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If you ask Tooru and Hajime, kids grow up way too fast. One day, they’re clinging to your leg, refusing to start school, and the next, they’re already old enough to have you walk them to high school.
Iwaizumi Hanae is now a radiant 13-year-old, just two centimetres away from reaching 1.65 meters. Her hair is a thick, dark mass of waves that only submits to control in the shower. Her eyes are large and the colour of damp earth. She has a wide, beautiful smile with big teeth, a slightly upturned nose, and golden skin dusted with pale, irregular patches of vitiligo.
She has a calm, cheerful personality, overflowing with confidence and self-assurance. She’s intelligent, sociable, attentive, and caring. Over time, she has mastered the art of using her appearance—and a pair of heartbreakingly sweet puppy eyes—to get what she wants (courtesy of her papa), as well as how to furrow her brow in an intimidating way and string together some truly original insult-name combinations when someone annoys her (courtesy of her dad).
She speaks, reads, and writes three languages perfectly (Japanese, English, and Spanish) and can hold her own in Portuguese and a little Italian, thanks to tío Sho-chan and zio Tobio. She loves sci-fi movies, eating, and hiking, but above all, she loves volleyball. Hanae’s an exceptional left-handed opposite spiker (much to Iwaizumi’s delight, Ushiwaka’s satisfaction, and Oikawa’s deep disappointment, it took him one week and four days to recover from the betrayal). She’s recently gotten into manga thanks to uncle Keiji and uncle Ko-chan, as well as true crime (which is entirely uncle Mattsun and uncle Kuroo’s fault). She enjoys crushing uncle Takeru in video games with Natsu-chan, and the weekend she spends with her grandparents is better than the last. She also has a serious sweet tooth, especially for profiteroles (courtesy of uncle Makki), freshly baked milk bread, and can’t go more than three days without agedashi tofu.
But Hanae’s also stubborn and a perfectionist at times. She hates worrying others with her problems and prefers to solve them on her own until she remembers that everyone needs a hand to hold and a guide to lean on. Is incredibly affectionate with her family; she loves giving hugs, kisses, and gifts. And without a doubt, her favourite activity is cuddling up with her parents on the couch for Friday movie nights, stuffing themselves with pizza and onigiri from her favourite shop, Onigiri Miya, where she always manages to get a couple of extra onigiri for free because she’s uncle Samu and uncle Tsum-Tsum’s favourite girl.
Tooru and Hajime are beyond proud of her and love her to bits. They’ve given their best to care for her, teach her, protect her, and spoil her, turning every fear of making mistakes as their guardians into another step on the ladder of good parenting. They’ve raised Hanae into a kind and pure-hearted person who has just begun her journey through the most unpredictable and dreaded stage of all: adolescence.
Yet, despite the increase in arguments and the physical and emotional changes brought on by hormones, Hanae remains relatively stable. She’s always the first to apologize and to seek comfort in her parents’ arms when mood swings, new insecurities, and pride become too much. And they hold her close with warmth and understanding, because they know their daughter is incredible, and because they were young once too. They know firsthand what it feels like to go through a phase where it seems like the whole world is against you.
And that’s why the Iwaizumis believe everything will be fine, that they’ll get through it without too much drama or trouble, just like they always have.
Until things stop going so fine.
Because there’s one thing neither Tooru nor Hajime ever had to deal with during their teenage years, purely because of anatomy.
“…ad… dad… daddy.”
Little by little, pulled to the surface by those soft murmurs, Iwaizumi begins to regain awareness of his surroundings, the gentle touch of the bedsheet draped over his waist, the warm Saturday sunlight filtering through the curtains onto his bare skin, the light shaking on his arm.
Iwaizumi grumbles and furrows his brows slightly. With a heavy sigh, he slowly begins to peel open his weighted eyelids, revealing sleep-clouded eyes. He exhales again, running both hands over his face and rubbing his eyes. The shaking stops, and he sweeps his gaze around the room, finally landing on the small figure of his daughter, sitting in the empty Tooru’s space. The uneasy expression on her face wipes away every last trace of sleep from Hajime, making him sit up straight in an instant, worry flooding his features.
“Hey, princess, what’s wrong? A nightmare? Did you hurt yourself? Feeling dizzy? Fever?” Hajime cups her face with one hand while placing the other gently on her forehead, brushing away the tousled strands of hair from that spectacular bedhead, one that could easily rival Tooru’s.
