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voleurdesoleil-archive · 1 year

Text

The lines we shouldn’t cross

part 1/2 - I’ll be holding on to our favorite song

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Ship: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Tendou Satori

Word count: 10.6K

A/N: this is a companion fic to this fic, that gives you a little bit more context, but both can be read independently from each other. Songs quoted in this fic are:

Distance - Ruel

Holding on - Francis Karel (also the title for this part)

Handle with care - Francis Karel

read on AO3

You were dressed up in the same fit

That you wore back when I met you

I couldn't hide my smile when you walked in

Swear that it lit up the room

It’s raining. In a movie scene the sky would have been a clear blue one, or a ray of sunshine would have broken through the clouds just as he turned the corner. But this is not a movie scene and the sky is heavy with dark clouds.

He's walking towards the store, but he hasn't seen me yet, standing in front of it.

His eyes are set on the sky and I know he’s happy. Not because of the way he’s almost skipping under the rain but because he's always loved the way each layer of clouds moves in a different direction and at a different pace during rainy days.

I still remember that one day, back in high school. He stayed over the night because it had started pouring after our date. We slept in the same bed for the first time that night, but when I woke up the next day, he was sitting by the window buried under my weighted blanket, his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate and he had the most gleeful smile on his face I had ever seen at that time. It had rained so much during the night that we couldn’t go to class because the streets were flooded, so we cuddled up all day and watched a few movies. We talked a lot too. But he always gravitated back to the window to look at the sky and, when I asked why, he answered that he always thought those big clouds that barely moved reminded him of himself, while the ones who were going fast reminded him of the people surrounding him; never sticking around. That day, with that simple sentence, I understood I would never be able to let go of that guy. So I know this is the perfect weather for him, because ever since that day it has also been mine.

His head is bobbing left and right to the music, his fingers are on his thigh, tapping to the rhythm of the song. He’s mouthing the words of the song and because of that I’m guessing that he’s listening to the Ratatouille song. He has been trying to learn the lyrics for the past couple weeks, claiming that this is going to help improve his French. Yet three days ago, when he was convinced he knew it by heart, he sang it to me because Elliott had said that it sounded nothing like French and he wanted another opinion. So I listened to him, but what came out of his mouth that day sounded nothing like the song. Yet he was so proud of himself that I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

His hair, which he cut short back in uni because he didn't like wearing hairnets, has grown back since the last time I saw him and I know he’ll probably ask me to cut it while I’m here. He’s been living here for almost 4 years and still hasn’t found a hairdresser he trusts enough to cut his hair, so I always end up being the one cutting his hair because he’s still too scared to do it by himself.

He's wearing the shirt I gifted him on his first birthday we spent together; the one he grabs out-of habit when he doesn't know what to wear. And I am always amazed with the fact that he hasn't outgrown it yet or that it’s tearing apart because he wears it so often that it’s completely discolored.

He waves to the elderly lady coming out of the apartment building and greets her with a warm smile. She's one of his regulars, always coming to buy chocolates for her grandchildren or simply to chat a little. She handed me an umbrella earlier when she saw me standing in the rain. She glances at me now with a gentle smile.

He apologizes as he bumps into a passerby when barely avoiding a trash can.

His socks are mismatched and I know he either didn't hear his alarm or he turned it off before going back to sleep for another 5 minutes that turned into another 30 minutes and that he had to rush out of the house; like he already did back in uni.

He stops and I gaze back up.

Our eyes meet. He saw me.

He breaks into a wide smile. A smile so blinding and that I haven't seen in so long.

His nonchalant walk turns into rushed steps until he's running to me. He's saying something but he's still too far for me to hear what he's saying but I know he's asking what I'm doing here.

He doesn't falter when he jumps into my arms, because he knows they'll be here to catch him. They've always been and they always will be. His arms cross on the back of my neck and his forehead comes to rest on mine. His lips are so close, I can feel his breath on mine but he doesn't kiss me. Not yet. Not when he hasn't processed the fact that I'm standing here, in front of his store, in a street in Paris, when I should be in Japan training for the upcoming game against the MSBY Black Jackals.

I know he's taking in the scent of the cologne he bought me for Christmas last year. Just like I'm taking in the scent of chocolate lingering on his skin.

His hands come to rest on my cheeks as he moves away to take a better look at me, my name softly leaving the barrier of his lips, and it's the most beautiful thing I've heard in months.

"You're here…" he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"I am."

"How?"

"I took a flight."

He laughs and I think my heart skips a beat. "I know that Ushijima, but why?"

"Because I missed you Tendou-" I let him down on the ground, my arms instinctively wrapping around his waist. I need to keep him close, to keep basking in that sweet scent of chocolate mixed with the almond scent of the soap he uses, "-a lot. A little too much. Way too much"

You're right there

But I won't say that I'm standing

I'm right here, when I see you I panic

That's when it hits him. That this moment in time is real. That it isn't some daydream. And his lips crash on mine.

My heart swells with elation as his hands find their way under my coat and that his fingers send shivers up my spine as they graze against my skin when he fumbles for the belt loops of my jeans and draws me closer.

Running out of breath, I part with him before I slip my hands on the back of his neck and pull him back in, deepening the kiss. Igently pry his lips open a bit more, wanting, no, needing to taste more of him.

But the kiss is cut short as we hear someone clear their throat beside us. A girl picked up the umbrella I dropped when Tendou jumped into my arms and is now standing next to us. She gives us an apologetic smile.

"Sorry to interrupt Boss but the store's opening in five minutes and I need the keys to go in." She looks at me, wondering if she should say anything, that’s when I recognize her. She had been standing in front of the door, taking a peek inside or knocking on the door from time to time, and although her face seemed familiar, I couldn’t remember her name. She finally decides acknowledging my presence might be better. “Nice to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Margaux.”

Without looking at her Tendou hands her the keys, but as she walks back to the store’s front door, he calls her out.

“Wait! Isn’t Elliott supposed to be inside? Why didn’t you go in already?”

“He is, the light is on at the back but I’m guessing he’s either elbow deep in chocolate and can’t look at his phone or he’s once again blasting music and can’t hear his phone because I’ve been texting and calling him for 10 minutes but he hasn’t answered.”

Tendou drags a hand across his face and sighs. “I swear I’m going to kill that kid if he’s once again blasting that weird ass song!” As he follows the girl inside the store, he grabs my hand and tugs me along with him.

Just as we enter the shop a boy I don’t recognize, barely younger than Tendou, comes rushing from the back room, holding his phone in one hand and a set of keys in the other, but when he sees us he stops right in his tracks and turns back on his heels, rushing back into the kitchen.

Tendou runs after him. “Elliott! Come back here! For fuck’s sake what did you do? Elliott!”

Margaux, unfazed by the chaos going on around her, turns on the lights and starts quickly taking down the chairs from the tables.

