haikyuu oneshots✨

𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 - 𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢

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characters/ship: oisuga | oikawa tooru x sugawara koushi
word count: 1111
tw: mentions of death of family members
type: angst

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Koushi stepped into the toy store, smiling as he took in the joyful music and aisles of toys and cuddly stuffed animals. It was their baby boy's fifth birthday and he's going to spoil the little kid rotten.

He walked over to the stuffed animal aisle and saw a stuffed bird, the ones that can dance when you press a button and it can walk on its own.

He's going to love this, he thought to himself. He placed the soft toy in the basket and moved on to the store.

The basket in his hand was getting a bit heavy, filled to the brim with toys, like LEGOs, stuffed animals, and bags and bags of sweets.

He made his way to the cashier, sending the teen a lovely smile as they scanned his items.

"What's the occasion?" They asked, punching some numbers into the computer.

"It's my kid's birthday. He's turning five!" Koushi grinned, giving the nice teen his card as they swiped it.

"There you go, you're all good. Your kid's so lucky to have you as a father. Say happy birthday to the kid for me!" The cashier handed Koushi his bag and waved him off.

Toys? Check. Now? Cake!

He stopped by the bakery and crouched in front of the glass showcase. There were rows and rows of cakes, decorated in different styles. Some in cliche white and red words, some fancy with cartoon characters decorated all over the cake. The sweet smell of vanilla and chocolate, filling him with childhood nostalgia where he would sit in front of the bakery and watch new cakes getting displayed.

Koushi could feel the drool forming in his mouth, his lips curving into a soft smile as he stood up.

"Hey, I'm here to pick up my cake. Left it under Sugawara." He gave a smile to the baker, and the baker returned with a smile before disappearing behind the counter and reappearing with a box.

"Here, if you're good with it, please sign here." The baker opened the box, and showed the cake to Koushi.

The cake was perfect. It was pale yellow, with "Happy 5th Birthday" written in beautiful handwriting on the cake. Koushi had a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest as he signed the paper, handing it back to the baker with a smile.

He took the cake in one hand and the toys in another, before leaving the bakery, not before sending his cheerful smile to the baker, and made his way back home.

He is going to be so happy.

Koushi walked up the stairs to his apartment and dug the keys from his back pocket. He jammed the key into the door and twisted it with difficulty. When did this lock become so broken? He leaned against the door to get it open, and the wooden plank swung open with a creak.

"Tooru! I'm back!" He waved a bit, the dust catching his face. "Look what I got him!"

Tooru came out from inside the house, his head disheveled as he said, "Who? Oh, Koushi..."

"I got him this stuffed animal! And look at this cake! Where is he? Does he have school today? Oh, we can go pick him up! I haven't picked him up from school in forever! When does he get off? Should we go now, wait let's put the cake in the fridge first, or it's going to melt-"

"Koushi, stop." Tooru had tears running down his face, "Please stop."

"T-tooru? What's wrong? Why are you crying? Is everything okay?" Koushi walked up to cup Tooru's face only to have the latter push him away.

"Koushi wake up! Look around us!" Koushi stepped back from his husband and looked around the apartment. It was old and battered down, the paint on the walls cracking and falling off. It was like no one managed or cared for the house in years.

"He's gone Koushi!" Tooru screamed, tears running down his face like a waterfall.

"W-what do you mean? He's just at school!"

"He's been gone for five years Koushi," Tooru yelled, throwing the bag of toys away, the plastic falling out from the bag and crashing onto the ground. "Every time you do this, I feel like he died again. Over and over, for five fucking years, Koushi!"

"No, this, no. T-tooru, you don't know what you're talking about-"

"He's gone, Koushi. He died five years ago, he died when he was born. I know it's hard, but please. Stop this, stop forgetting your son was never home. He never lived his life. He died when he was born, Koushi!"

The cake in Koushi's hand fell on the ground with a soft thud as his knees buckled under him, his body falling limp as he crashed onto the ground.

"O-our baby boy?" Koushi made out, tears pricking his eyes as he looked up to Tooru. "He's gone?"

"He's been gone for five years Koushi. Please, stop." Tooru knelt in front of him, a hand on his cheek as his brown eyes stared into Koushi. "You still live in this world, created this entire universe where he's still alive, please, I'm begging you, please stop. It hurts, it hurts so much Koushi."

Tooru fell into his arms, sobs wracking from his thin body frame, echoing in the empty apartment. "Please, please stop. It hurts." He sobbed, staining Koushi's sweater as his tears fell like escaping a dam.

"T-this isn't real, this can't be real, no, this can't be real. Tooru, stop playing with me." Koushi pushed Tooru off as he got up and ran into the house.

Room after room, he searched, looking for signs of his son, only to find nothing. Not even one picture or a toy, or even a backpack. Nothing that can prove there was a little boy in their lives.

"Where is he? Tooru, stop this, now! Please! I'm begging you, where is he?" His voice rang in the apartment, knees crashing on the wooden planks as he screamed on the top of his lungs. "Where is he?"

His body shook with sobs, screaming as he slumped onto the ground. "Where's my son?"

"I'm sorry Koushi." His husband knelt beside him, pulling him close as the older man broke down in realization that his son was never there. "I'm so, so, sorry, Koushi, we can get better okay?"

Grief is never easy, there are ups and downs. Grieving for parents, for children, for loved ones, or even for people who have no idea we exist. Your feelings are valid, and trust me when I say this: It will get better.

Take as long as you need.

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