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The first time Kuroo heard his dad cry was when he was four years old.
He'd woken up to raised voices again. Then listened to something shatter, more yelling, and the slam of the apartment door.
Silently he crept out of his bedroom wrapped in a Batman blanket. There on the couch—glasses in hand, palm to face, dark hair wild from frustration—was his dad whose tears were free flowing from his fingers.
"Daddy?"
His father startled—looking up at the little ghost blanket boy who could be considered his carbon copy mini-me.
"Tetsurou," Kuroo senior sniffed heavily, wiping half his face. It was still wet and red and bruised on one cheek. "Come here buddy. It's okay."
Tetsurou bolted to his father's lap where he climbed up and immediately laid his head on his chest. His dad's heart was beating so fast.
"I'm sorry we woke you up again..."
"It's otay," Tetsurou snuggled into him.
"It's not otay kiddo. You don't need… You don't deserve—"
The protective arms that always held him when he was scared shuddered around him. Tetsurou felt the cold drip, drip, drip into his crazy bedhead. He didn't know what to say.
After a moment, his father calmed down enough to sniff loudly and blow his stress out in one long breath.
"Daddy's going to get us out of this someday Tetsurou. No more waking you up with our fights. It's not fair to you."
Little Kuroo peered up into his father's face and smooshed his small palm over the unwiped cheek. Then patted it twice.
"Mommy said boys don't cry."
The arms around him stiffened.
"Mommy says a lot of things that aren't true. Boys do cry. Don't you ever forget that, Tetsurou. You're allowed to have feelings. Don't ever be ashamed of them," his dad explained, hugging his son tighter.
"Kay," Tetsurou yawned and sat there quite content to cuddle until he fell asleep in his father's arms.
Kuroo was too young to remember that night, but he did remember the second time he saw his dad cry—when he was told his parents were getting a divorce.
"What's that mean?" Tetsurou had asked, blinking at the obvious worry on his father's face.
"It means we're moving out, away from your mother. She won't be able to yell at us anymore or break your things."
Little Kuroo was still bitter with her over the unwarranted death of his soccer ball.
"We're moving?" Tetsurou echoed.
"We're going to stay with ojiichan and obaachan to start and then I'm going to look for a new job so we can get you into a good school. Get a nice house in a neighborhood where you can make new friends."
"A new school? New friends?" The rooster-headed kid asked, feeling panic rise in his chest.
"Yes," his dad nodded, eyes flinching as they absorbed the sting of his son's realization.
"But I like my friends! We can't move away!"
"I know you do. I'm so sorry it has to be this way. I never wanted… I always thought…"
"Dad, can't we stay instead? Make mom move! She's never here anyway," Tetsurou continued, his desperation rising. Face screwing up into crumpled shades of anger and hurt.
"I can't even make her respect a restraining order," his dad muttered more to himself.
Rage filled his young son.
"If we move then I'll just run away!" Tetsurou suddenly yelled, shoving himself back from the kitchen table. "You can't make me go! I don't want to! I don't WANT to!"
"Tetsurou, we have to—"
"I hate you!"
A few stray tears fled down his dad's cheeks before he could stop them.
Tetsurou regretted his words instantly.
His father removed his glasses and shielded his eyes behind a hand.
"You can hate me," he said quietly into the silence of their emptied home. "All you want. But we still have to go. I'm sorry I couldn't do any better..."
Moving was hard, but eventually Tetsurou got used to his new life in a new home with his old grandparents and his dad's new teaching job at the university. Most importantly, he did make new friends, the best of them being his kid neighbor Kenma who liked Zelda and watermelon and had a TV in his room.
It was with Kenma that he heard his father cry for a third time, beyond the hydrangeas and over the Kozume-Kuroo fence. His volleyball hit the ground when he heard the low sobs. He ran to find him.
"What happened dad?" A dirt-smudged Tetsurou asked, but in that moment his father didn't say. He couldn't say. He didn't have the heart to tell him yet.
In a bizarre twist of fate that summer, he was forced to go stay with his mom against all the prior custody agreements. His dad had tried everything to stop it from happening but wasn't successful and that's why he sat by himself on their back porch crying tears of frustration and failure until his son had come to see what was wrong.
Later his dad admitted to wishing he'd just disobeyed the court outright. Then Tetsurou wouldn't have had to endure his mother's hellfire. Wouldn't have had the nightmares that he did for months, years after that.
Tetsurou eventually realized his dad had suffered much more than himself from that incident. He grieved for his son over and over and was so afraid that the terrible experience would have ripple effects into his self esteem as he grew. Always afraid that it would all come back to haunt them.
The fourth time Kuroo saw his dad cry was when he'd found him at the bridge—the special place he and Kenma always used to play as kids and now as teenagers used as a space to talk when things were too sensitive to be overheard at home.
"TETSUROU!"
