The First Word Atsumu’s Little Girl Says, Is A Swear Word.

The first word Atsumu’s little girl says, is a swear word.

It’s not like he was actively trying to get her to swear, honest! If anything, you’d been trying to get her to say either mumma or dadda, jingling toys in her face to encourage her, calling each other such nicknames (the jackals have an absolute field day with it) for her to recognize, but she was not budging. She’d merely giggle or blink confused at the two of you being wildly dramatic in your actions.

And sure, he should’ve been more careful, but it’s all ‘Samu’s fault!

Well. According to Atsumu, anyways.

“You sure you should be walkin’ around with her while you call me?” Osamu asks, his own phone propped on the register while he counts the receipts from the lunch rush. “I’ll be over in a minute anyways, and you’re not the most… agile.”

“Who you callin’ not agile!” Atsumu whines, scrunching his face up as his little girl paws at his cheeks. “Name one time when I wasn’t agile!” When Osamu opens his mouth to speak, Atsumu cuts him off with a quick “don’t answer that” and a small scowl.

“‘Tsumu, if you can spell agile-“

“I don’t get paid to spell, let alone for free, for you.”

“I’m just sayin’ you’re a little clumsy ‘s all,” his brother defends, stapling the receipts all together. “And I’d hate to have to text your wife that you dropped the baby, while tryin’ to tell me you’re not clumsy.”

“I’m so hurt you think so low of me,” Atsumu whines. “I’m just carrying my kid around, what’s the worst-“

Before he can finish his sob story, a loud THWAK! rings out in the room, so loud it even causes Osamu to look up; he slow smirk curls on his lips, and a smug ‘you okay?’ falls unsympathetically, while Atsumu’s face pales, and he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. It wobbles in pain, and his eye twitches to try and hide the tears that well in his waterline, and who the fuck decided to put a coffee table right there anyways-

“FFFFF-UCK!” The blonde screams, eliciting squealy giggles from his daughter, and deep chuckles from his traitor of a brother. “O-oh my God, what the fuck! Jesus Christ, I thought we’d moved this fuckin’ thing!”

His body fills with nausea as he struggles to not burst into tears in front of his brother, his child still laughing with absolutely no remorse or sympathy, that little monster. Slowly, and with a grunt of pain with every step, Atsumu limps over to the couch, setting his child and phone down to cradle his possibly broken toe. Osamu, still wheezing from his laughter, merely rolls his eyes as he listens to his brother struggle, a sigh to further calm himself easing past his lips.

“Jeez, dude, ya stubbed your toe, how bad could it-“

“Shut the fuck up, I feel like I’m going to puke!” Atsumu snarls, panting and groaning in pain. “I think I fuckin’ broke it-“

“Oi, watch your mouth-“

“Oh, what, ya think your niece is finally gonna fuckin’ say her first word, we’ve been trying to get her to fuckin’ say something for the past fuckin’ eight months-“

“Fffahk!” The toddler parrots, with absolute perfect timing. Her tiny eyebrows furrow, as if the word feels strange on her tongue, and if Atsumu thought he was going to puke before, now the bile was actually rushing up his throat. Osamu cackles on the other end, his face red and body squirming as he laughs freely, hands even coming down to smack his leg. This, in turn, causes his niece to pick up Atsumu’s phone and look at her uncle, cooing happily at the sight.

“Oh my god, I needed that today, whew!” He wipes a tear from his eyes as Atsumu slowly brings the phone up to his face, still pale but only now because his child said her first word, and it was so far from the words he’d wanted her to say.

“Oh I’m so divorced-“

“Oh, you so are.”

“Uh… what do I gotta pay you to not tell my wife, your best friend and the love of my life about this?”

“Oh, trust me ‘Tsumu,” osamu begins with a sigh, grabbing his phone to head to the kitchen and make his twin his promised lunch. “There is not a thing you could pay me that could keep me quiet from this.”

“‘Samu please, be merciful, I don’t ask ya for much-“

“Okay, now that’s funny.”

Sure enough, just a minute later, his phone buzzes with a text from you, excitedly asking what your two year old’s first word was.

“OSAMU!”

“Osss…mu!”

“Oh now you start talking.”