Hanae shakes her head, her glassy eyes and trembling lips forming a thin line, quivering like an autumn leaf.
“Come with me,” her voice is barely a whisper, and it twists something deep in Hajime’s gut.
He nods, forcing himself to stay calm as he throws off the covers and climbs out of bed. Hand in hand, they walk down the hallway toward Hanae’s room. Hajime scans the space the moment they step inside, searching for any clue as to what has her so shaken. Then, his eyes land on the bed.
There’s a red stain on the sheets.
Alarm shoots through him as he immediately turns to ask her what happened, but before he can get a word out, she pulls her hand from his and heads straight for the attached bathroom without a word. Hajime, still baffled, is about to follow when she reemerges, holding a pair of pajama pants in her hands, the same ones she wore last night, the ones she got for her birthday, covered in tiny silhouettes of E.T.
She walks towards him and holds them to him, still refusing to meet his eyes.
Carefully, he takes them and looks them over, his brain scrambling for an explanation until he spots another dark stain, right where the fabric meets between the legs.
He frowns, blinking as his brain pieces it all together. A stain on the sheets. Another on her pants. Right in the area of—
Oh.
Hajime’s eyes go wide as realization slams into him like a freight train.
“Oh, holy shi—shifts,” he blurts out, barely managing to bite his tongue in time.
Oh, holy shit.
Hanae just got her period for the first time and she’s scared and she bled on the sheets and her pajamas and Tooru won’t be back from Hokkaido where he has been a commentator for a first division match until lunchtime and his sister’s on an anniversary trip on the other side of the world and his mother-in-law is at her book club meeting where his own mother is also a member and—
—and now is not the time to panic.
Hajime places the pajama pants on the chair at her desk (not the time to scold her about the mountain of clothes piling up there) and crouches down in front of her. Hanae’s still staring at the floor.
He takes a deep breath, grounding himself, then gently places a hand on her shoulder, using his other to tilt her chin up. She doesn’t resist, but her gaze slides away, eyes brimming with tears, cheeks flushed, lower lip trembling.
It’s the same expression Tooru makes when he’s trying not to cry.
“Hey, it’s okay, Hanae, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about. You know this is normal, right? It’s all okay.”
Hajime speaks softly, offering a small, warm smile, and it’s all it takes. The dam breaks, and with a choked sob, Hanae throws herself into his arms, clinging to his neck.
He holds her instantly, pressing a steady hand against her lower back, rubbing gentle circles as he fights the lump rising in his throat. He won’t cry. He can’t cry. Not when she’s already trembling in his arms.
So, he just keeps whispering reassurances, pressing a few kisses to her hair, smoothing his hand along her back until her sobs fade into quiet little hiccups.
“I… I got scared.” Her voice is small, shaky, still thick with tears as lifts her head from his shoulder, sniffing and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “My stomach hurt, and I thought it was from the burger last n-night, but then I got up and saw the blood, and I—I thought it was something worse.”
“Does your stomach still hurt?” Hajime asks gently, brushing away the last traces of tears with his thumb.
“A little” she murmurs, placing a hand over the spot.
“All right, I’m here now, and we’re gonna take care of that stomach ache” he smiles, and Hanae gives a small nod. Hajime tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then playfully taps her nose, earning a tiny smile. “How about while I change the sheets and make you the best cinnamon tea you’ve ever had, you wait for me on the couch?” Suggests as he stands, relaxing a little when her eyes regain their usual sparkle and her smile widens.
But then, her expression falters. Her cheeks flush again, this time more out of shyness than embarrassment.
“Ah, b-but… actually, I…” she murmurs, playing with her fingers. Hajime raises a brow.
“What is it?”
Hanae hesitates, her brows drawing together in that little endearing frown she makes when she’s debating something internally.
“Necesito algo para no manchar la ropa interior” she blurts out in rapid Spanish, her blush deepening as she avoids his gaze.
Hajime blinks, tilting his head, completely lost.
“… Need what?”
Hanae groans, covering her face with both hands.
“I need something so I don’t stain my underwear!” repeats, this time way too loudly and too Japanese. Hajime feels his own face heat up slightly.
Oh.
Oh, shit. Right.
“Right, you need… yeah, got it, got it.” He clears his throat, cursing himself yet again for not thinking ahead. “Are you… uh, good for now?”
