The door’s already cracked open when he gets there.

Not all the way—just enough to let out the warm spill of light from inside, and the unmistakable squeal of his son’s voice bouncing off the walls. Rintarou’s shoulders drop as he steps inside, the win from tonight still buzzing in his blood, adrenaline just beginning to ease into exhaustion. He’s greeted not by silence, not by the slow solitude of his apartment, but by the chaos that belongs to him.

“Daddy!!” Rin’s voice hits him like a well-timed serve, tiny socked feet slapping against the floor as he rushes down the hall like a blur of excitement. He barely has time to crouch before the kid’s in his arms, breathless and wiggling. “You won! Mama said you won!”

“I did,” he says, breath catching with a laugh as he lifts Rin effortlessly, one hand bracing his back, the other pushing dark curls away from his son’s forehead. “You watch it on TV?”