Who's Cutting Onions?!?!

Who's cutting onions?!?!

What Ifs | Iwaizumi x Reader

Iwaizumi hasn’t thought about you in years—or at least that’s what he tells himself. Most days, he’s too focused on work, friends, and the steady rhythm of life in Japan to linger on the past. But every so often, something breaks through. The sound of waves crashing, the bite of winter air, or the fluorescent hum of a convenience store late at night—moments that crept back into his mind when he least expected them, and brought him right back to you.

The first real friend he made while studying in California. At first, he found your cheeky attitude irritating, a little too much like Oikawa’s. You were sharp-tongued and playful, and if Iwaizumi was being honest, a little too easygoing for someone who had so many academic responsibilities. But somehow, you wormed your way into his daily life. Sitting next to him at the library, catching the same bus, calling him “Iwa” like you knew him forever.

He could’ve made an effort to completely shut you out if he really wanted to. Taken a different bus route, found a new study spot, or pretended you didn’t exist when you called out his name childishly. Except, even more annoyingly, you reminded him of home.

But you weren’t home. You weren’t like Oikawa or anyone from his past. There was more to you—things that made you different, and, he would later admit, better. You were diligent, kind, and despite your popularity, you were humble. You didn’t boast about your accomplishments, didn’t flaunt the attention people naturally gave you.

That was his favorite thing about you. When people would be whispering in disbelief over who could have possibly gotten a one hundred percent on the midterm, you remained unfazed. It wasn’t until class was over that you would let that silly, triumphant grin spread across your face.

“It was meee,” you’d tease, voice lilting with mischief. He never saw you do it with anyone else. That side of you, that playful confidence—it felt like something just for him.

Despite all of this, despite how you’d already become woven into his everyday life, Iwaizumi kept you at arm’s length. He had to. He knew this was temporary—both the place and the time you shared. He told himself it would hurt too much if he got caught up in your antics, no matter how charming. Except you had a pull, your own gravity, and by the time he noticed, it was too late. He was already in your orbit.

He was the one who broke first. The one who asked to see you outside of class, breaking his own promise to himself. He took you to the beach, and you showed him your favorite tourist spots, laughing at how unimpressed he was with the so-called ‘attractions.’ And later, when you invited him to your favorite restaurant, he didn’t mind paying for dinner, or the ice cream afterward. Somehow, with you, it didn’t feel like a big deal.

There was no label, or a need for it. The reminder of the time you had left together was enough. You both lived like you knew there wasn’t time for ‘what ifs.’

But then the time came, and the goodbyes followed. The first was when he left California for Japan. You had insisted on driving him to the airport, despite his protests that you were a terrible driver. He had teased you, of course, but the truth was, he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you behind. He remembered looking back, risking bumping into frustrated travelers, just to catch one last glimpse of your face.

The second goodbye was harder. You flew out to visit him in Japan, and the weeks you spent together were filled with blissful dinner dates, shared memories, and the kind of closeness that made it feel like no time had passed at all. Unsurprisingly, you got along well with Oikawa, much to Iwaizumi’s dismay. He thought maybe you’d want to try long-distance. He thought you maybe you might want to keep this going, somehow.

But you were smarter than him, as always. You told him you didn’t want to.

“I just wanted to see you one last time,” you’d said, your voice trembling as you stood in his arms.

He could still remember how you felt in that moment—the way you shook, not out of fear, but because of the weight of it all. You cared too much about him to let him get tangled up in something that couldn’t work. The distance, the different paths you were bound to take—it would only pull you further apart. He understood. But it didn’t make the ache any easier to bear. It didn’t stop him from wishing he could have stayed with you just a little longer.

After that you never reached out to him again, once again saving you both from the ‘what ifs’. He threw himself into his career and met a lot of women, experienced love, real love unconstrained by time. Oikawa would ask about you occasionally—sometimes out of genuine curiosity, sometimes just to annoy him. It didn’t matter. It’d make him wonder what you’d done all these years apart. Had you gotten to experience the same? He hoped so—and that whoever you were with understood they’d always be second best to you.

At this point he’s been an athletic trainer longer than he’s known you, but you still managed to occupy a smaller corner of his mind. Still, unlike his childhood his friend, he wasn’t enough of a masochist to look you up on social media. The one time Oikawa tried to show him something about you, he’d looked away, feigning interest in something else.

But today was your birthday. His phone had made a collage of the special occasion. ‘Eight years ago, today,’ it read, with the cover photo being of your back to the camera, looking out into the sea. Iwaizumi felt his lips twitch at the sight. It had been more than enough time, right? He could allow himself to indulge in memory lane, just for a little.

The first photo: you’re wearing his sweater. He feels his nose exhale in amusement as he recalls you complaining that it was ‘freezing cold’ as you pressed yourself closer to him, teeth chattering. The next photos show you pointing out a lifeguard post, a devilish twinkle in your eye as you suddenly begin sprinting full force towards it. The blurry shots confirm he was close behind—there’s a clear shot of your laughing face as he traps you in his arms once he catches you. It softens his heart.

You had always been so beautiful, you were probably even more so now. The next images show you two inside the lifeguard post, your grin surely due to his nagging about your behavior, despite the fact he always chased after you. When he slides his thumb for the next picture, he finds a video instead.

You’re the one filming him, and he feels awkward seeing a younger version of him nervously staring back at him. He hesitates before pressing play.

“Alright Iwa, time to sing happy birthday!” Your voice rings out and his breath hitches. Over time he had forgotten the little details—like your voice. Hearing it now, how could he have ever forgotten?

“I feel stupid this is stupid,” His younger self mutters, and while he should feel more embarrassed hearing his own voice, he’s still reeling over the sound of yours.

You laugh, and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe for a moment. This is why he did not indulge in the past. What was the point of reliving this? Nonetheless, his eyes remained glued to the screen.

You turn the camera so that both of you are in the frame, albeit at a weird angle.

“Let’s sing it together then.” And you do. He isn’t even paying attention to his grumpy twenty-year-old self in the background, too focused on the way your eyes keep darting back to him as you two sing happy birthday off key.

“Yayy! Thank you Hajime!” Right. You used to call him that sometimes. And the way you’d say it, voice so sincere, it crushed him then and it crushes him even more now. You make him wave goodbye to the camera before ending the recording and he’s left alone, ears still ringing with the sound of your voice.

Now, on a newfound masochist streak, he felt himself looking up your name on every social media app he could think of. He had to know, he was alone so he could feed into the dangerous what ifs. It had been years but today was your birthday, maybe he could send you a message, maybe enough time had passed where you two could-

When he finds your account, there’s a new post. It’s you, celebrating your birthday. You look just as you did back then, with the same bright smile and mischievous glint in your eyes.

