The hours had blended together for Yaku— stained with worry that painted his every waking moment since Shouhei had presented at practice like a zombified corpse the day before. He wanted to check up on him... just as he wanted to give the boy his privacy; because the cats were prideful creatures, after all. It was an internal conflict— paternal conflict— that was only resolved when the rest of the team, frustrated at the fact that he was too preoccupied to save a single volleyball that next practice, sent him off to deliver their condolences for them. And so, with a duffle full of goodies from the pharmacy as well as the supermarket, Yaku had set out to do just that.
As it turned out, he knew less about the Nekoma's quietest than he thought... including his where he lived. A phonebook had sufficed... he only hoped it wasn't outdated and that he wouldn't end up at a stranger's door.
He crossed his fingers as he rang— and gasped when it opened. The boy standing there was Fukunaga, yes... but that was just it. If cats had nine lives, he looked like he'd expired eight and a half of them.
Terrible.
And Yaku could not restrain himself for a second longer.
❝ —WHAT ARE YOU DOING OPENING THE DOOR???? ❞
There was no time for a greeting, or to celebrate the fact that he'd found the right house after all. It seemed as if the slightest spring breeze would sweep him off his feet. With a rushed 'o-jama shimasu', he let himself inside and steadied the other boy by his shoulders.
❝ Where are your parents—??❞ They were the people he'd been expecting to introduce himself to, after all. ❝ You should be in bed!❞
His stubborn kouhai truly would be the death of him...
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