Work Text:
The spot next to you is warm when you roll over, hand falling to rest on the mattress.
Warm but empty.
You crack open an eye, frowning at the rumpled pillow and sheets and the husband-shaped absence on them. Kita’s nowhere to be seen. The crib next to your bed is empty too. Sitting up, you blink blearily at the door, which is ajar just enough for a dim light to filter through the crack.
When you step out into the hallway, thin coverlet draped over your shoulders, you can hear something from a distance away—a voice perhaps—but can’t quite make it out, so you follow the sound of it.
Rounding the corner, you see Kita standing in the living room, his back turned towards you. He’s dressed in checkered pajamas and a white t-shirt, tanned arms on display under the light of the living room. His hair’s a little disheveled from his sleep, a tuft of gray and black near the nape of his neck sticking up. The sight is adorable, a far cry different from his usual, well-groomed and composed look.
Kita’s facing the window, gazing out at the stars blooming across the sky and the moon casting a breathtaking glow over the fields.
A lump rises in your throat—damn your hormones—when you see something far more adorable than him: your daughter all bundled up, cradled carefully in Kita’s arms like there’s nothing in the world more precious. His hand, rough and calloused from unending days of hard labor, looks so gentle under the baby’s small head, thumb stroking her cheek where it rests in the crook of his elbow.
She sniffles, settling down from the cry that must have woken your husband up.
“You came out just perfect.”
You widen your eyes when you realize Kita’s speaking…to her. His voice is low and soothing and your heart just melts. He hunches his shoulders so he can lower his head to press his lips gently against his daughter’s forehead, closing his eyes and murmuring, “Perfect…just like your mother. Gonna grow up to be just as pretty too. I know.”
You bite your lip to suppress the overwhelming warmth that swells in your chest.
Kita shifts on his feet, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the window, and at this angle you can see the way he looks at her, like he can’t quite believe he’s the one who helped make her.
“You’re gonna grow up so loved, y’know that? Granny’s over the moon.” Kita smiles, and it’s so soft and pure and you’ve never been so in love. Whatever had disturbed your daughter from her sleep is gone now as she gurgles happily. You wrap the coverlet tighter around you, smiling at the sight before you. “She’s been waitin’ a long time to meet you.”
You look down, fondly remembering the sheer joy on his grandmother’s face when the two of you had announced you were expecting. She’d started knitting baby clothes on the exact same day, declaring proudly that her great-grandchild should have only the best.
“You got four uncles who’re gonna spoil you rotten.” Kita’s voice is a little firmer now, a tinge of amused disapproval to it. “Aran, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna. That’s them. Hope you like volleyball cause if you don’t…think you just might break their poor hearts.”
Oh, you know for a fact someone’s heart is going to be broken. None of the other boys have kids yet. It’s going to be a bloodbath—especially with the twins—for who your baby picks as her favorite. Personally, you have your money on Aran, but Asumu’s quite the charmer and certainly not to be underestimated.
Kita pauses by the glass again, gazing out over the rolling fields. There’s hesitation on his face now, a flash of uncertainty that you’ve rarely seen before. But then it’s gone, replaced by a steady determination, one you’ve seen countless times before. One that you fell head over heels for.
“I don’t know much about bein’ a dad but..” He looks back down at his daughter, who’s now fast asleep, snuggled against his chest comfortably. “I’ll do my best.”
You unfold your arms, and Kita must hear the rustling of your clothes because he turns to look at you, mild surprise dancing in his eyes. The tips of his ears turn a little pink.
“Ah…did I wake you?”
You ignore his question and just shake your head, beaming at him.
Carefully stepping closer, so as to not disturb your daughter from her peaceful slumber, you slide your arms around his waist from behind, propping your chin up on his shoulder and peeking over it to see her little figure held in his arms.
This…this is everything you wished for and more.
You peck him on the cheek and draw back so you can look into his eyes. The same eyes that your daughter has.
“You’re going to be the perfect father.”