i’m just. very frustrated as an adult on a 17+ app being treated like i’m a little baby who can’t handle adult content or curate my own experience. it’s fucking stupid
Also also, there have been kids online for over 20 years now. I was 11 when I got the internet. I was 13 when I got a non-dialup one.
I'm 33 now. When I joined we used fucking GeoCities. Tumblr came around when I was over 18.
If my generation could navigate the web without demanding to be catered to, you guys can too.
When Kiyoomi arrived home, she was getting off the phone, a dazed look on her face as she stared at the screen beneath her. She doesn’t turn towards him, she doesn’t seem to be able to move or make any other facial expression.
She acknowledges his presence with, “I just got off the phone with Tobio.”
He throws his mask away and cleans his hands, giving her some space before leaning against the countertop and gaze at his girlfriend. Her body is closed off completely, guarded in a way he hasn’t seen in years but she still makes her way to him before letting her head fall on his chest. He smooths the back of her shirt with his hand, easing the stiffness of her muscles away as the news she just learned and he has been processing since he went to practice sink in.
She finally looks up at him, Kiyoomi’s hand resting at the small of her back as he watches her cheek squish against his chest. “This fucking sucks, babe.”
He snorts as laughter escapes him, booming and overpowering his unsettled nerves. He feels her slink her arms around him and her laughter joining his, airy and light - a contrast to Kiyoomi’s rougher one but it carries the same tone of insanity as his own. The laughter escapes with the air of their lungs until both are panting, teary eyes. Kiyoomi smooths her hair, pulling her head up until he can lean down and kiss her lips.
Kiyoomi leans his forehead against hers, her voice barely audible in the air between them, “He doesn’t need to know.”
“He is going to find out regardless, love.”
“Not really, I-”
He pecked her lips, “Kota is not going to let you NOT take him to one of the team’s practices. Even if you do wait outside or in the locker room, there is still a possibility of running into him at the court. There’s also the fact that we could run into him, whenever in Tokyo. Regardless of how much you hide it, he is going to find out.”
She sighs against his lips, eyes closed. “I don’t want him to know.” If they weren’t this close to each other, if they weren’t literally breathing in the same air the other is pushing out, Kiyoomi would have never heard the sadness, the despair nor the way her voice broke off at the end. He would have never heard how heavy but truthful those words were. “It’s going to be a huge mess, and so dramatic, Omi. I’m so over it by now, I just want to live in peace with you and our baby.”
All he could do was pull her closer in. He reassures her in small intimate gestures that he understands her pain, and wishes he could make it all go away.
“Mama? Papa?” Kota’s sleep heavy voice sounds somewhere in front of them, Kiyoomi peers behind her shoulder and finds his son walking towards them, a small blanket over his shoulders being dragged on the floor and Bibi in the hand that isn’t scrubbing away the sleep in his eyes. They both pull off of each other and she coos at the little angel she created four years ago.
He will never understand how someone that had been created through so much pain and hatred, could ever be so angelic.
I’m the luckiest man ever, he thinks as she carries Kota in her arms, dragging Kiyoomi with her to the couch and cuddling with them. Iwaizumi is going to have to tear it off from his cold dead hands.
―
Even though they had a whole month of mental preparation, it still wasn’t enough when Kiyoomi, along with his teammates, were standing in front of the National Team’s coaches and staff. Everyone presents themselves, but he’s barely paying attention, the moment Iwaizumi Hajime had walked inside the court and their eyes met, they had not let their gaze drop.
Iwaizumi wasn’t much taller than the last time he saw him, back when Kiyoomi was in college and Iwaizumi was still married to YN. A time when Iwaizumi held the entire universe in his hand and Kiyoomi longed to be him, when Iwaizumi had everything Kiyoomi wanted and didn’t know how to take care of it.
A time that was long ago and didn’t belong anywhere in the present day, as both dark haired men stared at each other during the day. Both clearly wanting to speak to the other but not knowing how to do so, after everything that had happened all those years ago.
