"How do I fix this? What do I need to do?"

"Easy. You do what every well-meaning parent has done in the history of the world," you told him, folding your arms across your business casual. "You lie."

Osamu looked like he would rather eat a spoiled fish. "Really?"

"Really! As much as I want Misa to be a sensible adult, I don't mind stretching the truth every now and again before she gets there."

"Yeah? Like for what?"

"Oh, tons of things — Santa Claus. The tooth fairy. How positively wonderful her father is."

A cocktail of shock, amusement, and retroactive anger flashed across Osamu's eyes.

"Too soon?" you laughed, scratching the back of your head with your manicure. "What I mean to say is...there's no harm in preserving the magic for Kina a little while longer. The world is already shitty as-is. But she doesn't need to know that now."

Osamu's shoulders sank as he considered your words. The fierce protectiveness behind them.

"...fine. I see yer point," he conceded. "How do ya suggest we make it up to her, then?"

"Leave that to me," you reassured him, squeezing his bicep like you did your favorite stress ball. "All I need is some cardstock, a glitter pen, and my good ribbon. None of that cheap shit. Oh! And a little jar to memorialize the tooth."

"Memorialize the tooth? We're not just gonna toss it?"

"Toss it?" You looked as if you'd been slapped. "You mean to tell me that your baby's first tooth doesn't mean anything to you?"

"...yes? No? What on earth am I gonna do with — ya know what? Nevermind." Osamu frowned, recognizing this was an argument he could not win.

Instead, he merely reached out, squeezed your shoulders twice, and said, "I appreciate ya tryin' so hard. I'll take care of the tiny jar."

"Thank you." You smiled at him sweetly, unlocking your car with two sharp beeps. "I'll text you the details later!"

"What on earth are you doing?" Kuroo asked on his way back from the copy room. He blinked back at your assortment of scrapbook paper and glitter pens — the way your posture curved over your desk like a prawn's.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" you retorted, trimming the edges of the fairy illustration you'd licensed off Adobe Stock Images. "I'm crafting."

"...as a stress response?"

You frowned. "I'm decorating a money envelope from the tooth fairy, but I don't want Misa to know it's me."

"Ah." Kuroo pulled over his desk chair and eased into it with a chuckle. "Kiddo finally losing her baby teeth?”

"...no." You busied yourself trying to find a recycling bin. "It's uh...it's Kina, actually."

At that, your co-worker raised his eyebrows.

"Osamu's kid?"

"Yeah.” You shrugged. Briefly explained to him the situation. "She was heartbroken when he told her. I'm just trying to help him out."

"You've been 'helping him out' a lot lately."

Kuroo hooked an ankle over one knee and frowned, although you couldn't take his accusation seriously with those ridiculous socks of his. (Today's pair had a flock of ducks on them. Or were they geese?)

"The bake sale. His kid's school project. A new sign for his restaurant..." When you rolled your eyes, he added, "Don't think I haven't noticed you working on it between meetings!”

"So? I get all my other work done on time!”

"Not the point." Kuroo grinned. "You like him."

"I like a lot of things. Strong coffee, cheap manicures..."

"You like cheap manicures? Romantically? Intimately?"

"Intimately?" you hissed, whipping your head around the office floor. Mercifully, most people were out to lunch. "Are you asking me to report you to HR?"

Kuroo hummed behind his warm stack of copies and leaned back in his chair. You half-wished the cylinder would snap into two.

"When did you realize?"

His question caught you off-guard. Your eyes retreated to your desk. This silly art project that had consumed your entire lunch break.

"...it was the day of Misa's violin recital. I think."

The words, far too vulnerable for your liking, lingered in the air like a bad smell. Your face turned a deep shade of red.

"Why?"

You blew a raspberry. What could you possibly say to that?

“He makes my daughter laugh,” you eventually decided on. "He's there, but he doesn't have to be. He takes every single shitty thing I've ever thought about fatherhood and just...refutes it."

You folded your arms across your chest and glowered. "There. Happy now?"

"...wow.” Kuroo pushed his bottom lip out. “I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said about a man."

You picked up your stack of scrapbook paper and smacked him with it.

"Will you let me craft in peace now?” you begged. “Save the invasive questions for happy hour. Please."

"Whatever you say, Miss Tooth Fairy," Kuroo cackled, easing himself out of his chair and flipping through his stack of papers. "Also, I believe this is yours. I saw it on the printer when I went to make copies."

