The Hatanaka family had seen better days. Over the past month, Julius had lost all his friends, been confined to bed, and become the subject of conspiracy theories nationwide. Maria and Tokugawa had been arguing almost non-stop for two weeks, torn between the urgency of their sudden trip to Japan and the ethical dilemma surrounding what to do about Julius’ future. Since his father’s recent reprimand, Julius had begun regaining his strength. With it, he uncovered the real reason behind his parents’ ongoing dispute—his fate.
On graduation day, his father’s worry for Julius had reached a breaking point. Fed up with his son’s brooding, he confronted Maria, insisting they needed to act before Julius’ troubles followed him to NYU. Maria responded with a shocking revelation: Julius had been considering taking a gap year. This admission ignited a fierce argument. To his father, Julius’ decision sounded like he was about to throw his future away, slipping toward the life of a “hikikomori.” Determined to intervene, his father decided that if Julius wasn’t going to make a choice, then he would make it for him. Maria was appalled. For the first time, her usually mild, agreeable husband stood his ground, declaring that he’d send their son halfway across the world to attend his alma mater in Japan.
Tokugawa had committed several sins with that declaration. First, he was blatantly disregarding her child’s feelings. Second, he was threatening to send her son halfway across the world—away from her. And finally, the school he had in mind was, in her words, “far too dangerous for her sweet little baby.” On all accounts, Julius agreed with his mother. However, the argument seemed to have outgrown any real connection to him; it had become a battle of principles, and he was merely collateral.
Julius instinctively sided with his mother, who he saw as the “status quo” candidate, fighting to preserve his current life. But over the weeks, perhaps as a result of a Stockholm Syndrome-like effect, his father’s perspective started to hold a certain allure. The thought of taking a trip to Japan was a win for him. He gets to see his family, experience Kyoto for the first time, and explore his father’s old school. According to Tokugawa, this particular university encouraged students in its “special program” to pursue a secular degree alongside a four-year cooperative learning experience tailored to their concentration—whatever that meant. To the indecisive Julius, it sounded like a chance to pursue his love for film, or any other field he fancied, while somehow avenging his friends in whatever cryptic way his father and his father’s friends had hinted at.
Regardless, Julius was going to Yokohama, he was going to see his grandparents, and his parents were gonna be bitter to each other the entire time.
“Did you make sure to pack the cookies?” Maria asked in a tone dripping with resentment as Tokugawa returned from the baggage check.
“Yes, my heart…” he replied, with a strained politeness.
“I don’t like that tone,” she said, already striding toward the pre-checked security line.
He sighed and followed her, speaking more carefully. “I’m sorry, my heart. It’s just… the right moment to ask if I’d packed the cookies for my father might have been before I checked the luggage. Preferably before we even got to the airport.”
“Maybe I would have asked sooner if my mind wasn’t in a frenzy because I had no help.”
“You know the editors were waiting for that last song. Writing a poem in three completely different languages is no simple feat, and I needed it to be perfect since I’ll be on hiatus for this trip.”
Maria turned and fixed him with a sharp look. “And whose choice was that?”
“Maybe you could’ve asked the boy for some help instead of your husband, who’s trying to work to keep up with the bills,” Tokugawa replied, his patience fraying.
Maria let out a short, incredulous laugh. “The bills? We’re more than comfortable enough to buy a new house, double our monthly expenses, and still live well off my pension and savings alone. That little ‘story’ of yours is just your passion project, and you know it. I’m not about to drag my heartbroken son into helping me while his able-bodied father sits at the kitchen table like a lump, eating cookies and scribbling in his notebook.”
Tokugawa rolled his eyes.
“‘Little story’ is quite the minimization as I have already been stopped four times to take photos.”
While his parents’ argument escalated, Julius lingered silently in the background, his gaze occasionally drifting to his phone. He wasn’t just checking out of habit; he was hoping—praying, even—to see a new message to distract him from his parents. But his phone had remained eerily silent since the incident. Normally, he and Joan would be flooding each other’s phones with goofy videos featuring their animal obsession of the month, whether it was platypuses, raccoons, bunnies, or any creature they found endearing. They’d also share clips of “quirky denizens,” as Joan liked to put it gently, living their lives in ways that seemed to demand a little less access to the internet.
