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A lazy, complacent saturday afternoon. The days where you don't have to do anything, just sit back, relax, and zone out. Some people would prefer to spend their free time being productive, getting a head start on chores or planning for the week ahead. But screw those people. These were all thoughts circling around Hana's head as she sat in her room, enveloped in a pink bean bag with a laptop on her knees. Dull sounds of violence emanated from her headphones, her eyes glazed over as her hands worked on auto-pilot, a flurry on the keyboard.
It had easily been eight hours since she had last moved, and at least two days since she last changed clothes; her pink-patterned sweatshirt was marred with grease stains. After coming back from the tourney in Seattle, Hana had locked herself in her room, distraught after placing second. So it was practice time, and D.va was dripping with zeal, top of the scoreboards by a large margin. She had been rotating between Starcraft, Team Fortress 2, and an emulated copy of Kirby's Return to Dreamland for the last few days, trying to cover all her bases. Except for Kirby. Kirby was just for fun. She liked that he was pink, mostly.
A loud knock interrupted her stupor, making her jolt and nearly drop her computer. "Hana? Honey? It's time for dinner!" Buff mom, of course. Doctor mom at least had the sense to understand the need to remain cooped up and focused, something she did in her lab from time to time.
"Just leave it in the hallway for me!" D.va called over her shoulder, the first words she'd spoken since the day she got back. She was really grateful to her mothers, for sure, but gaming was important. The transition into the household had been a smooth one, and she was already comfortable around the two as long time family friends, but video games were helping take the edge of the fact her father was possibly dead in a foreign country. She didn't want to think about it.
A louder, more deliberate knock hit the bedroom door. More like a bang, really. "Hana, we need to eat together as a family! We haven't seen you in, I don't know, days?! Come out before I break the door down." Hana knew she wasn't lying, that was already her second door. The previous misdemeanor was something about leaving her dirty laundry around the living room. The professional gamer groaned as she paused her laptop, her legs full of static as she stood up, trudging towards the door. Fareeha smiled as she opened it, setting down a hammer she was holding, for whatever reason.
"Alright." Song yawned, rubbing her eyes. "What's for dinner?”
"One second." Fareeha turned to another door in the hallway, slamming her fist against it with the force of a state trooper at a loud party. "HEY BABE IT'S TIME FOR SUPPER GET OUT HERE."
"GO SUCK ON A CHODE." A muffled voice answered from inside the laboratory, followed by loud crashing and the sound of flying papers. The door opened a few minutes later, Angela quickly closing it behind her and looking quite tired with purple bags beneath her eyes. "Hi, sweetheart. Oh, darling, you're going to eat dinner with us?! I'm so happy!" Hana looked away in embarrassment as Mercy sprung into full doting mother mode. Angela beamed cheerily at the pleasant surprise.
Dinner that evening was chicken adobo, something new Fareeha was trying. She got the recipe from a coworker, and it was her turn to cook. A pair of large pots sat in the middle of the table, one filled with the brown-colored meat and the other with copious amounts of rice. Fareeha waited until they were all right in the middle of eating before starting a conversation, like any good parent would. "How's the food?"
"Good." Hana nodded, quickly pausing from tearing into a thigh to spit out a small black ball. "But peppercorn fucking blows."
"Same." Angela dabbed her mouth with a napkin, picking the seasoning off her chicken and creating a small pile.
"Well, it wouldn't be chicken adobo without peppercorn. So, how have you been, honey? How was the trip?" Pharah waved a drumstick nonchalantly, trying to mask parental concern with small talk. Hana stopped shoveling rice into her mouth, swallowing before speaking.
"Seattle's full of low-tier fuck noobs, if you ask me. Other than that, it was good. I had fun. GG no re." Fareeha stroked her chin with an understanding look on her face as Hana went back to eating, pretending she knew what 'low-tier' meant.
"Same." Mercy agreed as she picked at her food, wanting to be back upstairs.
"Stop that." The security guard threw her spouse a quite scowl, Hana trying not to laugh each time Angela spoke. "So, how's everything been, then? Are you comfortable? How's your room?"
D.va rolled her eyes, playing with her fork and waiting for a chance to excuse herself from the table. "I'm fine, mom. Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself."
"I went into your room while you were gone and couldn't get past the pile of pizza boxes on your floor." Fareeha raised a brow, not entirely convinced. Hana took a moment, slackjawed.
"......So that's why those were all gone when I came back......Wait, what were you doing in there?"
"Don't look at me, look at your mother. Other mother." Pharah shrugged towards Angela, who was enjoying the conversation from the sidelines.
"I was curious." Mercy laughed softly, tilting her head to the side and trying to look cute as her daughter stared at her in disdain.
"Whatever." Hana pushed her chair back, standing up and deliberately leaving her dishes on the table as she began upstairs. "Thanks for cleaning up the pizza, I guess."
The real mvp sunk back into her beanbag, folding her hands on her stomach instead of dashing for her laptop. She had to admit, mom knew how to cook. Before she could get back to "work" someone rapped on the door. Fareeha was leaning the in the doorway, holding two dishes stacked with chocolate cake. "You left before I could give you dessert." The guard let herself in, nonchalantly taking a seat next to her child and handing her a plate.
"...Did you bring any mountain dew?" Hana hesitated, not being fully ungrateful as she dropped her better-than-thou attitude. Pharah whipped a can from one of the many pockets of her cargo pants, trading the soda for a quick talk.
"Angela was just worried about you, in her own way. Also, i'm pretty positive she has no concept of personal space."
"Oh, that." The soda opened with a sharp ' pop '. "I'm not concerned about that. I just don't think you guys need to be so worried about me. You've known me for how many years?"
Pharah threw an arm around the teen, holding her lightly. "It's not just that you're our daughter now. It's that we're your parents, and we want to make sure we're doing a good job. The best job. Because we love you." Fareeha gave her shoulder a quick pat before rising to leave, gently closing the door behind her. "Angela baked the cake. Tell her if you like it."
"...." Hana set down the mountain dew, spearing the dessert with her fork and gingerly taking a small bite. It was warm. Hana could feel tears clouding up her vision, unsure why she was crying as she took another bite of the chocolate cake.
"How is she?" Angela sat on the floor of their bedroom, letting her hair down as Fareeha stepped in, exhaling stress as she slid to the carpet.
"Honestly, I have no idea. I have no experience with children."
Mercy snickered, flipping a page of the magazine in front of her as a reassuring smile sat on her lips. "I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job, sweetheart."