Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a night like any other. At least, it was a night like any other.

Kojiro and Kaoru are at Sia la luce after closing, winding down at the end of the day. They follow the same routine most nights. Kaoru settles himself at the counter (but not before he’s plugged Carla in to charge), then comes their usual back and forth bickering, and finally Kojiro places the meal he’s made for Kaoru in front of him (but not before he complains about Kaoru being a cheapskate.)

The dynamic of their friendship probably seems strange to those on the outside, but after two and a half decades they both understand there is no bad blood between them despite appearances.

It’s currently not long after 11PM on a Friday evening, and they’re well into their nightly rhythm now, finding solace in each other’s company after a hard working week for them both. Kaoru is nursing his second glass of wine; Kojiro is behind the counter, leaning up against the worktop behind him, towelling off remaining water spots on the dishes that have just come out of the dishwasher before putting them away.

“It’s not a meeting I’m particularly looking forward to,” Kaoru is saying, complaining about a client who contacted him five minutes before the end of his shift today requesting a last minute appointment the next morning. “Especially not when I intended on a much needed lie-in tomorrow.”

“So, cancel it,” Kojiro replies, putting away the last few dishes. He reaches for his own glass of wine when he’s done. “You control your own work, you don’t need to please every single person requesting a commission.”

“Maybe not,” Kaoru sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “But it is in my best interest to please a client this prestigious.”

“He can’t be that important,” Kojiro says and then downs his remaining wine before picking up the already opened bottle and refilling his glass. He reaches over to top up Kaoru’s.

“Unfortunately for me, this client is,” Kaoru lifts his glass to make it easier for Kojiro to reach. “His agency is connected to a large number of businesses in the area, and his opinions could mean the world of difference.”

“I stand corrected,” Kojiro rolls his eyes, not sure why he even bothered trying to convince Kaoru of anything different. “I guess he is important.”

Kaoru sighs again, bringing his glass to his lips. “Networking is the bane of my existence,” he says against the rim before taking a sip.

Kojiro chuckles lightly at his exasperated friend, shaking his head. The conversation has come to its natural end and so they fall into a companionable silence. Kaoru picks up his phone to make notes for the meeting tomorrow; Kojiro makes his way around the counter to start clearing the unattended tables, starting on his usual closing routine.

“Do you have any plans after the meeting?” Kojiro pipes up after about ten minutes, while he’s finishing up clearing the last table.

“No,” Kaoru replies, putting his phone face down on the counter. “Other than the aforementioned need to catch up on sleep. Although whether or not I’ll find the urge to nap after dealing with this insufferable client is another question.”

Kojiro chuckles again. “Guess you’ll have to have an early night tomorrow instead.”

“Not likely a possibility,” Kaoru says, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

“Ah,” Kojiro is behind the counter again, having made his way over to retrieve a broom. “You still having trouble with—” he stops. He could have sworn he heard a quiet knocking sound, but he’s not sure if it was a noise he created while going about his business. He lets a few moments pass, but there’s no further sound.

“Kojiro?”

“Sorry,” Kojiro smiles sheepishly. “Thought I heard someone knocking.”

Kaoru hums. “Must have just been your last brain cell rattling around.”

“Hilarious,” Kojiro deadpans, and begins sweeping the floor. He starts by Kaoru’s feet so that he can purposefully knock into him while he’s cleaning.

“What, no retort?” Kaoru asks, glaring at Kojiro when he realises what he’s doing with the broom. Kojiro smirks smugly at him, before moving away to continue on the rest of the floor. “Now I’m convinced you’re on your last brain cell. Must be your old age.”

“Hey, I’m not that much ol—” Kojiro stops what he’s doing again and looks towards the front door.

“You’re definitely going senile, you’ve forgotten how to finish a sentence,” Kaoru laughs, turning in his seat to face Kojiro who has stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s wr—”

“Shh,” Kojiro requests, resting the broom up against the nearest table. “I can definitely hear something.” He walks towards the door. He’s slow in his moments, trying to determine the source of the noises. It sounds like a few dull thuds—maybe stones—and some slight murmuring.

Kaoru huffs and finishes off his wine. By the time his glass is empty, Kojiro is unlocking the front door and Kaoru decides to follow him to the front, out of curiosity.

Kojiro opens the door and looks around into the quiet street, frowning. It’s empty of life, no person in sight; the few other shops and restaurants located on the same street having long been closed by this time. He does hear some slight rustling, but it’s the small cooing noise that brings his attention downwards to the wicker basket left on the doorstep of Sia la luce. He slowly squats down so that he is closer to the baby occupying the basket.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he says, his voice quiet so as not to disturb the little one. He reaches his arm over and grasps a tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. “Where did you come from?”

The baby coos in response, shuffling a bit but barely able to open its eyes. Kojiro stays still for a moment, intently watching the baby. He remembers when his nieces and nephews were this small. This baby can’t possibly be more than a few days old, he thinks.

“Let’s get you out of the cold,” Kojiro whispers, smiling gently as he picks up the basket and heads back indoors. He softly closes the door behind him and when he turns back into the restaurant, Kaoru is much closer to him leaning up against a nearby table.

“What’s—” Kaoru’s eyes widen when he sees the baby. “Uh, where did that come from?”

“How the hell would I know? I have as much information as you have. And don’t say ‘that’ like that,” Kojiro snaps at Kaoru, placing the basket down onto the nearest table.

“Like what?” Kaoru snaps back.

“Like it’s some sort of alien,” Kojiro can see the baby a little clearer now that he’s inside the lit restaurant. It’s wrapped in a baby pink coloured blanket—presumably a girl, then. She’s fussing slightly where she lies, but doesn’t seem to be fully awake. Kojiro reaches up and gently runs his fingers over the thin layer of green hair sitting on top of her head and he smiles fondly.

Kaoru has moved to stand behind Kojiro now, looking down at the baby too. “Where are its parents?”

Kojiro moves his hand from the top of the baby’s head to the folded up piece of paper that he just noticed was nestled between her right side and the basket. On the front, in big capital letters, it simply reads:

JOE.

He huffs out a small laugh. “Call it a hunch, but I think—maybe—I might be one of her parents.”

Kaoru snatches the paper from Kojiro’s hand, keeping it where it’s visible by them both, and opens it to read the inside.

‘Joe, I’m sorry.

I didn’t know what else to do.

I have no one else for help and nowhere else to go.

I thought I could do this, but I can’t.

She’s yours. Take care of her.’

That’s it. No names, no identification, nothing. Both men stare at the paper in disbelief for what seems like the longest time until the baby starts fussing again, seemingly on the verge of waking and crying.

Kojiro instinctively scoops her up into his arms, whispering affirmations of ‘hush’, ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I’ve got you.’ He’s held his nieces and nephews enough times that this is easy; his arms falling into a v-shape, supporting her head, gently swaying back and forth, the baby looking incredibly tiny in his strong arms.

The disbelief is still evident on Kaoru’s face for a moment as he watches Kojiro casually cradle her, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to pick up an unknown child that had been left unattended on the street. He shakes his head slightly, trying to snap himself back to reality.

“I need more wine,” Kaoru mumbles, making his way back over to the counter to help himself.

After Kaoru has poured himself another glass, he turns back to face Kojiro, watching the scene unfold before him. Still in shock, he takes a large gulp. Kojiro is seemingly lost to the world around him, his eyes never moving from her, still swaying gently.

“Whose is she?” Kaoru eventually asks, breaking Kojiro’s concentration as he looks up to answer.

“Mine, I guess.”

“No,” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean—who’s the mother?”

“Oh,” Kojiro’s brows furrow. “Actually, I don’t know.”

The words hit Kaoru like a freight train, and he’s suddenly very aware of how ridiculous—and serious—this situation is. “You don’t—” he’s about to snap at Kojiro but reins himself in. “Okay,” he takes a breath and tries again. “Surely you can recall the name of a woman that you slept with nine months ago?”

“Uh,” Kojiro thinks for a moment, brows still furrowed.

“Are you serious?!” Kaoru shouts, unable to contain himself. The baby lets out a wail.

“Not so loud!” Kojiro angrily whisper-shouts. He sways a little more prominently, attempting to hush the baby, and Kaoru mumbles an apology so quiet that Kojiro doesn’t even hear it.

Once she has quietened down, Kaoru picks up where he left off; the anger at his friend’s stupidity getting the better of him. “Is it that you don’t bother to learn the name of your cohorts, or that you wet your dick with so many of them that your tiny brain simply can’t remember?”

“Oh, come on, Kaoru,” Kojiro snaps, albeit quietly. “That’s not fair,” he almost whispers.

“Isn’t it?” Kaoru asks, incredulous. “You are literally standing in your restaurant holding a baby that might be yours, that you didn’t know about until ten minutes ago, and you have no inclination who the mother might be or who left her here? Any normal person would be able to name who they’d slept with in the last year—and yet, you can’t. Even the mother of this child hasn’t slept around enough that she didn’t not know who the father was, and brought her to you. Where, exactly, am I being unfair?”

Kojiro can’t help but flinch at Kaoru’s words; despite their usual bickering, on the surface this feels harsher than normal. But after a few moments of mulling it over, Kojiro realises that Kaoru is only concerned and over-analysing the situation, not attacking his character. Kaoru returns to drinking his wine to calm down; Kojiro continues to stand there, baby in arms, thinking.

He knows he’s never made the best decisions regarding his love life. Sure, he was always careful about wearing protection, and—in his more recent years—about protecting himself from commitment. It’s not that he doesn’t want a family; he’s always considered himself to be family oriented. Taking pride in being a loyal son, protective brother, fun uncle, and more recently a father figure to the younger skaters at S.

The string of faceless women and one night stands were not where he’d intended on ending up. He always tried to be considerate and affectionate when it came to sexual partners, his caring nature shining through; but it wasn’t his idea of a fulfilling love life. Kojiro always wanted a family of his own and these women were just passing through, with no intention of staying.

And, honestly, Kojiro couldn’t deny that he’d sought that out for himself; having long given up that a family of his own was a possibility for him. Of course, he was only in his late twenties, but in his later teenage years he realised there was no person that fit so perfectly in his life as much as Kaoru did—does.

He’d had plenty of girlfriends in the past who were threatened by Kaoru’s presence in his life—who all, ultimately, left; knowing they couldn’t compete and not wanting to settle for second place. There were other girlfriends who he thought he could settle down with. But that would mean no late nights at Sia la luce, with a bottle of wine and his best friend for company. No nights at S challenging the infamous AI skater Cherry Blossom to a beef, or watching with silent pride as Cherry took down another challenger. No impromptu trips across the globe, trying new delicacies or attending art galleries, pretending it was for research but in reality was only a distraction from everyone back home in Okinawa. Everyone except each other—as it always had been.

No, Kojiro realised a long time ago that these were things he was never willing to part with for anyone. Kaoru’s place in his life was inevitable. He’d dug his heels in from the age of three, and god forbid he would leave.

Kojiro smiles fondly to himself thinking about his best friend’s resolve. If there was ever a situation that arose that would mean Kaoru’s position as ‘number one’ in his life was threatened, well, he wouldn’t leave without a fight. Not that Kojiro would ever let it get to that point; he’d never known a life without Kaoru, and he didn’t intend on learning what that was like.

And the fleeting moments of butterflies he felt when Kaoru walked through the door of Sia la luce on an evening, or the way his heart fell out of his chest watching Cherry take a fall when skating, or even when he woke up in the middle of the night—hot, horny, and confused—wondering why he was having a wet dream about his best friend… If those moments had anything to do with why Kojiro didn’t want to lose Kaoru? Well, he wouldn’t admit that to himself, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind and continuing on as they always had done, not wanting to risk what they have.

So, here he was, in his late twenties with no intention of settling down—despite wanting a family of his own—content with what he currently has, and determined to keep it that way.

Yet by some curious turn of events (bad decision making on his part, Kojiro thinks idly) he’s now standing in his restaurant, smiling fondly down at the bundle in his arms. He realises this is the most irresponsible he’s ever been, which is saying a lot, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. And, at the very least, he doesn’t have to figure this out alone.

“Wait,” Kojiro says finally; looking up at Kaoru who’d returned to sitting at the counter, his seat facing Kojiro, with a newly opened bottle of wine. “You said ‘might’ be mine. Do you think she’s not?”

Kaoru clears his throat. “You can’t know for certain without a paternity test. Are you just going to blindly trust a piece of paper written by a clearly unhinged woman who left her newborn baby on the doorstep of a random Italian restaurant?”

“But,” Kojiro protests lightly. “Her hair…”

“You’re surely not the only man with green hair, Kojiro. I know you’re stupid, but don’t be stupid,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes.

“Okay,” Kojiro says, lowering her back carefully into the basket. As much as he wants to hold her forever, he reluctantly decides that she should have some sleep now that he’s swayed her to sleep. “Kaoru, I need help.”

“You’re telling me,” Kaoru snorts. “You should probably see a sex therapist to deal with your obviously debilitating addiction to fornication.”

Kojiro huffs out a laugh, relaxing slightly now that Kaoru seems to have somewhat recovered from his earlier bout of anger.

“I mean with the baby, four eyes.”

Kojiro pulls out a chair and sits down, staying close to the table that his (potential) daughter is placed on. He groans and rests his head in his hands.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Kojiro asks, a little desperately. “How do I go about getting a paternity test? What if she is mine? I wasn’t prepared for a baby, do I even have space for her in my apartment? Is a tiny apartment above a restaurant even a safe place to raise a baby—should I move? Where am I gonna get the money to move? Where am I gonna get the money to even raise a child? Oh my god, how am I gonna explain this to my parents? Other than telling them I’m an idiot, like you probably would, but maybe you’re right and I am an idiot—”

Kaoru remains where he is, sitting at the counter, letting the brevity of the situation finally catch up to Kojiro. He pours more wine into his glass, then reaches over the counter and tops up Kojiro’s glass from earlier. Finally, he stands and walks over to Kojiro—who is still rattling off a million panicked questions—and Kaoru hands him his glass. It’s gratefully accepted by Kojiro, who then subsequently downs the full thing when he takes a breath from his moment of panic.

“Are you done?” Kaoru asks and Kojiro nods. Kaoru pulls out another chair and sits down near him, taking a deep breath before he says “I think we need to contact social services—”

“Wait, no,” Kojiro pales. “I don’t want—”

Kaoru raises his hand to interrupt Kojiro. “I think we need to contact social services to let them know the situation and get advice for our next steps.”

Kojiro lightly smiles at the use of the word ‘our.’ Kaoru realises he’s said it too, but he clears his throat and continues, rather than dwelling on it.

“There must be some sort of legal process when a baby is born, regardless of the unusual circumstances,” Kaoru gestures his arm towards the basket. “You can’t expect that you would just pick up a baby off the street and keep it. She’s not a stray animal, Kojiro. Her birth needs to be registered, so there must be other things to consider as well. Neither of us are well-versed in the legalities of the system, so we need to contact someone for help. If—” Kaoru hesitates, knowing the next words out of his mouth make the situation seem very final. “If you intend to raise this baby, then you should at least do it right.”

