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There was a time when Tetsurō used to cry at the end of the night on every one of his birthdays.
His dad tried his hardest to fill the day with fun games, plenty of friends and happiness but once they were alone at the end of the party, that’s when the floodgates would open.
One year it happened while they were tidying up; one when Takao was tucking his precious son into bed; another as he was drying Tetsurō’s hair off after making him shower. Those big eyes that were full of mirth just a little earlier welling up with tears.
“Why didn't mom come?”
Takao’s heart would break a little every time. He wished to shelter Tetsurō from this pain more than anything in the world.
But no matter how much he tried to soothe and console his son, the nights always ended with Tetsurō falling asleep, exhausted and very much still sobbing.
For all the times he was proud of doing a good job raising a kid alone, these moments always made him feel helpless.
And Takao would then wonder, as he laid a gentle caress on his kid’s still damp cheek, if it was ever going to get easier, not having Hyōka in their life anymore.
So when they had to move all the way to Tokyo for his work, away from the small town life Tetsurō had always known and away from all his friends, Takao fully expected the situation to worsen, at least at first.
That night, he read a book in bed with anxiety pooling in his gut.
Maybe allowing Tetsurō to sleep over at the Kozume household was a mistake. They were the perfect neighbors and their kid had become Tetsurō’s closest friend and playmate.
Kenma was the one that invited him and Tetsurō had begged his dad to the point that he’d eventually caved.
Yet, he worried he’d taken advantage of their kindness by leaving them to deal with his inconsolable kid.
The next morning he passed by their house before work. Kenma’s mother let him in.
“Oh! Good morning, Kuroo-san! I was just making breakfast; would you like some?”
“Ah, good morning! I appreciate the offer, but I'm here to pick Tetsurō up for school.”
“Oh… but it’s so early still, the kids are still asleep…” she pondered for a second. “Listen, how about this? Bring over a change of clean clothes and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“I can’t ask that of you…” he started, “and I apologize if he inconvenienced you last night, with his crying.”
Kozume Kimi was quick to reply, her eyebrows furrowed.
“What? He didn’t cry, why would he? Tetsurō is such a sweet kid, it’s a pleasure having him around.”
His heart soared with hope upon hearing her words.
“I’m… so relieved to hear that.” he exhaled. When he noticed her questioning look, he switched to a more hushed tone as he briefly opened up about what happened with Tetsurō’s mother, and the subsequent birthday tears.
“I guess I’m just happy to see him getting over that pain, you know. I was scared that with the move, and losing all his old friends, he’d feel even more lonely this year.”
Kozume-san smiled up at him in response.
“But he has a new friend, now. My Kenma is special.”
As if summoned, Kenma appeared right then at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mom, don’t go around saying that stuff about me, it’s embarrassing.” he complained, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to them, at the door.
“It’s true!” She ruffled his hair. “Is Tetsurō still asleep?”
“I think he’s starting to wake up, too.” he replied, stifling a yawn. She grinned.
“Breakfast is almost ready. Go sit in the kitchen, I’ll be there in a second.” He disappeared behind the corner and as soon as they heard the padded footsteps halt, she turned to Takao again.
“I’m sorry about what happened with your ex. Me and Keitarō and Kenma are always here for you two if you need.” she said, simple and straight to the point. “Now go get those clean clothes!”
She gave an encouraging push and he thanked her profusely as he hurried back to his home.
While he was rummaging through his son’s drawers, he couldn’t help but smile to himself; he couldn’t believe their luck.
Maybe moving hadn’t been a bad call at all. Maybe it was precisely what his son needed to heal. And maybe this was where Tetsurō was always supposed to be.