“You can sit at the counter if you’d like, or you could help me. I don’t know, do whatever you want. But just don’t stand in the entryway, you’re going to scare people away.”

“Oh, right! Sorry!” I say, reaching for the chairs nearest to me and finishing to take them down as she grabs a towel to wipe the tables. “Are they always like that?”

“Pretty much yeah… Not in front of customers of course, but I mean you know the Boss…he’s a little…how do I say that without offending you? He’s a little “extravagant”...” She throws me a doubtful look, but I have to give it to her. Tendou can be a handful at times, so I nod and she continues. “Well Elliott might be just as extravagant so when Arthur, the other chocolatier, you’ve probably met him before, isn’t here to intervene it’s always a bit of a mess, but they surprisingly work well together. They’ll calm down in a minute, you’ll see.”

And she’s right. A few minutes later, as we're setting the still warm pastries on the glass shelves, their little quarrel dies down in the kitchen and they come out, each holding a tray of freshly baked pain au chocolat.

Tendou hands the one he’s holding to Margaux while Elliott helps her to finish up before they open the doors for the clients already waiting at the door. He walks up to me, wraps his arms around my waist and stands on his tiptoes to land a quick peck on my cheeks.

“What do you want to do? You’re probably tired, do you want my keys to go rest at my apartment and we’ll see each other tonight?” His grip on my waist slightly tightens as he says those words. “If my other chocolatier was here I’d take the day off, but I can’t leave Elliott and Margaux on their own…”

“I know and I’m not asking you to. I’d like to wait for you here if that’s okay with you. I slept almost all the entirety of the flight so I’m not really tired.”

“I don’t mind you staying here at all, but don’t try to distract me with your pretty face, okay?”

“I’ll make myself as discreet as possible. I promise.” I say, trying to stifle a yawn. Thankfully Margaux makes for a good distraction when she chimes in.

“You’re gonna have a hard time being discreet. A few customers would like to get your autograph.” She informs us, pointing at people waiting expectedly at the counter.

***

I had been signing autographs all morning when Margaux sat down at my table with her lunchbox, setting down a sandwich in front of me.

“Thank you.” I say in between yawns.

“You’ve been working hard all morning, that’s the least I can do. And if you want more coffee or anything let me know, it’s been pretty busy so I’m sorry if I can't really check up on you.”

“You have been keeping me awake and well hydrated so far, so I have no complaints.”

She laughs. “Good to know.”

We both start exchanging anecdotes about Tendou as we eat lunch. She tells me about work stories and I tell her about High school ones. We’re sometimes interrupted by customers she has to serve or by people wanting an autograph.

As a matter of fact, I’ve just finished signing one for a young man, when I ask Margaux the question that’s been haunting me all morning. “If you don’t mind me asking, how come so many people recognize me? I mean, on my way here, apart from a few Japanese people on the plane, no one knew who I was, same as I was standing in front of the store this morning. So I am a bit confused with the sudden interest, especially since this never happened when I visited before and because Tendou said volleyball isn’t really big in France.”

“Yeah, you’re right, people do tend to prefer soccer, but I’m surprised you haven’t noticed that the answer to your question is right there.” She says pointing at the wall behind the counter and that’s when I see it.

I had been out of it all morning, trying to stay focused on people striking a conversation or just straight out trying to stay awake so I didn’t notice it earlier.

Right behind the cash register, in a frame, between two shelves of bread loaves, is one of my first jerseys of the national Japanese team. The one Tendou had asked me to sign last year, always refusing to tell me what he would do with it. I had supposed he wanted to keep it for himself, like he’s been doing with each of my jerseys since we started dating. Although I was a bit confused about him asking to sign it that day, it’s now starting to make sense.

But the jersey isn’t what catches my eyes, it’s the picture under it. It was taken after my very first official game with the Japanese team. Tendou had flown back home for the occasion after months spent away from each other. As I was going around the court with Kageyama, signing autographs for kids, I felt a tap on my shoulder and when I turned around he was standing there, smiling. Pulling him into my arms I lifted him off the ground and held him tight against me as he wrapped his legs around my waist.

I don’t even need to get closer to know that both our faces show a wide smile in the picture, or that Tendou is holding my face in his hands about to pepper kisses all over it. That we’re both holding back tears, and I can almost feel his breath against my lips when he told me how much he missed me and when I answered with a simple “I love you”.

If it wasn’t for a journalist capturing that exact moment, this picture would have never existed. We do not have many pictures together in our everyday settings due to us living so far away from each other, even if this picture went around all the tabloids in Japan, I still cherish it and have a copy of my own in our shared house.

There’s a legend underneath but I’m too far away to be able to read it, but before I can stand up Margaux says. “It reads ‘This is a picture of me and my husband, Japanese volleyball player, Ushijima Wakatoshi’. Everyone here, all of our regulars, know who you are. You’re the Boss’ pride and joy and never once have I seen him get tired of mentioning you every time he can. I mean, we had to stop him from turning that one wall into a shrine for you.” She takes out her phone. “I think I have a video somewhere of him rambling about you to a customer. We’ve had to interrupt him so many times or he’d scare the customers away. To this day, the only times he sounds fluent in French is when he talks about you, and we both know how bad he is at French, so it says a lot.” She looks up at me, and I can’t help but chuckle.

Unfortunately for us, Tendou exits the kitchen just at that moment. “Pardon?! My French is excellent! I was born to speak French!”

“I’m sorry Boss, but quoting Ratatouille doesn’t make you fluent in French…” Margaux lets out before escaping to the kitchen.

“Is that what you’ve been doing all morning? Dissing my perfect French with my employee?” Tendou says loud enough so that Margaux, who’s standing behind the kitchen doors, can hear him, but he can’t help a smile to grow on his face. Even though they tease each other a lot, he’s quite fond of his employees and knows that if it weren’t for them he would have struggled so much more when he decided to open a chocolaterie here.

He serves the customer coming in and walks to the table I’m sitting at when they leave. Not bothering with grabbing a chair he just sits on my lap.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” He wraps his arms around my neck, his hands playing with the hair at my nape.

“I did this morning. I said I missed you.”

He stops fiddling with my hair and stares at me until I have to look away. “There’s more to you just missing me, right?”

“No.” I lie through my teeth.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, I’ve already told you, you’re a terrible liar. Plus you wouldn’t skip training, just because you’re missing me, especially when you have that charity game against the Black Jackals coming up.” He gently lifts up my chin forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Now, if you don’t wanna talk about it now because we’re in public, I get it, but tonight I wanna hear all about those feelings of yours that made you come here, okay?”

I nod and he smiles.

“That’s my boy! Now come here, I’ve missed that pretty face!” He says taking my face in his hands, starting to pepper kisses all over it.

“Margaux and Elliott could see us.” I say as his lips delicately brush against my cheek. Against the other one.

You would talk 'bout how your weeks been

Then you'd hit me out of the blue...