Kojiro lifts his head to meet Kaoru’s gaze, and despite all the many thoughts running through his mind at this moment, he noticed that Kaoru had reverted back to using the word ‘you’ rather than ‘our.’

“Right,” Kojiro repeats, slowly. “You’re right,” he confirms. “Okay, yeah. Social services. Right,” his mind wanders off momentarily, and then “you’re gonna help me, right?” It sounds slightly desperate, his voice almost a whisper, but he needs to know the answer.

Kaoru smiles gently at him. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s a smile Kojiro recognises as Kaoru being empathetic and caring. “Of course,” Kaoru says, placing a hand on Kojiro’s shoulder in reassurance. “We’ll figure out what we—” he clears his throat again. “—what you need to do.”

Kojiro returns Kaoru’s gesture with a fond smile of his own, before returning his gaze to the baby girl next to him. He reaches over and rests a large hand softly atop her. One thing he already knows for certain is that he will do anything to protect this child.

While he’s watching her, he can feel Kaoru gently squeeze his shoulder from where his hand is still placed. A small tear wells up in the corner of Kojiro’s eye. Another thing he knows for certain? Kaoru will be beside him—supporting him—as always.

Chapter Text

It’s now almost 12:50AM. Kojiro and Kaoru are alone in the Okinawa Central Hospital waiting room. Kaoru is perched on the seat nearest the door, while Kojiro paces. He has a look of worry lingering on his face as he walks around the small area, and Kaoru is attributing the worry to the information given to them half an hour ago by the social services caseworker.

Kaoru had been the one to speak to her, Nakano Sayuri, on the phone just before midnight. He asked Carla to find contact details for social services, and she located a 24/7 helpline number. Kojiro wanted to wait until morning, fully intending to attack the situation head on but with a fresh mind. However, Kaoru insisted that they do it now—after all, they were not prepared for this, and the responsibility of another human life was in their hands. Kojiro begrudgingly agreed, unable to argue with Kaoru’s reasoning.

After Kaoru explained everything to Nakano over the phone, as best he could given the lack of information at his disposal, she asked them to bring the baby and meet her at the hospital. They drank some coffee to try and dull the effects of the alcohol and to sober up, but it had still taken them a little longer to get to the hospital than Kaoru hoped it would. They didn’t have anything suitable to transport the baby in, and god forbid Kojiro would let Kaoru drive anything more than 10 miles-per-hour while she was unrestrained in the basket. So, with the basket and baby placed firmly at Kojiro’s steady side in the back seat of Kaoru’s van, they made their way to the hospital at a glacial pace.

When they arrived, Nakano explained to them that she’d contacted as many hospitals in the area as she could; relaying the circumstances in the hope that someone, somewhere would be able to shed some light—maybe they would be able to trace an unaccounted for, lone woman who had given birth recently. But without a name, or image description, all hope for locating anything further was gone. They had to assume the baby wasn’t born in a hospital, and the nurses would need to do some standard tests and checks to make sure she was healthy.

As it was being explained to them, a nurse came to take the baby from a very reluctant Kojiro, and then another nurse shooed him into a different room for a paternity test. Upon returning to the waiting room, he immediately tried to find out more information from Nakano, or to at least understand what would happen next. She was clearly hesitant to say too much, in case Kojiro wasn’t the father, attempting to manage his expectations. But with a bit of persuading from Kaoru, the two men had managed to determine that in the case Kojiro was her father, he’d have the choice of keeping the baby or admitting her into foster care. Kojiro was very clear about his contempt for the latter choice.

If he wasn’t her father, however, then he would have no choice. Foster care was the imminent option, with potential for adoption—something that wasn’t open to Kojiro, because by the time he’d gotten through the adoption process, this particular baby may not be ‘available’. Kaoru watched silently as Kojiro clenched his fists when Nakano explained that to him, knowing his best friend was angry at the suggestion that this baby was an object to be bought off a shelf, and not a human being. But Kojiro didn’t argue, and after Nakano had left them alone to do paperwork of her own, he began pacing the waiting room as a way to exert his emotions.

Kaoru knew from the minute Kojiro laid eyes on the baby that he wasn’t going to settle for anything less than full responsibility—even though he didn’t voice the thought, even though he panicked briefly at the restaurant—Kaoru knew Kojiro, and he knew there was no other option for him than to raise her. That was confirmed when Kojiro immediately shot down the foster care suggestion the second it was presented to him. And now, even though it had been less than two hours since the moment the tiny, green-haired baby was welcomed into the warmth of Sia la luce, Nakano presented them with a possibility that Kojiro might not even get to have a choice.

So, Kaoru let him pace. There was nothing he could say, anyway, that would make the situation better. And although not enough time had passed for it to really sink in that Kojiro could be someone’s father, he still felt sick at the thought that it might be taken away from Kojiro as quickly as it was given to him.

Eventually, Kojiro lets out a big sigh, and sits down next to Kaoru, crossing his arms and resting his head back against the wall behind him. Kaoru can feel the tension radiating off Kojiro, and is desperate to relieve some of it and to comfort him, but part of him feels guilty—he suggested they ring social services, he made them deal with it immediately. So, he stays silent, eyes remaining on the wall in front of him, trying to prevent his anxiety rising by focusing on his breathing.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Kojiro mumbles, sullenly.

“What?” Kaoru snaps around to face Kojiro, whose head is still resting on the wall.

“I mean, she’s probably better off without me, y’know?” Kojiro lifts his head off the wall and looks down into his lap. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a dad.”

“I disagree,” Kaoru’s voice is so definitively sure, that it clearly catches Kojiro off guard, if the look of surprise evident on his face when he meets Kaoru’s gaze is anything to go by. “There is no one I know that is more capable of being a parent than you are. If you are her father, then she will be the most fortunate child in the world to have you.”

Kojiro’s eyebrows knit together in slight confusion, but a fond smile tugs at the corner of his lips regardless. “You really think so?” The surprise in his question seems genuine.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” Kaoru’s firm voice holds strong. He’s not used to saying genuinely caring things to Kojiro, his comfort always usually lying in name calling and witty retorts; but he needs Kojiro to know this much at least, so the words are easy for him to say.

Kojiro’s features soften at Kaoru’s words. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he laughs, and Kaoru thinks—not for the first time in his life—that Kojiro can read his mind. “Thanks, Kaoru.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Kaoru scoffs and crosses his arms, breaking eye contact.

He hears, feels, a low chuckle come from Kojiro, and he’s expecting a retaliation when Nakano returns to the waiting room, nurse beside her.

Kojiro is immediately on his feet, and Kaoru follows; slower, and with less purpose. He lets Kojiro take the lead as he walks closer to the two women, staying one step behind him the entire time.

“She’s perfectly healthy,” the nurse starts, smiling at Kojiro. “Weighing in at around 7.5 pounds, which is average, so there’s no concerns there. And we’re going to record her birth as today’s date, June 18th, since we can’t know for certain the time or date she was born.”

“That’s great,” Kojiro replies, smiling in relief. “At least she’s healthy.”

“And the paternity test?” Kaoru pipes up, from behind Kojiro.

The nurses eyes meet Kaoru’s briefly, smile faltering, before returning her gaze to Kojiro. “Of course,” the smile fully resumed on her face. “Congratulations,” she starts. “She’s all yours.”

The room goes silent for a moment, and Kaoru thinks that time itself might have stopped, but then he hears Kojiro let out a shaky breath and watches as the tension releases from his shoulders.

“I’m—” Kojiro’s voice cracks, then. “Can I—can I see her?” His voice is still shaky, but the sound of relief is overwhelming. And although Kaoru hoped for this result, for Kojiro’s sake, there’s an unusual, harsh feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m going to let nurse Tanaka take you to her, while I finish up the paperwork now that we have more information,” Nakano quickly interrupts to add. “Then I’ll be in to discuss a few further things before you leave.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Kojiro clearly isn’t sure what to say to her, but regardless, with his response she turns on her heels and leaves the waiting room. “So,” he turns back to nurse Tanaka.

“Let me take you to her,” she quickly says before he asks again, smiling as she turns around to show him the way, and he blindly follows. Kaoru, unsure what to do in this moment which he feels so distinctly not a part of, follows a few steps behind Kojiro anyway—his feet moving of their own accord.

Nurse Tanaka leads Kojiro into a room with only a hospital crib in the middle, occupied by Kojiro’s daughter. Kaoru stands awkwardly in the doorway, not really feeling permitted to enter, unsure if he’s welcome. He watches silently while one of Kojiro’s hands instinctively reaches into the crib for his daughter, holding on to one of her tiny hands between his thumb and forefinger. Even from this distance, Kaoru can see the tears that are now threatening to fall, glistening at the corners of Kojiro’s eyes.

“Can I hold her?” Kojiro’s voice is small, and slightly wet, when he looks up at the nurse.

Nurse Tanaka had already started lifting the baby out of the crib, wordlessly answering Kojiro’s question, and she walks around to place the baby into his arms. “Congratulations, again,” she smiles up at him. “I’ll let you have some alone time with her,” and with that she’s on her way out of the room, squeezing past Kaoru who is frozen in place, lingering in the doorway.

His eyes are glued to the scene before him; Kojiro cradling his daughter, smiling down at her with an expression so affectionate that Kaoru swears his heart almost stops at the sight.

It’s only been a couple of hours since this whole ordeal started, but Kaoru still feels as though he’s in a daze and he can’t figure out how to snap out of it. Kojiro has a daughter, he’s someone’s father; there is another human life that Kojiro is responsible for, and it’s permanent.

Kaoru always thought that if this were going to happen, he’d—at the very least—have nine months to ready himself. But he hasn’t had that, and as he stands here now, watching Kojiro with her, he can’t help but feel like an outsider. Like he’s watching something so private, and so not meant for him.

A heavy feeling settles in his chest, and he immediately resents himself for it, willing it to go away. Sure, he thought this would be inevitable eventually—he genuinely meant what he said earlier about Kojiro being the most capable person he knows to be a parent—but he really thought he had more time. This shouldn’t have happened so soon, Kojiro wasn’t even in a relationship. This morning he was just Kaoru’s single, albeit promiscuous, lifelong friend; but now, now this.

He almost laughs out loud as he realises that part of himself thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be fortunate enough that this would happen with him. That the child Kojiro would hold in his arms one day would be theirs, and that they would be sharing this moment together, as a family. He always thought it might be a long shot; but for as long as he could remember, there had always been that element of ‘what if’. At least for him, there had been.

Kaoru spent countless, sleepless nights lying awake in bed; his mind combing through the seemingly endless memories of lingering glances and touches, the private moments that only they seemed to share with each other and no one else, the way they would always find their way back to each other, no matter what. And as he would lie awake on those nights, he could convince himself that there was something there, and that tomorrow he would do something about it. But tomorrow always came, and something always prevented him. Whether it had been jealousy, anger, pride, or just the fact that he would spend too long looking into Kojiro’s tender eyes and find himself breathless.

And now, right in front of him, was another prevention; and Kaoru mentally cursed himself, a potential future with Kojiro feeling further from his grasp. Although, despite the fact that he couldn’t tear his eyes away, despite the fact that he had a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow—seeing Kojiro hold his daughter with this newfound look of wonderment, he couldn’t help but think that this suited him. It suited him more than the chefs uniform, or the skateboard, and the world had never looked so right.

Kaoru tries to force his gaze away, only just now noticing that the brims of his eyes are wet with unshed tears, too. He turns quietly, intending to make his way out of the room—wanting to give Kojiro some privacy, but also to gather his own thoughts—but as soon as he has his back to Kojiro, a voice stops him.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro calls after him so softly, and Kaoru thinks he can hear the affection seeping through. Whether it was meant for his new daughter, or for him, he doesn’t know. Kaoru looks back over his shoulder to Kojiro, prompting him to go on. “You can come over here, y’know. She won’t bite.”

Kaoru snorts. “Well, we can’t be too sure about that. She is yours, after all,” he’s facing Kojiro again. “We don’t know how much of her is human, and how much is gorilla.”

A small laugh rumbles through Kojiro, and Kaoru’s feet are moving of their own accord again, carrying him to stand in front of Kojiro and baby before he’s even registered the movement.

“Do you want to hold her?” Kojiro asks him when he gets there, and Kaoru idly thinks that he can’t quite remember the last time he felt happiness of this calibre radiating from Kojiro.

“I, uh,” Kaoru tries to take a breath, but this is one of those moments when he can’t quite catch it, looking up into Kojiro’s auburn eyes. “It’s okay, Koji,” he says, finally. “This is your moment,” his voice is barely a whisper when the words come out.

“I want you to hold her,” Kojiro replies, so definitive and final that any other person might be intimidated, but Kaoru recognises Kojiro’s determination—after all, it’s one of his more admirable traits.

Kaoru shuffles his feet a bit, visibly uncomfortable. “I can’t—”

“Kaoru,” Kojiro meets Kaoru’s gaze and refuses to let go. “Please.”

“Why do you want me to hold her?” Kaoru asks, quiet, and he’s not sure he’s ever sounded this small before.

“It’s important to me. This isn’t just any baby, Kaoru. It’s my baby. She’s mine,” Kojiro’s voice cracks again saying it out loud, realisation seems to hit him hard every time the words are spoken. “Please.”

Kaoru clears his throat. “I’ve, uh, I’ve never held a baby—”

“What?”

“I’ve never—”

“No, I heard you, but—what?! You were there when all of my nieces and nephews were born.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t hold them,” Kaoru counters.

“Sure you did—” Kojiro frowns, thinking back. “Wait, you didn’t?”

“Never when they were this… new,” Kaoru gestures with his hand, down at the bundle Kojiro is currently cradling.

“Okay, well, never mind that,” Kojiro huffs out a small laugh. “Hold out your arms, kind of like how I am.”

“Wait, no,” Kaoru panics. “What if I hurt her, or drop her?”

Kojiro chuckles. “You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me,” Kojiro laughs again, and he shifts his daughter so she’s being fully supported by only one of his large, strong arms, giving Kojiro a spare hand to help manoeuvre Kaoru’s arms into a good position.

Once he’s satisfied, he gathers his daughter and moves her slowly over to Kaoru. “Just make sure you support her head,” he says, his big hand remaining under her head before he’s finished transferring her into the smaller man’s arms.

Kaoru’s breath catches in his throat again, and the pit in his stomach has shifted to a different feeling entirely. As he looks down her, he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, and he thinks for a second time that night that the world has never looked so right. She is the most captivating sight Kaoru has ever seen, and he realises now that he is fucked because not only is Kojiro capable of turning his world upside down—now, she’s here, and now, there’s two of them wielding his heart. Except, he thinks, for her, he would definitely kill a man.

“Kojiro,” he starts firm, but as he looks up into Kojiro’s eyes he’s met with a look of amazement that he’s never seen before, and he almost suffocates from how intensely fond it is. He looks back down at her to stabilise himself. “If you don’t do everything right by this child, I’ll kill you,” it wasn’t as strong as he started out, but his point was clear, at least.

Kojiro chuckles again. “Well, you’re just gonna have to stay and keep an eye on me, then,” and Kaoru is now convinced he’s in an alternate reality.

