Compositional Break
By: Chocolate-chan
Dunno... limey? Whatever. If you're still reading you must not care. ::cracks fingers to get down to the business of Home Wreckin'::

"Trunks, you home?" Goten called ahead, kicking his shoes off in the genkan, the entryway were Trunks' and Keisuke's shoes were piled up, and setting down his bag. He didn't see any signs of activity, even in the kitchen, but he thought he could smell his husband nearby. He clomped gracelessly up the stairs, feeling tired. The night before Trunks had been unable to sleep, so of course Goten felt the effects as well. Fortunately for him, Trunks had been in a rather friendly mood....
In the bedroom, Trunks laid on the bed under the window whose blinds had been drawn tight shut. His arm was thrown across his eyes, blocking out all perception, and his chest rose and fell regularly.
Aww... Goten was unable to stop himself from thinking. Look at them, they're so cute...
Three months ago, Trunks had gone to his mother and a doctor friend of hers she was consulting with whom she'd met during her schooling while she was earning her MD. Bulma had at last confirmed that he was pregnant, after much debating with her friend, who was a pediatrician, and Vegeta who was the so-dubbed "Resident Expert of Saiyan Physiology" and given him the good news. Bulma's friend was stunned. Vegeta made some comment about human doctors being just fine for "that boy."
Goten sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his socks as he thought to himself. Now in six or seven, or maybe even eight months I'm going to be a father! Again. Goten reminded himself to add that.
He always felt guilty when he forgot, because he loved Ai as if she were his own daughter, even though he had had to give her up what seemed like a long time ago. I wonder if it always feels like you're giving them up when they get married? Goten had helped raise Trunks' four kids, but he had always considered Ai his first, and at least at first, his only kid. After the seven of them had "warmed into it" as a family unit, the separation became irrelvant, and Goten loved them all anyway, even when they were horrible. Maybe kids were his weakness. And they all had wont to be horrible and stuck up, being Trunks' kids and by extension Vegeta's descendants. if Vegeta had ever wanted to give him trouble, he could be rest assured that his family had.
There was no change from the soft sounds of the room as Trunks rose to a sitting position and dropped a hand on Goten's forearm. Goten roused himself from his reverie and blinked at Trunks for a moment before realizing how serious he probably looked, and smiling at him. "Did I wake you?"
"No," Trunks grunted slightly, moving to sit closer to him.
Goten frowned. "Where's Keisuke?"
"Studying at Yuuko's."
"They've been close the past few months," Goten noted.
"As I recall, Yuuko has a fair number of younger siblings?" Trunks reached up absently and brushed bangs from his eyes. "We shocked poor Keisuke. He's always been the youngest anyway."
"Are you saying he didn't want to deal with not being the baby?" Goten laughed slightly as he turned slightly, bringing one leg up to face Trunks better. "He was always spoiled."
Trunks smiled as though pleading no contest, and Goten sighed and crawled up and kissed him. "I didn't even get welcomed home."
"Screw you," Trunks told him in a derisive tone. "I feel sick."
Goten frowned and tilted his head a bit as Trunks turned his gaze to the far wall in sudden thought. "Is this along the lines of that morning sickness thing?"
"I'll tell ya, I don't know what the hell I've got, but it sure as hell doesn't look like morning sickness!" Trunks seemed to pout slightly, picking at the issue, a little put-out. "It doesn't feel like what Marron ever described."
Goten looked at him silently for a moment. Trunks happened to glance up and read a slight yearning in his eyes, something that he tried to keep muted. With a start he realized that the emotion was familiar. "You know why I'm doing this at all, right?"
Goten shook his head with a puzzled smile.
"'Cause I think it's high time you had to wait in the waiting room, biting your fingers and all nervous." Trunks nodded slightly. "Man's not a man anyway, till he has to watch childbirth without passing out."
"So which is it, watching or waiting?"
"Both," Trunks decided. "Welcome home by the way."
Goten laughed lightly, moving to support himself on one hand and wrap the other about the other demi-saiyan, kissing him on the lips for a long indulgent moment. His hand drifted down to Trunks' abdomen, settling lightly across his stomach. Trunks was unable to tell if it was unconscious or no, so he didn't say anything.
"I still feel guilty," Goten said.