Only now, it’s directed at the child in your arms. It’s a slide show and each photo shows you in familiar places. The beach where you once watched the sunset together. The restaurant where he bought you ice cream. Tourist spots he’d scoffed at.

‘Happy birthday to us,’ the caption reads. ‘Showed baby Haji all my favorite places.’ He feels the breath leave his lungs, slow and heavy.

He shuts his phone off and sits in the silence. It didn’t ache as much as he’d expected—this final realization. You had kept him in your life, but that didn’t mean there was any space for him in it now.

He wasn’t heartbroken—just surprised, maybe. That you’d kept a part of him close by, even after all this time. He should’ve felt more guilty at the thought of the poor guy who either knew or didn’t know of his existence, which one was worse was anyone’s guess. Instead though, all he felt a strange sense of relief.

He wonders, just for a moment, what might have happened if he’d stayed, if you’d fought a little harder, if there had been room in both your lives for more than just memories. The thoughts come softly, like the waves crashing on the shore of a distant beach.

But he knows better than to dwell on what ifs. He knows, deep down, that you were right even if you were also clearly living with your own regrets. Your lives had gone where they needed to go. You had found your path, and so had he.

And maybe, that was enough. If not, he could always keep praying for another chance in the next lifetime.

same girl, I also don't know why I get angry sometimes ✋🙂

静かな SHIZUKANA haitani rindou

sfw, an extra to the home collection ⛆

you get into an argument with rindou on the way to the supermarket on a saturday evening and the first thing he says after you make up is "i love you," into your ear when he kisses your neck in the middle of the canned food aisle.

groceries are for sundays, but you're really craving for some yakult right now so you said to stop by the store for a quick grocery run and rindou nods.

the two of you engage in a conversation and it slowly turns heated when the car stops at a red light and the argument isn't really that deep. it's over something silly, rindou and you both know that, but you're getting upset with his words and he's growing frustrated at your curt replies and neither of you knows what exactly it was that has you crossing your arms and looking out the window instead when he tells you to look at him. you're just upset and you don't know why.

please look at me.

i don't want to.

he observes you through his peripheral vision with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other arm propped up by the window -- his head leaning on it -- and he sighs when he feels himself getting overstimulated. he thinks the angry red lights of the car in front are mocking him for his position -- getting you upset and pouty and he doesn't know what to do -- and he wipes a palm over his face.

you notice rindou's defeat beside you and shift a little in your seat, suddenly feeling a bit awkward with the silence. the radio is playing very faintly through the speakers -- rindou always turns it down whenever you're both speaking in the car -- and you move to adjust the volume louder. a session of the weekend radio talkshow comes up and you both (you're sure he's hearing it too) listen as the hosts talk about the major factors causing a relationship to fall apart.

your lips tremble a little when they mention the point of "lack of communication and understanding" because that's exactly what the both of you just did and you scratch at your forehead. rindou quickly switches it to another channel, a pop song playing in the background and you start breathing properly again.

he pinches your arm gently and you look at him. "sit properly." he says softly, noting towards your slouchy body and you sit up straight at his reminder. he helps you to adjust the flat pillow propped behind your back against the car seat and you lean back down to shift to a more comfortable position. rindou grabs your bag from your lap and places it behind under the carseat, "better?" you nod when you feel yourself getting relaxed and he starts driving again after making sure you're feeling okay.

when he pulls up to the parking lot, you quietly unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the car before he can tell you anything. he's wanted to make sure you're both okay before getting out but you seem so upset and overwhelmed and rindou understands. though he can't help but feel his heart tighten when he sees only your back and you're standing in front of the car quietly crossing your tiny sling bag over your torso, adjusting it so that the handle doesn't press on your bump. your white linen dress sways softly when gentle wind blows past and he thinks you're so pretty. the dress fits you so well and your hair is done nice and he really wants to tell you all that. but you start walking ahead when he locks the car with a beep and he can only follow behind you -- he can only watch as you enter the store and smile softly at the familiar old man (the security) standing by the doors.

rindou reaches for the cart after nodding at the old man as greeting and he props his elbows on the handle, pushing it forward and he sulks while following behind. you don't talk to him and he doesn't talk to you, but he's silently admiring the outline of your body from behind and he's eyeing the way your hips sway with every step you take. he watches as you compare prices and grab a little of something for the house and he can only smile to himself when he sees you grabbing a 5+1 bag of kitkat and a bar of kinder bueno's from the shelves and place it in the cart side by side.

rindou checks in there and sees how you're placing things together. his carton of milk and your box of green tea side by side. grapes -- his favourite -- in two boxes instead of one even though it's expensive because you know he likes eating it. your favourite broccolis in one big plastic bag sealed tight and sits in the corner buried underneath his protein powder and some frozen foods.

and you're busy eyeing different spaghetti sauces when he calls for you. "baby," you look behind to see him holding a big can of familiar milk powder and your heart softens. "you needed this, right?" you nod and he nods -- doctor fujita recommended that you try it on your last appointment and you've sent a photo of the brand to him before and he remembered.

and while you stand there staring at him who is busy checking the words on the milk powder, you find yourself not upset with him anymore. you think you were being unreasonable with him earlier. you want to say you're sorry -- that you didn't mean it when you called him a jerk -- and you want to get closer to him. and so you do. you move on your feet, abandoning the mission at hand (he is far more important) and you stand beside rindou while he rearranges the mess in the cart. everything is toppled on top of each other and he doesn't like it when he thinks the detergent powder is way too close your broccoli.

"i'll do it." you push his arm gently and he lets you take control. he watches as you arrange the things properly and when you're done his heart feels more at ease as you slide yourself between him and the cart while pushing it forward.

"was looking for the brand of spaghetti sauce my friend recommended. i can't find it though." you murmur and he wraps an arm around your body, hand moving to place itself on your belly with the other wrapped around yours and holding onto the handle. "what brand?" you tell him the name and he sees it straight away -- right at the top of the shelf and he swiftly grabs it down for you. "this one?" you smile sheepishly when you realise you're just too short to find it and he pinches your nose, a teasing smirk plastered on his lips and you pinch his cheek in return.

rindou pulls you close by your waist after you place the can down and he kisses the side your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and you smile into his chest. he leans his head down next and presses a soft kiss to your neck, then to your collarbone and you flush when you see someone walking past. but you don't push rindou away -- you never do. you think it's a bit silly to be this intimate in public and rindou has never been a pda type of person but a part of you thinks it's sweet when you've got your quiet husband clinging onto your pregnant body and kissing all over the exposed areas of your torso up.