“I-I’m using some toilet paper for now, so I think I’ll be okay for a bit, but…”
“Got it. Change of plans. First, I’m heading to the convenience store for pads, and you wait for me on the couch, okay?”
Her daughter opens the fingers that still cover her face, showing her eyes between the gaps, and nods. Hajime smiles, and together, they leave the room and head downstairs. He makes sure she’s comfortably settled on the couch, adjusting pillows and double-checking that everything she might need is within reach. Only after she promises four times that she’s fine does he rush upstairs to his room. He washes his face and brushes his teeth in the bathroom, pulls on the first shirt he finds in the drawer, and grabs his phone and keys before heading back down.
“Still good, princess?”
“Yeah, Daddy,” she smiles, briefly tearing her eyes away from the screen, where Godzilla 2000: Millennium is playing, the one she watches the most whenever she just wants to relax and not feel the need to analyse every single line of dialogue.
Hajime really raised her so, so well.
“I’ll be right back, I promise. Call me if you need anything, okay? And you should probably call Papa, too. Just, you know… try to—”
“Be direct and not get flustered because Papa is a drama queen.”
“That’s my girl.” Hajime chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead before heading for the door.
He slips on his sneakers and, after one last goodbye, steps outside. The moment the door shuts behind him, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and finally relaxes his shoulders, which he hadn’t realized were so tense. Damn it, he hates himself for not being prepared for this. He knows it’s not really his fault, these things just happen, but if he’d been just a little more cautious, at least they’d have had some hygiene products in the bathroom already.
No time for that now. First: pads, then: self-loathing.
He finally steps away from the door and walks toward the convenience store. But just as he reaches the entrance, his Apple Watch buzzes against his wrist, signaling an incoming call. Iwaizumi tenses when he sees Tooru 🛸 on the small screen. He takes a deep breath, pulls out his phone, and answers before bringing it to his ear.
He doesn’t even get a chance to say a word.
“What do you mean MY daughter just hit one of the most critical milestones of her life while I’m still stuck at the fucking airport, dealing with Kuroo’s bad mood because he still hasn’t gotten over his stupid fight with Ken-chan and the fact that he got kicked to the couch the night before this fucking trip?!”
“I was not kicked to the couch! I decided to sleep there!” a voice protests in the background, right before Tooru tells him to shut up because I’m having a paternal crisis right now, Tetsu-chan, this is not the time!
“Okay, listen—”
“My daughter is suffering, and I’m not there!”
“Hey—”
“And we don’t even have any feminine hygiene products at home!”
“Just—”
“She must’ve been scared, damn it! She sounded calm when called me, but I know she only does that so I won’t worry!”
“Bab—”
“Tetsu-chan, didn’t you spend the whole summer playing that flight simulator? How about we fly a real plane right now?”
“Tooru!” This time, Hajime cuts him off, voice firm and steady, finally snapping his husband out of his frantic rambling. Iwaizumi sighs, shifting his weight to one leg as he rubs his forehead. “Hanae’s okay. I promise. She was a little nervous at first, but she’s fine now. It’s good that you’re worried, but don’t freak out, you idiot.”
“…Oh. Okay.” Tooru mutters quietly, and Hajime straightens at the slight tremor in his voice. The silence stretches between them, but Iwaizumi doesn’t push. He simply gives him space to sort his mind, just like he always has. “It’s just… weird, you know? I missed her first time riding a bike without training wheels, her first baby tooth, the first time she ran an errand on her own,” he trails off, and for a second, Hajime wishes Kuroo could hijack a plane and fly Tooru’s ass straight here so he could kick it. But he doesn’t interrupt. He just listens. “It… it took us so long to adopt her. And sometimes, it feels like if we miss any achievement, no matter how small, it could mean losing her. Or worse, making her think we don’t care enough.”
Iwaizumi hears the shaky breath Tooru exhales, and his chest tightens at the thought of the defeated, worried expression he must be wearing.
He understands that fear because they’ve shared it countless times, lying awake on those long nights before Hanae became a permanent part of their lives. The fear of making her feel insecure. Of forcing her into impossible expectations. Of leaving a hollow space inside her that they had sworn to fill until it overflowed. Tooru has always feared it the most, because he knows what it’s like, because he’s been that kid with deep insecurities, chasing after expectations that slipped right through his fingers.
