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« 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 »

ꕥ

“Kenma's.. still not here?
We're about to warm up.”

Yaku noted as his gaze followed
his captain's worried stare
to the tribune.

“He didn't text me either.
I mean, it's not too rare that
he's a bit late sometimes.
Since he hasn't been sleeping well,
he might have slept in and will
be there when we actually start?”

It was more of a question than
an actual explanation and Yaku
was very sure that Kuroo was just
desperately trying to find a plausible
reason for his boyfriend's absence
to ease his worries.

“Mhm, since we have two games
today, he might try to rest as much
as possible at home so he won't
get too tired.”

But despite his biggest efforts
to believe the other's words,
Tetsuro couldn't shake off the worry.

He needed to see his boyfriend
with his own eyes to make
sure he was okay.

And not even receiving a message
from the blonde didn't help either.

“Maybe see it like this.
If Kenma would have the baby,
he'd definitely contact you, right?”

“Right.”

“Sweetie, are you really going?
You don't look well.”

Mrs Kozume frowned as she
watched her son come down
with slow, careful steps, tightly
holding onto the handrail while
his other hand was resting
on his baby bump.

“I'll be fine, the others are
probably already waiting for me.
I'm pretty late.”

Kenma huffed once he reached
the floor and caressed his belly
in hope to ease the ache that
was building up again.

“Then let me at least drive you, hm?”

“Mom, I'm fine. I'll take the
subway like any other day.”

But the skeptical look on his
mother's face stayed.

She knew her son long enough to
see how unwell he was feeling.

And she didn't like how
Kenma ignored it.

“Sweetie, you're heavily pregnant.
You should be in bed resting,
not stressing that you'll be too
late to some volleyball game.”

“It's not just some volleyball game.
It's- urgh..”

The blonde suddenly groaned
as he clutched his belly, the intense
pain almost knocking him over.

And when he looked up with wide,
shocked eyes, his mother only
returned the look of horror but
her gaze was fixed on the forming
puddle at her son's feet.

His water had broken.

“You! Stay here and don't move.
I'll get your dad.”