"sorry," he rubs at your back and you lean your head on his shoulder, cheek squashed and he pecks your forehead after brushing your hair away. "didn't mean to get you angry." you shake your head with a frown, "i'm sorry for calling you a jerk." you bury your face in his jumper and wet the fabric a little because you feel so bad calling him that -- it just came out of nowhere -- but he simply hugs you close, whispering that it's okay and he knows that you didn't mean it. and you spend a minute or two apologising to each other and you think he's so prince charming when he looks up to smile at the elderly lady observing the two of you from beside.

you smile, a bit shy when she praises your love and rindou bids goodbye when she walks off with her grandson tugging on her shirt. "baa-chan, who's that?" he asks. "just two people in love." she says.

and rindou leans his head back down to your neck and sways your body in his arms softly to the jazz music playing through the speakers and you pat his back. "love you, pretty." your cheeks warm at his sudden confession and you kiss his shoulder. "love you too, handsome." it's teasing and he knows and he taps on your ass subtly. you kick his leg and hurriedly look around to make sure nobody actually saw that and he stifles a laugh when he sees how panicked you are.

and you both walk around the store for the remaining of the trip with your body caged between his and the cart. every now and then, rindou sneaks little kisses to you when he thinks nobody is looking and you grab one of his hands to place little kisses on his knuckles then place it on your bump.

"love you." and he says it again when you both are waiting in line to checkout and you press yourself closer to him at that, relishing in his warmth and his love. "i love you, too."

TUMBLR IS SO MEAN......

reblogs are appreciated! ૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა thank you for reading <3

Kozume Kenma x Reader Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Nekoma Fic Rec Masterlist

Shift Pt 1| Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 ✨✨💖💖by @seokiloquy (series, fluff, streamer! reader)

Loot Me Tender✨✨ by Falconette (fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers) A story about falling in love. Aged up.[COMPLETED]

Stick Figures✨ by @seokiloquyWhatever is drawn or written on your body appears on your soulmate’s.[COMPLETED]

You are jealous but you can't do anything abt it since you are not dating him ✨✨by @screamin-abt-haikyuu (oneshot, angst to fluff)There’s jealousy and there’s the more frustrating kind of jealousy when you cannot even act or make your feelings known since you ain’t dating the person. [COMPLETED]

Drunken Mistakes✨✨ by @yourstarvic(oneshot, humor, fluff) When drinking to much made you forget who your husband was. But what happens when you start flirting with someone and turns out he's also married? And why is he saying he's married to you? [COMPLETED]

Liquid Courage by @yourstarvic (oneshot, fluff, humor)Who knew drinking to much will make Kenma take care of you and to tell him few things about him?[COMPLETED]

Sacrifice✨ by @yourstarvic (oneshot, fluff)Nothings better than sacrifing yourself in a game to convice your boyfriend to cuddle.[COMPLETED]

An Inconvenient Crush✨ by the_only_iris (oneshot, fluff, crack) YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma's secret YouTube persona, puddinghead.[COMPLETED]

the inevitability of you and me ✨by @sunseteyes (oneshot, soulmate au, angst , fluff, unrequited love ) this is not your regular soulmates au where they met and fell in love. in this story, (y/n) and kenma met, but only one fell in love. would this be a tragic love story or will fate be stronger than them all?[COMPLETED]

rainy girl by @realcube (oneshot, soulmate au, angst) soulmate au! kenma finally saw his soulmate in his dream but something doesn’t seem right..[COMPLETED]

Games by @readerinsertz (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff, tooth rooting) [COMPLETED]

You too by @xnchxntmxnt (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Whatever you write will appear on your soulmate's skin.[COMPLETED]

Mine (Kozume Kenma X Reader)✨ by missingnins (oneshot, fluff, humor, slight smut)Nekoma's manager and the team is heading to a training camp with Fukurodani, Karasuno, and Aobajousai. The place they'll be staying at just happened to have a onsen too and reader-chan wanted to get in...but.. its a mixed onsen.[COMPLETED]

 The Red String of Nothingness ✨✨(Soulmate AU)  Part 2 (soulmate au, angst) You’ve been waiting for your soulmate your whole life. Preparing to go into high school, you’re excited for more opportunities to find your destined partner. But… then you find him. And his girlfriend.[COMPLETED]

Game Plan ✨by @lilikags (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Gamer soulmates do exist..<au where whatever you write apppeats on your soulmate's skin>[COMPLETED]

Breaking and Entering ✨✨by @dammitlogan (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff, humor)[COMPLETED]

 soulmate au by @haicuties (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) soulmate au where you see every color but golden, the color of your soulmate's eyes.[COMPLETED]

I'm not a game [ Kozume Kenma x Reader ] by Cutesight (fluff, smut)A new family moves into Kenma Kozume's neighborhood during the middle of summer. Little does Kenma know, the family that moved in is Tetsurō Kuroo's childhood best friend. [CPMPLETED]

Take 5 ✨by MicrowaveRave (oneshot, fluff, smut)A picture of the past inspires for the future, and a simple joke propels you into the unexpected as you learn that there are still some sides to your boyfriend that you haven't uncovered.[COMPLETED]

heartbreak girl ✓ | unrequited love, angst✨ kenma x f!reader x kuroo  by @tooruluv | teaser | pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 (final) | [COMPLETED]

change the channel ✨💖✨by alkhale (business partners to lovers, streamer! reader, time skip! kenma strangers to lovers, humor, slight angst) Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game? [COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq (oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

Second Place by YourQueenHasArrived (oneshot, fluff, angst, smut) Kenma forgets your anniversary and once again pushes you aside for his gaming career. How much can you take?[COMPLETED]

Kodzuken Falls in Love by katsukismom (fluff, timeskip) our little streamer boy falls in love with you~[COMPLETED]

 Indebted and In Debt (Vampire AU) by @oreosmama Kozume Kenma is one of the most infamous vampires to ever exist, the legends of him and his clan rivaling that of Dracula himself.  A chance slip, an accidental cut, and a band aid missing the trash can all lead to the chance meeting of you and the vampire committed to serving you eternally. “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.” [COMPLETED]

HE'S SO IN LOVE!!! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

okay that kuroo piece is still coming but have this small sakusa x MSBY!manager blurb that I just thought up and got so excited about!! I’m marking this down as fem!reader just for this specific little ramble. it can be read separately from the series !!

warnings: none, but probably a bit of a disconnect from what really happens at charity galas lmao

sakusa kiyoomi has a certain reputation for being very stoic and stand-offish in public- always polite but rather blunt in interviews. he’s tall, intimidating and not very personable around those who don’t know him, so it’s not a surprise people perceive him this way. his preference for wearing his mask most of the time only adds to this reputation, and he couldn’t care less. in fact, you would argue that he finds comfort in being perceived as unapproachable by strangers.

but when MSBY fans realize how horrifically down bad their favourite wing spiker is for the team manager, they have a field day with this absolutely drastic personality shift.

it starts with little jokes made by fan accounts about how much nicer he is to you in comparison to his teammates. they latch onto passing comments made by bokuto or atsumu about how when you’re at practice they feel at ease because they’re less likely to get obliterated by his sarcastic remarks.