"About Ai?" Trunks seemed sympathetic.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"What else have you felt guilty about in the past three months?"
"I mean, I talked to her. She said she understood, but.... I mean, I feel like I'm not giving my relationship with her the respect it deserves." Goten frowned and hugged Trunks as he thought.
"If I felt that way I wouldn't have sons," Trunks said matter-of-factly. "Or probably any kids at all."
Goten didn't entirely understand that, but put it aside to comment, "Yeah, but that's different. What I have with Ai as my daughter is something the two of us worked really hard to build. This kid," Goten rubbed his hand across Trunks' midsection, "Is going to have the kind of relationship with me that took such effort from us, even before it's born, automatically. And Ai, well....."
"She really earned it?" Trunks gave him a wry glance. "Goten, Ai is a mother herself now. I think she has at least some idea how you feel wanting to have your own kid."
"She didn't want to be pregnant."
"That's irrelevant," Trunks told him. "Do you think I was exactly jumping up and down to have my first kid? I never looked for it, I was lucky I was married at the time in fact, but either way I was going to love my kid, and it was going to be assured a parental relationship with me..."
"Big words. No use-um big words."
"And anyway, I came to care about Ai as much as my own children. So I do know what I'm talking about."
"What are you talking about?"
"Speaking of which, she called. She wants to know if we can watch Marron later this week."
"Sure thing!" Goten brightened. He kissed Trunks again on the mouth. "You hungry? I'm starved."
"You're always hungry... I don't know if I could eat."
"Aww..." Goten kissed him on the cheek and headed out of the room without another word. Trunks blinked, then laid back on the bed again, looking at the ceiling. In another minute or so there was a light knock on the door. Goten pushed it open again and stood with a tray, sporting cake and a big glass of milk. "Sure you can't eat?" Goten knew very well that no matter how he tried, Trunks could not turn down sweets.
"Well, if you insist," Trunks said, sitting up and sounding very put-upon.
"I thought so." Goten set the tray over his lap and lounged on the end of the bed, watching him with a smile.

Trunks was moving slowly. He had volunteered to mow the lawn and Goten had been forced to allow it since he knew he was protecting the elder demi-saiyan too much. But he kept on eye on him. Sure, he was only a little over three months along, and human women could still operate almost normally at that point, but Goten was still worried. After all, you never know what kind of complications could arise in any pregnancy, much less what one of their species would consider unprecedented and the other would consider at least risk due to the lack of knowledgeable care facilities.
Goten fought the urge to go and take his chore away from him- he's not a child! - and do it himself. But Trunks moved very slowly, until at last he shook his head and motioned to Goten to do it. He hopped up from his seat and over to Trunks' side, where he was moving towards the house.
"Is everything alright?"
"I'm just not feeling well," Trunks told him as he breathed a little unevenly. "It's okay, go on."
"Are you sure? I get worried when you're unwell." Goten paced him, frowning towards him as he tried to figure out whether he was overreacting or not.
"I'm fine. I'll go have Keisuke get me some water, alright?"
"Hai," Goten muttered and dropped back, heading back toward the lawnmower. As he tried to get it started again without yanking off the cord (Again), there was a shout from the direction of the house.
"Goten!"
Goten frowned and, recognizing Keisuke's cry of alarm, headed back into the house with long strides. "What? What's wrong?"
As he rounded the corner and went into the kitchen where the teen had obviously run back into, he could smell a familiar sweet tang. Blood? Did something-?
Trunks was lying on the floor in the kitchen, and Keisuke was holding his head.
"He passed out," the boy said even as he opened his mouth. "Hit his head. It's not too bad, I think..."
Goten could tell that it was not as he dropped to his knees, but he cursed himself anyway. Why didn't I come with? I could have at least caught him.
"Hospital or O-baa-chan's?"
"Your grandmother's," Goten decided.
Trunks woke on the way there, and was obviously prompted to tread carefully by Goten's expression. "What happened?"
"Everything's fine, you just passed out. Nothing like pregnancy to make a warrior wilt, right?"
Trunks frowned. "I'm fine, I think. Where are we going?"
"Nowhere, for a while. We're here."
"Are you upset?"
"Well," Goten said as Keisuke stepped out of the car. "Yeah. I should be more careful when it comes to you."