“I don’t care.” He whispers as he places a soft kiss right above my ear.

On my forehead.

“Your customers could see us.” This one lands on my jaw.

On the tip of my nose.

“My customers aren’t here.” He lets out under his breath as this one finally lands on my lips.

... With a kiss that doesn't really tell

Way to put me under your spell

And he’s kissing me. Once, twice, until our surrounding turns dizzy. Until I’m nothing more than this one kiss, swiftly becoming more than just a peck on the lips. His fervent mouth is parting my lips, asking for a bit more. And I give it to him. The rush of warmth on my face flows down my whole body like a growing tide and I’m clenching his shirt as he pulls on my hair, deepening the kiss. His hands are everywhere, and yet I can’t get enough of him. I will never get enough of him.

He leaves me breathless as he pulls away, rising from my laps with the most satisfied grin. But I need more and before he can walk away, I grab his wrist and sit him back down on my thighs. He lets out a gasp when my hand reaches for the back of his neck as I bring him closer for another round.

“Now what was that for?” He says, panting, when we finally pull away.

“That first one was really good, so I wanted another one.”

“I thought you were scared my customers could see us?”

I lean in, my head resting on his shoulder. “That was before I got a taste of those sweet lips of yours.”

My arm slithers around his waist as I place a peck on his jawline.

We’re interrupted by Margaux loudly putting down a tray of chocolates on the counter as she comes back from the kitchen before a client gets in. Tendou promptly gets up, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Are you sure you still don’t want to go home?” He asks straightening out the apron he’s wearing.

“I think I like the view here more than the one I’d get at your apartment right now.” I answer just loud enough for him to hear.

“What does that mean?”

I stand up and bring my empty plate to the counter. As I get back to the table and brush past him, I tilt my head down and whisper into his ear: “Let’s just say that Margaux picked the right table for me to get a view on the kitchen and that those pants fit you quite well.”

Tendou keeps a straight face as the customer walks past us. “I have to get the new batch of chocolate out of the fridge.” He lets out, before I can feel his breath as he hums into my ear, “But you’ll have to tell me more about that when we get home.”

***

Later that night, when I get out of the bathroom, Tendou is in the kitchen, preparing snacks, his back turned towards me and I have to take a moment to take the sight in. I lean against the doorway and watch him take bowls out of the cupboard or reach for food in the fridge after whispering to himself: “Oh, Ushijima likes those!” or “I need to make him try that!”. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board as he’s slicing different types of charcuterie or cheeses, and the sound of his voice as he hums along three different songs at the same time fill me up with so much joy that I have to take a deep breath not to start crying.

He only notices me when I come to rest my head in the crook of his neck and that my arms drape around his waist, swinging us both to the rhythm of the song he’s humming along. His hair, still wet from the shower, is dripping on his collar and I press a kiss on his cheek, before using my own towel to finish drying his hair. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Feeling better?” He asks as he leans back into the touch and that his body comes to rest on my naked chest.

“Yes, although I would have liked it better if you had stayed a little longer in the shower with me.” I had always been fond of the fact that Tendou allowed me a few minutes of alone time after we had come down together in the bathtub, or in the shower, but tonight, those 5 minutes I spent alone in the bathroom had felt like an eternity without him.

He turns around and wraps his arms around my neck. “I think we can remedy that tomorrow by taking another, longer, shower together. What do you say?”

“I say that I would really like that.”

“Great, now go put on a shirt or you’re the one who’s gonna catch a cold.”

I do as he says but not before stealing another gentle kiss from him.

He has moved on to opening a bottle of wine when I get back from the bedroom with a shirt on and the weighted blanket, so I start unfolding the pull-out couch, and turn on the TV as I wait for him to finish. I close the curtains, and turn off the lights before I make myself comfortable on the couch and start picking a movie. As I’m scrolling down on the streaming platform, I catch a glimpse of a few ones we’ve talked about watching together some time, but I scroll past them and pick one of his favorites.

“Et voilà!” He announces with the voice of a magician ending a trick.

He barges into the room with a tray of random snacks, and two glasses of rosé almost filled to the brim. The glasses wobble as he puts down the tray on the coffee table and I don’t know how he manages not to spill anything. If it was me, I would still be in the kitchen, walking no faster than a slug, spilling rosé everywhere or breaking a wine glass.

“Wait, how did you know I wanted to watch Ratatouille?” He exclaims when he sees the TV screen.

“You’ve been mentioning it quite often lately so I figured you had been meaning to watch it.”

“You’re the best!” He says, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing down a loud smooch on my cheek before cuddling up to me. “I love you.”

***

We’re barely 20 minutes in the movie and I’m starting to doze off when I notice that the bruises on his neck are already turning a darker shade of red. They'll be a bright purple by tomorrow morning. But even though I love the sight of them on his collarbone, I can't help but worry that I was too harsh on him. My fingers brush against them.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?” He asks before realizing I’m talking about the hickeys on his neck. “Oh! No, they don’t and if that’s what you’re wondering, no you didn’t hurt me when you gave them to me.” He sits up. “But let me take a look at your back, though. The marks I made seemed quite red in the shower, but I couldn’t get a good look.”

Before I can say anything, he’s pulling me up. I shiver when he throws away the blanket and takes off my shirt. “That’s not really bad but we should probably disinfect that. Just to make sure.” And so he runs to the bathroom and comes back with gauze and a little bottle of disinfectant.

He stops right in his tracks on his way back.

"What?"

"I just got stunned for a minute by how pretty you are."

And I'm a blushing mess.

I pause the movie as he sits behind me, landing a peck in between my shoulder blades while he’s at it.

I wince a little as he sprays the disinfectant on my back and wipes it using the gauze, but he often stops to make sure I’m doing okay, or simply to place a kiss on any part of me he has access to.

“This is the last one. It’s the only one that’s slightly bleeding, so it’s gonna sting a little.” He warns me before spraying it. “Do you want me to put a bandaid on it? The bleeding is really sparse but your shirt might stick to it a bit during the night.” He asks as he puts away the gauze and puts back the cap on the bottle of disinfectant.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, I’ll go grab one.” And so he is off running away again and coming back at lightning speed with a mischievous smile on his face and I don’t even need to see the bandaid to know that he has picked one of those kid ones with a silly pattern. “When are you going back?” He inquires as he applies the bandaid. “And I’m done!”

“Daichi booked me a ticket for the day after tomorrow, late afternoon.” I reply, putting my shirt back on as he moves to lay next to me. I grab the weighted blanket and pull it back on us before I scout closer to him, my arms instantly finding their place around his waist. And I hold him tight, as tight as I can to bask in his warmth, to hear his heart beating in his chest despite the movie playing again in the background. I need to feel his body against mine, to revel in his presence. I almost don’t hear him when he speaks again.

“So, we have almost two whole days together?”

