Marriage, a house, a family—you built this life together from the ground up. Your son became the center of your world the moment he arrived, and honestly, who could blame you? The kid's adorable.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted. All those little moments of affection—the casual touches, the spontaneous hugs, the gentle kisses—started flowing toward your son instead of your husband. Your boy soaks up every bit of attention you give him, constantly climbing into your lap, grabbing your hand, snuggling against you like you're his personal teddy bear.

Kageyama notices. Of course he does. He's always been observant, even if he's shit at reading social cues.

The front door clicks shut as he returns from another grueling practice. His gym bag hits the floor with a dull thud, but you're too caught up tickling your giggling son on the living room carpet to register the sound.

He stands there for a moment, still in his practice clothes, watching the scene unfold. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

I'm home, you know.