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Tooru frowns as he looks down at his dog sprawled out at his feet, not bothering to budge when he fetches her leash like she usually does. He squats next to her and rubs around her ears, “Not feeling well, Nana-chan?
Nana, the Oikawa family’s faithful kai ken pooch, lifts her head at the sound of his voice, yawns, and sags back down into her dog bed and returns to her nap. She usually races him to the door when it’s time for a walk, and she’s thrown up twice in the past week. Tooru isn’t a vet by any means, but there is clearly something amiss with his furry friend.
Poking his head into the kitchen, Tooru waves. “Mom, I’m taking Nana to the vet.”
Takako, his mother, looks up from the puzzle sprawled out on the kitchen table and creases her brow in a way Tooru has seen in the mirror a thousand times before. “She has been sluggish lately. She didn’t want to go on her walk yesterday, either.” Her face brightening when she finds the home for the puzzle piece in her hand, she murmurs, “Take the car, sweetie.”
Nana doesn’t object to being shepherded into the car. Tooru would classify himself as a good driver, but he keeps the car’s pace to almost a crawl as he travels the few kilometers between their house and the vet’s office. While his mother will understand if Nana pukes in the backseat, he isn’t enthused about the idea of cleaning it up.
Soon, they arrive at the animal clinic, and after a fifteen minute or so wait, they’re called to the back. Tooru helps Nana up onto the stainless steel exam table, stroking her fur while they wait for the vet to arrive.
Tooru shakes the man’s hand and watches in bald curiosity while the vet touches and probes and listens to various parts of Nana with his stethoscope. When he looks up, however, he’s all smiles. “Well, congratulations are in order, Oikawa-san. You’ll be seeing a litter of puppies in about a month. By the size and feel, probably five or six.”
Choking on the breath he had been holding, Tooru wheezes, “Puppies? She’s pregnant?”
“That’s usually what puppies means.” The vet scratched under Nana’s chin, and she gave him a lazy smile. “She’s going to be a little less energetic for a while, and once she hits her third trimester, she won’t want to do much. Make sure her food is near where she sleeps so she doesn’t get strained.”
Tooru nods solemnly, accepting the slew of pamphlets about what to expect when you’re expecting puppies, along with a list of websites to visit for tips and to ask advice. He leaves the animal clinic in a daze, wondering how to tell his mother that they’ll have little ones running around of the non-human sort.
Takako’s entire being lights up at the prospect of puppies, even if the house will be filled with way more dogs than the floor plan would warrant. They’ll give most of them away, no doubt, but the way her eyes gleam with enthusiasm, Tooru doesn’t doubt they’ll get to keep at least one of the babies. A baby who will most definitely get fixed as soon as it’s feasible.
The days drag by in a flurry of anxiety for Tooru, but thanks to hours of reading and instructional video watching, when Baby Day arrives, he is prepared. And also apologetic to his professors, emailing them about a ‘family emergency’ that has come up.
With the whole household on high alert, Hajime even takes the day off from his own school and comes over. Nana has always liked Tooru’s best friend more than anyone, and his steady hand soothes her while she pants her way through labor. “Thatta girl,” Hajime murmurs, rubbing Nana’s chin in her favorite spot.
Over his shoulder, Hajime asks, “So, uh, not to be indelicate, but who is the father?”
“I don’t know!” Tooru drops to the floor and crosses his legs. “It had to happen when she got out of the yard a couple of months ago, but it could be any male dog in a half kilometer radius. I guess we’ll see what breed they are when they come out.”
Pouting, Tooru grumbles, “My dog is a floozy, Iwa-chan.”
Hajime flicks Tooru in the forehead. “Your dog is a dog, dumbass. They do what they do because nature told them to do it. If you didn’t want puppies, you would’ve got her fixed.”
Tooru bites back a retort because he knows Hajime is painfully correct.
The puppies come in a rush of sweat (his, mostly) and unspeakably disgusting slime, but he towels each of them off carefully nonetheless before setting them at Nana’s side so they can nurse. When all five babies are happily partaking in their first meal outside of their uterine prison, Tooru splays himself out on the floorboards and sighs. “Childbirth is horrible.”
“Yeah, well wait until it’s a human child.” Hajime shivers. “It’s like watching a slasher movie, only people actually do it on purpose.”
“Gross, Iwa-chan.”
The two of them dote on the puppies for a while, but the mood is shattered when Hajime throws back his head and laughs until he can’t breathe. Tooru gapes at him, and when Hajime notices his startled expression, he only laughs harder.
