#firsttime-writing

the promise our mothers made.

synopsis: you and kei tsukishima are born just months apart, brought together by your mother’s long-standing friendship. at eight years old, your mother arranges a playdate to help you open up. though unsure, you agree—unaware it will become an important moment in your childhood.

(w.c 574)

you and kei tsukishima had been friends since childhood—long before either of you could even remember.

your mothers had been inseparable since high school. even as life grew busier with adulthood, responsibilities, and eventually motherhood, their bond never faded. if anything, it only grew stronger. back then, they used to joke about how their children would be just as close as they were—no matter what.

that dream began to take shape the night your mother found out she was pregnant with you. excited and emotional, she shared the news with kei’s mother, who, half-jokingly, decided to take a pregnancy test of her own that same night. to both their surprise, it came back positive. the timing felt almost unreal, like fate had decided to honour a promise they’d made years ago.

you were born first—the beginning of everything. two months later, kei followed.

unlike your mother, who was experiencing motherhood for the first time, kei’s mother had already gone through it with akiteru. still, the joy between them was shared, overwhelming, and unforgettable.

when your mother held you for the first time, the world seemed to fall silent. you were a perfect blend of her and your father, her long-awaited miracle. she had once been told that having a child might not be possible for her—but there you were, healthy and real in her arms. in that moment, nothing else mattered.

because of that, your parents became incredibly protective of you. you were their only child, their treasure, and they wanted nothing more than to give you the best life possible. both of them were naturally outgoing and lively—but you were the opposite.

even as a small child, you were quiet and reserved, often choosing to observe rather than participate.

when you were eight, your mother noticed just how quiet you had become compared to other children your age. wanting to help you open up and experience something new, your mother and kei’s mother were talking about how introverted you guys both were and your mother, she decided to take you on a play date and kei’s mother was on board with that very idea.

“playdate?” you murmured, the word unfamiliar and confusing.

she smiled brightly, nodding with enthusiasm. “yeah! a playdate. doesn’t that sound fun, baby?”

when she saw the uncertainty on your face, her expression softened. she let out a small chuckle and reached over to gently reassure you.

“don’t worry, okay? we’ll just try it. and if you don’t like it, we can go straight home. deal?”

after a moment, you gave a small, hesitant nod, still unsure but willing to trust her.

not long after, you found yourself sitting in the backseat of the car as your mother drove. she sang along passionately to one of her favourite songs—completely off-key.

you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

as you gazed out the window, watching the world blur past, your thoughts wandered.

what exactly was a playdate going to be like?