He’s not sure how much more time passes since he’s been holding and watching her, and while he thinks he could look at her forever, he bridges the silence that has fallen upon the room anyway. “What are you going to call her?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Kojiro hums. “I’ve always liked Youko for a girl’s name.”

Kaoru scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Kojiro acts offended, but Kaoru knows he’s not.

“Don’t you remember Youko from elementary school?” Kaoru pouts. “She used to put bugs in my hair.”

Kojiro laughs. “Okay, how about—” he thinks briefly. “Okimi?”

“No. My cousin, Okimi, is a pain in the ass.”

“Alright, you suggest something, then.”

“Kumiko,” Kaoru offers.

“Nope,” Kojiro rejects it immediately, the same as Kaoru had with his choices. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Kaoru frowns. “When? I don’t remember a Kumiko.”

Kojiro snorts. “She was another exchange student I met when I was studying in Italy. Didn’t last long.”

Kaoru scoffs again. “Seijun, then?”

Kojiro coughs awkwardly and he reaches a hand up and around to the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “Uh, I used to fool around with a Seijun, too.”

“Well, we might as well discount half of all Japanese girl’s names if we’re eliminating your sexual partners.”

Kojiro laughs. “At least I stopped taking their names after a while…”

“Incorrigible,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes.

Their conversation is cut short by Nakano coming back into the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” she starts, as she walks over to them. “I’ve updated our records, we’ll probably check up on you in a month to see that she’s being cared for, but other than that you’re free to take your daughter home after requesting her discharge,” she’s looking at Kojiro as she speaks. “All you need to do now is to register her birth at some point in the next twenty-eight days.”

Kojiro slowly nods. “Great, so, that’s really it? I can—I can take her home, just like that?”

“Yes, that’s it,” Nakano confirms. “The nurses have put together some supplies for you, for the next day or so, since you haven’t been able to prepare anything. Something to hold you over until you can get to the shops to buy your own things. It’s all ready for you to take when you leave.”

Kojiro does his best at his most charming smile, although Kaoru can tell it’s forced and he tries to hold back a laugh at his friends’ tact. “Thank you for your help, Nakano-san.”

“I appreciate that this is all very new and immediate, so if you need anything else, any further help or if you have any questions, let me know. Otherwise, congratulations, I wish you all the best with your newborn,” she bows and heads out the room.

Once she’s gone, Kojiro and Kaoru’s eyes find each others’ again and Kojiro raises a brow while Kaoru attempts to hold back another laugh. “I don’t think she liked us very much,” Kaoru finally says.

“Yeah,” Kojiro chuckles in agreement. “Are you okay with her a little bit longer? I’m gonna go see about getting her discharged and going home.”

“Sure,” Kaoru replies; more than content to hold her for all eternity, but he’ll settle for a small time longer if that’s all he’s offered. Kojiro leaves the room, and Kaoru tries not to think too much into the fact that Kojiro had been reluctant to leave her all night, but was trusting enough to leave her with him without any hesitation whatsoever.

Kojiro eventually returns with a bag, presumably with supplementary baby supplies in it, and what looks like an old baby carseat carrier.

“They’ve given us this to transport her home,” he lifts the carrier slightly to indicate what he’s talking about. “We don’t have to return it, but we’ll need a better one when we get a chance.”

Kaoru tries not to think too deeply into Kojiro referring to them as ‘we,’ or the way that it makes his heart skip a beat.

Kojiro walks over to Kaoru and places the carrier on the crib and the bag next to his feet. He makes it look easy as he retrieves his daughter from Kaoru and places her gently into the carrier, doing up the straps once she’s in and settled. Kojiro looks down at her for a moment, his hand instinctively coming up to softly brush over her hair and face.

Kaoru picks up the bag from next to Kojiro’s feet, and rests his other hand on Kojiro’s shoulder, both men now looking down at her.

“Let’s get you and your daughter home,” Kaoru finally says after a moment, the words bringing reality crashing down around him; he thinks he can hear Kojiro sniffling.

“Okay,” Kojiro’s voice is wet; definitely crying, then, Kaoru thinks. “Home time it is, baby girl,” Kojiro murmurs at his daughter, and Kaoru’s legs almost give way when the words ‘baby girl’ hit his ears.

The drive back to Sia la luce—and subsequently Kojiro’s apartment above it—is much quicker than the drive to the hospital had been; Kaoru being permitted to now drive at a normal speed, with the baby secure in her carrier.

They spend the journey back arguing some more about what to name her, quietly, while she rests. Every name discussed on the journey is vetoed for varying reasons—more ex’s, annoying clients, the names of some fangirls at S, or simply just because Kaoru flat out didn’t think they were good enough for her, insisting her name should be perfect.

By the time they were finally parked up outside Sia la luce, they were both physically and mentally exhausted, the time pushing close to 3AM. They didn’t have the energy to carry on any further conversation; falling into yet another comfortable silence while they make their way up to Kojiro’s apartment, baby in tow.

Once they’re inside the front door of Kojiro’s apartment, a weird lull falls over the both of them; neither of them sure where to go from here or what comes next. They stand for a moment in the entrance area, between the small kitchen and the living room. Kojiro’s apartment is open plan, no walls separating the three areas, too small for any such definitiveness. When he moved in, he wasn’t sure it was intended to be lived in, but since he already paid rent on the building for his restaurant, it was the cheapest option for him—much to Kaoru’s chagrin.

Kaoru hasn’t move from the doorway, similar to the way he lingered in the hospital room doorway, his shoes still on. He eventually clears his throat, bringing Kojiro’s attention to him. “I guess—I guess I should go home…”

“You’re leaving?” Kojiro is quick to ask, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” Kaoru shrugs. “You look exhausted and, anyway, I have that important meeting in the morning.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Kojiro says, dejected. “Of course, I guess I’ll—” The baby starts crying loudly, interrupting Kojiro’s thoughts. “Shit,” he says, putting the carrier on the floor and bending down to pick her up.

Without hesitation, Kaoru takes his shoes off and makes his way over to Kojiro who is now rocking his daughter in his arms. “Carla, play lullaby playlist,” Kaoru says, as he takes his Carla bracelet off—soft music now emanating from her—and he adjusts the size of the bracelet, placing it on one of Kojiro’s wrists.

He looks up into Kojiro’s soft eyes. “Why don’t you take her into the bedroom? I’ll warm up some of the formula the nurses gave us. I’m not sure if they fed her, so she might be hungry,” Kaoru offers.

Kojiro nods, following Kaoru’s orders and making his way towards his bedroom. Kaoru heads into the small kitchen area and tries to make sense of the formula milk they had been provided. He eventually googles what to do on his phone; not having Carla to hand, and not having a clue how formula should be prepared, or how much she needs.

He can still hear her crying, even from the other room, and occasionally her wails are followed by Kojiro’s loving affirmations. Kaoru tries to be as quick as possible, not enjoying the sound of her distress; but overhearing Kojiro call his daughter ‘baby girl’ for a second time that night makes him feel faint and gives him pause.

He shakes his head, trying to pass it off as the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him, and he refocuses on the task at hand. When he’s finally done, he takes a few deep breaths to ready himself before walking into Kojiro’s bedroom.

The breaths he took made absolutely no difference because Kaoru stops dead in his tracks when he walks into the bedroom; Kojiro is sitting up against the back of the bed frame, his feet planted firmly on the bed, his knees in line with his shoulders, and he’s rocking his daughter back and forth in his arms in an attempt to soothe her. Kaoru idly wonders how many more times he’s going to lose all coherency when he catches a visual of Kojiro with her, before he’s broken out of his trance by said man asking if he’s got the formula ready.

He walks over and passes the bottle to him, and when Kojiro starts feeding her Kaoru starts to feel slightly out of place again. He decides this time he’s not going to let the feeling take root, and he walks around the bed and gets in next to Kojiro, lying down and bringing the covers over him.

Both men fall into that comfortable silence they’re both used to; Kojiro contentedly feeding his daughter, and Kaoru’s eyes starting to drift shut from where he lies next to Kojiro, facing him.

“I think you should name her after your grandmother,” Kaoru mumbles, eventually, sleepily. He doesn’t open his eyes, but his mind hasn’t fully shut off from the events of the evening, still intent on offering his opinion.

“After Nanna?” Kojiro queries, his voice tender as he watches his daughter. He’s resting her up against his legs now, so she’s facing him, and she’s cooing lightly.

When they were younger, Kojiro’s Nanna had often taken care of all the Nanjo children—including Kaoru, she always considered him as an extension of their family. Kojiro’s mother was a nurse, and his father worked with a prestigious accountancy firm, so they both had busy schedules. His mother hadn’t needed to work, his father earning more than enough; but she had loved caring for people, and giving back to her community where she could.

Both of his parents were retired now, with more than enough money to live comfortably; but when Kojiro and Kaoru had been younger, they had utilised Kojiro’s parents’ busy schedules to get up to as much mischief as they possibly could—Nanna Nanjo letting them get away with any and everything, never stifling their fun or creativity. They loved and respected her for it, of course they did, and they were always more than happy to sit and listen to her insights and stories while she would work at patching them up after any skateboarding accidents. She’d never tell them off—her actions only ever emitted care, affection, encouragement—and Kaoru had loved her as if she was his own grandparent. More, even. His own never understood him, definitely never in the way she had, and they never tried to.

As they got older, the two of them had started patching themselves up after accidents, but that never stopped them from going to Nanna Nanjo for her love and kindness when they needed it; and, on occasion, Kaoru would take it upon himself to seek out her company when Kojiro was busy practicing his culinary skills, or spending time with whichever girlfriend he had at the time.

The lullabies currently playing from the Carla bracelet were aiding Kaoru’s tiredness, but also his reverie, as they often made him think of Nanna Nanjo. Despite his body aching for sleep, his mind couldn’t help but continue, the deliriousness from the exhaustion fully settling in his bones and allowing words to fall from his mouth without any intention or effort. “Nanna told me once—our paths in life take us where we need to be, whether we choose them or not. She said my choices led me to you, and then to her.”

Somewhere in the back of Kaoru’s mind he registers that he’s being more open than he usually is, even with Kojiro. But the words just keep coming. “She said that her name meant ‘to bind’, and that’s why I was bound to her, the same as all her grandchildren. She also said it meant ‘love and affection’, and that’s why she always had enough to go around for all of us.”

Kaoru stifles a yawn, fully on the verge of sleep now that the words plaguing his mind had been spoken. “I miss her,” he mumbles into the pillow, followed by “she always knew the right thing to say,” which are the final words out of his mouth before sleep claims him.

Kojiro is still smiling down at his daughter, except now his cheeks are stained wet from the tears. “I miss her, too,” he whispers into the chill of the night air.

He spends a few more minutes watching his daughter, before realising his body is also aching for sleep. He moves slowly to turn and place her back into the carrier—having no where else to rest her for the night—and he mumbles “I guess you have a name, now,” as lightly as his voice allows.

He lies down on his side, facing out—facing her—and drapes an arm off the side of the bed, resting a hand as near to her as he can get without disturbing her in her now sleeping state. It’s not much, but at least she’s close.

“Goodnight, Yua,” he smiles adoringly down at her as he, too, drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Kojiro is disoriented when he wakes the next morning. He’s a morning person, so this usually isn’t an issue for him—but the unconventional events of last night, coupled with the fact that he was up a few times during the night dealing with a crying, hungry newborn; his internal body clock was suffering now, to say the least.

An immediate panic sets in when he checks his phone and sees that it is close to 10AM (hours after his usual waking time) and for the first time in his working life, he’s going to be late to prep for lunch service.

It’s only after the initial panic that he remembers the reason why he’s up so late, and that the baby responsible is no longer next to his bedside where he had left her. At least it’s been long enough now that the rational side of his brain has woken up. He realises that the carseat carrier, and Kaoru, are also no longer in the room. Well, Yua is in good hands, he thinks.

He groans, rubs a hand over his face, and pulls himself out of bed in search for an old shirt and sweatpants to slip into. He’d fallen asleep in his work clothes last night, and it’s only just occurred to him how uncomfortable he is. Once dressed, he heads into the living area to investigate the whereabouts of the two others that had occupied his bedroom last night.

When he gets there though, he’s not quite prepared for what he sees and stops dead in his tracks. Kaoru is sitting in the middle of his only couch; reading something on his tablet in his left hand, while his right hand is rocking the carrier on the couch next to him, Yua comfortably resting inside it.

Kaoru hasn’t noticed him yet, and for that, Kojiro is grateful—he probably has some dopey expression on his face that he doesn’t want to be teased about. He tries to ground himself, his brain still in a foggy sleep haze, but he can’t quite believe the domestic sight before him, and he definitely isn’t awake enough to fully grasp the fluttering feeling rising in his chest watching Kaoru being so doting with his daughter.

He shakes his head slightly, in an effort to clear his thoughts and ignore the growing feelings. When it doesn’t quite work, he settles for huffing out a small, albeit disbelieving, laugh. “Suits you,” he says, alerting Kaoru to his presence, who startles slightly at the sound of Kojiro’s voice, still groggy from sleep.

“What does?” Kaoru asks, brows furrowing.

Kojiro gestures an arm at the two of them on the couch. “This,” is all he says as he walks closer, hovering near the coffee table when he gets near them. “It's early for you, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Kaoru replies abashedly, shifting slightly and placing his tablet down. “There was too much to think about, I couldn’t turn my mind off, so I just…” he lets the sentence linger in the air, not committed to finishing the thought.

It’s then that Kojiro notices the empty baby bottle on the table, and a smug smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Did you feed her?” and if Kojiro sounds like he’s teasing Kaoru slightly with the tone in his voice when asking the question, it’s because he is.

“Yeah,” Kaoru pouts. “She was fussing a bit, and I was already awake,” he explains. Then Kojiro swears he sees a flash of embarrassment cross his friend’s face. “Didn’t see the point in waking you. That’s—that’s okay, right?

“Of course it is,” Kojiro confirms, his eyes softening with fondness as he flashes Kaoru a lopsided grin. “Thanks, man.”

Kaoru coughs awkwardly into his hand. “There’s, uh—I brewed some coffee. If you want some.”

As Kojiro stands, looking down at his friend on the couch, he’s bombarded by the same feelings rising in his chest mere minutes ago. He tries to push it down. It seems stupid, really. Kaoru hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Yet, here he is, on Kojiro’s couch—helping to take care of Yua, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, as though this was his responsibility as much as it was Kojiro’s.

Kojiro shakes his head trying to dislodge the thoughts for a second time that morning, mumbles out another genuine ‘thanks’ in Kaoru’s direction, and heads toward the kitchen for that coffee he’s in dire need of.

“I checked in with your staff, too,” Kaoru continues, talking over his shoulder toward the kitchen, sounding more confident now that Kojiro was no longer in his vicinity. “Told them you had a family emergency. We agreed to keep Sia la luce closed, at least for today.”

“Wait, what?” Kojiro calls over to him from the kitchen, confusion evident on his face as he pours himself a coffee.