Kiyoomi caught glances of him during the day, while he felt Iwaizumi’s gaze on him during the practice. And while he had complicated feelings for the man that hurt his love, he could admit that he was good at his job. It chills Kiyoomi to think that if Iwaizumi had used this dedication to saving his relationship, maybe he could have kept YN by his side.
He hates the idea and is morbidly glad that it never happened.
Whenever he can, Kiyoomi watches Iwaizumi. He watches the way he speaks to the coaches, to the players and the staff. He sees the carefree smiles and relaxed posture he holds with everyone else, except him. Kiyoomi isn’t sure if he likes it or not.
What he does know is that Bokuto hits a nerve when he practically screams at Kiyoomi during their break, “Omi omi! Is Kota going to come today?”
Iwaizumi is acting as if he isn’t listening, but the taller man can practically see his ear grow in anticipation of this new information.
“He isn’t, YN has to take him to a doctor's appointment after school.”
Hinata looks up at him worried, “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, just check up and schedule some shots he needs.”
One of the new guys of the team, Nakisuna, he thinks his name is, looks at Kiyoomi confused, “You know, with the way you are around people and germs, I’d never think you had a dog.”
Suna, who has been laying on the floor since break started, kicks the newbie’s leg in disdain, “Kota isn’t a dog, idiot.”
“Then…?”
Atsumu smacks the back of the newbie's head, scowl placed on his face as he glares at the young man, “Kota is Omi Omi’s son, when you meet him, you better apologize to my favorite and most important nephew.”
The conversations turn into background sound as Kiyoomi gauges Iwaizumi’s reaction. He seems a bit shocked, frozen even at the sudden news. His face is a bit pale but he recovers faster than Kiyoomi had anticipated and they are all soon being called back to continue practice.
There’s a prickling sensation at the back of Kiyoomi’s neck that Iwaizumi wants to speak to him at the end of practice, and he isn’t looking forward to it if that's the case. He tries his best to wash up quickly and run out of the building, face mask being placed hastily on when he hears a voice behind him call his name. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it's Iwaizumi, he just does.
Kiyoomi sighs as he turns around to face his girlfriend's ex-husband. “God couldn’t give me a day in peace, could he?”
―
It's awkward, sitting across from the man who had the love of your life first, the man who gave his DNA to create the child that you are raising, the man that has no idea about said child because he himself was one when he left.
It's awkward knowing a lot more about Iwaizumi's tragic life that is only going to get worse and probably mix with Kiyoomi’s.
He understands why YN didn’t want to deal with this.
“So,” Iwaizumi begins casually as he takes a sip of the freshly brewed coffee, “how have you been?”
Kiyoomi snorts at the question and has to bite back the laugh developing in his chest, his attempt of being civil is nice, but his intentions of finding out about YN and Kota are crystal clear behind them.
“I’ve been well, Iwaizumi. How have you been? Did you enjoy California?”
“Yeah, learned a bit more and worked hard, eventually I was asked for this job and well,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “I couldn’t find a reason to say no.” The shorter man peers up at Kiyoomi and his masked face, “How did you know I was in California?”
“YN went looking for you and your mother told her.”
He scrunched up his nose, “When was that?”
“Almost five years ago, actually.” When she was looking for you to tell you about the pregnancy and you shut her off like an idiot.
“Oh right, I remember. I never reached back out to her, I hope whatever it was, it got resolved?”
Kiyoomi feels rage inside of his body at this man’s nonchalance, “Yes, it did.”
“Good good.” Iwaizumi’s finger traces the rim of the coffee cup, looking at something behind Kiyoomi. It takes him a few minutes to speak again, something Kiyoomi isn’t going to do since the other man is the one that wanted to chat. “So, YN and you have a son?”
Despite his anger, Kiyoomi still smiles under the mask, never being able to do anything else when YN or Kota are mentioned, “Yes, his name is Kota.”