“Forget that nonsense. We’re not losing her. You’re not losing her.” It’s the first thing that comes out of Iwaizumi’s mouth—steady words wrapped in absolute truth. “Our daughter is really smart, which she definitely didn’t get from you,” he allows himself the joke because it’s theirs, something familiar, a language they’ve always spoken. And he smiles when he hears Tooru’s weak squawk of protest.
“She knows we care about her. She knows we love her and that we always do our best to be there for her, babe. When she learned to ride her bike without training wheels, didn’t you spend the entire weekend running all over the neighbourhood with her, holding onto the bike so she could practice? When she lost her first tooth, didn’t she wait for you to come home so you two could throw it onto the roof together? And that same night, didn’t you sneak into her room to leave a lucky charm under her pillow, so she’d believe Ratón Pérez came? When you knew you wouldn’t make it in time for her first solo errand, didn’t you go to the convenience store the day before to talk to the clerk, told him exactly what time Hanae would come, what she’d buy, how much money she’d have, and even left our numbers just in case anything happened?” He lists them off, smiling with pride, knowing he could go on and on because Tooru is incredible. “Hanae is lucky to have you, Tooru. And so am I.”
Silence follows, and Iwaizumi knows his husband is taking in his words, letting them settle in that stubborn head of his.
His smile widens when he hears the telltale sniff and a muttered damn it, Iwa-chan, did you have poetry for breakfast this morning?
“Be patient, dumbhead. When you get back, let’s spoil Hanae together, okay?”
“Okay.” Tooru’s voice is soft, warm, full of light. “Before I get home, I’ll buy a ton of sweets, profiteroles, and a heated blanket.” His excitement is evident, his smile practically bleeding through the speaker.
“Good plan. We’ll also need to schedule a gynaecologist appointment.”
Iwaizumi finally steps into the convenience store, heading for the pharmacy section after grabbing a basket.
“Leave it to the great Iwaizumi Tooru-san!”
Hajime snorts amused, heart at ease, as he finally enters the convenience store.
Immediately, Kuroo’s voice can be heard in the background, something that sounds like stop grinning like an idiot and get ready, we have to board.
“See you at home, Tooru. Have a safe flight.” Iwaizumi says, not wanting to keep him any longer despite his husband’s protest. He grabs a small basket by the entrance and makes a beeline for the feminine hygiene aisle.
“Yeah, yeah. See you at home.” Tooru grumbles. Then, softer, “I love you. A lot.”
The sincerity and certainty in every word are so overwhelming that Hajime can’t stop the heat from rushing to his cheeks.
Sixteen years of friendship, nine years of dating, and seventeen years of marriage, and somehow, Iwaizumi Hajime (45) head athletic trainer for Japan’s men’s national volleyball team and the Sendai Frogs still can’t keep it together whenever his husband tells him he loves him.
“I love you too, Tooru,” he finally whispers.
With a last, quiet laugh from Tooru, the call ends. Iwaizumi pockets his phone and it takes him exactly ten seconds to recover before he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and focuses back on the shelf in front of him only for his eyes to widen in horror at the sheer, tremendous number of products on display.
It’s not the first time he’s bought pads. His mother used to send him to the nearest store to get a pack. Plus, Oikawa had dragged him along dozens of times to do the same for his older sister. However, somewhere along the way, something must have changed, because he definitely doesn’t remember there being such a thing as menstrual cups or absorbent underwear.
He blinks, feeling incredibly stupid as he hesitates between a pack of maximum-absorption pads with wings, another of regular ones without wings, and one of cotton-like regular pads with wings. In fact, his hesitation only grows when he realizes tampons are also an option, and that, even though he doesn’t know much about it, the menstrual cup seems pretty popular, considering there are only a couple of boxes left on the shelf.
He wants to call Hanae, but this is her first period. She probably isn’t sure what’s most comfortable for her yet, either.
“Shit” he mutters, frowning deeper, one hand hovering uncertainly in the air. What the hell is he supposed to pick? The only thing he’s sure about is that pantyliners aren’t for periods. Other than that, he’s completely lost.
Fucking lost.
After six minutes, eight confused looks from other customers, and three mental breakdowns, Iwaizumi is about to just clear every single, damn shelf into his basket when—
“Iwaizumi-san?”
Hajime freezes, startled, and turns his head to the side, lowering his gaze slightly to the woman who has stopped beside him. She looks just as surprised to see him, but she quickly smiles, warm and sincere as always, tilting her head in greeting.
