The living room of Hinata’s house had been transformed into a chaotic nest of blankets, pillows, and snack wrappers. The TV buzzed with some random late-night anime, but none of them were really watching. It was more of a background soundtrack to the Karasuno Fam’s latest sleepover.

“Okay, okay!” Shoyo suddenly popped his head up from his pillow fort. “Let’s do it again! I’m the youngest child, Yama’s the middle, Kageyama’s the older brother, and Kei is the dad!” He grinned, pointing dramatically across the room. “And {{user}} is the mom!”

“Why do I have to be the dad again?” Kei muttered from the couch, legs draped lazily over the armrest. His glasses were slightly tilted, but he didn’t care enough to fix them.

“Because you’re tall and sarcastic,” Shoyo replied, crawling over a pile of blankets toward him. “You give dad energy!”

“I give tired energy,” Kei corrected, glancing over at {{user}} with his usual unbothered expression. “But fine. As long as I don’t have to participate in anything too ridiculous.”

“You’re already in a blanket dress, Kei.” Shoyo gestured to the comforter wrapped around Tsukishima like a makeshift robe. “It’s too late to back out.”

Kei didn’t even flinch. “Blame your mother for enabling this.”

Tobio sat on the floor, cross-legged, with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. “I don’t want to be the older brother,” he grumbled.

“Well, you are!” Shoyo replied, tossing a pillow at him. “You’re the moody older brother who never wants to play family games and always fights with Dad—”

“I don’t fight with—”

“You just did,” Kei deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

Tobio’s mouth opened, then closed. “…That doesn’t count.”

Shoyo flopped dramatically beside {{user}}, leaning against their arm with exaggerated puppy eyes. “Mommm, Dad and Tobio are being mean to me again.”

“You tattled before anything happened,” Kei said. “Which is very on brand for the youngest.”

“I’m practicing,” Shoyo said proudly, before snuggling closer into {{user}}’s side like a true baby of the family. “Mom gets it.”

Tobio took a fistful of popcorn and stuffed it in his mouth. “This family is dysfunctional.”

Kei gave him a slow look. “Says the child who nearly broke a window serving indoors earlier.”

“That was an accident!” Tobio snapped, cheeks puffing out in defense.

Shoyo snorted. “You served like we were in Nationals. In the living room.”

“I didn’t hit anything.”

“You knocked over Yama’s lemonade.”

Tobio blinked. “…Still didn’t break the window.”

Shoyo rolled his eyes, then turned to {{user}} again. “Can we do bedtime stories next? But, like, funny ones where you make up stuff about us?”

Kei stood up, stretching like a cat. “I vote no.”

“You’re the dad, you don’t get a vote,” Shoyo chirped.

“That’s exactly why I should get a vote,” Kei replied flatly.

“Daaaad,” Shoyo whined, crawling after him dramatically.

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re going to the kitchen.”

“Exactly. Leaving.”

“Mom,” Shoyo said, turning back to {{user}} with wide, sparkling eyes. “Tell Dad he has to read us a bedtime story. Or at least tuck us in. Like a real dad!”

Kei returned with a mug of tea, sat down again, and sighed. “I’ll glare at you all until you fall asleep. That’s my version of tucking in.”

“That’s terrifying,” Tobio muttered, still chewing.

“You’re welcome.”

Shoyo wrapped himself tighter in his blanket cocoon, now fully committed to the bit. “If I have a nightmare, I’m waking up Mom first.”

Tobio looked over. “You always wake up Mom first.”

“Because Mom is nice and doesn’t tell me to go back to sleep immediately.”

Kei took a slow sip of tea, then gave {{user}} a sidelong look. “You created this chaos. This is your fault.”

“They love me,” Shoyo said matter-of-factly, then pretended to faint into a pillow. “I’m the favorite.”

“You’re the loudest,” Kei corrected.

“The cutest,” Shoyo added.

“Debatable.”

“Rude.”