Iwaizumi smiles, “Happy and Lucky baby, huh.” He mutters, before looking at Kiyoomi, “How old is he?”
Kiyoomi watches him take a sip of coffee, and debates whether to lie about it or be truthful. He gazes at the way Iwaizumi holds the cup and drinks from it, his sharp jawbone and facial structure so similar to Kota, and the eyes… the eyes are all his son.
“He’s turning four in six months.”
Iwaizumi hums as he places the empty coffee cup on the table, he smiles at the waitress that offers a refill, declining it and stays silent. Kiyoomi can practically see the way Iwaizumi’s brain is churning and thinking, calculating Kota’s conceiving day and he truly wonders if he will get it without his help.
“So, you and YN must have had fun after I left, huh?” He smiles at him, “That’s good. I never wanted her to wait or suffer because of me. It's nice to know you two found each other.”
Kiyoomi sighs, “Yes, YN and I got together a bit after you left.” He still doesn’t get it. “But I think you are missing the point Iwaizumi.”
“What point? YN chose to be with you and you had a baby, are you two married? I haven’t seen a ring on you, but I hardly wore mine either.”
Kiyoomi bites his tongue at the barely there comment, “We aren’t. We’ve been busy with Kota, he kind of came as a surprise while we were dating and raising a child isn’t easy. Iwaizumi-”
The man chuckles, a glint of humor in his eye, “Well, babies are a huge responsibility, Sakusa. That’s why you have to think about having one before actually having one.”
“It was a no-brainer for me Iwaizumi, I couldn’t leave her to deal with it alone. I could have never left her anyway, I loved her since the moment I saw her.”
Iwaizumi meets his eyes this time, and Kiyoomi stays still as he sees Iwaizumi’s demeanor change. His face relaxes into a smile that's too soft and nostalgic to be called happy, his eyes soften incredibly as they roam Kiyoomi’s face and he feels his throat close up at the emotion behind the man. A man that lost everything for nothing.
“Yeah, she’s always been unique. I-” Iwaizumi sighs, “I never did treat her right did I?”
Kiyoomi can only watch him, as the man before him pours out something he had never expected to see. Remorse and regret.
Iwaizumi leans back, expression unchanged, “I never treated her any better than she deserved, and it will always haunt me, Sakusa. She deserved the best, only the best and I- I never did my best with her. I did my best with other things, with volleyball, with school, my parents and, and Jae. But I never did my best with her and I’m always going to carry that. I ruined a perfectly good relationship with perfectly bad excuses and actions. I know she’ll never forgive me, Sakusa, but I would really really like to apologize to her. Its overdue, but I don’t- its not right to keep prolonging it anymore.”
Kiyoomi watches the man before him for a minute, gauging his expression, his body language before pulling out his cellphone and dialing the first number on his favorites.
“Hey babe! You done? Are you on your way home?” Your voice filters through his phone, soft and lovely, breaking down the knot that had formed around his body as he listened to Iwaizumi.
“Yes, but uh- Iwaizumi is here. With me.”
The other line is silent, he continues “He wants to meet with you to apologize, if you would let him?”
“Does he know about bun?”
“No, that’s why I am calling… Do you want me to tell him?”
“...Yes.”
―
Hajime didn’t think that Sakusa Kiyoomi would grow anymore than he had in the past, but he was absolutely mistaken when he saw that the man had not only grown, but had bulked up and looked like he could absolutely take Iwaizumi in a fight.
Even sitting across from him in the tiny coffee shop, refusing to accept a drink but willing to hear him out, he’s still a bit intimidating. He thinks it's the eyes, his eyes express a lot and the way he can’t see his mouth makes it difficult for Iwaizumi to read him fully.
He knows he’s speaking to YN, it's clear in the way his voice softens and shoulders relax but his voice is too soft and he can’t really hear what they are saying. He can’t even read his lips thanks to the face mask, so he is utterly unprepared when Sakusa Kiyoomi looks him dead in the eye and says, “There’s something you need to know before you can meet up with YN.”