“Ah, Tanaka-san, good morning.” He returns the gesture, smiling somewhat sheepishly, heat rising to his cheeks for the second time in less than ten minutes.
A lot had happened since, ten years ago, they decided to move back to the quiet of Miyagi to raise Hanae after Oikawa’s retirement from Argentinian volleyball and Iwaizumi’s new contract with the Sendai Frogs. One of those things was Sugawara becoming a teacher at Hanae’s elementary school, quickly earning the spot as her favorite teacher and one of their closest friends. Another was Hanae’s friendship with the Tanaka twins, which led to a close friendship between their parents as well—monthly dinners, spontaneous calls, and an ongoing exchange of homemade sweets.
“I didn’t expect to find you in this section” Kiyoko remarks, turning her gaze back to the shelf before reaching for a pack of blue tampons. “Did Hanae-chan get her first period?” she guesses, always too much observant.
“Yes” Iwaizumi murmurs, shifting his weight to the other leg.
“And you have no idea what kind of feminine hygiene product to pick for her?”
“... No” he sighs, defeated and embarrassed, looking away.
Kiyoko lets out a soft, understanding laugh.
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed, Iwaizumi-san. When Masako went through the same thing, it was Naoko who panicked the most” she recalls fondly, her smile growing tender. “Even though I was there and we had plenty of hygiene products at home, he borrowed Ryo-kun’s credit card and ran to the store to buy one of every type of pad and tampon just so Masako could figure out what was most comfortable for her.”
“Seriously?” Iwaizumi raises an amused eyebrow.
Kiyoko nods. “We managed to calm him down, but it was kind of adorable how he kept insisting Masako watch video tutorials to learn how to use them properly. And she was completely fine.”
Naoko is a quiet, calculated, and serene kid, the complete opposite of the energetic, chaotic Masako. The image of him anxiously fussing over his sister is endearing, and Hajime can’t help but huff a small laugh, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he glances back at the shelf in front of him. It feels like just yesterday that Hanae and the twins were fighting over who got to sit on the playground swings.
“They’re really growing up, huh?” he muses aloud.
Despite his concern over Hanae’s first period, for Hajime, this is just another sign that his little girl is growing up healthy and strong, a reminder that she won’t be their baby forever. That their paths are slowly diverging, and while he and Tooru will always be there for her, there will be hurdles Hanae will have to trip over on her own and learn to stand up from without their help.
“Too fast,” Kiyoko agrees. “Sometimes, I miss cradling them to sleep in my arms or chasing them around the house to make sure they dried off properly after bath time.” There’s nostalgia in her voice. “But it’s the cycle of life.”
“Are the twins obsessed with The Lion King soundtrack again?”
“Naoko finally learned to play it on the koto, and he hasn’t stopped for five days.”
Hajime chuckles, turning back to the shelves.
“So… what’s the difference between daytime and nighttime pads?”
Kiyoko’s smile widens as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before beginning to explain.
It takes them nearly fifteen minutes, and Iwaizumi learns more than just the difference between daytime and nighttime pads. Kiyoko also explains that it's important to know how much blood is being expelled since some pads absorb more than others. That tampons should be changed every five hours and that at night, pads are usually the best option. That menstrual cups come in different sizes and, for many women and menstruating people, they are the most comfortable choice. That absorbent underwear isn't always the most effective but can feel more comfortable when the flow is lighter. That feminine hygiene gels and wipes often cause more problems than they solve because they disrupt pH balance, and the best thing to do is wash with water.
“Do you think this will be enough?” Hajime asks, eyeing the four boxes in his basket—a pack of medium-absorbency daytime pads, another for nighttime, a box of low-absorbency tampons, and another of high-absorbency ones.
“Yes, don’t worry.” Kiyoko smiles, adding a pack of wipes to the basket. “These are pH-neutral. If she’s out and can’t find a bathroom with water, she can use them.”
“Alright, should I get painkillers too?”
“Yes, sometimes the pain can be intense. Oh, but if it lasts too long, she should see a gynaecologist to rule out any issues.”
Hajime nods. “Tooru and I will schedule an appointment as soon as possible.” He exhales, relieved. “Thank you so much, Tanaka-san. I really owe you one. This month’s dinner is on me.”
“Well, if you put it that way, I can’t say no.” She jokes lightly as they finally leave the aisle, slipping into an easy conversation about next week’s parent meeting.