It takes me a few seconds to process his question and query: “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I do, but you’ll come by, right?” There’s a hint of doubt in his voice when he asks that and my heart clenches in my chest a little. “I really liked having you there. I mean, we didn’t see each other much today but just knowing that you were in the next room felt great.”

I got skin as thick as stone, but a heart made out of glass

And I let my temper show then wish that I could take it back...

“Yeah, I know what you mean…” And I do. I know exactly what he means. I reminisce on the few months we spent together after he came back to Japan for a while after he graduated. After our wedding. And I can still hear his laugh when we had to turn off the fire alarm three times in a row because he had tried a new recipe and let it burn on the stove. Or when I was working out and that I could hear him laugh while watching a variety show in the next room. Or when I came back from work and saw the note he had left before going to work saying he would be late that night because he had a dinner party at work. Just simply knowing that he was living there in the house made me happy. But this was almost four years ago.

My hold around his waist tightens a bit more as those memories flow before my eyes.

His fingers stop racking through my hair. He tilts up my chin and I know he’s about to ask me something I’m not sure I’m ready to answer. That he’s debating whether he should bring it up or not. I brace myself for the question that’s coming but it doesn’t come and instead he lands the gentlest, most careful kiss on my lips and my heart breaks a little.

I already know what he wants to ask. I’ve worked out the answer already, so why is it so hard to talk about it? We’ve always talked about everything with each other. Never kept secrets. Not when he started feeling the need to leave Japan. Not when I started having more than friendly feelings for Daichi. Not when he had one night stands here. So what’s keeping us from talking about the fact that we obviously miss each other?

... It's hard to find someone to open up to

When your walls were built so tall

That no one's brave enough to break through

So I try to make it easier for him. Easier for us.

And I say: “Go ahead, ask your question.”

He clears his throat. “It’s just that, earlier, at lunch, you said you missed me, but there was more to that, right? So what was it?”

I sit up in front of him, holding his hands in mine. “It wasn’t much more than missing you, really. I mean, it is a little bit more complicated than that, but it’s hard to explain.” And I'm being honest when I say there isn't much more to that. Because this is what those big feelings of mine are: just longing and yearning for the one man I wish I could spend my every waking moments with.

“Try anyways” He encourages me in a soft voice.

And the dam breaks upon those words. Every single thing I've kept for myself during the past few weeks gets out. “It’s just that lately I’ve really felt your absence in a way. I mean we text and call or facetime each other everyday, but I see all my friends going on dates with their partners, going home to their partners and I think I’m kind of jealous of all my friends in a way because everyday I’m coming home to empty rooms. And I can’t sleep because all I think about is the time we had together after our wedding, and how, now, we only spend a couple days together here and there, if we’re lucky a couple weeks. And I know we made this choice together, fully knowing what it meant for us, for our relationship. I knew it was going to be hard at times, but I can’t help wishing I could wake up next to you.

“Before, I could talk about it with Kageyama because he was going through the same thing with Hinata, but now that Hinata is back and it feels like I have no one to talk to about that kind of stuff anymore. No one who is able to really understand what it really feels like to be craving someone's presence and only be able to hear their voice through a phone.”

I don't know when I started crying or even when he sat on my lap but when the emotional flood stops he’s holding my face in his hands and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. He pulls me to his chest, one of his hands is rubbing my back while the other is in my hair. He’s grounding me back, soothing bits by bits the pieces of my heart that had been barely holding together. He’s telling me we’re going to be okay and right now in his arms I want to believe him. I want to believe that he’s right and that we’ll be able to overcome that.

But I'm not beyond repair

I'm just a little lost out here

I'm not as tough as I appear

So if we go there

Handle me with care

***

When the movie ends, Ushijima is fast asleep in my arms. I brush away a strand of his hair and take a moment to gaze upon his face.

This is the first time, since I saw him this morning, that he looks at peace. His hands are firmly grabbing onto my shirt and I think about what he said earlier and wonder how long he had been feeling like this for him to book a flight on a whim, him who usually plans our vacations by the minute. So right now as I’m holding him in my arms, I wonder if I did something wrong. If I did something that made him feel like he couldn’t talk to me about this.

And I start thinking about the past few weeks and the things I should have noticed. The fact that he was texting me more often even though he had never been a huge fan of texting and always preferred calls over texts. The fact that these calls were lasting longer and that he had trouble saying goodbye and yet when we video called he was avoiding my gaze. And yet, with all that he was quieter than usual.

He was giving me less details about his days or forgetting about events I had mentioned before, even though he’s the type to write them down in his calendar app and set a reminder a few days before the event. Him being really flirty earlier today should have given me a hint too. He's not the type to flirt in public. He'll sometimes go for a quick peck if we’re surrounded by people we know, or an eager one if we haven't seen each other for a while. But that second kiss he went for, that was out of character and so were his flirty comment. He only does that when he's drunk or really sleepy.

I should have seen those signs. I should have noticed that there was something wrong, something he wasn’t telling me. Especially because I know him so well. Because I know that he’s always found it difficult to talk about his feelings. That he’s the type of person who would rather keep everything for themselves and blow it out of proportion by overthinking. And I think about this one time when we had just started dating, when he worried himself sick over the fact that he had trouble with skinship and he was scared to tell me because he thought I would break up with him because of that. And I’m relieved that we didn’t reach that point today but still I can’t help but blame myself because I should have made it easier for him to talk to me.

But I was so caught up in trying to get the new line of chocolates ready for Christmas and getting everything ready for his Christmas present that I did not pay attention to the one person who really needed me.

My arms tighten around him. I press a kiss on his forehead and even though he can’t hear me, I apologize. “I’m sorry Ushijima. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, but I promise you won’t be hurting much more. I’ll fix that, I promise you.”

And almost as if he had heard me, he lets out a content sigh and a smile grows on his face. He moves in his sleep and I don’t want to wake him up, but I do nonetheless.

“Mon coeur. Babe.” He buries his head in my chest and mumbles something I don’t understand, so I press another kiss on his forehead. “I know you want to sleep right now, but as much as I’d love to be able to do it, I can’t carry you to bed, so you’re gonna have to help me out on this one.”

I pull my shirt away from his hold, but he locks me in his arms before I can move so I throw away the blanket, hoping that’ll help. It doesn’t. He tugs me closer, nuzzles up in the crook of my neck and I swear I almost give up, right then, when I feel his warmth grow on me. When I feel his lips brush against my skin when he whispers that he doesn’t want to move, but I shake my head.

“Ushijima, mon amour, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch tonight, not after the day you spent, so help me out, okay?” I lift his chin up, preventing him from pressing more soft kisses on my neck. “You’ll get to cuddle up all you want once we're all warm and cozy in bed, buried in blankets, okay?” I land a small peck on his lips, hoping it’ll play in my favor.

And it works. He begrudgingly opens one eye. I give him another peck on the lips. He blinks and I'm left staring at his doe eyes, forgetting what I'm trying to do.