“We both know you’ll be worrying about lunch and dinner service if you open, even if you leave it in your staff’s capable hands,” Kaoru explains. “The number one priority for today is figuring out a plan of action for her,” he jerks his head towards Yua as he speaks. “Prepare properly for what she needs.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Kojiro agrees, albeit slightly unenthusiastically. It’s not that he doesn’t agree that Yua is the number one priority, of course he does, he knows Kaoru is right. But the thought of closing Sia la luce, even for one day, scares him. He can’t really afford to lose the income. Especially now.

It’s just one day, though, he tells himself, as he inspects his kitchen to see what he has available for breakfast. He immediately regrets that decision too, when he remembers that—on top of everything else—his kitchen is sparse, and he needs to go food shopping.

A thought suddenly occurs to him while he’s looking in the cabinets. “Kaoru,” he says, picking up his coffee mug and walking back over to the living area. “Your meeting this morning, you missed it—”

Kaoru waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But you said it was imp—”

“Never mind that, something else needs your attention,” Kaoru says, grimacing as he looks down at Yua. Kojiro gives him a puzzled look. “Your daughter needs changed,” Kaoru clarifies.

“Ah, shit,” Kojiro places his coffee mug on the table, bending down to the height of the couch next to Yua. He scrunches his face at the smell and Kaoru lets out a small laugh. Kojiro picks Yua up, stands, and then looks down at Kaoru. “Are you gonna help?”

“You’re on your own with this,” Kaoru snorts.

Kojiro rolls his eyes. “Okay, Yua, let’s get you changed,” he smiles down at his daughter as he talks to her, and he’s so focused on her that he doesn’t notice the way Kaoru’s posture straightens abruptly when he hears Kojiro call her by her name.

He heads to the bathroom, daughter in tow. “Can you at least get the diaper supplies the hospital gave us?” He calls over his shoulder to Kaoru, and in response he gets a very purposefully loud sigh from Kaoru. He rolls his eyes again.

Once he’s stood in the middle of the bathroom, he realises he has a bigger problem and he stops to consider it.

“What’s wrong?” Kaoru asks, walking into the bathroom behind him, supplies in hand.

“I don’t have anywhere to change her,” Kojiro explains.

Kaoru snorts, placing the bag of supplies on the floor, and then starts clearing Kojiro’s toiletries from the counter next to the sink. “I’ll add a changing table to the list,” he says, while he works to free up some space.

“List?”

“I’ve been making a list of things you need,” Kaoru says, turning to Kojiro once he’s done clearing the side. “This will have to do for now,” he gestures to the now empty counter. “I’ll stand by to make sure she doesn’t fall while you’re changing her.”

The wave of affection Kojiro feels for Kaoru in that moment is intense, and he lets it wash over him. Usually, he wouldn’t entertain it—he hadn’t earlier, trying to shake the thoughts and feelings out. But now, all of a sudden, he’s thinking back over the last twelve hours, and how Kaoru has gone out of his way to not only help him, but help his daughter, too.

Realistically, Kojiro knows that he would have been more than capable of figuring it out alone. He’s good with kids, he was always around when his sister’s were really young—especially his youngest sister, Koemi. She was a single mother at eighteen, and although she lived at home, Kojiro pitched in where he could with her son Sora.

So, sure, he could have figured this out alone—he might have just taken a more scenic route than Kaoru—but he would have figured it out nonetheless, because he would have had to. As it turns out, he’s glad he doesn’t have to. Kaoru’s resourcefulness provides the stability that he needs. He’s incredibly grateful, he thinks. And a small part of him wants Kaoru, and his stability, to stay, no matter what.

“Kojiro?” Kaoru asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, right,” Kojiro places Yua down on the counter, and begins to remove her onesie and cotton diaper. He quietly goes about changing her, discarding the cotton diaper to one side to be washed, wiping her down, placing her into a clean one. Kaoru watches, quietly, from Kojiro’s side.

“So,” Kaoru is the one to break the silence, but his voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “You’re going with Yua, then?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kojiro chuckles. He realises then that Kaoru had fallen asleep before he had fully decided on her name. “You made a very convincing argument for it,” he explains, tenderness evident in his voice.

Kaoru only smiles softly at his answer, and Kojiro continues with what he’s doing in silent concentration. At least this is one thing he doesn’t need help with, doesn’t have to prepare for, having changed Sora’s diapers when he was helping Koemi at the start.

After a few moments, Kaoru once again breaks the silence. “At least you’re prepared for some things,” Kaoru says, and Kojiro almost laughs at the way Kaoru had read his mind. “I’m assuming you did this with Sora?”

“A few times, yeah,” Kojiro confirms. “He was a good baby, rarely fussed or cried. Hopefully Yua is similar.”

Throughout the diaper changing process, Kojiro hadn’t been able to stop his mind drifting to Kaoru’s actions. They’d known each other for so long. Sure, Kaoru had been far more open with his emotions in his rebellious teen years, only mastering the art of subtlety and acting more reserved with everyone—everyone except Kojiro—in his more recent years. But Kojiro had known him long enough to pick up on his nuances, regardless. He knows Kaoru doesn’t do anything without purpose.

“Hey, Kaoru,” he starts softly, while he’s finishing up. “Did you cancel that meeting for me?” He asks, as he starts to button up Yua’s onesie. “Y’know you didn’t have to, right? You said it was important.”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” Kaoru scoffs, his usual playful tone clear in his voice. A pause, and then “I cancelled it for her,” he says, gesturing with his head towards Yua. There’s another pause, while Kojiro processes what Kaoru just said, and then he hears “family emergency, and all,” so quietly that he almost misses it.

But Kojiro doesn’t miss it, and on top of everything else, hearing Kaoru refer to Yua as ‘family’ makes his heart leap into his throat. It’s ridiculous, it really is, Kaoru has been an extension of his own family for as long as they’ve known each other—his grandparents, his parents, his sisters have long considered Kaoru as part of the family, his nieces and nephews all call him uncle Kaoru—but it’s this moment that Kojiro thinks is the closest they’ve ever been to it being real. It occurs to him that he may have been justified in never settling down with anyone else.

Kojiro realises he’s been looking down at Yua in contemplation for a few minutes, having already finished with changing her diaper, so he opts for picking her up to break himself out of his reverie. “Such a good girl, Yua,” he coos at her, affectionately, as he cradles her in his arms.

After that, they head back into the living area and get comfortable on the couch, having intermittent conversations about Yua and what to do next. Kojiro vaguely listens as Kaoru mentions something about organising paternity leave, and he hums a noncommittal response. At some point, Kojiro transfers Yua from his arms to Kaoru’s, so he can drink his coffee.

Kaoru is rocking Yua in his arms, talking to her about AI and some new upgrades he has planned for Carla. He read online that morning that in a baby’s first week, you should talk to them a lot to help their development, so that’s what he was doing.

Kojiro watched on, amused, smiling into his coffee mug while he slowly drank from it. Of course Kaoru had spent the morning researching development in babies, and of course this is the topic he would choose to talk about. Kojiro let himself be completely enamoured by the scene playing out in front of him, not even trying to repress any feelings towards his best friend, and he starts to think that if Kaoru wanted to stay here permanently, with the two of them, he would let him.

Having known each other their whole lives, Kojiro really thought he knew everything about Kaoru, and the same for Kaoru about him. But there were always the unexplained moments, glances, touches. They had never crossed any sort of intimacy line before, but they’ve gotten close. Closer than most friends would.

Kojiro thinks back to last night—the way Kaoru had been uneasy when Yua landed on their doorstep, literally; but then he so clearly, so naturally, fallen in love with her when he held her for the first time at the hospital. Kojiro thinks about everything that has happened since then, in such a short period of time. Suddenly, all those unexplained moments, glances, touches—well, they all seem to start making sense, and Kojiro thinks everything might fall into place if he lets it.

Kojiro has never been one to believe in fate, but he’s always been open to new ideas. It’s still early doors, though, he thinks. Kaoru might not stay much longer. Kojiro decides not to tempt any sort of fate by mentioning anything. He’ll see how it plays out.

When he’s finished his coffee, he realises Kaoru is looking at him expectantly. “What?” Kojiro asks, placing his empty mug down on the table.

“You weren’t listening,” Kaoru scolds.

“Sorry,” Kojiro says, genuinely apologetically. “Distracted,” is all he offers as a reason.

“I was saying,” Kaoru starts again, clearly irritated. “We should call your sisters to see if they have any leftover baby items from when theirs were younger. Before we start buying new things,” he suggests.

“Oh,” Kojiro hesitates, then groans and rubs a hand through his hair. “How am I supposed to explain this to my family, without looking like an asshole who sleeps around?”

Kaoru’s face breaks out into a full smile. “I don’t think you can,” he chuckles. “Good luck.”

“How very empathetic of you,” Kojiro says, sarcastically. “They’re gonna be insufferable,” he groans. “Katsumi, especially.”

“Rightfully so. I’ll ring her now. Carla, call—”

“Wait! Let’s try Koemi first,” Kojiro interjects.

Katsumi being his older sister by five years was always the first to tease him, scold him, and give him grief. She and Kaoru got along too well for Kojiro’s liking.

“Katsumi will be better. She has three kids, and Suki only just turned two, so she’s more likely to have items to offer,” Kaoru argues.

“Fuck, fine,” Kojiro concedes. “I’m sure you just have an ulterior motive so you two can gang up on me like usual, but fine. Kat first.”

Kaoru grins mischievously. “Carla, call Katsumi.”

“Yes, master, calling Katsumi.”

Kojiro sighs, his shoulders hunched over in protest but accepting the inevitable.

“Kaoru?” Katsumi asks over speaker phone, when she answers.

“Good morning, Katsumi,” Kaoru replies. Kojiro also mumbles out a 'good morning', barely audible, but Katsumi heard it nonetheless.

She huffs out a laugh. “Hey little brother, little brother’s better half—what can I do for you both, this morning?”

Both of them ignore how Katsumi referred to Kaoru, and Kaoru opts for giving Kojiro a pointed look, urging him to answer his sister.

Kojiro clears his throat. “Well, y’see, kind of a long story but—” Yua lets out a small cry, and Kaoru shushes her, rocking her a little more prominently than he already was.

“Did I just hear a baby?” Katsumi asks.

“Uh,” Kojiro pauses, but Yua makes some more small crying noises and he sighs. “Yes?”

“Why do the two of you have a baby?” She asks, sternly.

“Well, uh,” Kojiro pauses and rubs a hand over his face, Kaoru gives him another pointed look, using his eyes to communicate to Kojiro that he needs to move the conversation along. “She’s mine,” Kojiro says, finally.

Katsumi snorts. “I think I’m getting deaf in my old age, could’ve sworn you just said you have a baby.”

“I did say that,” Kojiro confirms.

Then there’s a long pause. The only noise between them for what seems like a long time is Kaoru softly soothing Yua. Kojiro wonders if the phone line cut off, but that would be too convenient. He’s about to say something else, but Katsumi beats him to it.

“Kojiro, what the fuck?” she asks finally, and a big grin spreads across Kaoru’s face at her reaction.

Kojiro sighs, takes a deep breath, and then “I only found out last night. She was left on my doorstep with a note saying she’s mine.”

Another pause. “What the fuck is this, The Jungle Book? Who’s her mother?” Kaoru has to stop himself from laughing.

Kojiro places his head in his hands at the question, and Kaoru interjects when he can catch his breath from holding back laughter. “He doesn’t know, Kat.”

“Oh, for fuck—” Katsumi mumbles, and it sounds like she moves her head away from the phone receiver, before returning with “Kojiro, could you not keep it in your pants? Are you sure she’s yours?”

“We took her to the hospital last night, talked to social services, he had a paternity test. She’s his. We’re just trying to figure out where to go from here,” Kaoru explains.

Kojiro lifts his head from his hands. “Kat, I obviously haven’t prepared for this, so—”

“I’ll check what I have from when the kids were little,” she interrupts, pre-emptively guessing his question.

They talk for a while longer, Kaoru offering more of an explanation to Katsumi, she agrees to come over once she’s had a look through the collection of items she accumulated through having three children, she also agrees to stop by the store to stock up on general items, too—which Kojiro is grateful for—and then they say their goodbyes.

Kojiro lets out a loud exhale when it’s over, exhausted from the conversation alone. “You rang her on purpose,” he accuses Kaoru. He loves his older sister, but her abrupt energy often drains Kojiro’s own.

“Well, of all the Nanjo children, she’s the most sensible,” he smirks at Kojiro.

Kojiro scoffs at him. “Whatever.”

They spent the rest of their morning ambling around Kojiro’s small apartment, taking turns watching over Yua, both men terrified of leaving her alone for a single moment, even when she’s sleeping. She doesn’t need much, or provide much entertainment, but that doesn’t stop them both from being completely captivated by her the entire time.

Kaoru continued to make a list of bigger baby items they may need that Katsumi may not be able to provide—a proper crib, a pushchair, changing table, and so on—adding items into an online shopping basket, ready for purchase once they knew exactly what they needed.

Kojiro whipped up a small breakfast with what he had left in his kitchen, showered, and did some house chores that had piled up during his busy working week.

Between the two of them carrying out their activities, and dealing with Yua while trying to get things sorted, they found a rhythm that worked for them. Kojiro bit his tongue, so not to make a comment on how easily the two of them fell into domestic family life.

It was only the first day and he knew this was only temporary—things would get more complicated when he has to reopen the restaurant, when Kaoru goes to work (or when he returns home, but Kojiro tries not to think too hard about that), and when he’s having to juggle his usual routine with a newborn to take care of.

While he’s holding Yua, it’s easy to forget everything else, of course; all concerns, issues, and stresses fall away while he’s watching her. He is completely besotted with her and the overwhelming devotion he feels is like nothing he has ever known—his heart so full it could burst.

By now, he’s doing the last of the cleaning, washing the dishes to busy himself. His mind wanders, as it tends to when completing such a menial task, and of course it wanders back to how Kaoru’s role will play in all of this.

After all, he hasn’t left. He didn’t leave last night, and he’s made no indication that he would be leaving today either. He woke up early, fed Yua, sat with her, did research and made lists, cancelled important work, helped with getting them to the hospital, social services, getting her home, helped name her. He had done so much in less than twenty four hours, and Kojiro couldn’t ignore it.

His mind starts reeling through the regular excuses for reasons not to think too much into it—Kaoru has been by his side for every important moment of his life so far, when Kaoru puts effort into something it’s 100% or nothing, Kaoru thinks of Yua as a niece just like he does Kojiro’s sister’s kids—there is any number of reasons for why Kaoru is doing what he is doing.

When Kojiro’s sister arrives, Kaoru goes down to let her in through the front of the restaurant. Kojiro is momentarily confused when he hears multiple voices, and then realises that all three of his sisters have stopped by, because of course they did. He sighs, running a hand through his hair and readying himself for the onslaught that his siblings will inevitably bring.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” Kojiro asks when they all finally walk through the front door, followed closely by Kaoru.

“Nice to see you too, big brother,” his younger sister, Kaori, says as she embraces him in a hug.

