As a treat for getting scouted, Macy began a celebratory dinner. At the same time, father and son sat in the living room and conversed on a couch.

"Never thought my simpleton son would attend college," Gavin chuckled, ruffing up Vin's hair. Because the man's hand was so large, it was less of a ruffle and more of an assault. Vin's head bobbed violently like a shelf figurine.

"Like you're any better," retorted Vin. Gavin laughed, then released him. "Truth! Like father like son, they say."

The man smiled widely, then stared onward toward the playing TV. It was silent for a moment, then he massaged the back of his neck and quietly chuckled.

His elation slowly dimmed, and he leaned forward on the couch. "Well," he said, sealing his hands together. "Hopefully, you don't resent me for pushing you so hard."

"I just... Really wanted to see you here, following your old man to the big league. Sorry."

Vin sighed, then pitched himself back into the simple couch.

In the past, his father was atop the league. He obsessed with skating and forced his offspring to follow in his footsteps. Pulling them from school to attend games and teaching them how to skate from the time they learned to walk.

Things only became worse when Vin displayed a talent for the sport. His training intensified, and he was signed up for events without say or notice.

Vin understood what his dad referred to when he apologized but chose to play ignorant. As a child, he thought it was irritating and despised his father. But, he came to love the sport on his own.

"Don't know what you're talking about, but you're ruining the vibe," stated Vin, standing from the chair. "I'm going to help Macy in the kitchen."

"R-right, thanks," stuttered the father, forcing a smile but nervously shaking his leg. He reacted similarly whenever the conversation of fatherhood was brought up. Gavin was flawed like any human; he didn't raise kids but athletes. Vin and Macy mainly had forgiven him for mentoring their childhoods, but he hadn't forgiven himself.

The kitchen was one chamber over from the living room. Made of white marble and black granite, spacious and equipped with the latest cooking innovations. It was every housewife's dream set up.

Macy was at the far wall standing in front of a countertop and cutting veggies. A series of windows illuminated the area well, so they kept the lights off to save on the bill.

Vin entered without a word, then took place next to her while Miyo flew onto its usual spot on the fridge. As Macy cut, Vin began peeling the onion that seemed to be next on her checklist.

Macy halted, tilted her head toward him, and swiftly kicked his ankle. "What are you doing," she chastised, exhibiting the signature Dance family glare.

He staggered, dropped the onion on the counter, and then elbowed his sister in the rib. "I'm helping," he declared.

"Oh, yea?" Macy set down the cutting knife and subtly sidestepped behind Vin. "It's not a congratulatory dinner if you cook it yourself."

He begged the differ and insisted on helping but was soon kicked in the back of his left knee. Struck at his joint, Vin jerked forward, crumbling down to the height of the counter. He tried to stand, but Macy booted his right leg similarly, and he collapsed onto both knees.

Kneeled, his face was leveled with the onions on the counter. His eyes dampened, and he made a second attempt to withdraw, but Macy's tone, left leg suddenly wrapped around his neck. "Sit there; I'll be done soon," she said.

While Vin was plastered onto his knees, faced with the onions, she leaned forward on his shoulder and continued to work over him. He endeavored to escape, but she only enhanced her lock, springing on his shoulder like an adult giving a reluctant ride to a toddler.

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"I can't breath," griped Vin, clamping his sweaty palms onto her solid thighs as they confined his throat. Upon his notice, she loosened her grip a decimeter but reprimanded him. "I've held you in this lock so many times; you still can't escape?"

The six regional karate championship trophies sitting on a wall some odd feet away should have answered that question.

Macy was nourished from a young age, just like Vin. She didn't have a talent or interest in skating but was forced into it despite her wishes. Up until when their father pushed her too far, and she punched him in the privates so hard he was sent to the hospital. They never did have any more siblings after that.

Anyhow, she was hauled away from skating and thrown into a karate class. It didn't take long before she began taking out her frustrations on other kids her age. Even pummeling Vin and other older boys.

Needless to say, Vin wasn't going anywhere. He was snared until she needed to relocate to the oven, then he was released to deal with his neck's fresh, massive jam.

Macy continued her work, proceeding just a bit faster than before. "I won't be long; now, shoo. At least let me treat you once more before you go off to college."

"Sure," groaned Vin, who was rotating their head to work out the knots. "You got it."

Part of his desire to help came from the fact that he'd lost the earlier race. He was pleased to be recruited, but it felt like an empty victory. On the other hand, he just wanted to share a moment with his sister, but that vibe was taken round back and shot too.

Conflicted, he took a premature seat at the dinner table and laminated on the race. Miyo joined him and passed the time until the food was finished.

Ten or so minutes later, Gavin and Macy joined Vin at the table. They loaded their plates, then prayed together before partaking in the meal. Their father was always the first to dig in, fixated on maintaining his condition.

Since Gavin never really savored the dish, his feedback was nonessential. Instead, Vin usually felt the watchful gaze of his younger sister the instant he picked up the utensil.

Hot layered lasagne with meatballs, diced onion, celery, and a side glass of milk. It was always Vin's favorite dish as a child. The other two family members tolerated it but were never fans of red sauce.

Vin cut a large piece, then took an oversized bite before initiating the longest chew time in the history of munches.

Macy eyed him, seeking validation from his reaction. "How is it?" She asked, unknowingly unequipping her scowling expression and portraying her nervousness.

As Vin's packed jaws munched with the force of a jackhammer, he blinked and muffled unidentifiable words of elation. Macy seemed to understand and sat back with a quiet smile.

She passively sought it, so Vin had often praised her for making attractive foods. Though unfortunately, he'd lost his sense of taste years ago.

It was the memories of their childhood that were tasty. All the times when Macy and their mother worked together to prepare that dish just for him. It never lost flavor. That alone made him want to encourage her to continue doing it; after all, it made her smile.

Soft piano tunes played in the background as they conversed and spoke about the novel university Vin would soon attend. Their meal was actually cut short because all of their curiosities were piqued.

Everyone huddled around Vin, and he made the call to accept the invitation. To their surprise, the opening ceremony was due to start only two days from then.

<>

Night arose, and Vin retreated to his bed. Plain and uncomfortable, it sat high and always bore white sheets and pillows. Before sleep, he spoke to Miyo about their future.

Conversing with the summon before bed became common because Vin had stopped having nightmares and dreams after they met. He considered the precious creature a good luck charm and also family.

Because of his affection for the critter, he remained irked after the recruiter had insulted its usefulness.

Half submerged in a cold, encroaching slumber, Vin's breathing slowed, and his eyes sealed. "Hey…" he breathed, resting his left hand on Miyo, who slept on his right wrist.

"Forget what others say," he yawned.

"You're perfect how you are, Miyo…."

Since Vin acquired them, they'd faced many different abilities. Many racers sought it necessary to express the superiority of their summons and insult Miyo for their size and lack of power. He expected it to only worsen in a university loaded with qualified individuals.

The dark Ai sprite couldn't speak. But it slowly evolved in the years he raised it. Turning from an empty shell to a living thing. It always seemed to understand Vin. Not just commands while racing, but on a more fundamental level.

Miyo listened, then rubbed their flaming rubbery face into his wrist. Winks later, they both powered down and recharged for the upcoming day.