“Oh, man, you are so not gonna like this.” Hajime takes a deep breath and visibly counts to ten before he says. “I think I know who the father is.” When Tooru’s eyes widen, he says, “I’m pretty sure the other dog was a shiba, and there’s only one male shiba on the block. You know exactly who the baby daddy is.”
Tooru scours his brain, and when he realizes what Hajime is intimating, his jaw sags open and his face contorts in distaste. “Oh, that is just wrong.” He leans down nose to nose with Nana and pouts. “How could you, Nana-chan?”
Rolling his eyes, Hajime says, “I’m pretty sure there are diagrams for that. Now leave the dog alone. Go deal with the owner, instead.”
“I will.” When Hajime nods toward the front door, Tooru stalks to the exit and vows that someway, somehow, Ushijima Wakatoshi and his shiba are going to do right by Nana, and he intends to collect.
An hour later, while Hajime and Takako watch the babies, Tooru finds himself on an unfamiliar doorstep restraining himself from stabbing the doorbell until he pushes it through the wall.
No one answers the door, but an obnoxiously familiar voice calls out from his left. “Oikawa?”
Tooru whips his head around and glares at his target, who is exiting through the gate leading to the backyard, with his furry accomplice at his side. Jabbing his finger in Wakatoshi’s direction, he growls, “You!” His finger drops down to point at Wakatoshi’s shiba inu. “ And you!”
“Why are you pointing at my dog, Oikawa?” Wakatoshi clips a leash to his shiba’s collar - for a run, if the track suit is anything to go by.
Tooru takes a deep breath and squelches his simmering irritation. “Your dog,” he says through gritted teeth, “got my dog pregnant.”
Wakatoshi bobs his head. “Congratulations.”
“That's not why I'm here!” Tooru stomps up to Wakatoshi, earning him a growl from the shiba. “As a parent, you need to take responsibility.”
Nose wrinkling, Wakatoshi frowned. “I assure you, I had nothing to do with that process.” Peering down at the dog nudging his leg, a smile teases at his lips. “Did you find a lady friend, boy?”
The shiba yips in reply, and Wakatoshi scratches the crown of his head. “I’m curious, how do you know they’re his?”
Tooru plants his fists on his hips and huffs. “Well, unless kai kens can magically start shooting out shibas, I’m gonna take a wild stab and say the daddy is a shiba. We’ll just ignore the whole part where Nana is dark brown and only two of the babies are that color. The rest look like him.”
Nodding solemnly, Wakatoshi answers, “That is some compelling evidence.” He exhales heavily. “What are you planning to do with them?”
“Keep one, maybe two, and give the rest away.”
“And what is it you want me to do?”
“Something!” Tooru rakes his fingers through his hair and growls under his breath. “What am I supposed to do with five more dogs?”
Scratching his chin, Wakatoshi hums. “I might have some ideas.” Tooru could swear he spies a tinge of pink on Wakatoshi’s cheek. “Can I see them?”
Tooru bites back the urge to screech a resounding no, instead opting for a tired, “Yeah. Follow me."
They walk side by side down the street and over one block to the Oikawa abode, and Tooru wonders if Wakatoshi will explode if he crosses the threshold. One can only hope.
Hajime gapes in slack-jawed surprise when he sees Wakatoshi following behind Tooru. Wakatoshi’s dog is secured to the front porch railing, leaving them as drama free as they're ever going to be when they kneel down together next to a dozing Nana and her litter.
Wakatoshi’s fingers gently stroke one puppy’s fur while he offers the other hand to Nana for inspection. Her eyes open half mast, and she licks his hand in approval.
“Traitor,” Tooru hisses, and Nana gives him a doleful glance. “Hey, don't make me feel bad, Nana-chan.”
Tooru watches carefully while Wakatoshi carefully visits each one of the pups. Nana resumes her nap, and satisfied the babies are in good hands, Hajime slips out of the room with a tight little wave.
“They are most certainly Kenta’s,” Wakatoshi offers before pushing to his feet. “Nana is a beautiful dog, by the way. Very sweet.”
A smile that absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Wakatoshi’s compliments spreads across Tooru’s face. “She really is.” With a sigh, he asks, “So, Uncle Bakawaka-chan, what are we going to do about the children?”
Wakatoshi pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “Oikawa, you're twenty one years old. Haven't you grown out of infantile insults by now?”
From the kitchen, Hajime calls, “Nope.”
“Good to know.” Wakatoshi brushes his hands off on his track bottoms. “They’ll have to stay here until they can be weaned, obviously. I can provide supplies and supervised playtime as long as we can schedule it, and I will do my best to help find good homes for them.”