Kaori and Koemi are Kojiro’s two younger sisters, and they’re twins, so naturally they tell each other everything. Kaori explains to Kojiro that Katsumi had stopped by Koemi’s house to explain the situation, and see if she had anything left over from when Sora was young, and of course Koemi immediately rang Kaori to tell her, too. And now they’re all here, wanting to meet their newest niece.

Kojiro complains that he would have introduced them eventually, and they all didn’t need to come on the very first day, but it falls on deaf ears.

When Kojiro asks Katsumi where all the stuff is—they had walked into his apartment with their hands empty—she says that she left everything in the car, and he had to go get it. Kojiro doesn’t complain, though, considering she brought old baby clothes, blankets, toys, a newer carseat carrier than the one he currently has, a walker for when Yua is old enough to start wandering, and most importantly a bassinet for her to sleep in.

While his sisters get to know their niece, all crowding around Katsumi who is holding her, Kojiro busies himself with getting the items from her car. Kaoru makes them a pot of tea, and urges them all into the living area to sit down.

When he’s finished with bringing everything up, Kojiro sits down on the floor next to Koemi. Kaoru is on the lone armchair, and Katsumi and Kaori are on the couch, Yua now in Kaori’s arms.

“Bit of a weird situation, Koji,” Koemi laughs from next to him, leaning into him as she speaks.

He chuckles in agreement. “Not ideal, but there’s nothing I can do about it now except move forward.”

“She’s perfect,” Kaori says, looking down at Yua in her arms. “She picked the right person to accidentally be her father, anyway,” she laughs.

“Kaoru was saying that the two of you have this covered, but we’re all here for you, too,” Katsumi assures him, and a smile tugs at Kojiro’s lips at the mention of Kaoru. He looks up to meet his gaze, but Kaoru is looking away, a slight blush dusting his cheeks.

“I owe you for what you did for Sora, anyway,” Koemi adds.

“You owe me nothing, Ko,” Kojiro says, fondly. “I’d do anything for him, like I would for you,” he pulls her into a hug from the side, kissing her temple. “Anyway, you’ve done more than enough with what you’ve brought today.”

“I suppose you’re gonna be uncle Kaoru,” Katsumi says, turning to Kaoru. “Like you are for our kids?”

“Uh,” Kaoru coughs awkwardly into his hand. “I guess so,” he says, sounding unsure, then he turns to Kojiro and asks “if that’s okay?”

Kojiro’s eyes widen slightly, but then he quickly says “of course it is,” followed by a small ‘huh’ falling from his lips in thought. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What?” Kaoru asks, confused.

“Well,” Kojiro brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “‘Uncle’ doesn’t really sound special enough for you,” he admits.

“Oh,” Kaoru says, and Kojiro definitely sees the blush creep back onto his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the twins making eye contact; but he’s more focused on the way Katsumi’s gaze meet Kaoru’s, and she raises her eyebrow in what can only be described as a knowing look. Kaoru’s blush darkens, then he looks away.

Kojiro wonders what that was all about, but his attention is brought elsewhere when Koemi asks if she can hold Yua, and Kaori passes her over gently. The moment subsides, and they break out into an array of conversations for the next couple of hours.

It’s early afternoon by the time his sisters leave, and Kojiro is well and truly exhausted. Kaoru doesn’t let him rest once they’re alone, though, insisting that they put away the new baby items.

Kojiro sets up the bassinet next to his bed, after Kaoru had told him Yua should sleep in the same room as him for the first six months—another thing he had read online that morning.

He finds an unused storage box for the toys that are too old for her current age—at Kaoru’s insistence—keeping out a couple of rattles and soft animal plushes.

The baby clothes and blankets all get put into the washing machine to be cleaned—Kaoru was adamant that they hadn’t been used in so long and they were probably dusty from sitting in storage.

Every chore that they complete is interspersed with feeding, changing, and rocking Yua to sleep, so it takes them two times as long to get everything sorted—especially to Kaoru’s standards.

And of course, during all of it, they had fallen back into their usual bickering, with Kojiro eventually conceding every battle, following Kaoru’s orders, as he has done for the last twenty-five years.

By the time evening rolls around, Kojiro is ready to call it a day, but Kaoru pressures him to call his parents. He reluctantly does so to explain the situation, but more than anything they’re just excited to have a new grandchild. They make arrangements to meet the newest addition to the family soon, Kojiro offering to cook them dinner when they visit; Kaoru sits on the couch next to him, finalising the order for the other baby items they still need.

Eventually, when everything is relatively pieced together, some semblance of a plan in mind, they both admit defeat to the tiredness that has settled in, and they remain stuck to the couch for the rest of the evening.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted, and I usually do two workouts a day,” Kojiro huffs out a laugh.

They order food in, having not had a chance to have dinner yet, and put a movie on TV while they eat. They’re both too tired to even follow the plot, the moving images on the screen only acting as a distraction long enough for them to satiate themselves. As soon as they’re done eating, they fall asleep where they currently sit.

Kojiro is the first to wake when he hears the music roll over the end credits of the movie, and he tries to move his head from side-to-side to deal with the soreness he now has in his neck from the awkward sleeping position. He has one arm hanging off the couch, and his other is resting on his thigh.

It’s only when he looks down at it that he notices Kaoru’s hand is resting atop his, his head is resting on his shoulder, their sides joined, and every part of his body that is touching Kaoru feels burning hot.

As uncomfortable as he is, he doesn’t want to move. Kaoru looks peaceful like this, and disturbing him is the last thing on his mind.

Kojiro sits for a while longer in contemplative silence, but then sighs when he realises they can’t stay like this, and so he gently nudges Kaoru awake.

Kaoru lifts his head and blinks up at Kojiro as he adjusts his position. His glasses are askew on his face, which he repositions almost immediately, but his eyes are foggy in their sleepy state, and his hair is falling into his face slightly from where it had been disturbed. Kojiro’s first thought is how cute he looks like this.

He gently brushes a piece of Kaoru’s hair out of his face and behind his ear, his hands moving on their own before he even realised what he was doing.

Both men are sitting up straight now, but their sides are still connected, their faces so close to each other that Kojiro can feel Kaoru’s breath on his own. He realises that Kaoru’s hand is still on top of his, resting on his thigh. Their eyes haven’t moved from each other’s in what seems like forever, and Kojiro wonders if they’ve ever teetered this close to the line before.

“You should probably stay again tonight,” Kojiro whispers. “It’s late.”

The world seems to stop for a moment, and Kojiro swears he sees Kaoru lean in ever so subtly, Kaoru’s breath hot on his lips from how close they still are.

Then, it’s all over in an instant. Yua starts crying, and Kaoru jolts backwards as though he’s just been burned. Their bodies are no longer in contact. His eyes don’t meet Kojiro’s again.

“I’ll take her into the bedroom,” Kaoru says, picking her up out of the carrier she was asleep in moments ago. “You get her formula milk,” and on that note, he leaves the room without hesitation, never glancing back.

Kojiro stays sitting in the exact same position on the couch, seemingly frozen in time. His mind is racing through all the excuses again—he was imagining it, he’s delirious from exhaustion, both he and Kaoru have had an unusual twenty four hours so this doesn’t mean anything, they’ve always been close and this was no different—but finally, eventually, ultimately he lands on what he should have realised was there all along. No excuses.

That line that they’ve come close to but never crossed? Kojiro realises that actually, they have crossed that line. They crossed it a long time ago, but he’s only just catching up now. The final piece slots into place in his mind when he realises that’s he’s been in love with his best friend this whole time.

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles softly to himself.

Chapter Text

It’s been almost a month, now. Kaoru keeps telling himself (and Kojiro) that he’s going home soon. It’s not a lie, not really. He really had thought he would be able to leave.

He only promised to stay long enough to make sure Yua had everything she needed—everything Kojiro hadn’t been able to prepare for in the nine months prior to her birth, like most parents would have had.

Spending money hadn’t been a concern. Kaoru made sure Yua has the best of everything, and he even bought items that weren’t entirely necessary, but Kaoru has the funds to spare and he wanted to leave Yua with some sort of physical reminder of his contribution, in case Kojiro decided to force him out and end the fantasy.

Kojiro had no complaints over Kaoru’s (occasionally reckless) spending, always making a comment or two that it was payback for all the revenue he lost from feeding Kaoru for free all these years. Although, every now and then, Kojiro did try to remind Kaoru that he doesn’t have the space for the unnecessary items. As long as Yua was happy, healthy, fed and clothed, they could make do.

Kaoru’s response to the lack of space was, predictably, for Kojiro to find somewhere more appropriate to live (and always added that he would have to eventually, since there was only one bedroom in his apartment and he doubted Yua would still want to be sharing a room with her dad when she was a teenager.)

Regardless, Yua has everything she needs now—has had for a couple of weeks—and Kaoru does keep telling himself that he will leave soon. Honestly, he does. But he just hadn’t considered that he would grow so attached that he couldn’t drag himself away. And the more time he spends with the two of them, the more he falls.

For Yua, especially. There was always a new milestone around every corner, and Kaoru didn’t want to miss anything.

In her second week, she could focus on some items close to her. Kaoru easily got carried away spending time moving his head from side to side, watching her eyes follow his actions, completely mesmerised by her as much as she was by him.

By her third week, she was able to adjust her posture slightly and would snuggle closer to him when he held her. The only other time Kaoru had felt warmth like it was when he got the opportunity to be close to Kojiro, and it made his heart soar.

She was in her fourth week now, and Kaoru read that babies learn by mimicking. So, here they were; Kaoru sitting in the old armchair in Kojiro’s apartment, Yua in his arms. She was looking up at him, babbling and cooing; he was looking down at her, repeating her sounds to her, to help aid her development.

And of course this would be the moment when Kojiro walks around the corner from his bedroom, where he went for a nap a couple hours earlier.

He looks at Kaoru, dumbfounded. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You have to stop swearing around her,” Kaoru chastised. “She’s learning every day.”

“Sorry, mom,” Kojiro boyishly grins. “But seriously, what are you doing?” He collapses onto the couch as he asks.

“She learns through mimicry, so I’m repeating her sounds back to her.”

“And she learns what from that?” Kojiro chuckles. “How much of a dork uncle Kaoru is?”

“I’m not a dork,” Kaoru snaps. “You should care more about her development.”

“Hey,” Kojiro protests. “I do care!”

“This is why I can’t leave,” Kaoru scoffs. “She won’t survive for one moment with a brainless gorilla.”

“Sure, princess,” Kojiro says, a glint in his eyes as he leans forward. “That’s why you can’t leave,” he winks, and Kaoru turns his head slightly to hide the blush he can feel heating his face.

There was that, too, of course.

Obviously, Yua was the main reason he was here, too attached to her to leave. But when that attachment meant that he also got to be like this with Kojiro—familial, homely, domestic—well, he couldn’t drag himself away from that, either.

They haven’t talked about it though, not really.

Kaoru knew Kojiro at least noticed that he temporarily re-homed himself here. Kojiro had mentioned it, in a roundabout way; complaining about Kaoru’s things—his clothes, toiletries, calligraphy utensils, and electronic apparatus—all of which had migrated here, and are now residing somewhere on Kojiro’s premises. Usually somewhere that angered Kojiro.

He may live in a small apartment, but Kojiro was very particular about his possessions and where they belonged. Kaoru wasn’t disorganised or messy, not by any normal means, but in comparison to the traits held by that of his head chef best friend, well, he may as well be the least organised person in the world.

Every now and then Kojiro spat out a harmless complaint about the stacks of paper and brushes that didn’t belong on the coffee table, the sheer amount of technology plugged in to the already too few plug sockets. Kaoru’s clothes that he had worn once, were still clean, and that had been slung over the chair in the corner of Kojiro’s bedroom, rather than hung back up at the end of the day.

For every complaint, Kaoru always responded with some iteration of “move somewhere with more space if it bothers you that much,” and that would be the end of the conversation. He always expected Kojiro would respond by telling him to leave, but it never came.

The three of them have settled into some semblance of a routine by Yua’s fifth week.

During the day, Kojiro’s parents would babysit. Kojiro would drop Yua off at their house, and Kaoru would pick her up.

Kaoru moved the time for meetings with clients to earlier in the day, so he could finish work every day by 5PM and deal with any admin from Kojiro’s apartment when he got the chance. Kojiro arranged a schedule with his sous chef that meant they could alternate days to work the dinner shift.

It meant that Kaoru spent more evenings with Yua, but Kojiro spent more mornings with her.

Every other day when Kojiro wasn’t working the dinner shift, the three of them had their evenings together, and Kaoru always looked forward to those days the most.

On this particular evening, Kaoru is explaining to Kojiro the importance of exercising Yua a little more now; gently, and for brief periods each day.

He demonstrates one exercise to Kojiro—Yua starts by lying down on her blanket, and then Kaoru pulls her slowly into a sitting position, supporting her head with one hand, holding her still for a brief moment, and then slowly laying her back down again.

The next exercise he explains to Kojiro he refers to as ‘flying’—where Yua should be positioned on her front, lying flat along one of their forearms, head still being supported.

“You should probably try that one,” Kaoru says, as he’s explaining it. “Let your ridiculously large arms be useful for something.”

Kojiro rolls his eyes, but follows Kaoru’s instructions anyway. Kaoru helps Kojiro place Yua on her front, lying her face down along Kojiro’s right forearm, her head turned to the side and comfortably cradled in his equally large hand.

Yua wiggles and makes soft noises, and Kojiro smiles down at her. “You enjoying that, is that fun?” He coos, while she continues making noises from where she is on his arm. “You love exercising as much as your daddy, huh?”

Kaoru catches his breath and then tries not to think too hard about the internal crisis he’s having right now; the lightheadedness that he’s suffering at the sight of this tiny human resting so comfortably on Kojiro’s well-muscled arm, the feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach at the way Kojiro is being so tender and loving when he talks to and looks at her.

Unfortunately, Kojiro must notice something is amiss from Kaoru’s face and his expression softens with concern when he asks Kaoru if he’s okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It comes out dry, and Kaoru swallows around the lump in his throat before continuing. “I think that’s enough exercise for her for the day, we don’t want to push her too hard.”

Kojiro nods and arranges Yua so she’s comfortably back in his arms, smiling down at her, and breathing out some more affirmations about how she’s such a good girl, and how much he loves her.

Even after that, though, he still looks back up at Kaoru, his brows furrow in a way that indicate he’s trying to study Kaoru’s expression.

Their gazes meet, but if Kojiro has some sort of realisation about how Kaoru is acting, he doesn’t say anything.

Yua’s in her sixth week, now.

Kaoru still hasn’t left.

They still haven’t talked about it.

They are comfortable enough in their routine now that it would be a lot of work to upheave themselves from it. So, they continue as they have been.

They’re still exercising Yua each day, trying to find time to do it when they’re both present because they love watching her reactions and seeing how responsive she is.

Kaoru was pulling her into the sitting position, while Kojiro supported her head. She was making her usual noises, but then—then she smiled, and the world stopped.

Tears prickled at the corners of Kaoru’s eyes, and next to him Kojiro smiled fondly back at her.

It was a small, gummy grin. Her eyes—auburn coloured, like her father’s—brightened as her mouth moved upwards in an unmistakable, genuine smile.

