My life, had never been smooth sailing. It all started when my parents died at a young age, I was only 7 then. I was placed under the care of one of our distant relatives. Distant would be an understatement, but she was all I had at that time.

  I had met her more than a few times, with my mother bringing me along whenever we visited her. She was stern, strict, and unyielding but fair, in her own way. She would often buy me treats when I got high marks on my exams. It would make my mother pout, but I am sure she didn’t mind.

  From what I could tell, they were friends who liked to argue with one another just for the sake of talking. But when I moved in with her, it felt like she was more distraught than I was. I would often see her looking at the sky, absentmindedly.

  But she cared for me like I was her own, and was raised together with her two children, Ichirou and Himiko. The two treated me like a little brother weirdly enough, even though I was older. Being with them was like having a little family of my own, and was probably one of the only good memories of my childhood.

  However, even they could not stop the rampant teasing, isolation, and subtle discrimination I endured. Being called, “poor thing” in a pitying and condescending way, or being asked “why don’t you have parents?” or “What’s wrong with your family?” Worse still, being excluded from social groups or events that involved families.

  I hated it.

  I hated going to school.

  I hated their whispers behind my back like I couldn’t hear them.

  I hated their feigned attempts at friendship.

  I hated their hypocrisy.

  Over time I grew to hate that country.

  I often went home early, not bothering to join any clubs. When not playing with the other two, I poured the time I had into studying, and reached the top of my class and stayed consistent in that position until I graduated high school. All with the goal of leaving all of it behind.

  In the end, I could not burden their family any more than I already had. The moment I could earn money, I saved up the precious little I could, and by the time I was old enough that I could have a job of my own, I bade them farewell.

  My new family was saddened to see me go, but the old lady allowed it, on one condition. It appeared she knew about my plans, and her condition was that, no matter where I was or where I would end up, I would let her know, one way or another.

  College flashed by in a blink. I earned my degree while being consistent as one of the top students. I worked for a while, but a year later, I managed to get a job outside of the country. When I told the old lady that, for the first time in decades, I managed to cry.

  It felt like a farewell meant to last forever. In the time I had with her, she was my mother — and yet, somehow, not. Although I kept in touch, weeks, became months, and months into years.

  In that time, I never thought that I would fall in love and find a loving wife. Even more so, two sons who were smart, smarter than me. For the longest time, it felt like my life kept lifting me higher, as if nothing could go wrong.

  That is of course, right up until the moment they grew up, especially my eldest. They would fight with each other true, but that is rare compared to the trouble my eldest always finds himself in.

  Falling out of a tree, falling out of a water buffalo’s back, crashing a homemade electric bike into a banana tree, falling of a goat, falling into a water buffalo’s swimming hole, getting chased by geese, crashing the homemade electric bike on the road, falling out of a tree and into a river, making slingshots, getting into fights in school, nearly drowning in a river, making crossbows.

  On and on, the list of things my wife kept telling grew every year. His grades are high, sure, but I cannot for the love of me, figure out if he is smart or stupid. He managed to mellow out a bit after I got him a computer, but that also created another problem of him being addicted to games.

  Even with that, I know he was still smart. The problem was it was always whenever he wanted to be. So, when he straight up, marched in front of two people who had more power than possibly the entire country where we were living at, it made my blood run cold.

  In that moment I thought he had gone insane. My wife and I rushed to restrain him, make him apologize if necessary. But the words that came out of his mouth not only startled me, but shook me to my core. I had left my original country so I could escape the memories.

  I was skeptical at first, the entire event, possibly a trick by scammers, and they would claim to be one of my long-distant relatives. There was also a small chance, but maybe it was the one who took care of me. It had been more than 12 years after all. Though, I had not forgotten to update her on my life on purpose.

  I was merely distracted, my focus split on my job and my eldest who might make another death machine, or get into another life-threatening accident.

  “They know your father.”

  It turns out, I could not easily leave my past behind.

  “So, you really know these two gentlemen?” I asked as politely as I could. Though, I tried to hide the fear in my voice.