Tooru’s cheeks burn in embarrassment at Wakatoshi’s generous and extremely helpful offer. “That’s, uh, great.”
With a big of his head, oblivious with Tooru’s internal struggle, Wakatoshi pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it out to Tooru. “Give me your number and I'll text you mine. Let me know what you need.”
Too dumbfounded to say no, Tooru’s hands move on their own accord to comply, and ten minutes later, he is alone with a passel of puppies, a new phone contact, and something bordering on an existential crisis.
The entire Wakatoshi encounter almost doesn't feel real in the following days. However, Tooru is sharply reminded of it when he returns home from volleyball practice to a crate sitting on the front porch. Inside, he finds food for Nana (her favorite kind, no less, though Tooru has no idea how Wakatoshi woukd even know that), training pads, a few soft toys, and a CD.
“What did he leave that for?” Tooru opens the case and finds a note inside.
These are songs that Kenta likes to listen to. The little ones might enjoy them, as well.
Far more intrigued than he cares to admit, Tooru slips the disc into the DVD player in the living room and wheezes in shock when the heavy sounds of rock guitar blare from the surround sound speakers. He swats the front of the machine until it stops playback, and Tooru drops onto the floor gracelessly.
He harrumphs when Nana pads into the living room, tail wagging emphatically while she looks around to find where the sound has gone. “So, apparently, dogs like speed metal,” he says to himself.
Rolling his eyes, he turns down the speakers to a humane level and starts the music back up. Nana listens raptly while Tooru wonders what he knows about anything anymore.
In subsequent days, the care packages keep appearing on the porch. Tooru wonders why Wakatoshi doesn't tell him when he leaves them, only to recall that Wakatoshi’s schedule between college volleyball and national team duties doesn't leave him a lot of time for much of anything.
Remembering the way Nana lapped up Wakatoshi’s attention, Tooru bottles the annoyance he usually associates with Wakatoshi and picks up his phone. Come over and see the kids .
About twenty minutes later comes the reply. Is seven okay? I have practice until 6:30.
Yeah. I’ll convince Nana to not rip your legs off. No promises.
Tooru laughs out loud at Wakatoshi’s reply. I can’t tell if you’re joking, but I’ll risk it. I must think of the children.
He finds himself watching the clock under the guise of doing his homework, waiting for his guest to arrive. When his phone rattles to like, followed quickly by the doorbell, Tooru slaps the cover of his physiology textbook closed and sped to the door.
“If I don’t invite you in, will you be warded off at the door?”
Wakatoshi’s lips purse in thought. “I don’t know what that means,” he says finally.
Tooru snorts. “That’s because you suck.” He does his best not to laugh at his own joke while he shepherds Wakatoshi inside.
When she sees him, Nana shoots to her feet and bounds over to Wakatoshi, and he smiles while he ruffles her ears. “Hello to you too, Nana.”
They follow Nana to the puppies’ current abode in the corner of the living room alongside the stairs, and Tooru drapes himself on the couch while Wakatoshi visits. He doesn’t realize he is nodding off until a hand shakes his shoulder.
Eyelids heavy and barely willing to open, Tooru notices the sun has already gone down, and Nana and company are already tucked in for a nap of their own. Wakatoshi sits on the edge of the kotatsu and gives Tooru a little wave when their gazes meet. “It’s getting late, but I was wondering if you had eaten anything yet.”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Tooru shakes his head. He doesn’t need to see his hair to feel the way it’s sticking straight out, but he doesn’t care and Wakatoshi doesn’t seem to, either.
“Anything in particular you want?” Wakatoshi pulls out his phone and flicks through the contacts. “The ramen place a couple of blocks away is fairly decent, and they deliver.”
Tooru blinks. “Huh? You’re buying me dinner?” When Wakatoshi gives him a shrug, Tooru ducks his head to hide his blush. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m aware.” He dials the number and holds up the phone. “I assume you know what they have. What do you want?”
“Shouyu ramen,” Tooru squeaks, still not willing to look up and acknowledge that he is doing something so utterly normal with his high school nemesis. He certainly doesn’t want to lend credence to the idea that he actually wants to.
While they wait, Tooru’s sister-in-law texts him, asking if he can watch Takeru for a few hours. He glances back and forth between his phone and Wakatoshi, wondering how he should warn his guest that an eleven year old is on the way. He opts for bluntness; somehow he thinks Wakatoshi would appreciate it. “My nephew’s coming over.”
Wakatoshi’s brow knits. “We didn’t order extra.”
