My Dad Has the Worst Priorities

I braced myself for some deep, emotional backstory—some tragic reveal about why my father had vanished all these years. Maybe he was a secret agent. Maybe he was in witness protection. Maybe he had been fighting off ninjas in the mountains this whole time.

Instead, he leaned forward, looked me dead in the eye, and said:

"Ryo, I need you to do me a favor."

I swallowed. "What?"

His face was serious. "I need you… to convince your mother to take me back."

...

I blinked.

"...WHAT?!"

He nodded gravely. "Listen, son, I know I wasn't there for you. I know I disappeared for years. But I had my reasons. Very important reasons."

I crossed my arms. "Oh, really? And what, pray tell, were these very important reasons?"

He hesitated. His eyes darted around. Then, finally, he sighed and admitted:

"I, uh... I forgot where we lived."

Silence.

I stared at him.

He stared at me.

I opened my mouth. I closed it. I opened it again. Nothing came out.

"YOU WHAT?!"

"I forgot! Okay?! You guys moved, and I lost the address, and then one thing led to another, and, uh… I kinda just never came back."

I was going to have a stroke.

"You expect me to believe that you disappeared for ten years because you forgot our address?!" I shouted.

He nodded solemnly. "Son, have you ever tried looking for someone without a phone or the internet? It's really hard."

I buried my face in my hands. "Dad, you could have literally asked anyone. You could have gone to my school. You could have called Mom. You could have—"

"Okay, okay, I made some mistakes," he said, waving me off. "The point is, I'm here now, and I need your help. I want to come home. I want to be a family again. And also..."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Your mother… has gotten way hotter."

I choked.

"DAD. WHAT THE HELL."

He nodded sagely. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she was always beautiful. But now? Hoo boy. Those years have been good to her. I mean, did you see her? That figure? Those—"

I threw my hands over my ears. "STOP. JUST STOP."

He sighed dramatically. "Look, all I'm saying is, your old man deserves a second chance. I can protect you from Yuki's dad, but in return, I need a place to stay. And if that place happens to be next to Sayaka every night, well… that's just a bonus." He winked.

I gagged. "You're disgusting."

"Disgustingly in love," he corrected. "Come on, Ryo. Help your old man out."

I groaned. "And how exactly do you plan on 'protecting' me, huh? What, are you secretly a trained assassin? A former mafia boss? What?"

He rubbed his chin. "Well... no. But I did take a self-defense class once. Got all the way to yellow belt."

I stared at him. "Yellow belt. You think you can take on the Hayasaka family with a yellow belt?"

He shrugged. "Hey, it's better than nothing."

I was so done.

I stood up. "I'm leaving. I can't listen to this anymore."

"Wait, wait!" He grabbed my arm. "Just think about it, okay? I swear, I'll make it up to you. Just get me back in the house. I'll protect you, I'll be the dad you never had, and maybe—just maybe—you'll finally get some proper home-cooked meals instead of that instant ramen garbage."

I hesitated.

Damn it.

The man knew my one weakness.

I sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll… think about it. But if you say one more word about my mom's—"

"—bountiful beauty?"

"GOODBYE."

I stormed out of the diner as he chuckled to himself.