“One more please.” He pleads in a whisper.

“And you’ll come to bed with me if I give you another one?”

He nods and I give him another quick peck on the lips before reaching for the back of his neck. I pull him in for a gentle and reverent kiss.

Satisfied, he lets me go and sits up on the edge of the couch, before making grabby hands at me after I get up and my heart melts. I take his hands and help him up.

We stagger to the bedroom and he’s already half asleep on me as I pull out the sheets. He lets himself flop on the bed and I tuck him in before joining him under the sheets. I can barely cover myself with the sheets that he’s already pulling me to him.

“Please don’t leave.” He mutters before falling back asleep.

***

The next day I wake up to an empty bed, so I get up calling Tendou’s name but get no reply. I make my way to the kitchen to find a note on the fridge.

“I’m the one doing all the prep today so I’ll be at the store when you wake up. There’s rice in the rice cooker, leftover soup in the fridge and eggs if you want. The blender is in the bottom cupboard on the left of the fridge if you wanna make a smoothie. Text me when you’re up. Love you!!! ♡”

I take out the soup and put it on the stove to heat up while I go put the note in my bag and take my phone to find out that he already texted me.

10:38 -Hey, sleepyhead! Surprised you’re not awake yet, but I hope you’re getting a good sleep. You better dream of me.

10:44 -I just talked with one of my regulars, she said she saw you waiting in front of the store yesterday and asked if she’d get the chance to meet you again before you leave. She had a mischievous look on her face, I bet she just wants to spill all the tea with you! You better not show her my middle school haircut if she asks!!

10:45 -Nor my baby pics!!!

10:50 -You’re gonna have to try the new line of chocolates and candies I’m creating for Christmas this year!! I’m so excited to show you!

10:52 -You should bring some back home for the boys and for Daichi!!! I’ll prep a few boxes for you!!

11:14 -If you’re awake I was wondering if you’d like us to have lunch together today but if you’re not, we could have dinner at a restaurant tonight. Just let me know so I can book a reservation.

11:56 -Damn love! Am I gonna have to come wake you up with a kiss like Snow white?

11:57 -I was kidding, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss when I see you

11:57 -Or maybe a dozen

11:58 -Wait no!! I want thousands! I wanna get as many kisses as I can get before you go back!

12:23 -Are you going to pop by the store today? You don’t have to, that’s okay if you wanna rest, but I’d really like having you there.

12:24 -Though I do have to warn you people are asking after you, so if you don’t wanna deal with people I’d understand.

12:24 -Anygays, I love you Ushijima Wakatoshi ♡♡♡

I reply to every single text as I’m eating breakfast before I jump into the shower. I pop a couple different fruits and oat milk in the blender, go through every cupboard to find a reusable cup. I rummage through Tendou’s closet, looking for his red scarf and when I finally go out the door, the digital clock of the oven reads 12:57.

It takes me less than 20 minutes to walk to the store where I’m greeted by Elliott who is behind the counter this time, serving customers.

“Bonjour! Oh, it’s you! Tendou’s at the back with Margaux and Arthur, I’ll go fetch him for you in a minute.”

“Please, take your time!”

I take a seat while he finishes up with the people queueing. He pops his head in the kitchen and not even 20 seconds later Tendou is barging out of the kitchen, making everyone in the store jump in their chair. The lady closest to the kitchen drops her cup and Tendou rushes to help her.

“Oh mon dieu! Je suis désolé! Excusez-moi! Vous allez bien? On va vous refaire un café, ne vous inquiétez pas! Elliott, tu veux bien refaire un café pour madame et mets lui une ou deux viennoiseries aussi s’il te plait! Encore une fois désolé, madame! Ça va aller?”

She nods and he finishes wiping up her table. He tries cracking up a couple jokes and she smiles, but I think it’s more of an awkward one rather than her liking his jokes because he quickly finishes up and heads to the table where I’m seating. He sits in front of me with a sigh, his head down. His shoulders start shaking and at first I think he’s crying but he bursts into laughter, his cheeks a bright red. He buries his face in his hands.

“I’m so embarrassed! I made that poor lady drop her coffee.” He lets out in between two bursts of laughter.

“I know, I saw that.”

“Oh my god!” He tries to stifle a laugh but fails miserably. “What if she had been drinking? She would have spat it all out! She’s never coming back here again! I’m so ashamed, you have no idea!”

I take a peek where the lady is seated. “She doesn’t seem to be rushing out, so I think you’re alright. Elliott is apologizing again, I think. And she’s laughing, a real laugh, not a strained one like when you tried to make a joke. Also that’s the first time I’m hearing you speak French with such ease. I’m really proud of you.”

He whips up his head and wipes the tears coming up at the corner of his eyes. He takes a couple deep breaths and says: “I love you so much, but you could have picked another time to diss my hilarious sense of humor!”

“I love you too. And you know I think you’re the most hilarious person on the planet-” I reach across the table and he leans in. I whisper “-but I don’t think that lady shares my opinion.”

Tendou lets out a loud chuckle, but quickly hides behind his hand when a couple of people turn around. “I’m gonna lose so many customers because of you…” He clears his throat and sits up, trying to act like all of this didn’t happen, but I see him throwing sidelong glances at the customers around us. “So! Where do you wanna go tonight? I was thinking either our usual Japanese restaurant, or maybe the new restaurant that opened down the street near my apartment, what do you think?”

“I think our usual one might be the best since I’m heading back to Japan tomorrow. I don’t want to risk food poisoning on the plane.”

“Okay, I’ll make a reservation. But anygays, did you sleep well? You were really tired last night and you were sleeping so deeply when I left you were even talking in your sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you up with my texts this morning, though.”

“That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. And no, you didn’t wake me up.”

“How long have you not been sleeping well?”

I have to take a moment to think because I actually don’t recall the last time I’ve slept that well, so I’m taking a guess when I answer: “I think two weeks, maybe three.”

“Oh, Ushijima…” Tendou sighs

“I know! I know... I should have told you, but I didn’t want you to worry, especially with all the things you have to do to get ready for Christmas. And I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet either.”

Our discussion is interrupted by Arthur asking Tendou to come back to the kitchen.

He gets up and starts leaving.

“Am I not allowed even a small peck today? I thought you said you wanted thousands of kisses before I left!” I tease him.

He runs back, gives me a quick peck and walks to the kitchen, once again apologizing to the lady who dropped her coffee.

***

Later that day, as the traffic slows down a little, I’m sitting at the counter, speaking with Margaux while she makes me a hot chocolate. I had been signing quite a few autographs today as well, although a bit less than yesterday, but as the sun is starting to die down outside, there’s only a couple of people left in the store. There’s a student who has been revising for the past 2 or 3 hours, forgetting about his drink, which is probably cold by now. There’s another person who got here not too long ago and started reading a book. And there’s the person behind me who has been here for almost as long as the student who turned out to be a writer. We had a nice conversation where they told me about the plot of their story and I must admit it seemed enticing. But seeing those people, each doing their thing, I understand why Tendou loves that place so much.