Hajime cocks an eyebrow in surprise, “... Something else other than you, her and your son?”
Sakusa looks at him for a few seconds, his gaze piercing, “YN was already pregnant when we got together.”
Hajime snorts, “Okay, so you and her had a fling before becoming a couple? Is that what-”
“YN was already pregnant when we began to talk to each other, she was already pregnant when you signed for the divorce and before I made a move on her.”
Hajime feels a bit lost at Sakusa’s words, not really understanding it. “What are you-”
“YN got pregnant the day she asked for the divorce.”
Hajime is quiet and then the memory hits him square in the face. He and her, they… on that night.
“Oh God.”
Hajime feels his world tilt sideways, his vision tilts a bit even though his body doesn’t move at all. It feels like cold water running through his whole body as he remembers that night, that day and what they had done. He doesn’t even question it, he knows her well enough to accept the fact that he helped with Kota. YN wouldn’t jump to just anyone, not like Hajime had.
“You- Me-”
Sakusa leans forward on the chair, gaze still fixed on Hajime, “Biologically, yes. YN went looking for you when she found out but-”
“I was gone.” Hajime feels disgusted with himself, then he remembers his family and friends pushed her away. Oikawa’s text and the way he always changed the subject when it was about YN. Oikawa had gone to Japan and when he left, that's when he changed, right after the text. He knew about it.
I saw yn today, and let me tell you something, Iwaizumi. You really should have let her talk to you all those months back regardless of your feelings for her.
I don’t think you can fix this, you really fucked up.
Oh God.
Hajime looks up at Sakusa, “I’m so sorry.”
Sakusa slides a business card towards Hajime, it has your name and cellphone number on it as he stands up to leave, passing by Hajime. “Don’t say that to me” he points at the card, “say it to her.”
It’s possible that all those little moments that meant so much to me never meant quite the same thing to him. It’s possible that he didn’t reach out to me for two full years because, when we stopped speaking, he didn’t lose something precious the way that I did.
People we meet on Vacation by Emily Henry
a/n! the time has come, for all to suffer and see the world come to crumbles :D its okay though, because you'll be getting a sweet treat on friday ~
edit: so... I am sick once again, but I have a couple of things ready for this, so I am queue them to be posted on time. thank you all for your comments on the fic, it means so much to me that we are suffering together ♥
his moan is deep, grutal and rough. it sounds like his solo bass in a full concert, the vibrations coursing through your whole body and leaving after shocks of it, while his fingers strum through each chord to perfection.
it's why you enjoy getting on your knees for him after every concert, why you enjoy swirling your tongue around his heavy length and suckle the head of his cock eagerly. you love hearing him moan as he gets lost to the wet heat of your mouth, love the way your name rolls out of his own tongue as he watches you take all of him in.
you love meeting his eyes as you swallow him whole, love the way his lavender eyes seem electric, glowing as if turning into neon purple before he says your name with reverence and let's himself cum down your throat.
you love the way he praises you, full of sincerity and honesty and love as you swallow everything he has until he's milked dry. you love the way he pulls you up and on his lap, kissing you as he tastes himself on your tongue before he pulls you with him on the couch.
you love it even more when he whispers against your lips, more vibrations than sound as he dips his long digits inside of you, a grin and "let me return the favor, doll face."
you love seeing the hearts in his eyes as you cum over his fingers, his name 'hitoshi' pushing through your own lips before claiming your mouth in his, silencing you before his bandmates hear you from outside the band room.
you love how he promises you more as his bandmates come in, how he ignores their jabs and whistles when he pulls out his fingers and cleans them in him mouth, eyes rolling back at your taste filling his mouth.
"damn bro, her pussy that good?" you hear denki mutters somewhere in the background followed by sero's laugh, as you watch glowing purple eyes chain themselves to your own. he smirks down at you, as he straightens himself up and helps you.
My dear Azy you and Bokuto would be such a fun and cute couple, I can already see all the fun adventures the two of you would have.
