"One-two! Jab! Jab—!"
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Oi! Tee! Where're you hiding?"
A tall, broad–shouldered guy with sun-browned skin and sweat dripping down his body stomped straight into the house—the one that doubled as a boxing gym—yelling at the top of his lungs like the loud, blunt man he'd always been.
"What? Why're you yelling? I'm washing dishes!"
A whining voice shot back from the kitchen. The big man poked his head in, only to find someone completely absorbed by the food sizzling on the stove—aroma so good he couldn't help but sneak a serving from a finished plate.
The fair-skinned boy spun around instantly, glaring and pointing an accusing finger at the stolen dish.
"At least bring drinks for the guys. And cook something for Dad's friends too."
The bulky man—clearly past his youth—stood beside the tiny figure: pale as fresh cotton, small and slim, barely reaching his father's shoulder. He stirred the pan with a grumpy look plastered on his sweet face.
"Again?? Dad, are you seriously drinking with your buddies again? It's literally every day! And your friends are huge like buffaloes—no, like actual bears! I cook and cook and it's never enough, and you still invite them! And their faces—God! They look like killers freshly released from prison. I hate it."
The moment he realized who was coming over, the little guy almost shoved the spatula into his father's hand. The food was already done—yet somehow Dad always managed to create extra work.
"Oh, come on. Your old man gets lonely, you know? I live here by myself and these guys are basically my best friends—and my business partners too!"
His dad puffed his cheeks like a sulking kid, trying to sound all small and pitiful even though he was this huge, rugged guy.
"And that's exactly why none of you have a wife yet!" Tee shot back without even lifting his head. "The four of you sticking together every single day—no wonder you're forty and still acting like teenagers."
He complained loud enough for the entire gym to hear, yet his hands were already reaching for more ingredients to cook extra portions anyway.
"You're just like your mom, always nagging!" his father groaned. "But hey, now that she's gone, you should at least help your poor lonely father. No wife, can't cook, and even my own kid keeps yelling at me. My heart is shattered, you know."
He poked Tee's cheek with his calloused finger, earning an eye roll.
"Oh please. Sometimes I think you should've had me as a girl and got it over with—since you keep making me do every house chore in existence!"
"How was I supposed to know your mom's genes would be so strong?" his father whined dramatically. "Sometimes I swear I see your mom washing dishes in the kitchen and it creeps me out."
He crossed his arms and actually shuddered, remembering his late wife. And yes—Tee's nagging really was a perfect copy.
"You're being ridiculous."
"I honestly thought having a son meant you'd love boxing as much as I do. But no—you only fight with cats! Not a drop of my blood in you. But hey, at least you're great at cooking, and this whole gym is spotless because of you."
"You treat me like a servant. Just wait till Grandpa flies in from China—I'm telling him EVERYTHING."
The massive man behind him almost lifted his hand to smack Tee on the head, but in the end he only muttered complaints under his breath. Honestly, what could he do? Tee was basically Grandpa's favorite grandchild—no one in this gym dared lay a finger on him.
Besides, they needed him. Someone had to cook every day. And thank god Tee was obsessed with cleaning, because the entire boxing camp looked spotless thanks to him—even if he yelled at everyone for making a mess.
"How tall are you now?"
"About one-sixty."
"Liar."
"How would you even know?"
"You still fit through the neighbor's chicken coop. There's no way you're one-sixty."
"…one-fifty-eight."
"You sure your mom didn't have an affair, little Tee?"
"I swear I'll go light incense and tell Mom you said that. Don't blame me when she possesses one of the boxers and roundhouse kicks your neck."
"Okay, okay! I was kidding! Now go cook something for your dear old dad, won't you, my precious little Tee~?"
"Hmph!!"
.
.