Margaux pulls me out of my own thoughts “You know, I think he hired Elliott for you.”

“What do you mean for me? I live in Japan.”

“Exactly!”

“I’m afraid I’m not following you right now.”.

“I think he's settling things up to leave. To go back to Japan. For you.”

“What do you mean ‘go back to Japan’? Did he say anything”

“I’m not quite sure, he hasn’t said anything to me yet, but he’s been whispering a lot with Arthur. And the fact that he hired Elliott is a bit weird in my opinion. I mean we didn’t really need him. Sure, the store is getting well known and we’re getting more customers but it could have waited a bit. He wouldn’t have hired someone right now, just before Christmas, if he wasn’t planning something. But he hasn’t told me anything, so maybe I’m reading a little bit too much into this.”

Before I can answer, the machine beeps and she goes to get the cup of hot chocolate. But I can see she has an idea when she brings me my cup a little too quickly.

“Maybe you could try to get more information out of Isabelle if she comes back today!”

“Isabelle?” The name rings a bell but I can’t remember to whom it belongs.

“The old lady who gave you an umbrella yesterday morning.” Margaux explains, and it comes back. She’s Tendou’s regular. “He weirdly opens up to her more than he does to us, at least when it comes to feelings. When it comes to business he always goes to Arthur first, but you’re gonna have a hard time trying to speak to Arthur alone, so Isabelle might be your best option here. Ah, quand on parle du loup… Isabelle! Comment ça va depuis ce matin? Je parie que vous êtes revenu pour le joli coeur accoudé au comptoir!” I don’t understand what she’s saying but I’m guessing she’s talking about me because the old lady walks up to me.

“So it was you yesterday! You’re the husband of the lovely owner! I thought I had recognized you but I wasn’t sure…”

“I am. It’s nice to finally meet you! Tendou talks about you a lot!”

“Indeed, it’s nice to finally meet the person I hear so much about. Although sometimes it almost feels like we’ve already met a couple times because that boy’s stories never end when it comes to you.”

Margaux saves us from an awkward silence when she asks where Isabelle wants to sit.

“Would you like to join me?” I suggest. “I’m going to wait here the rest of the afternoon for Tendou so I’d really appreciate some company.”

“I would be very glad to do so, but may we switch to a different table? Those high chairs aren’t really comfortable for me.”

“Of course! I have been sitting at that table over there!” I say pointing to the table where I’ve been signing autographs since yesterday.

We both sit down together and exchange pleasantries. To my utmost surprise she switched to Japanese when we sat down and I learned that she had been a French teacher in Tokyo when she was younger. We’ve moved onto sharing anecdotes about Tendou when she asks. “You have something on your mind, don’t you, my dear?”

“How do you know?”

“Let’s say Tendou was right when he said your face was as easy to read as an open book. So what’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

“It’s just that Margaux mentioned something earlier and she said you might be able to help me understand what she meant…”

“I can try, but you’re going to have to tell me what it was if you want me to help.”

I take a deep breath, trying to find the best way to word what has been going on in my mind. “She said Tendou might be thinking of going back to Japan. Permanently.”

“Oh…”

The awkward silence that follows is enough of an answer to tell me that Margaux was right. “So, it’s true?”

“Well…” She hesitates and I’m guessing she isn’t sure she’s allowed to tell me but she must be feeling my concern because she continues anyway. “Your husband hasn’t figured it all out yet, he’s still trying to decide what to do with this place, but yes. He’s pretty set about going back to Japan.”

“But why? I mean he’s doing well here, so why would he want to go back? He spent years trying to make it here and, now that he has finally fulfilled his dream, he wants to give it all up?”

“I’m not your husband, so I can’t say for sure, but I guess the answer is pretty obvious. I mean it is to me. We talked about it again this morning, actually, and the answer is you. You’re the reason he wants to go back to Japan.”

She tries to explain, tries to tell me about Tendou’s plans, and I want to tell her that she’s wrong, that she must be mistaken, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out. So I’m sitting here, listening to that lady telling me about Tendou wanting to go back home as every sound becomes a blur and I watch my world crumbling apart because Tendou made a promise and now he’s breaking it.

***

I don’t remember going back home. I only remember bits and pieces of our date at the restaurant. I remember cutting his hair, but everything in between is blurred. As I lay in bed, I feel myself coming back. The conversation I had with Isabelle is stuck in my head, and I can’t sleep.

When did I get so obsessive?

I'm obsessing over nothing...

Pushing away the blankets I get out of bed before I suffocate and go to the bathroom; maybe freshening up will help. So I splash water on my face. Once. Twice. It feels like I'm drowning. This is clearly not working. I need something else. If I was in Japan I would go on a run, but I'm not and I don't know my way around Paris, so going for a run is not an option. I decide that maybe a glass of water will help so I head for the kitchen.

...I wish I could erase our past

'Cause now I'm sticking through this overpass

There’s a picture of us on the fridge that catches my eye. It’s partly hidden by bills and another picture, but I can still see us clearly, posing in front of his store on the opening day.

I can still recall the joy on Tendou's face when he told me about this new project. The absolute glee in his voice when he called me to say that the renovation work was complete and they would be able to open up soon. But most of all I can clearly recall his first words when he stepped into the chocolaterie on the opening day: ‘This is a dream come true.’

And now Isabelle's words echo in my head and they don't make sense to me. We promised each other we'd never get in the way of our dreams, that was our rule. That's why we've lasted so long. We've both been fulfilling our dreams and making our relationship work. So hearing that Tendou is thinking about giving it all up because of me. Especially just after I told him I'd been missing him so much.

That's exactly the reason I didn't want to tell him what was going on. Because I don't want to be the reason he doesn't fulfill his dream. I don't want him to end up resenting me for having to give up his dream because I couldn't stay alone in a house. I don't want him to give up the thing he worked so hard for. The thing that makes him happy. The thing that made his childhood easier to bear. That makes his bad days a little better. The thing that makes his eyes shine when he gets new ideas.

I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to impose that on him when I hear footsteps behind me and I realize that I got here for a glass of water and that I’m standing in front of the fridge with my glass still full, not knowing how long I’ve been standing there. I turn around and I’m met with a sleepy Tendou, looking at me with his eyes half open.

He drags himself across the kitchen and stops in front of me. His arms find their place around my waist as he rests his chin on my chest. He looks up at me with a pout.

“Please, come back to sleep. I’m cold without you.”

I chug down the glass of water before cupping his face in my hands and placing a gentle peck on his pouty lips.

He wraps his arms around my neck as I squat down to grab the back of his knees and his head rolls in the crook of my neck when I lift him off the floor. I can feel his breath against my skin as I carry him back to the bedroom and when he whispers:

“I wish you could stay a little longer.”