Your lungs are screaming for air, and your knees are starting to ache from the steep climb you just made. Looking up ahead you see Bokuto still gleefully point out things, a few feet in front of you. His face is brightened by the smile he wears, and his chest is barely rising and falling compared to how you're gasping for air. You behind you, the parking lot no longer visible, only trees that seem to go on forever. How can he still be so energetic after all that?
“Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to carry you?” He walks back towards you, his backpack bouncing against his back.
You shake your head, the palm of your hand resting against your chest, “No. I’m fine. Just need to rest a little. We’ve been walking nonstop for the past hour and half…how do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Remain so…perky? I don’t get me wrong, I really like that we're doing this, but having a picnic on the top of a mountain just feels,” you think your words over a bit, “so much work.”
Bokuto smiles down at you, ignoring your comments, “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you? We aren’t that far from the spot.”
It clicks then, he had planned for you to get tired.
I feel before I see the sunlight filtering through the light curtains in the bedroom. It warms the sliver of naked skin exposed by the heavy arm on my back. I can make out the sounds of birds chirping outside the window, their day already starting.
Blinking my eyes open, I look at the alarm clock and groan at the early time, burying my face in my pillow trying to will myself back to sleep, but in the back of my mind, the prickling feeling of anxiety starts to wake up, reminding me of the deadline of the new article I’m writing about looming around the corner.
Before I can even make a decision about it, the arm on my back wraps itself around my waist and pulls me into a hard chest. I loop my arms underneath his and wrap myself around him, burying my head in his neck, his breathing tickling the top of my head as he molds his body against mine, like he has since the beginning.
“It’s Saturday, stay with me love.” He grumbles into my hair, his voice laced thick with sleep making it deeper than usual. One of his hands is resting on top of my butt, the other is drawing lazy circles on my back, lifting my shirt up the higher he goes. I made a sound of agreement and we stayed in each other's arms for as long as we could.
It’s strange, when we both can and have the time available to just lay in bed and absorb each other's presence like this. Our mornings are usually so charged with things to do and the nights as well, but through trial and error we have both learned from our mistakes, we have grown from our stubbornness and lessened the arguments. We learned to communicate better, to trust each other and grow together. We have a system made, we have our relationship established and put in place, we have much more than I had ever dreamed.
So when moments like these come, even when either one of us has so much on our hands to do, we stay and indulge in little things. He enjoys the way I fall slack against his chest, lips pressing kisses along the column of his neck, lazily and messy, still half asleep in his arms as he sighs and relaxes in my ministrations.
His hands follow and trail the bones of my arms, my neck and back, adding pressure with his fingers at every dip and lift of muscle that he can find. I suck and roll the skin on the conjecture between his shoulder and neck, leaving a mark there. He groans low as he shifts his hips against mine, interlacing our legs together and providing much needed friction.
We are soon interrupted by the light pattering of tiny feet running down the hall to our bedroom, and I can’t help but smile against his neck as he chuckles at the little intruder opening the door quietly.
Kiyoomi stretches out our intertwined legs and I feel the small hand clutch his foot so the little one can pull himself up on the bed after throwing the plushie up. We soon feel the weight of a little one on the bed, crawling its way up until he’s standing behind Kiyoomi, his little hand shaking Kiyoomi’s shoulder tentatively.
“Mama? Papa?” Kota whisper-shouts at us and I bite Kiyoomi’s neck to stop us both from laughing, he retaliates with a pinch on my ass and I squeal at it, blowing our cover. Looking over his shoulder, I find Kota inches away from my face, his favorite green bunny plush that Kiyoomi had bought for him before he was born tightly in his arms, a brilliant smile on his face.
“Monin’ mama!”
Kiyoomi reaches behind and carries Kota inside our arms, laying him in between us. Wrapping his arms around me and Kota, squishing our faces together. Kota giggles as he kisses both our cheeks somehow, “Monin’ papa!”