The group chat with all his friends had gone quiet, too, like a shared space that had simply shut down. It was a haunting reminder of everything he’d lost. Thankfully, the internet moved fast; his social feeds, which had once been overloaded with posts about him and the tragedy, had drastically decreased in its coverage of the Sleepy Hollow Massacre. Allowing him to briefly return to his doom scrolling of memes and video game clips.
Aside from a few snappy remarks, the family stayed mostly silent through the entire security check. Once they were through, Tokugawa broke the silence.
“Are you guys hungry? Our terminal has a White Castle. How about some White Castle?”
Both Maria and Julius nodded quietly, which brought a small smile to Tokugawa’s face.
“Alright, why don’t you two get comfortable at the gate, and I’ll go grab us a clutch of burgers.” He handed his carry-on to Julius, then strode off toward the White Castle.
As they settled down, Maria turned to Julius with a soft expression. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this bickering the past couple of weeks, especially with everything else you’re dealing with.”
“It’s okay, Ma,” Julius murmured.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through… You’re so young. I always fought to ensure a future where nothing like this could touch you. I thought I’d have control over what you faced, but that’s only possible to a point.”
There was a beat of silence, filled only by the low chatter of the airport.
“But don’t worry,” Maria said, her tone softening. “Your father and I aren’t getting divorced. We still love each other; we’re just… a bit pissed at each other.”
Julius glanced at her.“I didn’t think you guys were getting divorced.”
“Good, because we’re not,” Maria replied firmly, plopping herself into a chair.
A few minutes later, Tokugawa returned, balancing an impressive haul. He had a small cardboard clutch, stuffed with twenty cheese sliders, along with three large drinks, multiple bags of fries, clam strips, and onion rings. Now, for those who have not experienced White Castle, this spread might sound excessive. For those who have, it still seemed like a lot—but it was understandable. But for anyone who knew White Castle and knew the Hatanaka, this amount might actually have been… not enough. And it wasn’t.
The family were absolute gavones. They could never seem to get enough food. For a man the size of Tokugawa, a hearty appetite was expected. But Maria and Julius, with their smaller frames, were a mystery. Both had what seemed like boundless metabolisms—a gift in the eyes of many, but a curse for them, since groceries were expensive, and they were always a bit peckish.
With the feast spread out before them, the mood of the family lightened. Maria rested her head on Tokugawa’s shoulder, her earlier tension momentarily forgotten. Julius, for the first time in a while, let out a genuine laugh, referencing the silly antics from him and his mother’s favorite show. He joked about how terrible some upcoming movies are, with his father.
For a brief moment, the weight of the past weeks seemed to lift. Laughter filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, the family felt like a family again—bickering aside. The comfort of food, familiar jokes, and shared memories was enough to make the chaos of the past seem a little more distant.
But once they boarded, the brief joy Julius had felt vanished. For the next fourteen hours, he was left with nothing but his own thoughts. Of course, there was in-flight entertainment, and he could talk to his parents, but fourteen hours was a long time to spend in the air. He couldn’t talk non-stop, and despite his love for movies, he was very particular about when, where, and how he watched them. An airplane simply wasn’t one of those settings.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
So, he closed his eyes, leaned his head against the seat, plugged in his headphones, and tried to drift off to sleep. The quicker he fell asleep, the less time he would have to spend with his racing thoughts. The problem was, a racing mind is hard to quiet enough to fall asleep. His mind was a chaotic swirl of memories, worries, and questions that refused to stay still, each thought chasing the other in a relentless loop. But eventually, with the help of Dramamine, he managed to dull the noise, and sleep finally claimed him.
Despite waking up intermittently for meals and snacks, he managed to medicate his way through the entire flight. Even luckier, he managed to do the same during the drive from Tokyo to Yokohama. This wasn’t exactly a healthy approach, especially considering how short the drive was and how many pills he had to take just to keep it together. But like a child during a long road trip, his mother gently shook him awake when they finally arrived outside his grandparents’ house.
His grandparents lived in a modest, unassuming house at the heart of Yokohama’s Chinatown, a vibrant and bustling area filled with colorful markets and the enticing aroma of street food. The narrow, winding streets had a distinctly urban Chinese feel, standing out from the rest of the city. Buildings were adorned with bold red signs, and clusters of red lanterns left over from a festival a couple months back hung overhead, casting a warm glow that would come alive in the evenings. The air was filled with the lively sounds of merchants hawking their goods, their voices mixing with the distant hum of city life.