“Are you happy, baby girl?” Kojiro asks, the tenderness seeping through as it always seemed to whenever he talked to her. He gently runs his thumb over her cheek as they slowly lay her back down on her blanket.

She continues to look up at them with her gummy grin. Kaoru looks over to Kojiro and sees wetness gathering in his eyes, too. When Kojiro turns to meet his gaze, Kaoru looks away abashedly.

“Okay, Grinch,” Kojiro says, nudging Kaoru’s arm with his own. “Who knew all it took was a baby for your heart to grow a few sizes?”

“Shut up,” Kaoru pouts. “You’re crying, too.”

“Yeah,” Kojiro admits easily, turning back to Yua and smiling down at her, his thumb still softly caressing her hair, forehead, and face. “She’s perfect, though. If I do say so myself.”

Kaoru wipes a few stray tears from his face, and they continue to watch her in comfortable silence; the two of them smiling down at her, her smiling right back at them.

“My smiley, happy baby,” Kojiro murmurs at her. A beat, and then “I’m glad you’re here for this, Kaoru.”

Kaoru doesn’t say anything, letting Kojiro’s last thought linger in the air between them, not wanting to taint the moment by saying anything else.

There was an idea rattling around in Kaoru’s head, and it plagued him up until the point he snapped and decided to do something about it.

With Yua being seven weeks now, he didn’t want to delay it any longer.

He gave himself the afternoon off, and relieved Kojiro’s parents of babysitting duties. And while Yua was lying on her blanket just behind him, captivated by the colourful mobile positioned to dangle above her head, Kaoru began work on his next project.

Which is why, when Kojiro walks through the front door after finishing the lunch shift, he finds Kaoru in the middle of the floor; electrical items scattered around, a few monitors and screens here and there, screwdriver in hand, and his tongue stuck out in concentration.

“What the fu—heck are you doing now?” Kojiro asks, arms folded from where he stands next to the couch.

Kaoru—in his dirty jumpsuit, hair in a bun atop his head—stops what he’s doing to look up at Kojiro, presenting him with a genuine smile. “I’m adding Carla into Yua’s baby monitoring system.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Kojiro mouth quirks at the corner into a slight grin, but he runs a hand through his hair and sighs nonetheless. “What’s wrong with the normal baby monitors we bought?”

“I bought,” Kaoru corrects him. “They’re fine, but Carla’s better.”

“I don’t want your robot girlfriend spying on my daughter,” Kojiro huffs.

“It’s not spying,” Kaoru says, irritated. “We’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her anyway, in case you forgot,” he reminds him. “Carla will be able to detect her breathing, and her temperature, among other things, and she can update us if there’s anything urgent.”

“We can do that too, y’know?” Kojiro says, walking around to where Yua is—near Kaoru, but not close enough to be hurt by any of his equipment. “We can use these things we have—they’re called eyes, ears, and hands—to check on her.”

“Idiot gorilla,” Kaoru says, and goes back to what he was doing.

Kojiro doesn’t say anything in response, instead picking Yua up.

“Hey, baby girl,” he croons at her, swaying her. She coos in response, presenting him with a gummy grin that neither of the men had gotten sick of seeing yet. “Daddy missed you, too,” he says, kissing her forehead, and moving around Kaoru to sit on the couch.

Kaoru doesn’t move from his position, but his eyes follow Kojiro and Yua anyway. He watches intently as Kojiro tells Yua about his day and asks her about hers, asks her if she had a good time with her grandparents, and then with her crazy uncle Kaoru.

Kojiro doesn’t notice Kaoru watching; too completely smitten with his daughter to pay attention to the world around him in that moment.

Kaoru has to wait for both Kojiro and Yua to be in bed before he can finish his project.

They’re still living in Kojiro’s small apartment. And Kaoru has, obviously, continued to complain about the space—or lack, thereof.

He’d even looked at apartment listings (pushing away the idea of suggesting his own home as an option, not sure what the implication would mean if he said it out loud) but everything he had shown Kojiro so far, he rejected. Kojiro insisted there was plenty of time before needing to uproot their lives.

It’s been nine weeks now, and since Kaoru is making no effort to go home, he’s stuck having to share Kojiro’s king-size bed every night. It sounded like an ideal excuse to get close to him at first, but with every night that passes, he finds himself in even more of a predicament.

They’d started out sleeping as far on each side of the bed as they could, aware not to get too close to each other, but that distance increasingly closed as the weeks went on. Now, more often than not, they woke up with their limbs tangled in each other’s.

Which is the position they find themselves in currently.

It’s a Sunday morning—the one day of the week that they had carved out of their schedules to ensure they had no other responsibilities, apart from doting entirely on Yua.

Kaoru wakes suddenly, cursing his body clock for waking him up so early on his day off.

When his mind stirs from its sleepy haze, he realises that—once again—he’s tangled with Kojiro. Their legs are entwined, Kaoru is lying on his left arm, Kojiro is lying on his back, topless, and he’s awake and scrolling through his phone.

Somehow, Kaoru’s right hand found its own way to rest on Kojiro’s bare chest, which is when Kojiro realises he’s awake. Kaoru lifts himself up, his body weight now resting on his left elbow.

“Morning,” Kojiro mumbles, smiling up at him, not acknowledging the position they’re in.

Kaoru hums his response. He was never talkative in the mornings. Even less so now, wondering how he was going to untangle himself from Kojiro without bringing attention to the very specific area of his body where all his blood was currently rushing; Kojiro’s bare chest and dishevelled morning look all too charming for his mind to focus on anything else.

Kojiro gingerly reaches up and brushes a few of Kaoru’s loose hair strands from his face, placing them behind his ear. His hand lingers, hovering just above touching Kaoru’s cheek. “Too early?”

Kaoru hums again. Their gazes lock in place then, and their eyes never wander from each other’s for what feels like the longest time. Distantly, Kaoru thinks this might be too intimate.

He tries to steady himself, but his hand is still lying flat on Kojiro’s chest and he’s not sure if it’s the lightheadedness from how close they are, or the tiredness still clinging to him, but he could… he really could lean down right now, and close the distance between their lips.

He wonders if Kojiro is thinking the same thing, and he thinks he’s about to get his answer to that when Kojiro’s hand that was still lingering over his cheek takes a firmer grasp; Kojiro’s fingers putting pressure on the back of Kaoru’s head as though they’re about to manoeuvre his head downwards, closer to his own.

It’s the buzzing from the purple-lighted bracelet on Kaoru’s wrist that interrupts them this time, and Carla speaks the words “Master, it’s time for Yua’s breakfast,” into the warm, tension filled air.

Kaoru closes his eyes as he lets out a shaky exhale, but Kojiro’s hand remains firm on his face, and when he opens his eyes again, Kojiro’s gaze is the exact same as it was before Carla’s alarm—unwavering and unyielding.

His thumb slowly caresses Kaoru’s cheek.

“Why don’t you lie back down? I’ll feed her,” he says, reluctantly peeling himself away from Kaoru and getting up to pick Yua up out of her crib next to the bed, where she had been resting peacefully this entire time.

Kojiro croons an array of ‘good morning, beautiful’ and ‘let’s go get some food,’ as he settles her into his arms and heads towards the kitchen, Kaoru watching keenly as he does so.

When Kojiro is out of sight, Kaoru sighs and rests his head back against the pillow, laying an arm over his face, trying to come to his senses; his mind, and heart, racing.

That’s when he hears the music start and softly breeze its way throughout the apartment, followed by Kojiro’s own voice singing along with it.

Kojiro had created his own Sunday morning routine now, consisting of a playlist of the old school crooners that he loved; singing, swaying, and lavishing all sorts of affection towards Yua (and Kaoru, too, if he was lucky enough to get caught in the crossfire.)

It quickly became Kaoru’s favourite time of the week. So, when it started, he refused to miss it. He shot out of bed, quickly dressed, and then sauntered into the kitchen (as though he hadn’t just rushed to get out here); settling himself onto one of the stools in the kitchen, intent on watching Kojiro’s one-man show.

“Volare, oh oh,” Kojiro sings along with the music playing, while he’s finishing up making Yua’s bottle.

“E cantare, oh oh oh oh,” he grabs hold of the bottle.

“No wonder my happy heart sings,” he croons, while feeding her, swaying back and forth where he’s stood in the kitchen. “Your love has given me wings.”

And even though the lyrics switch between Italian and English, and Kaoru isn’t particularly strong in either language, the love seeping through every lyric falling from Kojiro’s mouth is very clear.

Yua is just as captivated as Kaoru, staring up attentively at Kojiro’s mouth as he sings.

After three months, they decide it’s time to start incorporating some of their other hobbies and activities back into their lives; the ones they had foregone in favour of figuring out what they were doing right at the start.

Kojiro hadn’t been able to workout as often as he used to, and he was massively feeling the effects (or rather, the lack of effects) it was having on his body. They rearranged some things with childcare, and Kaoru’s schedule, and now he was back on his regular workout regime.

Kaoru hadn’t had the opportunity to spend as much time working on Carla’s upgrades, or any other AI related work—at least not since the successful attempt on Yua’s baby monitors—and so they managed to carve out some time for him to do that, too.

They even missed their evenings winding down at Sia la luce, as simple as they were. And though they were just upstairs in Kojiro’s apartment, they decided to have their evening meals in the restaurant on a Friday night, for some semblance of normalcy and a change of scenery.

So, here they were—a Friday night, exactly twelve weeks after Yua entered the picture. They’re in their usual, respective positions: Kaoru sitting in front of the bar, and Kojiro behind it, both drinking wine. The only difference this time was Yua on top of the bar next to Kaoru, sleeping soundlessly in her carrier.

The front door opens abruptly (Kaoru silently curses Kojiro for not locking it.) Yua wakes and starts crying at the same time as Reki announcing himself, followed through the door by Langa and Miya.

Kaoru quickly picks Yua up to soothe her, giving Reki an angry pointed look; Reki immediately looks apologetic when he realises there’s a baby crying because of him.

Kojiro walks around the counter. “Hey, guys, what are you doing here?”

“We haven’t seen you guys at S in a while, we were wondering where you were,” Reki says, sheepishly. “Sorry, didn’t know there was a baby here.”

“It’s okay,” Kojiro says from where he’s now standing next to Kaoru, who is rocking Yua to try and calm her.

“Why is there a baby here?” Miya asks, sitting himself down at one of the tables. Reki and Langa curiously make their way over to Kaoru.

“Ah, she’s mine,” Kojiro says, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s kind of why we haven’t been at S.”

“Can I hold her?” Reki asks excitedly from next to the two older men. Kaoru frowns.

Yua has settled down a bit now, but he wasn’t sure how much to trust a seventeen year old with a three month old. The trepidation was clear in his face, so Reki quickly adds on “I have younger sisters, I’m really good with them, promise!”

Kaoru’s tentative gaze meets Kojiro’s, who nods his agreement, and Kaoru reluctantly passes Yua over to Reki; vehemently telling him to be careful on pain of death.

Kojiro smiles, resting a calming hand on Kaoru’s shoulder once his arms are baby-less.

“Doesn’t explain why Cherry hasn’t been at S,” Miya says, then when they’re all looking at him he adds “unless she’s his, too.”

Kaoru stiffens a bit and then inwardly winces when he realises Kojiro’s hand is still on his shoulder and he probably felt that.

“He’s helping me,” Kojiro explains. “Yua’s mother isn’t in the picture, she just has me. Needed some help to get me off my feet.”

“How old is she?” Langa asks, his eyes concentrating on Reki swaying Yua in his arms.

“Three months,” Kaoru says.

Kaoru never strays from Yua’s side the rest of the night—especially when one of the teenagers is holding her—and they all spend another couple of hours catching up, Kojiro bringing out leftover food for them to share while they do so.

They talk mostly about S—what Kojiro and Kaoru have missed while they’ve been away, the rumours that have seemingly spread about their disappearance. The teenagers ask when they’re coming back, and they say they’ll make arrangements to either have Kojiro’s parents babysit on S nights, or they agree to attend on alternating nights between the two of them.

Both of them are excited to get back to skateboarding, it being the one thing they’ve genuinely missed over the last three months, and neither of them want to risk losing any skills (as if they could, at this point.)

After the teenagers coax a bit more free food out of Kojiro, he’s able to eventually shoo them out the front door so that they can get Yua, and themselves, off to bed for the night.

It’s late afternoon by the time Kaoru has finished work, and as usual he stops by Kojiro’s parents to pick Yua up.

“Kaoru, sweetie,” Kojiro’s mother, Chieko, says in lieu of a greeting at the door. “Come in, come in.”

She hurries him inside and has him head towards the living room where Yua is currently by herself, and she heads to the kitchen to make a pot of tea for the two of them.

Kaoru is awfully familiar with the layout of this house, having spent more of his childhood here than he had in his own home.

When he gets into the living room, he finds Yua rolling around on her play mat on the floor—not yet old enough to be crawling around, but able to hold her own head up enough that she can be left to amuse herself in this way.

When she sees him, her eyes light up with recognition and she immediately starts gesturing for him to pick her up, making cooing and gooing noises.

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs, smiling down at her, picking her up, and settling himself onto one of the couches, placing Yua on his lap. She starts grasping at his hair, babbling and laughing, and he huffs out a chuckle of his own as he kisses her on the cheek. “I missed you, too.”

Chieko returns with the tea, placing it onto a nearby coffee table, and then makes herself comfortable on the seat opposite him.

The two of them make small talk about their day, Kaoru answering Chieko’s questions about his commissions and the students that he teaches in the afternoons.

Chieko tells him everything Yua had gotten up to that day, which for a baby of sixteen weeks is not a lot other than being entirely entertained by noisy, colourful toys, or by trying to eat her own hands.

Kaoru bounces Yua softly on his knee, where she is currently doing just that—she started out by grasping and playing with a rattle that he passed to her, but now she’s trying to fit both her hands and the rattle in her mouth in some variety.

“So, when are you moving my son and granddaughter into your big family home?” Chieko asks him, and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh,” Kaoru clears his throat, a little dumbfounded by how forward her question was. “I—well, they—they’re not.”

“Oh, why not?” She presses, but seems genuinely disappointed by his answer. “You still own your parents home, the one they left you when they retired and moved, right? With three bedrooms, and a big garden? Something like that would be perfect for the three of you.”

Kaoru is completely bewildered now. Does Kojiro’s mother think him and Kojiro are—are what exactly? Did Kojiro say something to her?

Realistically, Kaoru knows that what is happening between the two of them has long crossed the line of a normal friendship. It’s been four months, and he’s still there, helping Kojiro raise his daughter. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for someone to assume that him and Kojiro are… are together.

He clears his throat again. “I still own the house,” he says, but his voice is very small, not really sure what—or if—he should say to Chieko about their living situation.

“Oh, good,” she says, relieved. “Talk to Kojiro about it. That apartment is too small for you all, I think your place would be a wonderful house for Yua to grow up in.”

Kaoru realises then he doesn’t have the heart to say anything to her, especially not when he agrees, so he settles with “I’ll talk to him.”

In his overbearingly stubborn nature, Kaoru blames Kojiro for the situation they’re in.

It’s been five months now, and other than the meaningless comments skirting around the issue, neither of them had talked about why Kaoru was still there or why Kojiro hadn’t asked him to leave.

Kaoru has convinced himself that the ball is very much in Kojiro’s court for broaching the topic.

Firstly, this is Kojiro’s home. His child. His life that Kaoru has imposed himself upon, uninvited.

But secondly, and most importantly, Kaoru has absolutely no idea how Kojiro feels about him, or whether it’s even possible that his own feelings could be reciprocated.

They’ve known each other since kindergarten, and in their entire lives Kaoru has never known Kojiro to have feelings for another man. Never seen him in a relationship with another man, never seen him flirt with another man, never even seen him comment on another man’s attractiveness.

If Kojiro has noticed what’s happening here, between the two of them, then how could he expect Kaoru to be the one to come forward? Kaoru was openly gay, and Kojiro knew that, has always known that; but Kaoru couldn’t say the same for Kojiro, uncertain where his tendencies lay, despite thinking that they knew everything about each other.

For a long time, he has convinced himself that Kojiro hasn’t said anything yet because he just doesn’t want to hurt Kaoru’s feelings. He was always too caring in that way—sickeningly so, Kaoru thought.

Even so, it’s been five months, and Kaoru succumbs to the fact that he’ll have to be the one to pull the bandaid off, to bite the bullet. Kojiro was such a brainless idiot and Kaoru has always had to lead the way. Kaoru idly thinks that he should have known it wouldn’t be any different with this.

It’s another domestic Sunday, and Kaoru spent the morning watching Kojiro sing and dance around the kitchen; Yua in his arms the entire time, as they listened to his playlist of crooners.

Yua has started trying to place sounds together now, and she’s frequently mimicking their words; they spend most of their time with her, talking to her. Kaoru holds her against his hip, pointing to items and naming them, trying to get her to connect the two things, expanding her knowledge where he can.

Kojiro mostly talks baby talk to her, tickling her belly to make her laugh, and blowing raspberries at her, which is an action she can—and does—repeat, constantly.

By the time midday is nearing, Kaoru insists they head to the nearest cafe for lunch, a ten minute walk from where they are. He says it would be nice for a change, but he tries to steel himself thinking this will be when he talks to Kojiro about the elephant in the room.

They pack the bag of baby supplies, even though they won’t be far from home, and get Yua strapped into her pushchair, heading out to the cafe.

Once there, Kaoru orders some snacks and coffee, bringing them over to the table Kojiro had sat down at. Kojiro had already unstrapped Yua from her pushchair and was bouncing her on his knee where she was playing with a rattle he had handed to her.

The two men fall into their usual conversations, Kojiro always stopping and asking Yua what she thinks about what they’re talking about, involving her in everything.

She happily sits there on his lap—hands grabbing at what she can of her rattle, or Kojiro, trying to put things in her mouth, babbling, looking up at him and giggling.

As Kaoru watches, he realises the inevitable is impending and he tries to ready himself to bring the topic up.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s going to say—if he’s going to address it directly and tell Kojiro how he feels, or if he should do what Kojiro’s mother suggested and talk about moving in together, hoping the implication is clear and that the two of them can fall into family life together without ever having to talk about it.

He knows he can’t do the latter, though. He needs to know for definite how Kojiro feels, needs to know if it’s reciprocated or if Kojiro is just humouring him, happy to have him around as a close friend and the uncle to his daughter.

His inner scrutiny must show on his face, because eventually Kojiro asks him if he’s okay.

Kaoru immediately panics, and excuses himself to use the restroom, leaving Kojiro playing with Yua on his lap.

He splashes his face with some water, and tries to give himself a pep talk in the mirror. It doesn’t work, but he knows he can’t stay here all afternoon, so he heads back into the cafe.

When he walks out, though, he stops dead in his tracks. There are a couple of women standing at their table, chatting to Kojiro, and they’re clearly fawning all over him. A sight he’s seen one too many times for his own liking.

Kojiro—who is still bouncing Yua on his lap as she focuses on her rattle—says something to the women, flashing one of his usual charming grins in their direction. They both laugh, and one of the women touches his shoulder in a suggestive way.

Normally this would be where Kaoru’s jealousy would immediately bubble up into anger. This time, though, he just feels sick. A pit forming in his stomach like he’s never known before.

This was the answer that he was looking for—he should have known it all along. Kojiro could meet someone, settle down, and have a happy family where Yua would have two normal parents, a normal childhood.

It hits him like a truck when he realises he got himself in this deep, and now he has to walk away from not only Kojiro, but Yua too—and he’s never known pain like it.

His rubs away some stray tears prickling his eyes, and walks out of the cafe back to Kojiro’s (not his, never his) apartment.

When he gets there, he quickly throws a courtesy text to Kojiro saying ‘not feeling well, went home, stay and finish your coffee.’

He heads into the bedroom, gets out the overnight bag he brought all those months ago, and hopes he can fill it with his things and leave before Kojiro gets back.

He doesn’t want to make a scene, doesn’t want to argue. He just wants to do what’s right by Yua.

If that means standing back, and getting out of the way so Kojiro can find the happy family that Kaoru wishes they could have been, then so be it.

He’ll do what he has to, for her.

Chapter Text

Kojiro smiles down at Yua sitting in his lap, playing with her rattle; his hand cradling the back of her head, and his thumb running over her hair.

“She really is beautiful,” the brunette says from where she’s standing next to Kojiro.

“I agree,” he confirms, turning to face the two women and flashing his most charming grin in their direction—or, at least, attempting to. It’s not sincere. “But then, I might be biased,” he tacks on at the end, and both women laugh.

“Are you raising her all on your own?” the redhead asks, her hand finding its way to Kojiro’s shoulder. Her question, and touch, are suggestive—a lilt to her tone indicating that she is interested in more ways than one.

Kojiro is no stranger to this type of attention. Usually, he basks in it—a means of escape, a bit of fun for everyone involved, nothing more.

This time though, it’s unwarranted, and he feels a level of discomfort he hasn’t experienced before.

Not only because he feels as though he’s betraying Kaoru—they’re not technically together, not yet, but the feeling of disloyalty rushes through every fibre of his being regardless. But it also doesn’t sit right with him that he has somehow attracted attention at Yua’s expense.

“Ah,” he starts, fake grin still plastered on his face. “Thankfully not,” he says, leaning over to pick up the rattle that Yua has just dropped, using it as an excuse to move away from the unwanted touch still lingering on his shoulder. “My boyfriend is really the one who does all the heavy lifting.”

There’s a slight pang of guilt at the lie about his relationship status (and another pang of something else when he refers to Kaoru as his ‘boyfriend’); it does the trick anyway, and Kojiro silently rejoices when he watches their faces instinctively drop at his words.

They both quickly regain their composure, but Kojiro has already clocked the change in their attitudes towards him.

“He’s a lucky man to have you both,” the brunette says, and he almost wants to laugh at how her smile now is clearly as disingenuous as his had been moments earlier.

“Try telling him that,” Kojiro chuckles. “At least the part about him being lucky to have me, anyway.”

After that, the women swiftly make their excuses to leave and are gone within a matter of minutes. Kojiro breathes a sigh of relief.

“If you weren’t so cute, they might not have come over here,” he softly chastises Yua, but there’s a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, knowing this was never her fault.

When he speaks in her direction, she loses all focus on trying to fit the rattle in her mouth, and instead looks up at him, doe-eyed. He huffs out a laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers into her hair when he kisses her on the head. “Daddy loves you so much.”

They stay like that for a while longer while they wait for Kaoru to return; Kojiro playing with Yua, holding onto her rattle while she grabs for it, her grabbing for his hand, too—entirely huge in her tiny little ones.

He wonders idly if Kaoru is okay. He had been acting weird all day, up until he abruptly excused himself from the table. Kojiro thought it was because maybe—finally—Kaoru was going to talk to him about what was happening between them.

Really, he’d been mentally kicking himself for the last few weeks for not having had the nerve to do it himself. Especially since that lazy Sunday morning in bed, when he wanted to do nothing more than give Kaoru a good morning kiss where they were lying, bodies already pressed against each other.

Even if Kaoru hadn’t intended on talking to him about it today, he thought—maybe—he might. He wants to know what this is, more so now than ever, now that he had to endure that conversation with those women. Kojiro hopes that the next time he calls Kaoru his boyfriend, it won’t be a lie.

Another few minutes pass, and he’s getting increasingly more concerned that Kaoru hasn’t returned to the table. Deciding to check on him, he straps Yua into her pushchair and begins packing away the few items they had out. Then his phone buzzes from the table and he frowns down at it.

Kaoru’s text definitely doesn’t make him feel any less concerned, and he quickly finishes packing everything away, hastily making his way out of the cafe to head home.

It’s an honest to god struggle for Kojiro to fit himself, Yua’s pushchair, and the bag on his shoulder through the tiny frame of his front door when he gets there.

He huffs out an exhausted sigh from having to lug everything around. Even with a body built for exertion, hauling around a baby and everything that comes with it is definitely a task easier for two people to accomplish, he thinks.

Kojiro notices Kaoru’s shoes by the door when he sets the bag down to take his own off. That, at least, alleviated some of the panic that had built up on his ten minute journey home, when he had somehow convinced himself that when Kaoru text him saying he was going ‘home’, he didn’t mean this one.

“Kaoru?” he calls out into the apartment, bending down to remove Yua from the pushchair. She was making noises and fidgeting, clearly wanting out from under the straps.

He doesn’t get a response but he continues freeing Yua anyway, scooping her up into his arms and resting her against his side, murmuring all sorts of loving affirmations as he does so.

Once she’s comfortable leaning against him, she smiles up at him, palming at his face. He smiles back at her, kissing her hands when they get near his mouth.

“You happy, baby?” he asks softly. “Shall we go see if uncle Kaoru is okay?”

Walking further into the apartment, he calls out “Kaoru,” again, as he heads toward the bedroom. “Is everything ok—” his heart sinks when he rounds the corner into the room.

Kaoru is stood at the foot of the bed, filling his bag. He doesn’t look up from what he’s doing.

“Wh—are you leaving?” Kojiro asks, whispers almost, not trying to mask the hurt and confusion in his voice.

Yua starts fidgeting from her position at Kojiro’s side, leaning towards Kaoru and making straining noises, indicating she wants out of Kojiro’s arms and into his.

Kojiro shifts her upwards; tries to get a better hold of her, tries to get her comfortable, but it’s futile. She wants Kaoru’s attention now, not his.

“Can you take her?” he asks, walking over to Kaoru. “And then maybe we can talk about this,” he adds on, hopeful, but there’s still hurt in his voice.

Kaoru ignores him, slightly turning his head in the opposite direction, and continues to fold and pack clothes into his bag.

Kojiro is close enough now that Yua can grab onto Kaoru’s sleeve. She’s still fidgeting and whining, trying to get Kaoru’s attention, and on the verge of crying.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro says sternly. “Don’t do this,” but the sternness slips into something a little more pleading. “I don’t care if you’re mad at me, but don’t take this out on her. She doesn’t understand.”

Kaoru’s shoulders slump in defeat as he immediately turns to take Yua from Kojiro, never once looking up to meet his gaze.

He places her comfortably on his own side, holding her close, kissing the top of her head and whispering “I’m sorry, darling,” into her hair, followed by a few more apologetic kisses.

She quietens down, and starts grabbing and palming at Kaoru the way she had done with Kojiro minutes ago, babbling at him and tangling her hands in the loose ponytail hanging over his shoulder.

Kaoru still faces Kojiro but keeps his focus entirely on Yua, smiling at her as she plays with his hair. But from where he stands, Kojiro can see the sadness in his eyes despite the smile.

“Why are you leaving? Why now?” Kojiro asks, and there’s a momentary pause when he realises he’s not going to get an answer, so he continues.

“Is it the apartment? Do you want to go home? Because we can come with you,” and if Kojiro sounds desperate now, he doesn’t try to hide it.

Kaoru shakes his head, and Kojiro’s heart sinks even further.

“Kaoru, please,” he pleads. “Tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Kaoru says, but he sounds hesitant. “It’s just time I leave.”

“But—why? Why now?” Kojiro presses.

Kaoru looks at him then, but the smile on his face is still tinged with sadness, defeat, exhaustion.

“We can’t keep pretending to play happy families forever, Kojiro.”

“Who’s pretending?” he asks immediately, and there’s a hint of uncertainty that crosses Kaoru’s eyes.

There’s another moment of silence. No movement, except Yua in Kaoru’s arms, entertaining herself with his hair still, entirely oblivious to the conversation happening and the tension accompanying it.

The two of them stand in the silence, existing in the same space—as they do, as they have done for so long. Kaoru is trying to hold himself together; standing so solidly, attempting to seem firm in his decision to leave.

But everything Kojiro knows so well about him give away his real feelings; there’s doubt in Kaoru’s features, in his body language, and Kojiro realises now that he should have acknowledged his feelings long before now. He doesn’t remember why he didn’t.

Kaoru laid himself, and his feelings, bare just by being here—for him, for Yua—this whole time.

Now it was Kojiro’s turn.

“Kaoru,” he breathes his name out so tenderly, and he takes a moment to brush some hair out of Kaoru’s face and behind his ear, needing a clear view of his face for this. And then he asks again. “Who’s pretending?”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru tries, but his voice is shaky. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all, if you just stay,” Kojiro’s voice is firm now, because he needs Kaoru to see how sure he is. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Kojiro, I— I just—” Kaoru flounders, but then he steels himself and continues. “I’ll just get in the way.”

“Of what?”

“Yours, and Yua’s, happiness,” his voice cracks. “You can meet someone, start a real family—she can have a real childhood.”

“Kaoru, this is a real family,” Kojiro says. “Look at her,” he gestures to Yua hoping the brightness shining in her eyes as she looks up at Kaoru will help him prove his point.

“Yua loves you,” and Kojiro’s own features soften as he talks. “She even chose you over me, just now,” he chuckles, an attempt to release some of the tension choking the room.

“Well, she is intelligent,” Kaoru huffs out a small laugh. “At least she hasn’t inherited your idiocy,” he adds on, meekly, a halfhearted attempt to join in with Kojiro’s effort to lighten the mood.

“Exactly,” Kojiro agrees, easily. “She gets her intelligence from you.”

Kaoru stiffens, there’s another momentary pause between the two of them and then, “Kojiro, you knew why I was here,” is quietly spoken into the air between them. “This entire time, you knew.”

“Yeah,” Kojiro confirms, as gently as he can manage. “I knew.”

“I don’t want to leave her, or—or you,” Kaoru’s eyes are brimming with wetness now. “But if you—if you’re just settling for me because I’m already here… I can’t, it’s too—I don’t want that. I only want to stay if—because you want—” he doesn’t finish the thought, his voice too broken and wet.

Kojiro takes a moment to gather all the things he wants to say. He knows Kaoru isn’t delicate, but it’s clear that he’s let this go on too long and he has unintentionally hurt Kaoru in the process.

“Oh, Kaoru,” he starts; soft, tender. He rests a hand on Kaoru’s cheek, fingers curling against the back of his head, a way to get him to meet his gaze.

“I love you,” Kojiro finally says, his thumb running under Kaoru’s eye, just under the rim of his glasses, to catch a stray tear. “Of course I want you here.”

Kaoru is silent, his face studious. But he never removes his eyes from Kojiro’s, and Kojiro remains silent too, letting Kaoru calculate what he needs to.

“For how long?” he finally asks.

“Honestly? I’m not sure,” Kojiro starts, but doesn’t pause long enough for Kaoru to interject by calling him an ‘idiot’, although he sees the thought flash across his face anyway.

“Maybe since the first day of kindergarten when you hit me after I pulled your hair, but then I gave you my juice box and we played together all afternoon,” Kojiro lets his thumb carelessly rub circles on Kaoru’s cheek as he talks, careful not to knock his glasses.

“Or maybe it was the first time we tried skating,” he lets out a slight chuckle at the memory. “You scraped your knee and I tried to kiss it better because you were crying, but it was dirty and tasted horrible, and you couldn’t stop laughing at me.”

Kojiro feels the slight breath being exhaled from Kaoru’s lips in a chuckle of his own.

“Could’ve been the school trip to Tokyo Disneyland,” Kojiro smiles, his eyes gleaming, and a playful tone to his voice now. “When you got sick on Space Mountain because you ate too many of those alien mochi dumplings. I sat with you in first aid for the rest of the day while everyone else went on rides. You vouched to never eat mochi again.”

He removes his hand from Kaoru’s cheek and pushes some more loose hair back behind his ear, letting his hand linger, ghosting a touch over the side of Kaoru’s face. “So I promised to cook you Italian food for the rest of your life, instead,” and they both knew, to this day, he had kept that promise.

“There was that time when you came into school one day and your ear was pierced,” and when Kojiro starts talking about this memory, his thumb grazes over the piercing holes still visible on his ear.

“I couldn’t stop staring because I thought you were the coolest person I’d ever known and yet you still continued to hang out with a loser like me,” Kojiro chuckles. “Still do,” he exhales.

“Or maybe,” he gives pause to this memory, wondering if he wants to share it, knowing he’d never told Kaoru this before.

Kaoru doesn’t say anything in the silence, not wanting to interrupt him, intent on hearing his full speech. He holds Yua still at his side, and her head is starting to droop down against his shoulder as she begins to drift to sleep.

“Maybe it was when Hanako—you remember her?” Kojiro asks rhetorically, knowing that Kaoru definitely remembers his first girlfriend. “I was so excited about her, but then she got jealous and told me I had to pick—her or you,” when the words are finally out of Kojiro’s mouth, Kaoru frowns slightly.

“I didn’t need to hesitate on that one,” Kojiro clarifies, scratching at the back of his own neck. “I’d always pick you. Always will,” he says, softly.

Kaoru looks like he’s about to say something, but Kojiro doesn’t let him. Not yet.

“Remember at Katsumi’s wedding?” he asks, again rhetorically. “When she gave that speech about how lucky she was to have married her best friend? Sitting next to you, listening to everything she was saying, I thought—I thought, everything sounded so familiar, and she really is lucky to be able to spend her life with her best friend. I hope I’m that lucky, too,” and he lets out another exhale, but this one is shaky and wet, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“When—when you had the accident, at S, and you went down,” and Kojiro’s hand starts shaking at this memory. “God, Kaoru, the sound still plays in my mind sometimes. Holding you unconscious in my arms on the way to the hospital, I really thought that was the end, y’know,” and a couple of tears roll down his cheeks.

“And now,” Kojiro brings his hand to stroke gently at the back of Yua’s head resting on Kaoru’s shoulder, careful not to disturb her. “With Yua and you, right here,” he almost whispers, “I’ve realised I have everything I ever needed.”

Kojiro moves both his hands up to cup Kaoru’s face.

“It took me a while to see it for what it was, because you’ve always been here. I’ve never known a life without it, and when I was looking for it, it never occurred to me that I already had it,” Kojiro concludes. “I fell in love with you somewhere in between all of that.”

He uses his thumbs resting on Kaoru’s cheeks to catch any tears openly freeing themselves from his eyes.

“I’m sorry that it took me so long, Kaoru,” and he leans down, finally, to capture Kaoru’s lips with his own.

Their first kiss is so light, barely grazing the surface, tentative even after Kojiro had just laid his feelings bare. When he pulls away, Kaoru follows after it, loathe to lose it, and Kojiro lets out a low chuckle that fogs his glasses.

And then, even after all of that, the first word out of Kaoru’s mouth is “dimwit,” but it’s all too fond, and wet, and happy, and Kojiro chuckles again when he leans back down into another kiss.

This time, Kaoru’s hand—the one not currently holding a baby—quickly shoots up to the back of Kojiro’s neck, deepening the kiss in the process and cementing Kojiro in his place, so he doesn’t lose this one as easily.

It’s chaste but sweet, and they’re pressed as close to each other as they can manage with Kaoru being distinctly aware not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

When they part, they’re both smiling as they rest their foreheads against each other.

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life,” Kaoru finally admits, and Kojiro smiles in retaliation; leaving small kisses at the corner of Kaoru’s mouth, nose, cheek, jawline, before making his way back to take his lips again, slotting themselves together all too easily.

Yua starts to fuss at Kaoru’s side; tired, not in the most comfortable sleeping position to begin with, and having been disturbed by their actions. She lets out a few whines, on the verge of crying.

They gently laugh into each others mouths, and separate from the kiss.

“Your daughter is getting tired,” Kojiro comments.

“Yes, well, it is—” Kaoru pauses as his brain catches up with Kojiro’s words, and Kojiro watches in amusement. “It is her usual nap time,” he finishes, meekly.

“How about I go make us some coffee,” Kojiro chuckles. “While her other daddy puts her down for her nap.”

Kaoru hesitates while he processes the meaning behind Kojiro’s words, but he meets Kojiro’s still amused eyes anyway, and nods his agreement.

“Okay, then,” Kojiro smiles, turning to head out of the room, but he’s interrupted when he gets to the door.

“Papa,” is all Kaoru says.

Kojiro turns, confused. “What?”

“I think—I think I want her to call me ‘papa’,” he clarifies.

“Well, it is a much better fit than ‘uncle’,” Kojiro grins, his eyes glistening. “Welcome home, papa.”

Shouldering his way through the door, Kojiro walks from the kitchen into the main restaurant area, Yua planted firmly against his hip.

“Looks good, babe,” he says when he reaches Kaoru, who pouts at the pet name but continues to fumble with the remaining decorations in his hands.

“Not good enough,” Kaoru mumbles, leaning into Kojiro’s touch when his spare hand comes to rest on Kaoru’s hip and his lips place a kiss on his forehead.

“What do you think, Yua?” Kojiro asks.

Yua hums happily in response, attempting to clap her hands together because that’s her favourite thing to do at the moment.

“See?” Kojiro laughs. “Seal of approval from the birthday girl herself.”

“Fine,” Kaoru concedes, huffing out a laugh over his daughter’s enthusiasm. “If you want to settle for less than perfection, that’s on you,” he sternly tells Kojiro, pointing a finger at him.

“No one remembers their first birthday anyway,” Kojiro chuckles. “Speaking of perfection, though, I have to check on the food,” he explains as he transfers Yua into Kaoru’s open arms. He runs a thumb over her cheek and tells her, “you help papa with the decorating.”

Kaoru mumbles “happy birthday, sweetheart,” into her hair when he kisses her, and Kojiro watches contently before excusing himself to do what he said he was going to.

They had closed Sia la luce for the birthday celebrations.

It was only their immediate family that were joining them for the day, although Kaoru had thought even that was too many people with Kojiro’s family alone. But Kaoru’s parents were coming too, and he was as excited as he was nervous, so he was trying to distract himself with the decorations.

Yua starts fidgeting from Kaoru’s arms, indicating she wanted to be put down on the floor. She had started walking (kind of) and now that she had found her own feet, she wanted to explore everywhere she could.

Kaoru had never been one to stifle her curiosity. He gently helps her onto her feet, standing behind her and holding onto her arms as she walks, investigating every inch of Sia la luce she can reach.

It’s easier for her to do it like this, today, since he’d rearranged the tables into the middle of the restaurant for the family to sit with each other during the festivities; freeing up space for Yua to play and roam.

Kaoru lets her lead the way, only walking with her in his grasp to make sure she doesn’t fall and hurt herself, and before long Kojiro returns from the kitchen confirming that the food is ready to go once everyone arrives. Kaoru responds with a noncommittal hum, too focused on where Yua is stepping.

She, of course, immediately wants to change course toward Kojiro when she spots him, and Kaoru adjusts to help her get there. As she slowly waddles over to Kojiro, it’s clear she’s trying to say “dada,” now that she’s able to make more sounds that resemble real words.

Kojiro beams down at her, then gets onto his knees so that he’s more accessible for her.

“Hey there, birthday girl,” he says, his voice tender, once she reaches him. He places his hands around her middle to hold her steady, and she tries to climb up onto him.

He lifts her up so she’s above his head and he’s looking up at her, and she starts giggling and grabbing at his face. He chuckles along with her, leaving a splattering of kisses all over her tummy, cheeks, forehead, hair.

He lowers her into his arms to rest against his side, their faces parallel, and he kisses her cheek once more.

“Opening that front door one year ago today was the best decision I ever made,” he says softly. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” he rests his head gently against hers, and her arms hug around his face.

Kaoru watches on silently, blissfully, eternally grateful to whoever it was that left her on the doorstep of Sia la luce for giving him this.

And then the calm before the storm fades when the family start arriving.

Kaoru’s parents, Akira and Jun, are first. They haven’t met Yua yet, haven’t even seen Kaoru in over a year and a half. It wasn’t on purpose—they’ve mostly spent their retirement travelling, and even when they’re not, they no longer live in Okinawa, so it’s rare that they stop by.

They’re eager to meet Yua, but even so, the Sakurayashiki’s have never been ones for obvious acts of affection; their greetings are reserved, tinged with something slightly too formal for a family gathering.

After exchanging pleasantries, they all settle at the table. Akira asks Kojiro how his restaurant is doing, and both he and Jun congratulate Kojiro on all his successes. They talk business for a small while before the conversation finally lands on Yua.

Despite their usual lack of sentimentality, Yua is currently sat on her new grandmother’s lap—as fascinated with her long pink hair as she is with her own papa’s—and both grandparents are completely enamoured with getting to know her in person.

Before this, they had only seen her in photos that Kaoru had sent over, and the occasional video call every couple months.

Kojiro had known Kaoru was anxious about them meeting, worried that he had upset his parents because he technically hadn’t told them they were grandparents until their granddaughter was already five months old.

They had been more than understanding after he explained the whole story, of course, but Kaoru still had a wave of anxiety wash over him thinking that it was an unusual situation, and his parents would be uncomfortable all night.

But as Kojiro and Kaoru sit next to each other watching Yua with her grandparents—the two men holding hands under the table, Kojiro rubbing circles into Kaoru’s hand with his thumb—he can feel Kaoru relax, an almost hidden smile gracing his lips. Kojiro gives him a quick peck on the cheek, for good measure.

Once Kojiro’s family start arriving, it starts to get loud; an air of comfort, love, familiarity, and warmth settling easily over the restaurants atmosphere.

Katsumi, her husband Masaru, and their three children are the first to arrive from the Nanjo side of the family. Kojiro’s eldest nephew, Ryu, saunters in as if he has better places to be, but his two youngest nieces immediately run and jump on him, trying to climb on him in any way possible.

Kojiro picks up Suki, the three year old, from where she’s trying to get up his leg and puts her on his back, where she promptly starts to braid his hair.

His parents, twin sisters, and youngest nephew are next to come through the door, and when Sora—now four years old—sees Suki on Kojiro’s back, he also hastily runs and jumps on Kojiro, wanting the same treatment.

Yua is visibly excited by all the commotion, so Kaoru puts her on the floor to help her walk over to Kojiro. When they get there, he doesn’t let Yua climb on Kojiro like her cousins, but Kaoru picks her up so she can be the same height as everyone else.

He makes a haughty joke under his breath about how Kojiro’s body is so ridiculously large that he can even act like a climbing frame in the first place, and Kojiro chuckles.

Eventually, they all settle down for food when the two men bring it out to the table.

Yua sits in Kojiro’s lap while they eat. He mostly nibbles on his food, too preoccupied with making sure she eats hers. He had made her a small plate of spaghetti, and she grabs it in fistfuls, palming it into her mouth, and in the process makes a mess of herself, the table, and Kojiro’s pants.

Kei, his six year old niece, sits next to Kaoru and spends all of dinner asking questions to (and about) Carla, watching with fascination as the bracelet on Kaoru’s arm lights up and answers her.

After dinner, the children—including Yua—move to the empty floor space and play together, the grandparents watching over them from the end of the table.

Kojiro and Kaoru sit in quiet comfort next to each other, exhausted but content from the day so far. Kojiro’s arm is draped across the back of Kaoru’s chair, and they’re both watching the children play.

When Kojiro turns his head around to smile at Kaoru, he leans down to press a kiss onto his shoulder. He rests his head there for a beat and whispers “love you,” to his boyfriend.

“Love you, too,” Kaoru whispers back, onto the top of Kojiro’s head where he places a kiss of his own.

Kojiro lifts his head to join their lips together, and they both smile into the kiss. It starts off chaste, but deepens the longer it goes on, and when they’re forced to break apart for air they go straight back in for another, and another, until—

“Get a room,” Kaori scoffs, from the opposite side of the table, where she is sitting with Kojiro’s other two sisters.

Kojiro laughs into Kaoru’s mouth, leaves one final small peck on his lips, and then says “I pay rent for this whole place, doesn’t that count?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Koemi adds in. “Took you guys long enough to figure your shit out, though.”

Katsumi hums in agreement. “Honestly, Kojiro, you’re such an idiot.”

Kaoru has taken out his fan from his sleeve by this point, and he opens it to hide his laugh behind.

“How did this turn into me being an idiot?” Kojiro asks, incredulous.

“I don’t spend nearly as much time with Kaoru as you do,” Katsumi starts. “And even I knew he was in love with you.”

“You—wait, what?” Kojiro falters. “That doesn’t mean anything, you were just assuming.”

“Sure,” Katsumi agrees. “But then when I asked him, he told me.”

Kojiro turns his head from Katsumi to Kaoru, a bewildered look on his face. “You told her?”

“Yes. But she is right,” Kaoru says, through a blush. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, well,” Kojiro scoffs. “Your idiot, now” he mumbles, kissing Kaoru gently on the cheek, and Kaoru’s blush darkens.

“Oh, god,” Kaori groans, and places her head in her hands. “You’re both gonna be insufferable.”

“I hope he was worth the wait, Kaoru,” Katsumi chuckles.

“The jury’s still out on that one,” Kaoru says and Kojiro bristles.

Kaoru ignores his reaction, though, and looks past his boyfriend to briefly watch Yua playing with her cousins; smiling, laughing, trying to put sounds together to make words so she can talk with them.

“Yua, though,” Kaoru says, slowly. “She was worth the wait.”