@kvdakenai
When Tomoko had contacted him to tell him about their son, Joseph had hardly believed it. But throughout his journey back to Morioh, he’d thought long and hard about it, and his surprise dulled into understanding. She’d always been a stubborn, independent and--proud woman, something that had attracted him to her in the first place. He believed that she wouldn’t want to have accepted his help, which he would’ve supplied without thought.
Morioh was a nostalgic sight for him, and he found himself unable to stop a smile from appearing on his face. The quiet town was a farcry from New York’s hustle and bustle. While the exact location of Tomoko’s home eluded his admittedly faulty memory, he soon found himself coming up to a familiar house. He parked his car at the front, and didn’t allow himself to hesitate as he came up to the front door and rang the bell.
Uncharacteristically nervous as he heard the sound of footsteps approach, he hastily attempted to straighten up, dust himself down--and look like he wasn’t about to burst into hysterics. He probably failed at that last bit when he realised that the person who answered the door wasn’t Tomoko.
He had to look down to see a boy whose head barely reached Joseph’s waist. Black hair styled in a quiff of sorts, skin that was tanned from playing outdoors--and eyes that were identical in colour to his own.
Joseph could feel his heart pounding heavily in his chest. “--You... you are Josuke?” He asked, his accent even heavier than usual from his nervousness.