Directly across from their home was a junior high school, and during the day, the cheerful chatter of students drifted into the streets, bringing an added sense of liveliness to the neighborhood. The whole area felt like a world of its own—vibrant and somewhat chaotic.
Waiting eagerly at the door were Julius’s grandparents, Sofu Akira and Soba Mokoto. Both in their late sixties and recently retired, they had a spry energy that was evident in their every movement, a lively spark that only seemed to grow stronger with age. Thanks to their very caring and successful son, they had spent the past few months traveling the world, hopping from one tropical island to another and indulging in a well-earned retirement.
Their latest adventure had taken them to Hawaii, and it showed on their sun-kissed skin and the cheerful Hawaiian shirts they wore, adorned with bright flowers and palm trees. The easygoing smiles on their faces made it clear that they’d returned with a refreshed zest for life, which was noticeably dwindling over the past few years. Now, they practically bounced on their feet, with warm expressions on their faces and outstretched arms ready to welcome grandon home.
“I missed you so much, Mago,” Mokoto said to her grandson in Japanese, pulling him into a warm, tight hug. “Why don’t you just move here with us? I don’t get to see you enough.”
Julius smiled, and was about to respond when his grandfather chimed in with a playful laugh. “He might,” Akira teased, placing a colorful lei he’d brought back from Hawaii around Julius’s neck.
“Your soba might just keep you here for good if you’re not careful. But I also heard you might be taking after your old man. A win regardless for the geysers in the family ” he added with a wink, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Mokoto.
“I don’t know where you heard that, Dad,” Maria replied in Japanese , leaning in to give each of her in-laws a kiss on the cheek. Unlike Julius and Tokugawa, she didn’t have to stretch—Akira and Mokoto were both reachable five-foot-two, and she took a moment to marvel at the juxtaposition between Tokugawa and his parents, not for the first time.
It would have been easy to doubt Tokugawa’s lineage if he did not bear an uncanny resemblance to his father. He had Akira’s face almost to a T, from the strong brow to the sharp cheekbones. And then there was the footage of his birth, so no one could ever question his connection to Mokoto, either. The familial link was undeniable, especially in their eyes, which he and Mokoto shared—a deep, expressive shade that was reminiscent of a tiger's eye.
“I heard there was a little tension,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Just remember, no matter what Mago decides, we’re more than happy to keep him here forever.”
He chuckled as he reached out to take one of the bags Maria was carrying. “Now, come in,” he continued, gesturing warmly toward the door. “Soba Mokoto made dinner.”
The family stepped inside Tokugawa’s childhood home, a cozy, lovingly decorated space that was anything but minimalist. The walls were adorned with artwork and traditional Japanese decor. Dotting the house were hand-carved masks, crafted meticulously by Akira. Photos lined the walls: childhood snapshots of Tokugawa and his siblings, baby photos of Julius and his cousins, warm family portraits, and wedding photos spanning three generations of the Hatanaka family.
The air was thick with the warm, inviting scent of pizza, a somewhat unconventional yet familiar aroma in this home. Almost every time the Hatanakas visited her in-laws, Akira and Mokoto would prepare Italian dishes—or at least, their interpretation of Italian dishes. It was a gesture of thoughtfulness, a way to make Maria feel more at home. She had always appreciated the sentiment, though it amused her just as much. After all, the last thing she craved while visiting a master Japanese chef’s home was food she could easily make herself back in the States. Still, Maria had come to accept, if not entirely understand.
The pizza was a deep dish—overloaded with cheese and toppings, which looked tempting at first glance but still left both Julius and his mother in a state of shock. The sight of it felt like an affront to everything they knew about pizza, but it was hard to deny the hunger that tugged at them. Together, the family sat around the dining table, Tokugawa looming over them like usual, his towering figure casting a shadow over the scene. They shared a brief prayer before digging into the meal.
Despite the audacity of a deep dish pizza, it was undeniably delicious, as was everything Mokoto cooked, even if it felt like a culinary crime against humanity. The five of them ate heartily, digging in with abandon.