"I'm not that fragile."
"I keep trying to tell myself that," Goten muttered as he moved to bring his mate to his feet.

The boy tapped his pencil. He looked left, right, tapped it harder. He reached up and pushed his bangs from his face, letting the wrist snap naturally back and forth on his right hand against the textbook he had open.
"Cut it out!" He received dirty glances from those around him.
"Gomen," he whispered, chuckling slightly. Then he sighed and laid his head on the desk, yawning softly. He woke with a trail of drool running down his chin as the bell rang and students around him sprang from their seats.
"Tsuki!" A voice called. "Moon-head!"
"Shaddup," he grumbled, wiping his chin discreetly, shoving his books into his bag and standing to look around. "Hey. What time is it?"
"Your favorite time of the day," someone said.
"Huh?" Tsuki rubbed his eyes.
"Lunchtime," came an amused voice from behind the group he was walking with. Tsuki turned and smiled, easily recognizing his nephew, who just happened to be a year older than he was. The blond-haired boy joined his group and assumed his hereditary place right over the boy's right shoulder.
"Yoshi!" Tsuki grinned and readjusted his books. "Are you coming to eat at my place tonight?"
"Depends.... who's cooking?"
"Papa," he said, grinning. "I'm gonna make him cook potatoes!"
Yoshitsune looked down at his shorter uncle, amused by the round face that grinned up at him with all the delight in the world written on his features. He could tell from the creases in his face that the young high school freshman had fallen asleep in his class again.
"Now hurry up! I don't wanna wait in line all day! I might die!" The fifteen-year-old pouted as he urged his little group faster through the crowds that rimmed the cafeteria.
"Are you really so eager to have glop-in-a-cup to eat again?" Yoshi looked somewhat dubious. "Mama says I shouldn't eat that stuff. It's probably made from dead cats, she says, and how would I like to eat Fluffy?" Everyone laughed at the expression on his face. Tsuki perked up at the thought of Chieko, Yoshi's delightful artistic mother.
"Will Chieko-san be there?"
"Mmhm, and my father."
"So you were coming anyway."
"Mmhm."
"Well, cool, I lied. Papa's not cooking."
"You did not. I already asked." Never let it be said that the boy had anything less than his father's cool sense of wry humor and the wherewithal to deploy it.
"Anyways, I got Papa to make me lunch today, so I don't have to wait in line." Tsuki hopped into his customary seat at their comfortable table and began to royally chow down.
There came a procession of guys up the walk between tables; a bunch of guys making horn noises. "All hail Prince Tsukishiro! His birthday causes the kingdom to rejoice!"
"He gets a big cookie from all of us!"
"He owes me five bucks!"
"Oh no!" Yoshi cried. "It's the Mob!"
Tsuki snickered. "I thought you were over that." In eighth grade Yoshi had been convinced that he had what it took to enter the mafia. The older boy grinned somewhat and began to eat his cup of Fluffy.
"I gotta cookie!" Tsuki reached eagerly for his chocolate-chip piece of heaven despite the fact that he heard people at several tables muttering "Freshmen..." "I'm glad you guys remembered!"
"You having a party?"
"If I were it would be today, wouldn't it?" Tsuki chewed happily as the factor of people at the table was increased exponentially. "And were you invited?"
"No"s were heard. Of course, Yoshi had to disrupt it by muttering "I was."
"Family thing this year," he explained. "My fathers are taking us somewheres this weekend." A couple people glanced aside in discomfort at the reminder of Tsukishiro's odd family relationships, but those that were friends with him were pretty much used to it already, and knew better than to think a second time of it. Tsuki slapped his nephew.
"Tsukishiro..." A feminine voice interrupted them. They were approached by a stunningly beautiful girl, a senior with a pleasantly oval face, glittering dark eyes, and hair in twin braids that gave her a younger appearance. She was wearing a dress today, so Tsuki supposed she was impressing some guy. She dropped a hand onto Yoshitsune's shoulder, and Tsuki watched as he went slightly cross-eyed from the sweetness of her perfume. Her red-painted nails scratched the top of his head affectionately for a moment before leaving him be.
"Marron!" Tsuki watched as several guys mouthed "Marron" right after him as though trying to memorize it. He would admit that his eldest niece was indeed a knockout, but being related to her, he "failed to see her appeal" end quote.