  “Where do you think I got Snooky and Dooky from?” he replied while pointing at Diocletian.

  “Vi, did you really name them that?” he said, looking and sounding amused.

  “What? Am I supposed to name them Frodo and Samwise?” my son replied while shrugging. “I named them Rogal and Dorn, but they also respond to Snooky and Dooky.”

  He turned back to me after a few moments.

  “They know your father” he repeated when I didn’t react. He even said it in the same voice like the villain from Star Wars.

  “Yes, I get that!” I said, slapping his head angrily.

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  He just laughed it off like it was nothing. I turned to face the two men on the table. Both looked at each other and then back to me, their eyes softened. Diocletian raised his hands, calling the attention of someone from the back, however, it was Konrad who spoke first.

  “Calm, please, sit,” he said, his voice grandfather-like, more tender than how he was when he was speaking earlier. He gestured for me and my wife to sit down, reluctantly we obliged.

  “What Vi said is true,” he continued after we had sat down. “Please, forgive us for not explaining to you in detail.”

  “We were going to do that, at a more appropriate time and place. But this one just had to ruin it,” Diocletian said and gestured at my son.

  His tone was stern, but it sounded like there was no true hate or anger there. It sounded like, well, an uncle, lecturing his nephew. I remembered what he said the other night, about him being friends with Remington. I suppose the fact that I hadn’t noticed the small connection there was on me.

  “Oh please. You had all the chances when you invited us here,” my son argued petulantly.

  “And you, didn’t?” countered Konrad, with a raised eyebrow. “As Dio said, we were going to do that, at a more appropriate time and place. But you yourself, left them in the dark.”

  True. What in the hells had this boy of mine been thinking. His mother and I were nearly at our wits’ end just trying to figure out if this event was legitimate or not! Now, apparently, he knew all along!? I waited for him to answer.

  “Oh, well, father’s face was hilarious when they were having a video call so I didn’t bother—GAH!”

  That earned him a punch to the head. The fact that he is taller than me still gets me irritated sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t punch hard. Fortunately, the two gentlemen looked amused at our display instead of being offended.

  In that moment, Remington came over and set down four bottles of wine along with some glasses in front of us. With practiced ease, he uncorked one and poured the first glass.

  “Oh, hey look Remy,” my son said eagerly, while gesturing at each one of us at the table. “A German, an English and a Japanese. There’s a joke in here somewhere.”

  “Yes, that would be you,” Diocletian said instantly. That made everyone else at the table snicker while my son feigned outrage, clutching at his chest while giving the older gentleman a scowl.

  At least he knows how to entertain people.

  After Remington had left, Konrad brought out a rather thick wallet. He opened one of the many flaps and took out an old photograph, one that was starting to become yellow with age. He slid it onto the table, right in front of me. I accepted it with care, studying the picture as he took a slow sip from his glass.

  On it were a group of ten people outside a beautiful garden, all were smiling and laughing. I spotted the two immediately, however, my eyes ghosted over the person I knew. She was younger here and was embracing two other people.

  One was a bride and the other a groom.

  In that moment I understood.

  I never had any pictures of my parents; I couldn’t even remember their faces. I didn’t think I needed pictures then. Mostly because we never had the chance to take one and we didn’t have a camera back then.

  My wife held my hand under the table and I felt my eyes getting misty. I shifted my glasses and rubbed at them. When I looked up, both men were smiling, not judgmental but the faces of the men who once called my father, friend.

  “Welcome home, Kazehiko,” Diocletian said, raising his glass to me.

  In truth, this country never felt like home to me. Not once had I visited since I went abroad. But there was something in the way he said it, that I was sure he was not referring to this place. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  After a few seconds my son leaned over and looked at the picture in my hands.

  “Huh, well, what do you know, Nana-baa looked young there,” my son said, his brows furrowed in disbelief, and pointing to the woman who had raised me.

  “You, know her!?” I snapped, feeling my anger build up again. Just how much does this little shit know that I don’t!?