“So, how was graduation, Mago?” Akira asked.
Before Julius could respond, he was promptly slapped by his wife. “You old fool.”
“Oh, that’s right…” Akira muttered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
Julius, who had been staring down at his food, fell silent. “It’s okay, Soba. It’s sort of hard for me to wrap my head around as well.”
“Are you okay, Mago?” Mokoto asked, her voice gentle.
Julius looked up, giving a small, tired smile. “As okay as I can be, but… I’m getting better. This trip definitely is helping.”
Tokugawa shot a knowing smirk at Maria, who rolled her eyes in response.
“Well, you’re going to love Kyoto,” Mokoto said. “It’s a very beautiful city—it’s actually where I grew up.”
“Really?” Julius replied, feigning surprise, as if he had not heard her mention it before.
“Yes,” she said with a smile, “Not only that, but your Soba was the talk of the town. All the boys wanted me… but only this charmer won my heart.” She playfully rubbed Akira’s shoulders as she spoke.
Akira, meanwhile, was completely oblivious to romance, lost in his own world as he stuffed his face with more of Mokoto’s cooking.
“Oh, and while you’re there,” Mokoto continued, “make sure to say thank you to Mark for stopping by and bringing your father’s favorite cookies.”
Of course he did that, knowing we were coming, Maria thought.
“Will do, Ma. We were planning on seeing him anyway while we toured the university,” Maria replied. “Though I’m a bit disappointed he brought you guys the cookies. We made sure to bring some, too.”
“Don’t worry,” Akira said between bites, his voice muffled, “We can never have too many sweets!”
Julius finished chewing his bite, then looked over at his mother. “Who’s Mark?” he asked.
Maria took a slow, deliberate breath.
“He’s a good friend of mine… and the biggest pain in the ass I know,” she said with an exasperated smile.
“Why haven’t I heard of him?”.
“You definitely have, if not from us, then from others.”
“Really? How?”
“Because he’s the hero Phoenix.”
Julius’s eyes widened in surprise. “You guys know Phoenix?” His voice edged with excitement. “And I’ll meet him on Monday?”
“Yes and yes,” Maria said, chuckling under her breath.
Doctor Mark Holmes, better known by his legendary alias Phoenix, was one of the most iconic figures of the modern era, hailed by the world as the Hero of Heroes. Beyond his superhuman feats, he was a billionaire playboy and an unrivaled medical philanthropist, respected not only for his strength but also for his deep commitment to global health and humanitarian causes. Phoenix was not just renowned for his own accomplishments; he was the son of the renowned astrophysicist, Dr. Thomas Holmes, who was celebrated both for his groundbreaking public outreach in promoting scientific progress and moonlighting as an international agent of peace (like father like son). The Holmes family had built a legacy that spanned generations, but it gained new prominence when Thomas’s mother, Elizabeth Holmes, successfully transformed Holmes Corp into an influential powerhouse, providing the lineage with the extensive resources and wealth that would support their innate urges on a global scale.
Even in his youth, Phoenix had made a name for himself, amongst those who were privy, by performing jaw-dropping feats: he had led the largest prison break in modern history, liberated political prisoners from tyrants, and moonlighted as a gentleman thief, and supposedly went back in time to assassinate the president. It was only a wild conspiracy theory, but sort of became a joke on the internet similar to the government putting chemicals in the water to turn frogs gay. But one of his most daring exploits was single-handedly infiltrating and dismantling the primary base of The Synoikism. Known for his ability to always get back up earning him the title Phoenix, he was regarded as one of the strongest men alive—possibly the strongest man to have ever lived..
Perhaps his most famous feat took place in 2026, at the Battle of Manhattan. There, he went head-to-head with the Horseman of Conquest, who had brought the world to its knees in a span of twelve hours. Though he sustained life-threatening injuries during this monumental clash, he emerged victorious. That battle, however, had marked a turning point in his life. After years of pushing himself beyond human limits, facing off against the most dangerous beings on the planet, and enduring a lifetime of physical and emotional wear, he finally chose to step back from the hero’s path.
Now, to the shock and admiration of many, Mark Holmes had settled in Kyoto, dedicating himself to a quieter role as the medical practitioner at Kyoto University.