"I called Jii-chan earlier." Marron was a nice person to have around because she always carried her cell phone for ultimate convenience. Her parents were pretty loaded, and Tsuki was old enough to be impressed by them. His oldest sister, Ai, was a doctor, and her husband Shiro had changed professions not too many years ago to become an architect. "He wanted me to offer you and this little brat here a ride home," she indicated her cousin, "So you could pick up a gallon of milk and a bag of potatoes with the money he gave you earlier."
"Potatoes!" Tsuki cried, delighted, then cringed when the rest of the sentance dawned on him.
"And knowing you, he dropped off some money for you." Marron handed him an envelope with a smile. "So I'll meet you outside in the parking lot? You know where my car is?"
"No, but you have so many stalkers I'm sure we could find out."
"You don't mean we have to ask them?" Yoshi asked, regaining his wits somewhat.
"Nah, we'll just follow the trail of blood and broken school supplies to where they're all fighting over the honor of opening her car door for her." Tsuki shrugged. "Thank you, Marron-chan." He waved a hand. "You may go."
"Hey!" She was around the table in a flash and had him in a headlock. "Just because we're related doesn't mean I have to respect you!"
"C'mon Marron-chan, he's fifteen today."
She smiled, relaxing her hold into a hug. "I remember when fifteen was a big number for me too."
"Ouch."
"I started wearing makeup. You know now that you're fifteen you'll have to wear makeup. And we'll have to shave your head and start all over again, because this hairstyle simply won't do." She ruffled his hair and walked away.
"Her perfume makes me dizzy," Tsuki said, grinning.
"I know, right? She reminds me of cotton candy."
"But she smells like flowerdy stuff," the boy said, frowning.
"She makes me think of happy things like the carnival."
"I think you're just addicted to cotton candy." Yoshi nodded his acceptance of that assessment and pulled a bag of the afore-mentioned substance from his bookbag, and a pack of pop-tarts, his other love.
"Who was that?" One of the guys asked, watching Marron walk away. "She's playful. I like her."
"She's my niece. And she's not playful, she's a violent tomboy." He pulled the money from the envelope and had it promptly snatched away from him so that others could get high on Marron's perfume too. She didn't really put too much on as it was strong, but it was still disorienting. And besides, everyone was always paying attention to her, so it was noticed.
"Wow, think of the people she could kill if she overdosed on that stuff."
"I think she smells nice," Yoshi said quietly.
"Get a girlfriend."
About three more naps later, Tsuki was sitting on the trunk of Marron's car, her sixteenth birthday present from her parents and grandparents (which meant it was really nice,) swinging his legs and watching her flirt with some guy. To her credit, he was wrapped around her finger. Yoshi came racing up to where his uncle sat kicking his legs on the trunk of the car. He was panting, and it took a time or two for Tsukishiro to understand what he was saying.
"Tanaka... " Tsuki sped him past the name of their cousin, Bra's son, whom he had repeated several times. "This girl, he knew her... and he introduced us last week and she asked me out!"
Tsuki eyed his nephew with distaste. He had told the older boy "get a girlfriend." He was absolutely sickened that he had managed to do so since then. He mused that the boy, with his blond hair and dark eyes like his father, as well as a well-developed sense of humor and an eccentric streak a mile wide, could easily attract any girl he wished. Unlike you-know-who. Happy birthday to me. Aren't I supposed to get the girl?
"Who is it?"
"You seen that girl in my grade with the bright red hair, and the blue bookbag with all the cool keychains? She's in a couple of my classes. Her name's Kikyo." He smiled a bit as he thought of her. Tsuki remembered her, and following her one day trying to read some small print on her keychains. She had thought he was stalking her for a moment.
"Don't kick my bumper!" Marron scolded as she came to the car. She unlocked it and pulled the top down, letting the boys hop into the back seat. Tsuki noted that she must have scored her guy; she had changed back into jeans. She pulled a pair of sunglasses onto her face and looked over her shoulder. "Hey birthday boy! Wanna be my DJ?"