You took the paper into your hands. Relaxed once you realized what it was.

"Thank you."

"No problem." He waggled his eyebrows before returning to his desk. "I'm holding you to that happy hour, by the way!"

The photo Osamu had taken of Misa at the sculpture garden was a new favorite of yours. It was by no means perfect — his thumb was in the bottom lefthand corner of the shot, and Misa had a bad habit of looking like a stiff Victorian child when photographed.

Regardless, a soft smile worked its way onto your face as you trimmed the photo to size, grabbed a thumbtack, and pinned it above your desk.

You found yourself staring at it the rest of the day.

The day after Kina lost her tooth, you stood outside Osamu's door. Misa on one hip. Pillow and blanket on the other. You'd packed your entire apartment into the overnight bag slung across your shoulders, and you briefly wondered if insurance would cover the chiropractor you now needed after hauling everything up three flights of stairs.

"Oh," you breathed at who answered the door. "I didn't realize you'd be here, too."

Atsumu's lips pulled into an offended frown.

"I know I'm not yer preferred twin, but ya don't need to sound so disappointed." He opened the door wider and hollered, "They're here!"

The smell of spices and freshly cooked rice filled your nose as you entered the apartment and kicked off your shoes. "You here to crash the girls' Tinker Bell marathon?"

"More like raid my fridge!" Osamu huffed from the kitchen. You snorted as Misa wiggled out of your grip and made a beeline for Kina's room. "Work treat ya well this week?"

Your conversation with Kuroo immediately flooded your memory. The tips of your ears turned pink as you found Osamu preparing dinner by the stove.

"Sure," you drawled as you approached. Took a peek at the potatoes, carrots, and chicken he stirred into the rich curry sauce. "Didn't get nearly as much done as I wanted to, though."

"Ya always say that," Osamu drawled. He met your gaze over his shoulder and smiled. "It's Friday. You've earned yer rest."

"I think I've earned three bowls of this delicious curry."

"That, too," he chuckled. His voice dipped beneath the roar of the exhaust hood. "Sorry about Tsumu, by the way. He heard I was makin' dinner and decided to crash."

"No, no! I don't mind. The more the merrier."

And, for a split-second, you meant it. The plan you'd pitched to Osamu was simple: have Misa over for a sleepover. Watch a couple nostalgic movies to set the tone. Swap out Kina's tooth for the money envelope you'd spent at least two hours of company time on, and voilà. Childhood magic restored.

You hadn't considered the fact that you'd basically invited yourself over. In fact, when Osamu texted you that the guest room was all set up and ready to go, you’d nearly evaporated from embarrassment.

Maybe it was better to have another adult in the room.

Across the apartment, the adult-in-question now frowned at the tooth Kina insisted on showing him. Osamu had given her a sample jam jar for her to put it in, and not a second passed without her brandishing it like a championship ring.

"Wow," Atsumu drawled, dark brows pulled into a concerned line. "That's...disgusting."

"Disgusting?" Kina squawked. She turned to your daughter for a second opinion. “Misa, do you think my tooth is disgusting?”

"I..." Your daughter's eyes locked onto yours in a blind panic.

You leaned over Osamu's kitchen counter and smiled. You can be honest.

"...maybe?"

"Maybe?!"

"It is!" Atsumu cried, gesturing to the tooth like it was a severed limb. "It's all bloody and shit!"

"Language!" Osamu ground out.

"You're just jealous the tooth fairy isn't coming to give you money," Kina told Atsumu, cradling the jar to her chest.

"And yer just lucky ya didn't swallow that damn tooth of yours in yer sleep,” her uncle retorted. He leaned in, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips. "Ya know what happens to kids who swallow their teeth in the night?"

Kina stumbled backwards a step, equal parts scared and defiant.

"What?"

"They turn into skeletaurs!" Atsumu cried. Kina's petrified shrieks rattled the apartment as he chased her around the living room, leaving a trail of discarded pillows and couch cushions in their wake.

"Alright, alright! Quit traumatizin' her," Osamu drawled after a while. He balanced a warm plate of food in one hand and yanked Atsumu back by the hood with the other. The athlete wheezed like a harmonica.

"If y'all want dinner and money from the tooth fairy," he warned — tone firm. Eyes sharp. "Then I suggest ya both clean up yer mess and sit the hell down."

They didn't need to be told twice.