Kiyoomi nuzzles his cheek against Kota, bringing out a fit of giggles from the little boy, “Morning, bun. How are you awake so early?”
Kota frees himself from his fathers grip and sits on the pillow in between our heads, pulling his bunny close to his chest, “Hungy, wan’ bekfas.” I look at Kiyoomi to watch his half lidded eyes watching our son, a smile plastered on his face and a caring gaze directed toward him. It doesn’t matter that three years have passed, Kiyoomi still looks at Kota like the day he was born. Eyes filled with joy and care, comfort and love, awestruck by the little ray of sunshine. It always makes my heart clench to know that Kiyoomi sees Kota as his son and reciprocates the unmeasured love.
Before we can answer our boy, his tummy rumbles, a clear sign of his predicament.
Kiyoomi looks down at me, a little twinkle in his eye, “Pancakes?”
I gave him a quick peck, “Pancakes.”
Kota springs up and jumps giddy on the bed, pulling on Kiyoomi’s shirt, “Pancakes!”
―
Kiyoomi walks down the hall of his home with Kota at tow after helping make his bed. The once empty hallway is now covered in picture frames and diplomas. When they had moved in, the only picture that was up on the wall was of YN’s first ultrasound, now it has a variety of frames with pictures of memories that they share. Of YN’s graduation picture and diploma along with Kiyoomi’s, of Kota in their arms for the first time, of all his birthdays and holidays. Of friends and family, of everyone they care and love for, of their achievements and goals.
He adores every single one of them.
Kota is tugging his hand to hurry him up towards the kitchen, so Kiyoomi picks him up and blows a raspberry on his tummy, a fit of giggles awakening once again. If someone had once told him that he would be doing this at 25, he would have probably gagged.
Today? He wouldn’t change it for anything, not his son or his girlfriend. Nothing.
As soon as they enter the kitchen the sweet smell of syrup and whipped cream engulfs them, the growling in Kota’s tummy stronger than before. The table is already made, fruits and meats on it, only missing the key food. Kiyoomi settles his son on his chair and makes his way to the love of his life, making pancakes. He wraps his arms around her waist as he presses his front against her back and kisses from her neck down to her shoulder, “Morning, love.”
She turns and kisses him, her lips in perfect synchrony with his own. The heat in his stomach makes an appearance and he knows he has to cut it short, before he traumatizes his son. She grinds her ass against him and he breaks the kiss, swallowing a moan and completely detaching himself from her feeling a bit disheveled, openly glaring at her.
She smirks at him, fully aware of his predicament, “Maybe later, but you need to calm down now” , she teases him as she hands over a plate filled with pancakes.
He swats her ass as he makes his way out, her look of amusement following his moves as she shuts off the stove, he grumbles a “Smart ass” before smiling at Kota’s sparkling eyes.
She winks at Kiyoomi over the little ones head, sticking her tongue out at him playfully before serving the boy his breakfast.
Breakfast is sticky and goey and extremely messy, but so utterly sweet when Kota is making happy noises, finishing everything from on his plate, that Kiyoomi can’t bring himself to hate it.
―
When Kiyoomi was single, he would spend his weekends either training by himself or with Komori, or he would clean his room/apartment from head to toe. Now, as a professional athlete and family man, some things have changed.
He no longer spends the whole weekend training and cleaning, instead he cleans for an hour at night and trains some afternoons, keeping the rest of his day open to spend with you and Kota. As the years pass though, he wishes he could reduce his training times so he can spend more time with the both of you. Especially moments like now, when he is kissing you before he leaves, at the door while Kota looks up at him gripping his legs saying his goodbyes for a few hours.
He knows you’ll be working on your article that should be coming out next week, a column you had in the newspaper about twenty first century love advice, and he still finds it comical that you would want to do it. But the way you pour your heart and soul to ever word in it makes him extremely proud. Watching you get immersed in your art is something he could do for hours, if he takes pictures of you during that time, well.
It is his phone.