They pay and part ways at the store entrance, Kiyoko reminding him that he can always ask her anything if he has doubts. Iwaizumi, now calmer and more relaxed, heads home, his shopping bag filled with hygiene products and Hanae’s favourite pudding.
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"I'm home!" he calls out, nudging the door shut with his heel while dropping his keys into the dish on the entryway table, smiling when he hears Hanae’s soft welcome home.
He kicks off his shoes and steps into the living room, where his daughter is still curled up on the same couch he left her on, looking a little better than before. Her hair is tied up in a messy high ponytail, and now one of Tooru’s first matches in San Juan is playing on the big TV screen. She pauses the video and smiles, arms outstretched as Hajime crosses the room, setting the bag on the table before bending down to melt into a hug.
“Feeling any better?” he asks gently, rubbing her back as he presses a kiss to her hair.
“Mmh” she hums. “My stomach still hurts a little, but I don’t even know if it’s from the cramps or just hunger.”
Hajime chuckles, pulling back just enough to cup her cheek, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair.
“Well, we’ll take care of breakfast in a second. But first—” he reaches for the bag, opening it to show her what he got, “—I wasn’t sure exactly what you’d need, but I was lucky to run into Tanaka-san.”
“You saw Kiyoko-san?” Her eyes light up, and Iwaizumi nods, grinning.
“She helped me a lot, and thanks to her advice, I got two types of pads and two types of tampons.” He takes the boxes out, setting them on the table. “You don’t have to use these right away, only when you feel comfortable. Same with menstrual cups and absorbent underwear.” He watches as his daughter nods, almost fascinated. “These wipes are for when you’re out and want to clean well before changing. And painkillers, in case the cramps get too bad.” He takes both out of the bag. “Oh, and your pudding.”
“Matcha flavor!” she exclaims excitedly when spots the packaging.
“Yeah, that awful matcha stuff you and uncle Mattsun like so much.”
Hanae’s smile stretches from ear to ear. She glances between her father and the pile of hygiene products on the table before turning back to him.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Her voice is soft and sweet, and Hajime, heart warm, softens his smile as he sets the bag down and pulls her into another hug.
“Anything for my girl,” he murmurs, feeling her tiny hands grip his shirt just a little tighter.
“You’re the best dad in the world.” Iwaizumi blinks, feeling his eyes sting slightly, but then he startles when Hanae suddenly straightens up, looking straight at his father with serious eyes. “And Papa too! You’re both the best dads in the world!” she corrects herself firmly.
Hajime laughs, reaching out to pinch her cheek lightly, just where her skin tone fades to an off-white.
“I know, princess.” He presses a kiss to her forehead before standing up. “Why don’t you go change while I make breakfast?” he suggests, resting his hands on his hips. “You need a proper meal, and I need a dangerously high dose of caffeine.”
Hanae giggles and nods, hopping off the couch and gathering the four boxes in her arms.
“I won’t take long!”
“Call me if you need help!” he calls after her as she heads upstairs, only to hear a loud “¡vale!” in response.
Hours later, with breakfast digested, the house tidied up (Hanae’s chair included), and the dishes washed, Hajime and Hanae are curled up on the couch again, this time watching the recording of Oikawa’s last game before retiring. There’s a particularly funny moment in the fourth set that they rewind four times—Tooru jumps up for a block alongside two of his tallest teammates, but as he lands, he trips over his own feet and stumbles clumsily, hopping in a futile attempt to regain his balance before ultimately crashing to the floor while his teammates celebrate the point, alien to his fall.
On the coffee table sits an empty cup of cinnamon tea that Iwaizumi made for his daughter thirty minutes ago, because apparently, her stomachache wasn’t just from hunger and got a little worse after eating. But now, Hanae is better, nearly dozing off under her father’s arm, her head resting against his chest and her legs stretched out on the long couch.
"Are you sure you don’t want to lie down in bed for a bit until lunchtime?" he asks gently, threading his fingers through her thick hair, stroking it just the way she likes.
"Wanna wait for Papa," she mumbles, stifling a yawn.
Hajime smiles, murmuring an alright just as the familiar jingle of keys reaches their ears. The front door opens, and Hanae’s sleepiness vanishes. She straightens up, peeling her now wide-awake eyes away from the TV to look toward the small hallway by the entrance. Iwaizumi pauses the recording just as a bright “I’m home!" echoes through the walls (and his heart), accompanied by the clatter of a suitcase.