Tsuki grinned, climbing up and cranking up the radio. His niece smiled as he found a good station, and plopped her other pair of sunglasses onto his head. Tsuki liked his niece a lot. She wasn't really all that much older than he was, but she had always been the one he asked questions. Well, she was a girl and so he asked Yoshi first. The two were about the same intelligence level, and what Tsuki didn't know Yoshi usually didn't either. He remembered his Papa laughing, obviously remembering something about his own childhood with Father at the boys' association.
Tsuki had had the "talk" with his family, nearly his whole family, since they were looking for a female perspective on it and none of his sisters wanted to be the one to talk about it. He had ended up sitting in a booth in an ice-cream parlor between his Papa and his aunt, Bra, shoveling ice cream by the bucketload and trying to comprehend the mysteries of women. He realized that his parents had a very strange relationship. They didn't tell him too much about that. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure how he was conceived, but figured he would learn when he was in tenth grade and had biology class like Yoshi did now. But they didn't really learn about people, all they did was cut up dead frogs. Tsuki couldn't see cutting up a dead animal unless he was going to eat it. Which reminded him...
"You're unbelieveable!" Marron excaimed. "Your stomach is loud! Don't tell me you're hungry now!"
Tsukishiro nodded, pouting, as he tried to think whether he had anything edible in his bookbag.
"Well... let's stop and get some ice cream then!"
Tsukishiro absolutely loved ice cream.

Tsuki dropped his bookbag by the door, as did the other two. "Papa! We're home!" He hefted the milk and went into the kitchen. His Papa was peeling potatoes. "We brought you more potatoes," he said. Yoshi set the bag on the counter and climbed up onto one of the stools to watch the proceedings as the younger boy placed the jug in the fridge.
"Hey, birthday boy." He handed the knife and potato to the other boy and took his son by the shoulder, the two of them leaving the kitchen. "How'd it go at school today?"
"Okay, I guess." His Papa, well, both of his parents knew that school wasn't really one of his talents. He stood in the door to the bathroom as the older man washed his hands and asked about his classes. He knew that keeping him at a "B" level had required tremendous effort from both of his parents. Sometimes they got upset with him when he came home with bad test grades and then went to the lab and "revolutionized the industry", as Father jokingly put it. They knew he could do better than he had. Or maybe I can't. Maybe I don't do well in classroom settings.
As the older man spoke, he found himself watching him in the mirror. He admired his Papa, always had ever since he was little. Tsukishiro knew that he resembled his Papa more than Father... he always called Papa by informal names and his other father more formally. He remembered when he was little and did something bad, Father could be pretty scary when he was made angry enough.
He himself had the dark hair that his Papa's family all had. Their eyes were big, round, the size of their stomaches, as Father said. He got his quantity requirements from Papa and was more picky about food like his Father. People said he was the exact cookie-cutter image of his Papa. Then he looked up, and they realized he had bright blue eyes, and started to see more of the similarities to his father. He was generally happy and content with life, but his temper was oftentimes quick and irrational.
"Here." Papa handed him a present. "This one's just from me. It's not much."
Tsuki grinned and ripped into it, pulling out the new jacket he had been wanting for ages. "Cool! I didn't know you knew I wanted it! It's great, Papa! I'll take care of it, promise!" And of course he had to try it on.
"I'm glad you like it." His Papa had a big infectious smile. It was the one he wore then. "Maybe you shouldn't wear it to dinner, though." When he was hungry, which was often, he ate kinda sloppy. "Can't believe you're fifteen now."
Tsuki blinked up at him, shrugged, and grinned as he reached over to place his present onto a hook carefully. "When's Father coming home?"
"He's on his way," he was assured. But Papa looked away when he said it.
It wasn't like he was scared of Father. He was a little in awe of the man. He was the more volatile of the pair, but really not by that much. He was the more adult figure of the two, which was sometimes a drag, but he had moments where he was as irresponsible and adolescent as Papa. But as a toddler he had instinctively known who to go to for comfort.
Yoshi was being helped in the kitchen now by Marron. So that meant Yoshitsune was murdering his potatoes and Marron was singing along with the radio. Papa said when she was little she didn't make nearly so much noise as she did now. Tsuki couldn't believe it, personally.
"You get out of the kitchen!" Marron told him teasingly. "My cooking is iffy enough without the "Well-done Curse" hovering over my shoulder! You have a black thumb, kid!" She popped a deviled egg into his mouth as he opened it to protest.