Tooru chuckles and shakes his head. “He’s already eaten. My brother and his wife just want a nice date night. He’ll probably just sit and read manga the whole time.”
“Do you need me to leave?” Wakatoshi asks, his entire being earnest.
The strange part to Tooru is that he could easily get rid of Wakatoshi, but he doesn’t actually want to. His past self will laugh at him for a hundred years, but the quiet companionship Wakatoshi has offered is just . . . nice. He means it when he says, “No. Stay.”
And he does. The food and Takeru arrive around the same time, and as promised, Takeru drapes himself on the recliner and flips through Shounen Jump while they eat. Tooru notices more than once that Takeru keep stealing glances at Wakatoshi, his nose wrinkled the way most Oikawa men’s noses do while they think. He doesn’t expect it at all, however, when Takeru blurts, “Tooru, isn’t this the guy you hate?”
Tooru’s throat almost rejects a mouthful of broth, and he treads a fine line while swallowing and breathing. When he manages to do both without dying, Tooru croaks, “Don’t say stuff like that.” He glances over at Wakatoshi, who is graceless enough to be amused. “Don’t look at me like that.”
To Takeru, Wakatoshi says, “Yes, I’m the guy he hates.”
“And you’re hanging out eating dinner why?”
Wakatoshi raises a brow at Tooru. “Yes, Oikawa, please tell your nephew why we’re hanging out.”
Glaring, Tooru crosses his arms and pouts. “I’m being ambushed here.” Yet neither of them seem particularly bothered by the fact, and Wakatoshi even leans over to see what Takeru is reading. His eyes glaze over when the two of them launch into a long-winded discussion about the newest chapters in that issue.
As promised, Takeru starts nodding off after dark, and Tooru tucks him in on the couch while Wakatoshi clears away the remnants of their takeout dinner. They converge on Nana’s bed in the corner, and Wakatoshi sits on the floor to visit the little ones again. They wriggle in reply, and Wakatoshi chuckles. “They’ll be walking in less than a week. Are you prepared for that?”
“That soon?” Tooru blanches. “My dad is going to freak.”
Wakatoshi shrugs. “I can come over and take them out into the yard, if you want. I only have morning practice on the weekends, so as long as I can get some homework done, I can watch them.”
“Sure.” Tooru’s insides scream. He’s agreeing to spend more and more time with his old rival, and the longer he spends in Wakatoshi’s presence, the less that seems to matter.
Once eleven o’clock rolls around, Wakatoshi yawns. “I think it’s time to call it a night. I can come over tomorrow at the same time, and anytime after one this weekend.”
Tooru is too tired to squelch his smile as he says, “That would be great. See you tomorrow, Wakatoshi.”
At the sound of his given name, Tooru swears he sees Wakatoshi’s cheeks turn just a little bit pink even past the resolute bob of his head. When the door closes behind Wakatoshi, Tooru slumps against the wall in the entryway, heart beating just a little bit faster, and slowly slides to the floor. “Oh crap. This is bad.”
He races up the stairs and hammers out a panicked text to Hajime. I think I actually like Ushiwaka, and I don’t know what to do.
The reply is almost instant, and Tooru wishes Hajime had just kept it to himself. It’s a row of laughing emojis, all pointing at Tooru in his moment of crisis and cackling in his face, which is what he imagines his alleged best friend is doing at the moment, as well.
Subsequent visits provide much of the same, with Wakatoshi doting on all the puppies as well as Nana, and he even takes both her and Kenta out on a walk around the neighborhood to give Nana some extended fresh air and peace from her brood.
Tooru finds himself particularly glued to the vision of Wakatoshi returning from one such walk, and halfway up the lawn, the two of them wind their leashes around his ankles and send him toppling into a laughing heap into the grass. Both Nana and Kenta lick his face, and Tooru swallows hard past the lump rising in his throat.
Wakatoshi comes over every available moment once the puppies start walking, with him and Tooru taking turns working on homework on the patio table while the other keeps the little ones at bay in the backyard. As the puppies’ individual features become more distinct, they decide on names for them, as well. Tooru grows especially fond of little Asami, who he is loath to admit to Wakatoshi that she is named after a cartoon character.
This exhausting routine goes on for over a month, and Tooru loves every moment of it. He hasn’t spent this much time with Nana in a long time, and he wonders how he could have forgotten how much joy his faithful canine friend has always brought him. Watching Wakatoshi, Tooru is sure the newest addition to their little makeshift family has never done such a thing.
But when the puppies are eating regular dog food and running around to play with one another, Tooru knows it’s time to have a difficult discussion with his co-parent. He calls Wakatoshi when he’s sure he’s at least on his way home from volleyball, hands shaking from nerves cropping up for a menagerie of reasons. “Wakatoshi, we need to talk.”