Iwaizumi Tooru steps in, tall, elegant, and radiant, the only real signs of his 45 years appearing in the soft creases at the corners of his large, round eyes (and the ten gray hairs that nearly got Hanamaki killed when he dared to mention them). His short bangs are slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed. A brilliant smile spreads across his face, and his eyes shine like stars when he sees his two favourite people on the couch.
“Papa!” Hanae stands up on the couch, and Iwaizumi holds back the urge to scold her, opting instead to gently remind her to be careful as he moves a pillow out of her way.
“Hanae-chan!” Tooru rushes forward, arms outstretched, and scoops her up into a tight hug. Hanae buries herself in his shoulder, now standing on tiptoes atop the couch’s armrest. “Mi linda niña!”
Hajime watches the scene fondly before standing to take the empty cup back to the kitchen. When he returns, Tooru has Hanae’s face in his hands, smothering it with kisses as she bursts into laughter, trying weakly to escape.
"You’re gonna smother her," Hajime teases, stepping closer.
“Aww, don’t be jealous, Hajime-chan!” Tooru exclaims playfully, rubbing his cheek against Hanae’s before wrapping his arms around her again to lift her up. “I have kisses for you too!” he adds, sticking out his tongue, playful, beneath a gaze brimming with love.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips.
“Papa! How was Hokkaido? Did you bring souvenirs?” Hanae asks, swinging her legs on either side of Tooru’s waist.
“A ton of souvenirs!” he replies, amused. “But first, how are you, princess?” Tooru’s smile softens as he gently bumps his nose against hers. When did she get so big that I need both arms to hold her now? “I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning.”
Hanae shakes her head, dismissing it with a wide smile that shows her big, even front teeth.
“It’s okay, Papa, you had to travel for work. I’m feeling much better now. It doesn’t hurt as much, and Daddy got me everything I needed.” She shares a glance with Hajime, who winks at her.
“Oh, so Daddy took advantage of my absence to steal my title as favourite papa, huh?”
“No!” Hanae giggles, scrunching her nose.
“Steal?” Iwaizumi joins in, feigning confusion. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been the favourite from the start.”
“Papás who mistake matcha pudding for kiwi pudding can’t claim that title, Iwa-chan!”
“Papás who try to make their daughter right-handed just so she won’t resemble their nemesis can’t either, Iwa-chan.”
“Hey! I was trying to make her ambidextrous! Totally different thing!”
“Uncle Ushi was almost sad when he found out,” Hanae recalls, making her daddy chuckle while Tooru groans indignantly.
“He wasn’t sad, Hanae-chan! That’s just his normal expression, he doesn’t know how to change it.”
And as Hajime protests for him to stop badmouthing Ushijima in front of their daughter, and Tooru retorts that he has every right because not only did I have to put up with Ushiwaka in middle AND high school, but also I put up with him sharing space and time with YOU in Irvine and the damn national team while I was suffering on the other side of the ocean, Hanae rests her head against her father’s shoulder, her smile growing even fonder.
Yes, they’re definitely the best parents in the world.
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“Is she asleep?” Hajime asks from bed, his bare back against the headboard, an iPad in hand.
Tooru nods, pushing the door slightly ajar before dragging his feet toward the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped beneath the oversized, worn-out shirt that once belonged to Hajime. When his husband sees him approaching, but not toward his side of the bed, he smiles, setting the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand, opening his arms.
The former setter climbs onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around his neck, burying his face there as Hajime’s sturdy arms encircle his waist, fitting him snugly against his body like they always have. And stay like that, Hajime’s warm fingers lazily stroking Tooru’s back beneath his shirt, tracing the well-defined muscles he knows by heart. He listens to his steady breathing against his skin, feels his torso rise and fall with each inhale and exhale, their heartbeats in perfect sync.
“You okay?” Hajime asks, voice low, pressing a kiss beneath his ear.
“Yeah,” Tooru replies, and Hajime’s ears, trained since diapers to detect Oikawa’s lies, pick up nothing. “Just… nostalgic?”
Hajime nuzzles the length of his neck. “Why?”
“I miss when Hanae was so tiny she needed our help to reach the bathroom sink, when she started feeling more comfortable at school and told us about her day mixing three different languages, when it was her turn to pick a movie, and she always chose Lilo & Stitch to try and convince us to adopt an alien… I even miss when she used to chase us around yelling that she was Godzilla.”