"Okay, I'm going to the lab," he said, snagging a soda.
"Your father said if you got into the lab before him that you weren't to touch the machine on his workbench. He says it's unstable, and might hurt you." Papa brushed his messy hair from his face and gave him a warning glance. "If you come out with a bunch of burns again I'm gonna wear you out."
"Hai," he said, curious about which of Father's projects could have gone down a back alley like that. His father was the smartest man he'd ever met. Note; "man." O-baa-san was one of the most intelligent women he'd ever heard of, even though he didn't remember her that well. She hadn't made many more things in his lifetime, either. In fact, the last one he remembered Father talking of was the one she had completed right before she turned Capsule Corproration completely over to him to run.
He pressed the light panel upon entry, setting his soda down and wiping an orange line from over his lip. Over on his father's workbench lay an unassuming little tidbit; a boxy-looking machine, partially dissassembled. It was powered by a standard rechargeable test battery pack, because the operations light was glowing the proper color for it. The teen pulled a stool over to the bench, regarding the thing from multiple levels.
"Okay Tou-san, let's see whatcha've cooked up." He reached forward cautiously, noting that it was powered down. When he pressed the power-up button below the operations light, a little platform assembly raised itself from the top of the device.
"Cool! A cutting laser!" Tsuki leaned in closer just in time for the thing to try and take his head off. He ducked back with a slight yelp, reaching under the pinpoint beam to hit the button. He turned to the computer display beside him and pulled up the schematics. "Well, that doesn't look right. Wouldn't it do better with a different conductor type?" Intrigued now, he switched out the model relay conductors that sat on the bench beside it, noting that a different type or problem cooked itself up as he watched. "A challenge... well! Dirty little villain... mutant frog! I'll get you!"

When Tsuki finally left the lab (sporting a bandaged finger which he tried to hide from Papa) his father was already home. Father and Papa sat together in the living room, having what looked like a serious conversation. Tsuki paused for a moment, fighting a slightly sick feeling in his stomach, then pressed forward.
"Father!" Tsuki came in with the machine in his hands, proudly displaying the "systems green" light. "I fixed it!"
He frowned, blue eyes centering on his son. "Didn't your papa tell you not to touch that?" Goten received a glare.
"Uhm...." he glanced at his dusty tennis shoes, shuffling slightly and glancing up through his ragged bangs. "I couldn't help it. It was crying my name. Gomen nasai, Papa...."
Something was muttered about "your child," and Papa evidently chose to overlook it this time.
"But look what I did! This is awesome. Isn't it cool?" He set it in his father's lap and pointed out the additions he had made, having to crack the housing to do so.
A hand fell onto his shoulder, and his attempt to deflect it had apparantly failed. Tsuki bit his lip and looked up. Kind blue eyes met his, not angry as he had thought Father was while talking to Papa, and his father tucked a section of his bangs behind one ear as he looked at his son. "You're fifteen today. Tsukishiro, you have to learn to listen to your papa, and me. I know you're stubborn, and I know you're not afraid of something as simple as injury, and I know exactly where both those traits come from. I'm not upset, but next time do as we say. You never know what that thing could have done. You wouldn't be as adorable without a head." Father tugged at his hair and smiled. "Now what'd you do?"
Papa left for the kitchen, not looking at his purple-haired familiar. "Children all!"
Father very carefully ignored him. "What's this circuit here designed to do? It looks a little cumbersome."
Tsuki smiled and demonstrated his creation.
"O-nee-chan!" Two little voices came from the front hall as Ai and Shiro came in with their two younger children. The boys ran to their sister adoringly. They were both in about fourth grade, and worshipped Marron even more than the boys at school. Tsuki was just as happy with that; they tended to cling to him. Yoshi fled the kitchen for some room where he could find a TV. Tsukishiro's sister came and gave him the obligatory hug and kiss on the head.
"Happy birthday, Moon-head." It had been his nickname since he was a baby, from 'Tsuki' for 'moon.' Shiro echoed her sentiments and sat down across from his father-in-law to begin what was sure to become some long boring conversation full of big words and concepts he couldn't and didn't want to wrap his mind around, like 'revenue.' What the heck was that? That didn't sound fun. All Tsukishiro knew about revenue was that it gave his father headaches that he claimed aspirin couldn't solve. And occasionally Papa and Father got in fights about something that cost "too much money" by Papa's standards, and Father would tell him there was enough revenue from the company that they could buy anything, and Papa said it was the principle of the thing, and Tsukishiro knew it was time to leave the room.
