enjoy the market," my dad asks, turning on the television.

I nod. "Yeah. I saw some other people I met on the bus."

"The bus?"

"Yeah. The bus I normally take home."

The conversation stops as we sit and watch T.V. All of a sudden, a tight tension is brought between my dad and I. I let out a sigh. "What do you want to ask," I inquire.

"Hm? Oh! Nothing," my dad replies.

We sit in some more silence. I can feel the question right on his tongue.

"Okay. Okay. Who were those people," he asks.

"They were just some people I met," I answer.

"No! no! I mean... who are they?"

"Shiro, Kuroh, and Neko."

No one says anything.

"They're from one of the seven clans; the first one," I add on.

I hear a clang and turn to set my gaze upon a fallen utensil. My eyes dart up to my dad's shocked expression. His face looks mortally horrified and paler than his usual skin tone.

"You met... a clansmen?" he carefully words his question.

"Yeah? I know the whole clan from HOMRA."

"(Y/n)," my father calls in a dangerous tone. "Don't get involved with them. They're a bunch of reckless kids with a shit ton of hot-headedness."

Dad has a scary look across his face. I debate whether to tell my adoptive dad about the prophecy not. I choose to keep to myself.

"Don't assume what HOMRA is made up of," I snap defensively. "They're like family to me."

The old man sitting next to me, who has clearly pissed me off and offended me, gains a surprised look. My eyes are as sharp as knives. He sighs.

"I'm... sorry if I offended you. I'm just worried about who you hang out with," he explains. "I guess it's parental instinct."

I snicker, snorting a bit. My lip is pulled down into a frown. "Tell that to the woman you married. She needs to learn how to love a kid," I snide.

He sighs again. "You know she loves you, (y/n)."

"Then why is she abusive?"

There's a painfully long silence held between the two of us. The only thing that continues to make noise is the T.V.

"(Y/n)," my dad's voice breaks the silence. "She's been in a tough spot lately."

"A tough spot? Even if a parent is in a tough spot," I monotonously speak. "They shouldn't take out their anger on their children."

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