“I’m on my way. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“No.” Sighing, Tooru thinks of the difficult decisions they’ll have to make, he amends, “I don’t suppose you can swing by the market and pick up some milk bread. I need some sugary courage today.”
“Consider it done.”
They hang up, and Wakatoshi arrives a few minutes earlier than usual, out of breath, and bearing junk food. Tooru can’t help but mark the concern creasing the corners of his eyes and mouth, and he feels a stab of guilt for sounding so melodramatic on the phone.
“What’s wrong?” Wakatoshi asks, stalking through the house to check on the puppies, who are all asleep on their bed. “They seem fine. Is it Nana?”
Tooru shakes his head and lets out a wry laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just —” He exhales heavily and closes his eyes, dropping heavily onto the couch. “It’s time.”
Wakatoshi takes the seat next to him and hums. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Three of the puppies run up and paw at the legs of Wakatoshi’s jeans, and he gently pets each one of them in turn. “I forgot how quickly puppies grow up. I’ll miss them being this small.”
“So will I.” Tooru sends Wakatoshi a tight smile. “Any ideas on where we can home these guys? Iwa-chan’s interested in Aki and I want to keep Asami. That leaves Eiji, Toshi, and Kimi.”
Drumming his fingers on his thigh, Wakatoshi says, “I think I’ve got my mother talked into the idea of another dog. She is partial to Kimi, as long as she gets spayed as soon as possible.”
“Well, she can make the trip with Nana and Asami,” Tooru agrees. “I don’t know how many more surprise puppies I can deal with. I just want to keep them all.”
“I know the feeling.” Wakatoshi picks up Eiji, who is slightly cross-eyed and entirely endearing. “Satori has always wanted a dog. I think he would like Eiji.”
Tooru’s face pinches. “Isn’t that the weird guy from your high school team?” When Wakatoshi affirms, Tooru chuckles. “That’s not someone I’d ever picture you befriending, but as long as you can vouch for him being a good puppy dad, I’m okay with it.”
After some intense discussion, they both agree that Toshi’s forever home could be either with Wakatoshi’s friend Reon or the neighbor two doors down who always waves at the puppies when she walks by the house and they’re out in the yard.
Over the next couple of weeks, the little ones get started on their brand new lives, until only Asami and Kimi remain, still awaiting their trip to the vet scheduled for the next day. After that, Kimi will go home with Wakatoshi, and the regular visits will cease.
And Tooru isn’t sure he likes that at all.
Wakatoshi accompanies Tooru to the vet’s office, corralling the dogs in the backseat while Tooru drives. It’s pains him to leave the three of them behind for major surgery, after which they’re scheduled to be kept overnight, but Wakatoshi puts a warm hand on his shoulder and the burden seems a little bit lighter.
They meander to a nearby restaurant, where Tooru orders food he can barely eat. Wakatoshi’s appetite seems undiminished, which Tooru envies. “How is this not killing you?”
Pausing mid-bite, Wakatoshi lowers his chopsticks and shrugs. “I fail to see how starving yourself will change the situation. The best we can do now is check up on them now and again in their new homes to make sure they’re being treated well.”
“Right.” Tooru coaxes a little bit more of his lunch into his stomach, and they head straight back to their neighborhood.
They find themselves standing on Tooru’s front porch, staring at each other without actually going inside. Tooru bites his lip and looks away, stomach in knots at the prospect of their regular babysitting sessions coming to an end. His attention snaps back to life, however, when he hears the sound of his name — his given name.
“I think I know the answer,” Wakatoshi says softly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, “but if it’s all right with you, I would like it very much if we kept in contact. I rather enjoy your company.”
“I —” Tooru chokes, face beet red and his palms sweating. “Yeah.” He reaches out and takes one of Wakatoshi’s anxiously flexing hands and slots their fingers together, giving a light squeeze. “I think we should.”
Wakatoshi’s eyes widen when Tooru does the same with their other hands. Their faces are close enough for their breath to mingle, and Tooru doesn’t bother fighting the urge to lean in a little closer and let their mouths brush together in the barest hint of a kiss.
He sends Wakatoshi a crooked grin and says, “We definitely should.”
As he bids Tooru a clumsy goodbye, his demeanor deliciously awkward, Wakatoshi nearly trips down the porch steps on his way out of the Oikawa family yard. Tooru waves at his departing figure, the rest of him buoyed by the fact that this isn’t the end; in fact, it’s only the beginning.