His husband smiles fondly, each memory overlapping in his mind, always with Hanae at the center—radiant, precious, and sweet.
“I do too. A lot,” he confesses, holding him a little tighter. “But it’s the circle of life.”
Tooru huffs, lifting his face to reveal eyes glistening with warmth and amusement.
“Where did that come from? Have you been listening to the twins’ playlist again?”
Hajime returns the smile. “I ran into Kiyoko-san at the store.”
“Really?” The other man laughs again, blinking in mild surprise as Hajime nods. “And she helped you?”
“Yeah, it’s all thanks to her.”
“Ha! Then I claim the title of favourite dad!” He jokes, and Iwaizumi laughs from the heart, shaking his head subtly.
“Asshole,” he teases fondly, ignoring the squawk of indignation before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You know Hanae is growing up healthy and strong, right?” he murmurs against them, and Tooru nods, his long, bony fingers now buried in Hajime’s messy hair. “She’s stopped doing some things, but she’ll start doing new ones, and we’ll be there too, to enjoy them and live them with her.”
Tooru’s brightest smile spreads across his face, his eyes narrowing into crescent moons.
“Who would’ve thought the day would come when my Hajime got so good with words,” he teases, crossing his arms behind his husband’s neck before closing the small gap between them again, swallowing the insult that had been dancing on Hajime’s tongue.
Iwaizumi exhales against the kiss, closing his eyes as his hands travel along Tooru’s side, one slipping under his shirt, the other anchoring firmly to his hip. Tooru catches his lower lip between his teeth, moving his hips in a slow, deliberate sway that pulls a deep groan from Hajime.
The air thickens. Their kisses grow deeper. Their breaths turn heavy. Words melt into gasps, moans, and broken names. Clothes start to feel like an inconvenience. Their minds haze over, and Hajime is just about to rip Tooru’s fucking shirt off and push him onto the mattress when—
Two soft knocks at the door. A sweet little voice asking if she can come in.
Oh, blessed be the moment Iwaizumi insisted on teaching Hanae to knock before entering.
“Come in, princess!” Iwaizumi, flushed, clears his throat when his voice comes out rough, and Tooru (glowing, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, lips damp) chuckles in amusement, sitting up beside his husband, one of his long legs still draped over his.
The door swings open fully, and Hanae, looking much better than she had that morning, peeks in, smiling a little shyly before running toward the big bed, hopping onto it, and throwing herself into Tooru’s open arms.
“Well, well, look who’s here. I’m pretty sure I left you sound asleep in bed,” he sing-songs, hugging her tightly while, beside him, Hajime reaches out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admits, a little uneasy. “Can I... can I sleep with you? Just for tonight!” she promises quickly, her eyes suddenly wide, impossibly adorable, utterly innocent.
Hajime usually doesn’t give in to that kind of blackmail since, after forty-five years with Tooru, he’s built up immunity. However, when his daughter’s gaze is joined by Tooru’s, watching him with the exact same intensity, he’s completely screwed because it turns out his immunity can only withstand one blackmail.
Iwaizumi sighs in defeat, sinking against the headboard.
“Fine,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips, “just for tonight.”
“Yay!” The two loves of his life cheer in unison, grinning radiantly before high-fiving each other.
They settle in for the night, the three of them together. Hajime makes sure they’re all snug under the duvet while Tooru pulls Hanae into a big embrace, rubbing his cheek against hers again, making her giggle.
And Hajime, watching how his little girl is no longer the introverted three-year-old who once felt too vulnerable for the world, seeing the way Tooru’s eyes shine with delight as Hanae excitedly recounts yesterday’s training with tio Sho-chan and Natsu-chan, thinks about how much he’ll miss this too. How it’s not just the past he misses, but the present as well.
But at the same time, he thinks about how he’ll treasure all of it, how he’ll tuck it away in a little box and keep it safe, protected even from dementia. How grateful he is for risking everything with and for Tooru, for making it here together. For having a family, their family. For their journey from guardians to parents, when Hanae chose to leave behind Haji-san and Tooru-san and call them Daddy and Papa instead.
His life is ethereal. He wants nothing more.
Although… maybe it’s time to adopt a dog. Or a cat. Hell, both. A Maine Coon and an Akita Inu. Or a Siamese and a Golden Retriever.
And a reptile too? As long as he promises Tooru he’ll take good care of it?