“I wish I could, too.” I answer as I let him down on the bed.

***

When I wake up the next morning, the bed is cold beside me. Ushijima isn’t here and I’m carefully tucked in bed. I call for him but the only answer I get is the calm silence of my apartment. Maybe he went to the bakery. Last night, at the restaurant, he did say he had missed being able to eat so many pastries and he often plans a trip to the bakery whenever he visits so he can bring back pastries to Japan. This always comes as a surprise to me because Ushijima never had that big of a sweet tooth but he’s a sucker for pastries. I still remember the first time he tried to bring some pastries back to Japan. I was still a student, I think it was the first year we had been away from each other, and that was the first time he had visited. I remember him calling me when he got back to his apartment, to tell me about the airport security pulling him aside because they thought the contents of his baggage was suspicious so they wanted to take a look. It turned out he had packed too much food and they had to take away a bunch of the pastries he had tried to sneak into his baggage, especially the ones that had custards or other types of similar filling because they weren’t packed in the right containers. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he was raiding the bakery down the street of all their pastries.

So I got up and took a shower, thinking that he’d be back when I got out of the shower. Except, I take my sweet time in the shower, and when I get out of the bathroom about half an hour later he’s still not back, so I start to worry.

Talked about it last night, thought I was fine

Helped you pack your things, put your bags in the hallway...

He hasn’t answered the text I sent him before getting into the shower, so I try to call, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he went on a run. I try not to panic. He had been restless all night, waking me up a couple of times because he kept tossing and turning in bed. And when I found him in the kitchen he looked lost in his thoughts. So I go to the kitchen because, if he did go on a run, he would have left a note in the kitchen, next to the coffee machine, because he knows that's usually the first thing I do when I wake up. So that’s where I’m headed, cursing myself for not doing that today, but there’s nothing next to the coffee machine, neither on the fridge nor on the kitchen table. And I start to panic this time. What if something happened? He doesn’t speak French and French people do not speak English and even less Japanese. So I try to call him another time, but this time I’m greeted by a voice that tells me the user I’m trying to call cannot be reached at the moment. And I’m submerged by anxiety.

He’s alone, somewhere in Paris, and his phone is off. So I rush back to the bedroom to grab a coat and that’s when I see it, sitting on my bedside table.

...Maybe in a past life, problems aside

We could make it home, I'd hear you when you're calling

And my heartbeat slows down for a second until I realize the piece of paper sitting on my bedside table is too big to be just a note. I sit on the side of my bed and grab the paper. I unfold it to discover it’s a letter written in Ushijima’s awkward handwriting.

“Dear Satori,

Four years ago, we made a decision. We chose to live away from each other: you in France, me in Japan. We had done it before so how hard could it be this time around? We did it once, we could do it twice, right? But today I’ve come to realize that we were wrong and that we made the wrong decision that day and I’ve been holding on for too long.

Missing you isn’t the reason I came here and, even if it’s an undeniable truth, that’s not the real reason. The real reason is that I’m tired of missing you and I don’t want to keep living like this.

I don’t want to keep waiting for you to walk through the door every evening. I don’t want to keep living surrounded by empty rooms that scream your absence. I don’t want to keep living my life as if everything is going well when the only thing I want to do is scream until I cannot utter a single sound.

I’m sorry if this comes as a shock to you (guess I’m a better liar than you thought I was). But I'm done acting like this doesn't affect me, because I'm tired, really tired Tendou. I know that we've come a long way, that we overcame so much, but this doesn't feel like something we're going to be able to get through.

I meant to tell you earlier. I meant to tell you face to face, I thought I could do it. But having you in front of me made every speech I had prepared fly out the window and I couldn’t summon the courage to say it out loud and so instead I’m doing the shittiest thing I could possibly do: writing you this letter.

But now I can finally say it: I’m letting go.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

#haikyuu!!#ushijima wakatoshi #tendou satori #ushiten #ushijima x tendou #haikyuu!! fic #haikyu #haikyuu fic #ali's writing

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basically-i-write-shit · 7 months

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Chapters: 1/15 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi Characters: Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi, Hinata Shouyou, Various Karasuno Character(s), Haikyuu!! Ensemble Additional Tags: Yamaguchi Tadashi-centric, Alternate Universe - Cults, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Psychotropic Drugs, Captive, Forced Bonding, Forced Feminization, Violence, Corporal Punishment, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Yamaguchi Tadashi, Alpha Tsukishima Kei, Omega Sugawara Koushi, Omega Hinata Shouyou, Omega Ennoshita Chikara, Alpha Sawamura Daichi, Alpha Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Omega Kinoshita Hisashi, Beta Nishinoya Yuu, Alpha Azumane Asahi, Alpha Narita Kazuhito, Alpha Ukai Keishin, Omega Takeda Ittetsu, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Extremely Dubious Consent, Altered Mental States, Manipulation, Yamaguchi Tadashi Needs a Hug, Out of Character Sugawara Koushi, Aged-Up Character(s), Rated For Violence, Broken Bones, Whump Summary:

Yamaguchi Tadashi finds himself the object of an entire pack's affections after being rescued from the woods, and they have no intentions of letting him leave- even if that means essentially holding him hostage in the small, remote village they live in.

The long-awaited official Starlight AU fic is out! Check back every other day through the month of October for updates! <3

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic #tsukkiyama #tsukkiyama fanfic #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #alpha beta omegaverse #omegaverse fic

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myreygn · 2 years

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i wrote this as a birthday present for someone on twitter, you may have it as well <3 it's also on ao3

summary: Kuroo Tetsurou is good to everyone but himself and Yaku Morisuke learns how to listen.

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the boy who cared

The first misconception about Kuroo is one that Yaku makes right away when they first stumble into each other at the volleyball club: Kuroo Tetsurou is very tall. Of course it's not a misconception on a physical level. There are others that are taller, but Kuroo is still tall, just maybe not very tall.

Mainly, it's something else. Something in the way he stands, hands on his hips and shoulders pulled back. Something in the way he looks at Yaku with that frustrated, angry pout, something in the way he speaks, loud and snarling... Kuroo Tetsurou is very tall. He has that kind of presence. It would take Yaku some time to see that presence falter.

The second misconception about Kuroo, which Yaku makes immediately after, is that Kuroo Tetsurou is a jerk, and a huge one at that. This time it's not about the way he speaks, it's about what he says. His petty words, clearly showing how upset he still is about the game in middle school (jeez, wasn't that years and years ago?, but Yaku soon learns that Kuroo has a habit for clinging to the past), his snarky remarks to whatever Yaku himself says, as if not having the last word would make him less of... something. Yaku catches himself wondering whether Kuroo is actually afraid of being less, having yet to learn that it's rather a fear of not being enough – an insecurity that hardens his features and sharpens his tongue.