no one has clued into the fact that you’re together yet, just that there’s some serious chemistry between you two.

it doesn’t go much further than that until the night of some charity event a lot of different teams are attending. of course managers are there, as well as coaches and trainers and JVA employees.

you’re doing the press/carpet walk before entering the event and in between photos and walking between journalists, one of the straps of your heels has come undone.

you frown a little and inspect it before realizing your dress restricts your ability to fix it yourself, so you nudge your boyfriend and stick your foot out to draw his attention to your predicament.

you don’t think twice about how there are no words are spoken. just a simple action and understanding between two lovers.

so people watch on as sakusa kiyoomi drops to his knees right then and there without protest and fixes your shoe. you take the opportunity to adjust the neckline of your dress (a deep, silky forest green to match his tie) and look around while you wait for him to finish.

you don’t realize the uproar this is bound to create, and you definitely don’t think twice about the fact that your boyfriend isn’t wearing a mask to this event.

…which means everyone is able to see the blush on his face and the tiny yet extremely lovesick smile on his lips as he gets up. you grin and pat sakusa on the cheek in thanks before walking to the next reporter, him trailing behind you dutifully.

you check twitter the next morning and your timeline is flooded with videos of that moment, captions gushing about how sweet and happy he looks. some fans go as far as to say he looks like a lost puppy following you around.

he doesn’t regret it one bit, but you have to comfort him when he loses his stand-offish reputation after that because he dreads the idea of more people possibly coming up to him in public.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I literally sprinted here to write this lmao

not edited!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee

to do it all again.

not manga spoiler free !

manjiro sano lost you in his past life. he has had to live with the agony of seeing you fall apart at his lies of betrayal and infidelity. now that he gets the opportunity to turn back time, there is nothing he wouldn’t do to make things right.

pairing : timeleaper!mikey x reader

content : angst with comfort. second chances. major manga spoilers. confessions of cheating (but it was a lie told by mikey to push reader away). cursing. mentions of death.

mikey stands on the ledge of a rooftop of the building, looking over the city lights illuminating the night, letting the wind brush through his long hair.

he could see the people from here, albeit tiny, he can still observe everyone who passes by. there are smiles on their faces, lovers holding their hands, happily walking on the streets of tokyo aimlessly.

a sharp pain shoots through his chest when he looks beside him, ready to hold the hand of the love of his life, only to be reminded that he is entirely all by himself. it hurts, and he knows he doesn’t have the right to complain when he was the one who pushed you and everyone else away.

he is alone by choice. he distanced himself and deliberately wanted everyone to hate him by choice. that should make it all alright, that the sole reason he has nothing is him. that is what he tells himself.

no matter how self-destructive he is, there is a voice in his head that loves him, and it questions everything that has gone wrong in mikey’s life.

is it really his choice if he doesn’t like it? is it really by choice if had things been different, he wouldn’t have to do it? if he wishes he had another choice?

how is any of this fair?

how could you let them do this to you, mikey?

who gets to decide who is dangerous and not? who gets to decide who would live happily with their loved ones and those who would die alone? if there is a god out there, how is it any fair just for him to be standing on top of the world… all cold and broken?

it doesn’t make any fucking sense.

it’s all so fucking unfair.

all his life, he has done nothing but envy people for being happy, and for not being afraid to be. because whenever he’s happy, he always had to brace himself for the consequence that would come next.

his happiness was always conditional. always with a price to pay. and now he thinks he has maxed out, having experienced pure bliss with you.

the love of his goddamn pitiful life.

maybe this is payment for being too happy. for thinking you’d both have a future together. it is his punishment for ever thinking it was possible for him to be with someone as good as you.

mikey will repent for it, but he misses you so.

he misses you so much he is close to hallucinating an image of you in all the places you’ve been to together. his throat itches at the urge to scream his lungs out at being full of too much longing.

he misses you, and his skin longs for your touch, his heart for your love, and his soul for your warmth. but he can’t do anything to change that.

he closes his eyes to get rid of the sight of people living their lives just right below him, and try to get a memory of you smiling at him.

instead, he is confronted by the memory of the night when he let you go. no—it’s not just letting you go. he deliberately hurt you so you could let him go.

manjiro sano remembers it all. he remembers your betrayal-stricken eyes. he remembers your quivering lips. he remembers your hiccups in between your sobs. he remembers how he broke your heart, the very thing he promised that he wouldn’t do.

he remembers it all too well.

it sucks to be the one who remembers.

Keep reading

THE MEADOW haitani rindou

sfw, hurt/comfort, an extra to the home collection 𖠋

"Mama, a boy or a girl?"

A tiny voice speaks and you're woken up from your little daydream.

Your daughter's gentle voice bounces off the wall of her quiet yet peaceful bedroom. The loud ringing in your ears are put on pause and blood stops rushing to your head -- you feel as if you're sucked back into reality. It disrupts you from the mindless, ruthless picking of the skin around your thumb that's starting to bleed and all of a sudden you're back in the present again -- a wife and a mother, sitting in her daughter's bedroom on a Tuesday night with the sole mission of checking in on her.

Wide, glossy purple eyes that so mimics the man she calls her father and he whom you call your lover, stares up at you from your chest and you smile a little at her expression.

"Dunno yet, 'Kiya. It's still early to know." You reach a gentle hand up to brush her bangs backward and reveal her forehead. You lean down to press little kisses on her tofu-like skin -- two smooches and three pecks -- and she pouts at your reply that has refuted the answer she's wanted to hear. "Mama, Sakiya wanna know now."

"A little longer, 'kay?" You pull away from her head to run a thumb over her temple. She gives slow blinks at your gentleness -- you know it has always succeeded in making her sleepy. But Sakiya seems to know of your little trick, so she leans back, away from your thumb, straightens her spine up a little, and she hums in defeat. But your baby still giggles a little when larger hands of yours move to tickle her sides gently -- an attempt to distract her from making a fuss.

She doesn't, and instead, your baby decides to rest her head back down on your mounds with small arms tightening around your frame and your nose sours a little at her gesture -- it reddens, and suddenly you're reminded again of her father.

And then you hear soft padding behind you both. You don't need to turn around to know who it is, and Rindou plops down beside you both on the floor -- he's still in his work clothes, most probably still working on some leftover paperwork he's decided to bring home with him tonight.

No doubt he's been standing there the entire time. You sort of knew he was there the moment he had decided to eavesdrop on the two of you -- the cologne that was sprayed onto his work clothes selling him out -- instead of coming in to say what he's wanted to say.

What more can he say, anyway?

