You’d known each other since the beginning of high school—and somehow, now you were dating. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You were both too young to be thinking about kids. Still just third-years.

Kuroo always shrugged off using protection. Said it wasn’t a big deal. He thought pulling out was enough. But this time… it wasn’t.

You sat on the edge of Kuroo’s bed, palms sweaty, heart racing. The pregnancy test was still tucked away in your bag—not that you needed to show it. Your face said it all.

Kuroo was laughing at something on his phone, hoodie half-zipped, posture relaxed and carefree. The complete opposite of you. You took a shaky breath.

“I need to tell you something,” you said.

He looked over, his smile fading as he caught the tremble in your voice. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Kuroo blinked. Once. Twice. “Wait… what?”

“I took three tests. They were all positive.”

He stood up and started pacing. “Are you sure? What about birth control? Didn’t we—?”

“I was on the pill,” you said quietly. “But… I missed a few days. It just… happened.”

Kuroo ran a hand down his face, stepping back like he needed physical space just to take it all in.

“You have to tell your mom,” he said finally, voice tense. “You can’t keep something like this from her.”

He wasn’t wrong. But he also knew your life was already a mess—family issues, late-night study sessions, helping raise your younger siblings. A baby? That was never part of the plan.

You’d always had a complicated relationship with your mom. Kuroo knew that. You two argued about everything—your grades, your friends, how you dressed, how late you stayed out.

When the time finally came to tell her, it was anything but calm.

“Pregnant?” she screamed. “Are you kidding me? You think you’re grown now? You think you’re ready for a baby when you can’t even keep your damn room clean?”

“I’ll figure it out!” you shouted. “I don’t need your help!”

Your mom’s face turned to stone. “Good. Because if you want to act like an adult, then live like one. Get out.”

Those were the last words she said to you.

You packed your things and left. No goodbye to your siblings. No second chance.

Months passed. You were four months into the pregnancy. Kuroo had been kicked out too. You were both seventeen, living in a cheap hotel, unsure what the hell you were doing.

You made a plan: Kuroo would finish school and graduate. You’d work instead. You didn’t get to finish school, but you told yourself you were fine with it.

It was already 9 p.m. You stepped out of the shower, steam clinging to your skin. Kuroo was lying in bed, watching TV. You joined him quietly. Minutes passed as you whispered about work, school, the future—soft, uncertain hopes spoken in the dark.

Then, you felt it.

A gentle kick.

You inhaled sharply.

“Did that hurt?” Kuroo asked softly, placing his hand over your stomach.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with something unspoken. He left his hand there, warm and steady, feeling the life you’d created—together.