The drive to the gym is unnecessarily long and clings unhappily to his skin, he’s already calculating how much time is left before he can go home and he hasn’t even parked yet.
He takes off his mask as he makes his way to the gym with the three hyperactive musketeers trailing behind him, carrying too much energy for him to even want to interact.
Kota is easier to be with than the other three, even when the bunny boy is high on sugar.
What does lighten his mood a bit is when Atsumu mentions the National Team getting a new trainer. Starting next month, his schedule is going to change and his family is already preparing for it, if the handmade schedule you made meant anything by it.
He would have to train three days a week with MSBY and the other three with the National Team. Those living outside the country would be brought in as the starting day of the Olympics comes near. His training times will be shifted to the mornings instead of middays and afternoons, meaning he will still be able to see Kota when he gets home but he won’t be seeing him in the morning before he leaves.
He is about to ask Miya if he knows the new trainer when Bokuto interrupts him, loudly. “Oh! Shoyo told me about him! That killer setter guy, Oikawa, went to his same high school! Right, Shoyo? He’s gotta be good!”
He listens to the tangerine haired man agree nonchalantly, but his eyes are shifting in a way that has Kiyoomi freezing and missing the toss Atsumu throws at him, letting the ball roll on the floor with soft thumps. The bleached haired man eyes him worriedly as he tries to push Bokuto off of him when he exclaims about never tossing him anything when he never misses like Kiyoomi.
He feels his heart skip a beat at the new information, cold sweat drenching his back and he has barely begun working out. His left hand is shaking and he finds himself clenching it in his other hand to stop it. The voices of his teammates mix together in the background as he tries to focus.
Kiyoomi rationalizes in his mind the simple facts that could stop his mind from spiraling:
He moved to the US. He has a life there now. He doesn’t have a reason to come back.
There are many people that went to Aoba Johsai and could have become trainers. It was irrational to think that he could be the only one to become a personal trainer, regardless of his studies.
Shoyo knew too many people from opposing schools, this guy could be from the first year lineup back then.
He can’t take away Kota.
He gasps at the last thought worming inside his brain and takes captive of his logical thinking. Kiyoomi is not afraid of him, but he is afraid that if he ever comes back, he will try to take Kota away from them. Kiyoomi is stated as Kota’s father in every legal document but there are laws that can help him and that mere thought causes the athlete to, in your words, flip the fuck out.
Kiyoomi just stands there, looking at his sneakers for a bit when he realizes that the white noise in the background is not him tuning out, but instead an eerie silence in the usually loud gym. When he looks up, he notices that Atsumu isn’t the only one observing him, but the entire team is standing still, and Shoyo…
Shoyo is biting his lip when Kiyoomi faces him, when Kiyoomi asks him, implores him, “Please tell me it is not him.”
Because if there is anyone that would know if he was coming back, it was either Oikawa, Kageyama or Shoyo. And all three of them work together in clockwork since they are friends, so if one knew, the others did as well.
“Yo, Tsumu, who’s him?” Bokuto whispers-shouts beside them before they hear Atsumu shushing, “Bro, not the time.”
When Shoyo looks back at him, eyes filled with remorse and heartbreak, something Kiyoomi almost feels like it's a reflection of his own eyes and he feels utterly defeated by it.
He can see all the ways this is going to mess up his, yours and Kota’s schedule because he’s coming back.
Iwaizumi Hajime is coming back to Japan.
This time the silence was longer. She said only one more thing before we hung up:
“Going back to something is harder than you think.”
I don’t suppose I could have broken my mother’s heart any more if I tried.
For One More Day by Mitch Albom
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ― im back! sorry this took longer than expected, but I kind of wanted to flesh out this last part of the series, that way I can actually post on time instead of making you all wait for the ending~
I have a couple of extra/mini stories for this series as well, a bit more insight of the past for reader and iwaizumi, along with sakusa and baby kota in the mix ♥ just to make you all feel loved for my long hiatus on the fic.