You can feel his deject before he even opens his mouth, and he doesn't -- Rindou doesn't say a thing and he sits there while relishing in whatever he is currently feeling. Perhaps it is guilt. You don't know at this point, you don't want to assume -- not after the tone he's chosen to pick up with you earlier after coming home in what seemed to be annoyance. Not at you -- at his coworkers. You know that much, but you seemed to have received the end of it. It didn't feel nice -- it made you feel like nothing despite the way he still finds it in him to put away your laundry back in the closet after passing by the couch.

Sakiya doesn't acknowledge his presence outrightly. You don't look at him.

He sighs.

You hear a small clatter against the parquet, and your eyes move to take a quick glance. Your heart stops beating in your chest for a long minute, but you don't make it known.

You've half-expected him to see it -- it's placed in such an obvious place, he'd be an awful fucking husband to not notice. But you did not expect him to bring it to you; to look at you after with so much emotion held that almost makes you want to give in and cry when you peep at his eyes.

The pregnancy test looks so small in between the three of you on the floor compared to how big it seemed when it sat in the safety of your palms back in the morning -- shaky hands belonging to you who was alone, unsure of what to do, with no husband to yell for, and a girl eating sliced kiwi by the breakfast table who is still so young that you don't know what to tell her -- if you should be telling her this soon in your pregnancy that is still yet to be confirmed by a doctor.

But she finds out anyway. Sakiya has always been a smart girl. A gifted one too -- many would say.

And she suddenly tugs on the strap of your nightgown.

So you decide to ignore. You ignore him.

You continue indulging in Sakiya's little blabbers of telling her more about babies and you kiss her cheek after every sentence that you speak. You try to keep it as simple as possible -- that Mama and Daddy fell in love, had her together.

And you think your baby is so sweet when she flashes a toothy grin and soft almond eyes fold into thin crescents at the mention of you and her father -- she's always loved listening to the stories that you and Rindou tell her about the past; your youths, your memories that are still so vivid when playing in both your heads, your love for each other that had eventually blossomed into a little girl named Sakiya . . .

And Rindou's heart cracks a little more underneath those ribs and bones when you still don't acknowledge him, even though he is sitting just there -- right beside you -- and holding his pointer out to which Sakiya had immediately wrapped her little hand around it after seeing.

You aren't looking at him but he knows you are so much more than upset -- you are heartbroken -- and he notices how you try so hard to look at everything but him (you want to look at him), choosing to play with your daughter's hair and nosing at her chubby cheeks instead. He sees the little quiver of your lips that grows a little more rigid when Sakiya turns to him and asks if he knows -- because his eyes has never once left you the moment he'd entered the room.

"Did you know, Daddy? A baby in Mama's belly, again."

He didn't.

Rindou had only found out that you were pregnant again just ten minutes ago when he'd entered the bathroom after finally finishing his paperwork. He pushes the door open, and the first thing that meets his eyes is the white pregnancy stick on the counter with two bold red lines slapping him in the face after he moves closer to take a look.

And his heart drops to his chest.

It all connects, and Rindou leans back against the wooden door with a soft thud, a towel bunched up and sits messily on one folded arm as he holds the test with both hands carefully and thinks about all that he's done.

Because Rindou had been mean to you earlier -- you were clearly trying to tell him something from the way you've been attempting to drag him off to where Sakiya couldn't hear, and he'd brushed you off.

You tried talking to him when he finally came home after work -- smiling ear to ear when you greeted him at the front door and kissing his collarbone as a silent yet intimate welcome home.

Welcome home to us.

And you say while scratching at your scalp that you've just finished cooking dinner -- if he wanted to eat first or to shower first -- while throwing in a remark that you need a shower too, maybe we can talk in the bath. He tells you he isn't feeling that hungry despite the message being sent to you earlier -- asking if you could cook some curry because he has been craving for it lately -- and you nod when he walks away despite feeling a little weird from his sudden change in behaviour because Rindou seldom ever comes home like this, moody and . . . curt.

So you follow behind after making sure that Sakiya is entertained with her TV show that you say in brief and short sentences about you and your daughter's day. You know he is always overwhelmed and tired after work -- you don't want to bombard him with too much information, so you keep it short and simple.

It's a habit how you decide to shift your attention away from your husband who is putting away your laundry in the closet and instead, fidgeting with a pile of his clothes that's yet to be hung up. You figure it's because you're nervous of telling him about the news, so you're finding ways to distract yourself while making the atmosphere less tense and Rindou sighs a little too loudly when you pause to hear his reply to your genuine question.

"Did you finish the bento today? Was the shimeji nice? I got up earlier to make it because it takes longer to cook."

He turns to you and purses his lips before laying a hand flat out with his palm facing the sky, and you stare at it. You blink a few times, unsure of what is it that he wants, so you figure to place your own in his with a cheeky smile. A tease is about to fall out of your mouth until he sighs again.

Rindou clicks his tongue, "the clothes." A deep frown forms on his forehead while he stares at the pile of fabric in your hands, and under the intense atmosphere that he's planted in the room, you're feeling warm everywhere. Not the kind of warmth that makes you all giddy on the inside though, but the one that sends a hurtful pang to your chest and you're forced to hand him the clothes when he snatches it out of your grip.

Why is he being like this?

You grow awkward when he doesn't say anything further after turning his back to you. And you must've been a fool -- a fool to not realise his growing agitation, when you open your mouth to tell him you'll be getting dinner ready.

You should've left. You should've just left him and his stupid attitude in there to get as mad as he wants. You should've went back to Sakiya and helped her in changing the channels -- your baby was calling for you and her father both. You realise then that he hadn't given Sakiya her forehead kiss that she looks forward to everyday.

But a loose thread from presumably one of his clothes swirls around in the air and ultimately, it finds its place on Rindou's hair.

So you don't leave. You and your stupid heart don't.

"Baby, I'll scoop rice. Come eat when it's still warm." You inch closer to pick away the white thread. You're only millimetres away from it -- it is so close to your fingertips. You'll pick away the thread and then leave him alone -- but Rindou turns back around before you're able to do anything.

It was all so sudden. You hadn't expected it. You never saw it coming.

And it seems that your sudden closeness to him had agitated him further.

"Fuck,"

You wanted to end the conversation.

"Can you stop talking?"

He thought you were going to speak more.

And that, with an angry, dark glare, paired with a very deep frown that you don't think you've ever saw this look of absolute anger and annoyance being directed at you before, is enough to make you step back, all silent.

"I'm tired. And you keep on talking. Can you do it later or something?" He spits, words a little mumbly but with a hurtful tut to it. You know he is never one to raise his voice at you or his daughter no matter the situation, especially now that Sakiya is here with newfound emotions that she's still yet to feel and learn how to regulate, but he did it today, and he clicks his tongue another time before swiftly resuming to his task at hand.

So the laundry was a means to ease his mind off things.

