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Wakatoshi was not prepared for the wall of noise that hit him when he walked into his son Tsutomu’s classroom to collect him after his first ever day of school. He wasn’t prepared for the box of chocolate milk launched into his face by a child tripping over her own feet, either, but parenthood never stopped churning up the unexpected.
A man around his own age who Wakatoshi assumed was the teacher bustled across the room to help the child up, who looked ready to cry at any moment. Kneeling next to the little girl, whose knees were red from landing hard on them, the probably-teacher murmured, “Now Mimi-chan, if you go hurting yourself, you won’t get to have fun with the rest of the class tomorrow. Promise you’ll watch where you’re going next time?”
Mimi gave him a solemn nod and fetched some paper towels to clean up the mess. Once she started on that, the teacher turned to Wakatoshi and groaned, “I’m so sorry.” He offered a hand and said, “Iwaizumi Hajime, and I’m the ringleader of this particular circus.”
“Ushijima Wakatoshi.”
Hajime grinned and gave his hand a firm squeeze. “Ah, then little Tsutomu-chan is yours, I take it.” His eyes fell to the mess streaked down the side of Wakatoshi’s face and the front of his polo shirt and groaned. He whipped out a package of wet wipes from his suit pocket, immediately moving to dash away the sticky liquid from the front of Wakatoshi’s shirt. “She got you good, didn’t she?”
Wakatoshi chortled. “She did indeed.” He opened his mouth to comment that he was quite capable of cleaning himself up, but when he saw the way Hajime’s nose scrunched in concentration and the tip of his tongue poked through his lips as he worked, Wakatoshi’s jaw snapped shut.
There was no denying that Tsutomu’s teacher was definitely attractive, nor that Wakatoshi was susceptible to that warm brand of earnest charm. If they weren’t in the middle of a sea of children and Wakatoshi was sure Hajime weren’t already taken let alone his type, he might even have done something about it.
Instead, he allowed Hajime to finish his little chore and gave a prompt ‘thank you’ once it was finished.
Hajime crossed his arms and looked out over the classroom next to Wakatoshi. “You’re the first dad I’ve had come in today. It’s mostly been moms and grandparents.”
It was a story Wakatoshi knew all too well. Every type of parent/child function he had ever attended was predominantly mother/child with a few fathers sprinkled here and there. “You’ll probably meet Tsutomu’s mother next week. We alternate.”
Eyes strayed down to Wakatoshi’s left hand, which hadn’t had a wedding ring on it even when he had still been married after damaging two of them sheerly due to the need to use his hand for everyday things. “Sorry, Ushijima-san. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Wakatoshi shook his head. “You didn’t. It is what it is.”
“Oh, good.” Hajime gave him a sheepish smile. “I never have a problem talking to kids. It’s the adults I’m awkward around.”
“I can relate.” Wakatoshi noticed that Tsutomu had spotted him from the other side of the room, where he was playing with a redheaded boy with a crooked bowl cut. He braced himself as Tsutomu careened over to him and clamped his arms around Wakatoshi’s leg. “Did you have a good day?”
Tsutomu nodded and waved over his shoulder at Bowl Cut-kun. “Yeah, that’s my new friend, Satori. I told him you were a volleyball player and that I want to be one too. He thinks that’s so cool.”
Hajime’s brow raised. “Volleyball? Do you play professionally?”
“Yes.” Wakatoshi ruffled Tsutomu’s hair before hoisting his son onto his hip. “I enjoyed meeting you, Iwaizumi-sensei. Thank you for taking care of my wayward child.”
Hajime’s hand and Tsutomu’s smaller one met for a high five. “The pleasure was all mine. I hope I’ll get to catch up with you again soon. It’s nice talking to someone who doesn’t go from zero to scream in five seconds or less.”
“Agreed.” Wakatoshi nodded at Hajime before heading for the door. As he buckled Tsutomu into his car seat, he thought that he might be finding an excuse or two to visit his son’s classroom.
Being attracted to men was nothing new to him, but Wakatoshi had never acted on that attraction before. He wasn’t sure if anything would come of it if he tried, but Hajime’s ring finger had been bare, too, so it wasn’t impossible.
One thing he did know, however, was that for the first time in a while, the long-empty complimentary seat ticket to his matches next to Tsutomu’s might find themselves an owner after all.