Surprisingly, his brother-in-law smiled at him. It was kind of strange; Tsuki noticed that Shiro never treated him with that air of condescension that a lot of adults treated kids with. He had always been someone Tsuki had been able to talk to if he so wished. The man did give fairly sound advice. Sometimes Tsuki was reminded of his Papa when they spoke. But after all, he had been named after the guy. At least in part. Father had said the 'Tsuki' part actually did come from the moon, and it was a joke he had shared with Papa. Tsukishiro wasn't sure if he wanted to know, so he hadn't asked for once. Father said he asked too many questions anyway. 'Don't get me wrong, questions are good, but there's a limit-' Papa usually told him to shut up and let the boy ask his questions. And he rambled. Papa said if his son was like him, even his thoughts rambled. Hmm.
"So, how was your day today, kid?" Shiro called him 'kid', but everything about his manner, including the way his eyes never seemed to go through the boy but actually paid attention to him, never made him feel insulted.
"They gave me a big cookie at lunch."
"That's cool. When I turned fifteen your sister made me brownies. I love brownies." Tsuki was fully aware of this, since every time he went to their house, a brownie and milk with Shiro was mandatory. It was pretty cool. Shiro had to be a father to his kids, but he was pretty relaxed with them. Still, Tsuki was kind of glad he had his parents and not his brother-in-law and sister. They expected a lot for their leniency.
Father hugged him unexpectedly, and the boy caught the familiar whiff of his aftershave as purple hair blocked his vision momentarily. Tsuki had once heard his father tell his papa that he made it a point to hug his children, unlike some-father-they-both-knew. Of course this was followed by Not-that-he-was-a-bad-father, and But-I-think-they-need -more-affection. Tsuki was old enough to recognize his father's defensiveness where his own father was concerned. "Why don't you go play with Yoshitsune or something 'till dinner?"
"Maybe. He's watching TV. He might not play." He headed away as his father smiled encouragingly.
Tsuki peeked into the other room and indeed saw the blond-haired boy staring at the TV in fixed fascination, inky eyes barely daring to blink. So he wandered back into the kitchen where Papa was cooking with Marron, who actually spent half of her time chasing small children out from underfoot. The twins clung to both of them before their mother came back through and swept them away. Tsuki hopped onto a stool and watched everything with unblinking eyes.
"What's the matter?" Papa asked, holding up a shiny pot lid to block his vision. Tsuki's own bright blue eyes were reflected back at him before Papa's playful dark ones peeked around the edge. "You look a little blue, Blue."
He shrugged one shoulder. He went back to contemplating his darker father with unblinking eyes. "Papa, tell me about me."
"What?" One dark eyebrow cocked slightly as Marron glanced over her shoulder.
"Done over here, Jii-chan."
"Okay then. Go do your homework or something."
As Marron went out of the kitchen, Tsuki tried to think of a precise way to phrase his question. "Well... you and O-ba-chan gave me that talk a while back, and I wondered, if everything's ..." he waved a hand imprecisely, "how you say it is, how was I born? I mean, you know, unless you guys have some things you're not tellin' me...."
Papa chuffed him on the head gently with a closed fist. "Funny!" He laughed, as he did when thinking up a joke he intended to get back to Father later on. "Just 'cause your father cross-dresses on Fridays doesn't mean he's a woman!"
"Ahh...." Tsuki said, filing it away for Father's future shock value. "Well?" He thought. "I mean, how was it for you, 'n stuff like that." He didn't figure Papa would be as descriptive as Father, but he was better suited to things of the heart.
Papa looked a little troubled, and stirred a pot left-handed as he pulled open the oven door to look inside. "Well, I suppose you'll learn sooner or later, ne?"
"Yes," he said decisively. Tsuki always got answers to his questions. Eventually.
"Well, you can ask your father about all the lab stuff, but I can tell you about when you were still being carried.Your father was a real bitch when he was pregnant. Don't tell him I use that language around you. Oh, does he? Well...."

On to Part Two