But you can see the slight falter of his demeanour when he turns around again -- not fully, just enough for him to look at you, to see the hurt in your eyes as you look at the floor, and upon feeling his attention, you lift your chin up to stare back at him. You gaze into his eyes that once held so much anger and annoyance in them -- it is now full of guilt and shame. Perhaps he is sorry for raising his voice at you, he is sorry for cussing at you, but he doesn't say a thing, and he turns his back to you again.

Though Rindou didn't outrightly yell at you, it doesn't mean that it hurt any less than having someone do it. You think it hurt more than that.

Your hand rests by your side, fingers twitching as you feel sweat gather in your palms.

The pain in your heart is suffocating.

You turn your back and close the door with a loud pang. It was a fury of thought, and it scared Sakiya. You immediately regret the action upon seeing the shock in her eyes, the stutter in her breath as she tries hard to regain her peace. "Sorry, baby. Mama's sorry." You apologise with a shaky voice while carrying her up from the couch and towards the kitchen. She nuzzles her nose in your neck with wide eyes after feeling your comfort while looking back at the door to your bedroom, where Rindou is not present.

He hadn't followed you out. He still hasn't tried to apologise.

So you don't talk to him the entire evening -- not even when Sakiya was tugging on the end of your shirt gently and asking if Daddy wants to eat dinner too through a mouth full of rice and curry. You'd simply wiped away the excess off the corner of her lips and adjusted her napkin hanging on her neck, "Daddy will eat later. We'll eat first."

And it's when you figure that you're done for the day and headed into your daughter's bedroom to check on her and give her some affirmations that Rindou finally heads into the shower and notices the stick on the counter.

It was a slap to reality. He hadn't realised until then that he was being unfair to you earlier -- those mean words and the ugly expression he's given you, it makes him want to punch himself for making you feel so unwanted, because he's always the one who tells you to keep talking, and listens closely as you do. Rindou had promised not to bring work and its emotions back home, and now he's gone and done this. He's gone and hurt you.

He broke your heart.

He'd stared at the stick for quite a long time, with vibrating eyes deciding to take a quick glance at the bin just beneath the counter -- filled with boxes and boxes of pregnancy test kits and they all have the same results.

You are pregnant again, and he sure is a big fool for not noticing it earlier -- how you've been starting to crave the same things you wanted when you were carrying Sakiya, how you've started to speak less as to not get emotional because he knows your sensitivity must be heightened and everything would seem sad to you, how you've been feeling more and more tired lately because of your hormonal change . . .

And he also knows that you aren't ready for a second child -- you'd said it to him one night before falling asleep that even though it's already been 4 years since you've given birth to Sakiya, you don't think your body is ready for another baby yet. The trauma, the pain, the healing for both mentally and physically, it is all too much for you to handle, and he understands. Your recovery process was rough and his heart hurts when reminded of the days you'd cry in his arms that you don't think you're cut out for this -- for being a mother. Baby blues had hit you hard and it'd took a long time for it to wear off on you. And yet he thinks that here you are, being the best mother one can ever ask for.

You've not made any plans together for a second child either, and though it may sound a little harsh and mean, but Rindou doesn't think he is suitable to be a father of two. Sure, his baby is well-behaved, but there are still days where Sakiya herself can be a little bit too much to handle -- she is still a toddler after all.

So to add in another in the family? Rindou is not sure if he can handle it.

His train of thought gets disrupted when Sakiya curiously shakes his hand a little. He gets pulled back to the present again with the motion, and finds that she's staring at him with wide eyes that mirrors his own. She's waiting for an answer. He brings her hand up to place a kiss on the back of her palm before rubbing gentle circles at it.

His gaze focuses back at you before choosing his words -- you're staring at the parquet while playing with a loose thread on Sakiya's Hello Kitty onesie that you got for her a few winters ago. She still fits in it, surprisingly, and it sure is her favourite one to wear to bed while her father pats her back to sleep and you're beside to run a palm over her hair.

"I didn't. Just found out." He decides to tell his daughter honestly. You bite at your lip to stop the quiver, the sadness in you growing tenfold when it finally sinks it after his words -- that this is how Rindou finds out about it. You wanted to be the one to break it to him. You wanted to be there to see the initial look of shock on his face when he realises. But that wasn't how it went, and instead, the reveal of your new happiness growing in your belly was found out by its parents separately, both alone, along with emotions of anger mixed in with a little fear.

This isn't how it should be. I'm sorry.

An endearing giggle breaks you both out of your minds with Sakiya shaking her father's hand and tugging at your dress at the same time. She's so happy at her father's response. "Sakiya found out before Daddy, Mama." She turns her head at you, laughing.

That alone is enough to have you crumble. And you start to weep when Rindou leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. He then presses his cheek to your arm, scrunching his nose playfully at his daughter who is finding joy in pinching her father's cheek, while a hand of his snakes around your frame to find solace on your waist. It moves up and down, slowly, warmly, and he moves closer and closer until he's fully hugging you now. Despite the previous anger and sadness, you still let him do it though, and you too fight the urge to lean back against his chest and cry.

You instinctively hug your daughter close to your chest and press your face in her neck. She is so much more smaller than you are, but you don't think you have felt so safe holding someone in your arms. There is your husband, but he's been feeling a little distant lately.

Sakiya wraps herself around your neck a little tighter at your sudden movements -- as though she had sensed something was wrong, and something is wrong. "Mama." She calls out softly as a habit and you hum, albeit a little broken and hoarse, but she knows that you've responded to her -- she knows that you're here with her -- and it is all that matters.

His chest tightens when you fix yourself quickly -- a little sniffle, a wipe to your eyes, and you choose to push away your emotions. You are still avoiding him -- his eyes -- choosing to focus on your 4 year old who is babbling mindlessly into your chest instead and you're grinning brightly when she tries speaking in English. She's started picking up the language from you, perhaps by listening in on a few of the conversations you'd have with Rindou on the dinner table in a foreign language still not taught to her yet because there are things you don't want her to hear, to know. Bills, taxes, the car loan, are we getting groceries on Saturday or Sunday? Baby's birthday is coming up, do you have any ideas on what to do?

Rindou's moved so close to the point he has his chin on one of your shoulders with both hands securing around you and Sakiya as he listens to the two of you converse, with you trying so hard to avoid his steady breath as it fans over the expanse of your skin. It's so tempting, but you stand your ground.

Sakiya then spurs out a little something cheerfully -- you don't know the word she's trying to say, but it is cute and lovely to hear her try and you pat her butt with another soft kiss to her forehead.

And for a split second Rindou thought he'd seen you in your arms -- your face in your arms -- because despite what you and so many other people tell him, he thinks that Sakiya looks much more like you than she looks like him -- she's got your smile, your chin, your hair, your grace, your silliness . . .