Dinner proceeded just as chaotically — Kina demanding everyone apologize to her tooth. Atsumu asking your daughter one judgmental question after another ("Is this really who ya chose to be yer best friend?"). Misa stuffed her cheeks with a spoonful of curry and shrugged, as if she couldn't decide whether to be entertained or overstimulated.

"Is your family always this crazy?" she later asked Osamu during Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure.

Atsumu and Kina were curled up on the air mattress at the foot of the couch, debating whether he'd be a tinker fairy or a fast-flying one. Meanwhile, Misa was tucked between you and Osamu on the sectional, sharing the blanket he'd warmed up in the dryer.

"Unfortunately," Osamu grumbled. He tossed a handful of movie-butter popcorn into his mouth and asked, "Why? Are they bein' too loud?"

"No!" Misa pursed her lips to one side. "I mean, yes, but...it's just mommy and me at home, so I don't mind."

Your expression crumpled beneath the faint glow of the television. Osamu reached over the back of the couch and squeezed your shoulder with his free hand.

You found yourself reaching for it a moment later. Appreciating its warmth. Quietly asking him not to move.

He didn't.

"Okay team," you stage-whispered in the kitchen later that night. You pinched open the money envelope and held it out to the twins. "Pay up."

Osamu counted eight thousand yen from his worn leather wallet and slid it into the envelope. Atsumu, after some protest ("What? She ain't my kid.”), forked over eight thousand as well. You licked the envelope closed and secured it with a ribbon, the fairyland scenery you'd decoupaged on the front sticking slightly to your fingertips as you worked.

"Will we have to do this whole song-and-dance for the rest of Kina's teeth?" Atsumu grumbled.

"Oh, hush," you said. "Don't you remember how fun it was to lose a tooth as a kid?"

"Not really. All I remember was Samu chasin' me around with floss and the world's largest Nerf gun."

"Yeah..." Osamu rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "That was pretty fun."

The sound of the girls' quiet snores filled the bedroom as you and the twins tiptoed inside — plastic toys scattered across the carpet. An orange nightlight plugged into its socket. Kina had already contorted herself into a position that couldn't have been comfortable, and Misa looked like she belonged in an ancient sarcophagus.

"Why does yer daughter sleep like a corpse?" Osamu murmured, frowning at her supine position.

"At least her foot isn't in anyone's face," you hissed, gesturing to the tiny heel pressed into Misa's cheek. "Can someone please move her?"

Atsumu slid both hands beneath his niece's sleeping frame and tried his best to roll her over. She wouldn't budge.

"I can't."

"You can."

"She's heavy."

"She's five!"

"Oh, for god's sake," Osamu grumbled, gathering his daughter into his arms and lifting her like a sack of flour. "We're fine. The girl sleeps like a goddamn log."

After you and Atsumu replaced Kina's tooth with the money envelope, Osamu practically swaddled her back into the blankets so she wouldn't move. The moment you all crept back outside and closed the door with a soft click, a collective sigh unfurled into the air.

"I never wanna do that again," Atsumu complained, handing Osamu the jar with a shudder. "The hell ya gonna do with a bloody tooth?"

"Dunno," his brother hummed, holding it up to the light. You swore a wistful shadow crossed his eyes in that moment. "Put it in a drawer somewhere?"

Atsumu shook his head before walking away. "Y'all are weird."

You exchanged soft, tired smiles with Osamu outside his daughter's bedroom door.

"Wanna watch a movie?" he suggested, tilting his head in the direction of the living room. "I'm logged in on all of Tsumu's accounts."

You blinked back at the question. "Are you sure? It's getting late."

"It's ten-thirty," Osamu huffed, gently nudging you in the ribs. "When's the last time you've watched a movie that wasn't rated PG?"

The pensive look on your face told him you couldn't remember. Osamu chuckled before padding back towards the couch in his socks.

"Come on," he teased, Atsumu already shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "The sleepover was yer idea, wasn't it?"

You'd become so fixated on preserving Kina's sense of childhood magic. But as you took in this apartment — the discarded toys on the floor, the leftover curry on the stove, the two grown men already bickering over which genre to watch — you realized her life was already full of it.

The thought made your chest flood with that same swell of emotion Kuroo had accused you of harboring just days before. But before you could fully succumb to it, you instead double-checked Kina's door, tucked your hair behind your ears, and went to go join the twins on the couch.

It would be another twenty minutes before you finally decided on a movie to watch.