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Kenma’s thought about it a million times, but he seriously thinks about it when he catches Tetsurou making silly faces at a baby near the dairy aisle. She stares back at him with wide eyes, and then she cracks a smile so endearing Kenma can practically see Tetsurou’s heart bleeds.
What would it be like to bring into the world a child that is half himself and half the person he loves most?
Kenma looks at Tetsurou’s warm, handsome face and doesn’t have to think hard to remember a tiny version of him.
Wonderful, is what he finally decides on.
“Are you sure?” There’s a slight shakiness to Tetsurou’s voice. The rhythmic chopping of knife against a bamboo board stops, so it’s just the electronic sound of Kenma’s game that fills the air.
“When have I ever done anything I don’t want to do?” Kenma fights the urge to roll his eyes. He pretends that he hasn’t bombed this level too many times, thinking about what it means to try.
Tetsurou wipes his hands on his apron and throws it over his head. He grins at Kenma in that familiar way.
Kenma huffs. “I’m not in heat.”
“I don’t care.”
The gel is cold when it touches his belly. Kenma doesn’t like the sliminess of it.
There’s a blurry black-and-white shape on the screen, coming in and out of focus with every miniscule movement against his skin. Then, the picture pauses to a pulsing, vaguely oval shape.
“There,” the technician smiles. She turns up a knob that allows Kenma to hear the beating heart inside of him.
Tetsurou squeezes his hand.
“Don’t cry,” Kenma warns.
“I’m not,” he says, voice rough.
“Do you want to know the gender?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
They stare at each other, silently communicating.
The technician laughs.
Kenma has lost the ability to see his feet. His eyes work fine, but when he glances down, there’s a round belly obstructing the view. He knows his feet are swollen anyways. And they touch the floor, so it’s fine, right?
Tetsurou stops and notices that Kenma’s fallen behind. He wraps an arm around his shoulders, planting a kiss on his forehead.
“What’s wrong?” He murmurs.
All Kenma can say is, “I can’t see my feet.” Now his eyes are getting blurry too.
Kuroo hums, and his sweet scent surrounds Kenma. “I’ll get you apple pie.”
Kenma finds himself purring.
“—Nitrogen is next to Carbon. Its atomic number is 7. Fun fact about—”
“Tetsu, do we really have to go through the periodic table every night?”
He smiles up at Kenma, his face inches from his stomach. “Yes. I win 3000 yen from Yaku if her first word is an element.”
“But I win my sanity if I don’t know the reactivity of alkali metals.”
She chooses then to kick, a soft, fluttering sensation that makes Kenma gasp in surprise.
“Was that—?” Tetsurou lays his hand where the small movement catches his eyes, waiting.
She does it again and again.
If Kenma counts the hours he’s been in labor, he’d never want to do it again. But staring down at the soft bundle on his chest, his cheeks wet with tears, he can’t help but feel like he wants this moment to last forever.
“Goddamnit,” Kenma croaks out, still catching his breath. “She has your hair.” He thinks, she’s amazing.
Tetsurou’s hand, too large for her head, cradles it gently. He kisses Kenma and whispers against his lips, “You’re amazing.”
What would it feel like to be made from love? Kenma isn’t sure. Maybe his daughter someday will tell them.
Emi sleeps between the two of them in their room. The futon mattress on the floor is their little family’s sanctuary. Their cats sleep just at the edge of it, as though keeping watch.
They say to sleep when you can, and Kenma’s so tired he should most definitely be sleeping, but he’s watching the dust settle in the moonlight and sees the soft rises of his daughter and his husband’s chest.
He’s thought that once she’s here, he’ll stop crying over every little thing.
But, well, this isn’t little, isn’t it? They’re his entire world.
Perfect, warm, and wonderful.
“Tetsu! Getoverherenow!” Kenma hisses. He stares back at Emi with a grin and a Don’t you move before your Daddy gets here.
Tetsurou’s approaching voice lets out an awed, “She’s standing. Did you help her stand?”
Kenma finally allows himself to laugh. It bubbles in his chest and bursts out his mouth.
“She pulled herself up using the kotatsu.”
Seeing her parents so happy, Emi smiles and drops to her bottom, crawling over excitedly into Tetsurou’s arms, her giggles like gold, their matching hair unmistakable.
Kenma laughs again when Tetsurou frowns and says, “She’s stinky.”
“She’s yours.”
In every way.
If Kenma gets a yen every time Tetsurou cries over Emi, he wouldn’t need to keep streaming.
“You’d think you’re the one going to kindergarten.” Kenma teases while squeezing Tetsurou’s hand in his reassuringly.
Emi’s little pigtails bounce behind her as she makes her way inside the classroom. She waves at them happily before running to take off her shoes.
“Oh God, next thing I know, she’s going to go to college—” Tetsurou rambles.
Now, he’s really spiraling. Kenma gently ushers him away from the door.
Still, it’s Kenma who looks back more than once to check if she’s okay.
Something about being a parent makes all of Kenma’s senses more heightened. He can hear Emi’s footsteps outside of his door even in deep sleep. He wakes to see her gold eyes blinking through sleepy lids, her small lips trembling.
Without a word, he lifts the blanket and lets her crawl in the middle between them.
His husband stirs, but he just turns and drapes an arm over the two of them, a warm, silent comfort.
Emi’s hand rests on the bump on his stomach. He hears her soft whispered Goodnight before the four of them drift off to sleep.