Yet she also looks so much like him, and he finds his fleeting mind wandering further and further whenever Sakiya would sit on his lap and look straight into his eyes with a big, toothy smile. It is as though he is staring into a mirror -- at a reflection of himself, and through her eyes he sees so many things, like the young boy from Roppongi who is still so little with so many high hopes to so many new things in life, and always, the one thing that stands out the most is love: a warmth that has a bit of a red and orangey tinge to it when she hugs him as he carries her around, the flower of her father's name that she scribbles with coloured crayons on A4 papers daily to practice her 4 year old handwriting, and she's calling for you to come look at this 'new' scar on Daddy's eyebrow that has actually been there for the past 20 years.

He'd smile a little at the vision -- he doesn't think it's weird. Of course he'd see love in her.

Because Sakiya is love. It is evident with the times she'd randomly high five strangers in public, in restaurants with other kids her age, in daycare where she's almost friends with everybody her age due to her cheerfulness, and especially the times she'd sleep in your bed -- squeezed and coddled between the both of you -- with small arms still holding onto the bunny her father got her when she was still a newborn. She refuses to let you wash it too.

A total contrast of her father, and yet she's so much like him.

"Baby, you look so much like your Daddy." He hears you whisper to your daughter who is grinning widely in your arms with both little hands now covering yours that cups her cheeks. It makes him start chewing off the skin on his bottom hip when he sees the soft look in your eyes as you point out the similarities of him and your daughter. He was so mean to you earlier; mean for no damn reason at all, and his guilt starts eating him alive when Sakiya lulls her head to the side with eyes that are about to close.

"Mama, dodo." "Dodo? Okay."

You start moving at it, and Rindou watches with a careful yet loving gaze hidden behind half-lidded eyes as you carefully manoeuvre her body properly into your arms and stand up. He notices that you're avoiding your lower abdomen a lot, and despite being sleepy, Sakiya is also careful when positioning her little legs -- he figures that you've already briefed her a little by yourself on what not to do now that you're pregnant and your body is a little more vulnerable than usual.

A part of him screams for him to do it instead -- to stand up and put Sakiya to bed instead of letting you who is in a much more vulnerable state to do so.

And the other part of him doesn't let himself move to put your daughter to sleep despite it being something that he always does -- he is always away during the day for work, so you let him have a little space for himself to spend some time with his daughter alone at night. The sick part of him wants his eyes to admire the pretty outline of your body -- your alluring back, the way your neck looks when faced under the moonlight from the curtains that you leave open just a little because Sakiya doesn't like the dark a lot, your bottom that he loves touching at so much but he resists his itchy hands for now.

You're cradling your daughter warmly as you bounce her gently in order to coo her into sleep faster and his mind travels back to the times when Sakiya was still a newborn -- all those sleepless nights of waking up abruptly at 3 in the morning to her cries, and you'd shush her gently with a kiss before pulling up the top of whatever you're wearing to breastfeed and pat her back to sleep with tired yawns and droopy eyelids.

Caring for babies were still new to the two of you and yet Rindou would always stay up with you while rubbing your sore back despite being told to go back to sleep because you can handle it. He remembers vividly the way you've always looked like an angel when cradling your newborn in your arms as you hum a soft lullaby that Granny had always sung to you when you were still her age.

And Rindou thinks you look so pretty when your nightgown sways a little with you as you bounce and rock your baby in your arms, humming the same lullaby to her ear as she finally falls asleep.

His wife, the mother of his children. His lover -- you.

"Goodnight, 'Kiya." You kiss her forehead before placing her back in her crib and she hums tiredly. "Night night, Mama."

Sakiya doesn't say it to Rindou. He feels a little hurt, but eventually accepts that he deserves his daughter's neglect tonight to have treated you in such a way. You pick up your things in one hand and move to exit the room, so he quickly reaches down the crib to place a kiss on Sakiya's forehead while rubbing a few slow circles on her temple, to which she starts snoring gently at it.

And he follows silently behind you as you head back into your bedroom and sit by the dresser. He doesn't dare enter; he doesn't want to overwhelm you. So he stands by the entrance and watch as you take off your earrings, dump it into a container and untie your hair. He watches as you comb through the locks and put on some oil, as you pat down your dress and crawl into bed. He watches intently as you avoid laying on your stomach, you're careful when manoeuvring yourself under the sheets and he watches as you get comfortable and lay on your back with a huff.

Youdon't talk to him, and you turn off the lamp.

He walks, and he switches it back on.

You feel the dip of the mattress and open your eyes.

"Hey." Rindou finally says as he sits by your leg and sigh. You don't feel like talking to him, but you want to look at him -- so you do. You watch him hold the stick in one hand and the other rubs softly on your ankle.

"Can we talk?" You blink tiredly at his request and he moves down to rest his head on your lap. He's peering up at you now, eyes staring so intently into yours that you choose to look at his forehead instead. Somehow it felt a little scary to face his eyes, his intense stare, his pretty purples -- you're afraid you're going to see the same expression being directed at you again, but you see the little frown on forehead and your thumb itches to rub it over his skin.

You stop yourself after being reminded of where it got you both when you didn't leave it alone.

That sparked a small anger in you.

"You told me to shut up, and now you want to talk?" You're starting to feel a little petty, and you know it is passive aggressive -- not a good way to communicate after a fight -- but the anger is starting to take over your emotions and before you can stop it from taking its final form, you push his head away from your thigh gently.

"I'm sorry." Rindou sits back up in one swift motion, face full of his apology and you throw the blanket covering your legs away to the side with a huff. He's never one to apologise.

"Are you?" You scoff a little, "or are you only saying sorry after seeing that?" You jut your chin towards the stick in his hand and he sighs at the realisation of your thoughts, your brain, while furrowing his brows in the process of trying to get you to calm down just a little.

He's majorly fucked up.

"It's nothing like that, fuck." Rindou scoots closer to your body, panic evident in the way he moves and a warm hand covers your cheek. "Please, baby. Shit, it's not that at all." He pleads, thumb running over your eye bags and you close your eyes at it. You're frowning, you're angry, you're upset, you're tired -- it's everything all at once. Lips pouting, nose souring, and when you open your eyes up again you find a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

You feel so sad.

"Rindou." It's a desperate call, and you're sobbing fully now. Just five seconds was all it took for you to break down and cry and he panics a little when wobbly fingers peel his hand away from your skin. All the pent up emotions -- mostly of sadness and anxiety, finally breaking free from its facade and you choose to shuffle into his lap.

He is still in his work clothes, you're already showered and changed into your nightgown, but you don't care. Though he's upset you, all you want to do is to have him hold you and cry. He presses you close immediately and cups both of your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the many tears that follows.

You cry harder at it, because Rindou is the only one who can ever give you this much comfort, and yet he was also the same person who'd taken it away from you with just words and an ugly expression casted your way.