  “Oh, you mean old woman standing behind me?” he said jabbing his thumb at his back without looking. He leaned in close and whispered. “She looks like she’s going to murder everyone here with her cane—GAH!”

  A hand, though old, was strong enough to grab onto his hair and pulled it back with force. When I turned, I saw the stern face of the woman that raised me for over a decade. She had gotten old, true, but it didn’t seem like she was diminished in every sense of the term.

  “Move over,” she commanded.

  “All right, moving over,” my son said languidly. To my surprise, he stood up, gave the woman his chair, and even poured her a glass of wine. Once she had sat down, she turned to face me.

  “Now then, let me take a good look at you,” she said, her face stern, but also loving. I felt myself shrink a bit at her gaze.

  “Sorry, I uh, couldn’t, contact you in the past years,” I half mumbled. I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my lips. “I had trouble with, work.”

  “Oh, I know. He told me,” she replied and tilted her head toward my firstborn who had just added another chair and sat down. “And I also know that you’re more concerned with keeping him out of trouble. Which is good.”

  “What did I do?” my son again asked, this time with mock outrage.

  I grumbled and growled beneath my breath. So, this little shit was in contact with people that knew me, and never once thought of informing me.

  “Father, that sounded serious, have you tried acupuncture?” he joked.

  “So, when were you going to tell me that you were in contact with—everyone!?” I asked, my hand hitting the table in anger, and causing the wine inside the cups and bottles to shake.

  “I refuse to answer that on the grounds, that I don’t want to—and I might get hit,” was the nonchalant answer I got.

  To my surprise, instead of getting offended or angry, everyone at the table were laughing, even enjoying themselves.

  “This—this one, feels familiar don’t you think friends?” Konrad said jovially. I didn’t understand what he meant so I turned to the one person who could give me an explanation.

  She sighed happily, an action that made her drop the visage of strictness she usually had.

  “You were too young back then, so I suppose you wouldn’t remember,” she began. She took a sip of wine before she continued. “Despite how you look now, I can confidently say that you look like your father.”

  “However, your son, looks like your mother,” Diocletian said with a smile. “The problem is, he acts like your father.”

  “But you, have your mother’s disposition,” Konrad added before letting out a boom of a laugh. “And they would argue like that, over and over like there was no tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew there was some sense to it. These were the people who knew them best, better than I had. But the fact that I am compared to my son in this regard was rather irritating.

  A few moments later, the question came flooding. Questions about my life, what I had been doing, what are my plans, how had I been faring. All questions that, from what I could tell, the three of them had been dying to ask.

  Then came the questions about my love life and my wife. Anna did her best to answer and supplement when she could. One of the things I like about her is that she can be a good conversational partner. A trait my first born inherited, but he just sat there, listening.

  Which I found weird. Considering that the moment he starts yapping about something, he just goes on and on until the person he’s talking to forgets what they were originally talking about. He had done it to me more than a few times.

  Eventually, the conversation turned to our children, beginning with the youngest. I suspected this was because they already knew more about my eldest, on account that he was in contact with them. I also have a feeling that they know more about him than I do.

  “How did you even meet?” I asked him, after the topic had wound down.

  “Oh, Nana-baa and uncle Dio visited once,” he replied without any hint of enthusiasm. “They were hoping to catch you, but you already left.”

  The answer I got was that, they managed to catch my son when he was coming back from school. I take it he was smart enough to recognize dangerous people when he sees them. But the fact, that he trusted them was suspicious. Was he bribed with candy or money?

  “Oh, by the way, Vi. Remington said that you are about to graduate,” Konrad said suddenly. “Have you thought about where you will next? If you want, take the IELTS exam, and I can find you a place abroad.”

  That, is a very generous offer. Even for my son. But I suppose, considering their history together, they are showing how they care for him, in their own way.

  “My IELTS? You want me to take a test—to know my intravaginal ejaculation latency time? Father, I did it! I’m gonna be a porn star!”