Kuroo opened his eyes in the grass as he laid sprawled out waiting for Kenma.
"Oh my god…" He heard distantly above and then running footsteps.
"Dad?" Kuroo wiped the drool from mouth. He hadn't meant to fall asleep waiting.
His old man nearly tripped down the bank to get to him.
"What're you—" Kuroo started, leaning up on his forearms to stare dumbfounded at his father clutching a piece of paper.
His dad barreled into him, shaking and out of breath.
"Dad, what happened? Dad? Are you running from the yakuza or something? Do we need to hide you? What did you do—flunk some big boss's kid in chemistry?" Kuroo struggled to get them to their feet or minimally their knees.
"Tetsurou, what the hell is this?" His father sobbed into his shoulder, the note crumpled against his son's chest.
Kuroo's eyes widened.
"Where did you… You… you read that?"
"You left it in your room! I thought you—I thought you were going to—"
He couldn't finish, he just clutched his kid tightly to him, so grateful for his big, beating heart.
"Dad, holy CRAP—it's not THAT kind of note! I was just… It was for Kenma, not you. Well, theoretically at least. Practice I guess. I need to tell him… I… Oh god…"
"But you said you can't 'live like this' anymore?" His dad backed up to look at him. Kuroo's face was flushing red.
"I did..."
"And that you're sorry for hurting him?"
"Well, I am," Kuroo sighed.
"And that you wish things could be different but—"
"Dad, I love him, okay?!" The teenager snapped.
The wind filled the blades of grass between them.
"Ah—oh," his dad blinked. "So you're not—"
"NO, I'm not! I would never do that dad, good GOD. This is why you shouldn't just go reading crap in my room—"
But Kuroo didn't get to finish that thought because his dad crushed him into another overbearing hug.
"I thought I was too late," he shuddered into his son.
"No, even worse you’re right on time—he's going to be here any second."
"Okay, okay," his dad sniffed, letting go and looking at his son with new eyes. "So you're only gay?"
"Only a little," Kuroo frowned. "Or bi? I don't know pops, I just like Kenma and I don't really care what people want to call that."
"Oh thank goodness," his dad sighed, wiping his tears and realizing there were the curious eyes of passersby watching them. "So you're going to tell him? Right now?"
"I had planned on it, but it doesn't feel very private anymore to be honest," Kuroo lamented.
"I'm sorry kiddo, I thought the worst. I didn't realize you had a crush on Kenma-kun. How long has that been a thing?"
"DAD," Kuroo groaned.
"Kuro?" Kenma called from the top of the bank, frowning down at the father and son duo.
"Wow, this is the worst," Kuroo waved and smiled fakely up at his best friend and secret heart throb.
"Okay, I'll go, I'll go. Good luck!" His dad whispered. "See you boys later!"
"Is your dad okay?" Kenma asked, watching his neighbor go.
"He's a tidal wave of emotion," Kuroo shrugged.
"Like father, like son."
Kuroo shouldered his best friend and took him for a walk to the nearest konbini instead. He'd table the real conversation for later when he wasn't so shaken up over the fact that his dad thought he'd lost him. He vowed to never let him worry like that again. He wouldn't be so distant. He'd make an effort to check in with him more often.
This promise was fairly well kept at least until both boys disappeared for college, but then it rebounded after they'd moved back into the suburbs. They visited his dad when they could and Kuroo still called him for advice which made him feel needed again.
Although infrequent, Kuroo did still need his father—especially the closer they got to the wedding.
"He's really anxious," Kuroo admitted over the phone one night. "It's so bad he actually went to go talk to his mom…"
"Why didn't you come home too? You could have visited me."
"He needs his space. And also I CALLED you, old man. What more do you want?"
"I want to see my son happily married to his partner and to also see him quit doubting said partner's intentions," his dad flat out told him.
"Well, I'm nervous too," Kuroo admitted.
"Of course you are. He's your everything Tetsurou."
"You're going to be such a sappy father-in-law. Kenma won't know what to do."
"I'll take sappy," his dad chuckled.
And he wholeheartedly did because the fifth time Kuroo really saw his dad cry was when he stood hand in hand with Kenma as he said his vows. Out of the corner of his eye, his father sat in the front row with happy tears streaming down his face.
Kuroo said a silent thank you to his dad for everything he'd done in life to get him to this point, then refocused his own blurred vision to his groom.
"Don't cry," Kenma whispered to him, smiling and squeezing his hand as Kuroo paused for a deep breath.
"That old guy over there always said I could," Kuroo sniffed quietly back.
Kenma sighed.
"Then I guess you'd better listen to him."
Kuroo did and Kenma sealed their marriage with a kiss as he thumbed away his husband's tears.
Life gave Kuroo's father many reasons to cry, but by far his favorite was seeing his son at long last go on to live the happily ever after he'd never actually had himself.