And you're honest when you say it to him.

"Baby, I can't do this if you're only in it for the children."

Rindou's world crumbles around him.

Sweat starts forming on his skin and he feels his cheeks burn stingily from your words. He is absolutely devastated when you said you can't do this -- do what? His breath stutters in his mouth as you sob silently and you cover your palms over your eyes to cover yourself from his. Overflowing tears escapes your hands as it rolls down the sides of your cheeks, and he finally processes your words then.

It's nothing like that.

"Baby," His eyeballs vibrates and blown out pupils flickers back and forth between you and the test kit in his hands. He needs to actually know what you're trying to say -- it can't be what he's thinking, right? He loves you and your daughter too much for anything bad to happen -- he knows he's fucked up. He didn't mean what he said to you earlier.

Please talk to me. Please. Don't stop talking.

"You're only making up to me because I'm pregnant, right? You want the baby. I know you do. All men wants them." You hiss through broken cries and his heart clenches at it -- like a chain filled with thorns and needles tightening around his flesh and it sends such a throbbing pain through his chest; but he knows that what you're feeling right now is ten times worse than that, and it is all because of him -- solely him and his major fuck up where the anger and frustration shouldn't be aimed at you at all. He should've never brought the work home with him -- it's done nothing but stress and weigh on his mind all evening.

"It's nothing like that." Rindou repeats his words and he attempts to kiss your cheek but you turn your head away from him; from the warmth that you crave so eagerly from him.

"How can I know? You were so mean to me earlier, I'm starting to think you don't want me anymore. Husbands don't talk to their wives like that."

You cry, you wail, your heart breaks in your chest even more, and he doesn't think there's anything he can do that can make up for it.

"I'm sorry." He slowly turns your head back to him. "Are you? Or are you only saying sorry just because you want me to stop crying?" You glare at him.

"I'n sorry, baby." Your cheek is to him, and he finally gets to kiss your fat now. One kiss and it's got him placing more and more on your skin. "So sorry." Again and again, as a way to display of his apologies that he's begging to your heart but you shake your head in denial with a pout.

"Men only stay with their wife for kids. They don't love them, they only want children." You spit with an angry sob.

Rindou knows it is your trauma speaking, and he doesn't blame you at all -- he knows the kind of father yours is, the kind of father his was, and hot tears spring to his waterline at the connection. He'd swore to himself to never become the men the two of them were, and now, he seems to be following in their footsteps . . .

Or perhaps Rindou is being a little too rough on himself -- because deep down he knows he is nothing like the men who have left a dark imprint on both your upbringings; that he is so much better than who they were in your lives -- a better man, a better person, a better father. And after releasing your anger it seems you also know that he is nothing like them too. So you cling to his neck and pull him closer to your body while placing wobbly kisses on his jawline as an apology for comparing him to them.

You're nothing like them. I'm sorry.

"I love you." Rindou whispers against your skin. It's heartwarming, the way he dips his head down to press his lips on your throat and squeeze at your hips until you're nothing but a wailing mess.

His heart cracks loudly in his chest. "I'm sorry. I was mean, I'm sorry. Didn't mean it, baby." And Rindou keeps on saying it again and again until your cries finally die down just a little and you start breathing properly again.

So much mucus in your nose and he pulls out a tissue from the nightstand for you to let it all out. It's messy -- your face is wet from tears, snot is still dribbling down your nose as he helps you to wipe them off with another clean sheet of tissue, and your lips are so red and quivery from the cry, the sadness.

There's still a hint of doubt in your eyes when he pulls away to take a good look at you. Rindou tries kissing it away, "love you, Mama." Your bottom lip juts out a little at it and he kisses on it softly, "love you." Rindou says it again and you knock your forehead against his cheekbone. It's a little gesture to show that you've acknowledged it, but you're going to need some time to say it back. Not now -- at least when you're finally okay enough to look him in the eyes again.

And it's when his vacant hand intertwines with your sticky ones that you finally ask him the question you've been wanting to this whole time.

". . . Are we keeping it?"

He's silent for a minute. A puzzled look on his face has fear running through your veins, afraid of what he's going to say.

But Rindou simply blinks down at your panic form instead.

"Why not?" He asks, warm hands running down your back, your neck, your cheek.

Rindou is truly confused by your question.

Relief washes over your body at his reply. You sigh into his chest, ". . . We haven't had plans for another." You state, and he picks away a torn, wet piece of tissue just beneath your eyes.

"Well, it's here." He fiddles with your strap next, fixing it in place. "And we're keeping it . . . right?" He looks at you while he asks it, wanting for your confirmation as well. He needs to be ensured that you want this just as much as he does. He's the one giving them surname, but you're the one giving them life -- a home -- with eyes to open to the world, and touch to feel the universe.

You nod softly at it, albeit a bit hesitant but you feel a little bit better when he soothes a hand down your back to ground you. "I wanna."

Rindou smiles -- it's a little shy, but you're shy too, and he pulls you closer to his chest with a warmth that only you can plant in him.

"Then I'm okay," There's still a cry left in you but you hold it in. "We'll figure it out as we go." He says with a nose to your cheek and you blink away the tears. "'Kiya is here with us too, no?" You nod again and he nods at you. "We'll figure it out together."

It's not perfect -- he knows his apology isn't complete, but he's got you calmed down for now, and you've figured out an answer together. He'll find more ways to make it up to you tomorrow, or at least when you're not as tired as how droopy your eyelids are right now -- you're sleepy and he knows, so he gently helps you to lay on your back carefully and he kisses your forehead.

You fall asleep in an instant with him kissing you every once in a while, and Rindou lays with you just a little bit longer before he finally gets up, off the bed. A small part of him knows it is not the correct way but he wishes that hopefully a warm shower will be able to wash away his guilt . . .

He carefully places the pregnancy test in an envelope, writing down the date and some other details before peeling off a yellow post-it from his desk.

Call Fujita for appointment

Buy mango rice

Rindou slaps it on the fridge. He steps back a little to look at it and eyes the big calendar hanging off the wall.

A few bites at his fingernails, a few more clicks his tongue, he decides to jot down the same things on there too, in the box of tomorrow's date -- he doesn't want to forget it.

He steps back again and his left foot hits a toy.

And all of a sudden Haitani Rindou is 31 again, a nervous first-time parent who'd just found out about your very first pregnancy together. The raw emotions running through his veins as he looks up on research online with shaky hands, as he held your hand while you consulted with your doctor for the very first time, as you both sat on the floor in the bathroom together wondering about the future.

Now, standing in the middle of his kitchen alone as he fidgets with one of Sakiya's toy he'd picked up from the floor, Rindou thinks it is okay despite the little worry about handling two kids now.

You'll figure it out together -- as parents, as a family.

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading <3