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— — —
When Akemi arrived home, her feet—like they had a mind of their own—carried her to the storage closet under the stairs, where a large, dusty box lay waiting for her. Tentatively, she pulled it out and lugged it into the living room, before opening it to reveal the numerous tapes saved inside.
She selected one at random and plugged it into the player in the corner before snuggling up with Taro on the coach, her chin resting on his furry head as the TV blinked to life, and her dad's grinning face appeared on screen.
An hour later, Mika Kishimara arrived home to see her daughter cuddling a snoring shiba inu and crying silently while surrounded by a pile of used tissues, as home videos played on the TV of her late husband teaching a tiny Akemi how to play volleyball.
Wordlessly, Mika set her workbag down in the genkan and walked into the living room, only pausing to clear a space among the tissues to sit down. She rubbed a hand gently up and down her daughter's back. "Is there a reason you got these out, sweetie?"
"I was just missing him," Akemi sniffled in response, and her mom sighed in understanding, before leaning to rest her head on her daughter's shoulder, content to bask in the rare quality time. (Between Akemi's two part-time jobs and school and Mika's demanding shifts at the hospital, it was rare that the two were able to spend large amounts of time together.)
"You remember how I told you about Kuroo-kun?" Akemi asked suddenly, breaking the silence between them as they watched the current video. "I'm going to tell him yes."
Mika's eyes stung. She knew what her daughter had lost when her husband had died and how much she must have wrestled with herself before coming to this decision. Silently thanking her husband's spirit, wherever he might be, she smiled at her daughter. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that."
"I don't know how I'm going to do it without Dad."
"You don't need to know," her mom said, tears welling up in her eyes. "You just need to try."
Akemi laughed wetly. "You sound like Keiji."
"That's because Keiji-kun is smart," Mika hummed, before gathering her daughter up in a tight hug. "Your dad wouldn't want you to separate yourself from volleyball for the rest of your life. This is a great first step. I'm proud of you, and I know your dad is too."
Akemi's shoulders shook as a fresh wave of tears hit, and Mika started to cry along with her.
Overcome with emotion and grieving the missing member of their family, the two clung to each other tightly as the sky began to darken outside and the home video on their TV ended and the screen faded to black.
— — —
The next morning, tired but with a clear head for the first time that week, Akemi glared down at her Japanese Lit assignment in her chemistry class. She had put it off—a rarity for her, considering it was due later that day—and between people coming up to talk to her and announcements running over the intercom, she hadn't been able to focus enough to actually finish it. She clenched her pencil tighter in her hand, as yet another person walked up to her desk, ready to derail her concentration once more.