Then there's a third misconception. In retrospect it might've even been the severest of them all, because it prevents Yaku from looking a little closer, from asking Kuroo if he's okay. Yaku makes it right after they declare their goal for the volleyball club; the second he sees the ambition in Kuroo's eyes, hears the determination in his voice, notices the pride in his posture. It sparks jealousy in his chest, just a little. Kuroo Tetsurou has his life together. There's evidence for this everywhere; in the way Kuroo walks, speaks, smirks, in the way he confidently raises his arm in class and hands in his exam papers after he's done filling them out, in the way he enters a room and draws all the attention.

But then there's also a lot more in between the lines, things that Yaku doesn't notice, because subtlety is not exactly his cup of tea. Things that go completely over his head (Kuroo would laugh at that), until he catches Kuroo crying in the locker room all by himself and it's impossible to not see it: Kuroo Tetsurou doesn't have shit together.

Yaku remembers his shivery breaths, broken sobs and how the sarcastic comments suddenly seem like a very vivid dream, because in no world is this the same person... right? In no world is this boy Kuroo, can't be! Kuroo's hands don't tremble and Kuroo's shoulders don't slump and Kuroo's eyes aren't full of panic, right?

That day, Yaku learns how to reconsider, because there might be confidence and sarcasm and cockyness, but there's also something underneath. Something that Kuroo doesn't show, because not only is he afraid of not being enough but also of being too much. Not that he told him that, but it's kind of obvious, given that Yaku has never seen Kuroo so disheveled, so desperate and small, and his heart breaks in a way he never knew it could.

The worst part about it isn't even what he sees when entering the locker room; the worst part is that Kuroo immediately tries to hide it. Yaku watches as his hand hastily wipes away the tears and his back straightens, hears the soft, quivering "Oh" escaping his lips, almost an apology, as if Kuroo sees himself as an inconvenience. It makes Yaku angry, but he pulls himself together and asks "Are you okay?" instead.

"Yeah, I'm fine." His eyes shift away, trying to avoid confrontation and it's weird, because Kuroo doesn't usually avoid confrontation. But this, Yaku realizes then and there, is a different side of Kuroo. One that is scared, one that is vulnerable, and one that is definitely not okay.

"Don't lie to me. What's wrong?" Yaku can feel Kuroo wincing when he sits down next to him and for a brief second he wonders who might've given Kuroo the impression that not being okay is something to be ashamed of.

"It's nothing."

Kuroo is ashamed, Yaku can see it in the blush covering his neck and the way he averts his gaze. Whether he's ashamed for not being okay in front of someone else, or for not being okay in front of him – in front of Yaku of all people – can't be told for sure, but Yaku is 99% certain that Kuroo would be just as ashamed in front of anyone else. Because a very fundamental truth he just learned about Kuroo Tetsurou is that he feels like a burden. It's nothing. That's something people say when they don't think of their struggles as important. When they don't see their own doubts and fears as worth the time, when they feel like talking about whatever eats them up from the inside would be nothing but exhausting and annoying for the person listening. He has no idea whether that's already a form of imposter syndrome, but it has to be some kind of malfunction if Kuroo Tetsurou, of all people, thinks of himself as a burden, right?

They're not really friends yet (they co-exist and it's fine, it's alright, but every now and then Kuroo cracks a joke that makes Yaku think that maybe there could be more), but Yaku has seen Kuroo with the idiots from 1-C who had thought they could make a few mean comments about Kai. He has gotten an impression of how Kuroo treats people he has no respect for and thanks to that, he knows for sure that he himself is not one of those people. And Yaku would rather bite off his tongue than say it out loud, but having respect for people one doesn't necessarily like is something he can respect in return. That's a character trait he can get behind, which doesn't mean Kuroo's not a jerk. Three weeks of sitting next to him in biology class may have shown Yaku that he's a perfectly decent person and he reluctantly admits in front of strangers that Kuroo is fine. But the jerk thing stands, if only out of spite. Still, there's something about him.

Respect. Decency. Kindness. Yaku is aware that he can be a little stuck in his opinions, but he's not blind. He sees the ease in Kuroo's smiles, and an ease like that doesn't come to people who don't really mean it. There is no lie in his helping hands, no lie in his soothing words, and this honesty shines through in the way he views his own place in all of this. Kuroo Tetsurou is kind to everyone but himself in the sense that he acknowledges everyone else's struggles as important and valid while dismissing his own as "nothing". It's not a lie if you really think you're less of something, less of a person maybe, or less of a person worth helping at the very least, but definitely not enough to be treated with the same kindness you treat everyone else with.

Yaku remembers himself in the very same locker room (and on the very same bench actually, ain't life just one big coincidence), all beaten up over a practice match they lost big time, and the softness in Kuroo's voice, telling him that he did good. You don't do that for a person you barely even know – let alone like – if not just because you're kind.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me."

"You don't have to deal with it."

The thought that maybe Yaku actually wants to deal with it instead of feeling obligated to do so doesn't even seem to occur to Kuroo and it makes Yaku sad to think of how lonely a person must feel to go through life with such a mindset.

"But I'd love to. Try me."

There's a look of surprise on Kuroo's face when his reddened eyes meet Yaku's, the look of someone who genuinely doesn't think that anyone cares. How can he think such a thing when he's always there for others? Even if he doesn't think he's worth the attention, how can he expect nothing in return? Yaku's certain that he would expect something in return, if it was him in that position. That's probably why Kai goes to Kuroo for talking and to Yaku for listening, because Yaku talks a little too much, needing a space to let go of all his overwhelming emotions, and Kuroo talks too little, if at all, needing somebody else's problems in order to properly disregard his own.

Yaku almost laughs out loud at this thought. A stranger would probably be very confused, if he said that Kuroo talks too little, and they wouldn't even be wrong, considering how Kuroo never shuts up. Not so long ago Yaku himself would've been the same, but he had enough chances to observe Kuroo in their time together.

The thing about Kuroo is the following: he blabbers. All words, no content. Yaku notices that very early on, when he still actively looks for reasons to dislike Kuroo, but he shrugs it off. First as genuine idiocy (the pretentious kind of booksmart, he thinks, knows a lot about chemistry and being a nuisance and that's it), then – when he has to admit to himself that Kuroo is actually neither pretentious nor just booksmart – he shrugs it off as a way to fool his opponents and lead them astray, making them think he's not a threat. It takes Yaku some time to realize that this, while a pleasant side effect which definitely pays off for the team, is not Kuroo's goal.

Kuroo is observant, someone who keeps an eye on people and someone who listens. Someone who cares. If you care for others, there inevitably comes a point where they want to return the favor - "Yeah, I'm okay. How about you?" and then you're forced to talk about it, whatever that might be. Of course you could just say "Me too", but in Kuroo's case that would be a lie and Kuroo is a shitty liar. So his solution is to talk about literally everything else. Thinking about it, Yaku realizes that he has done it before, when it seemed like doubts and fears were about to kick in, until Kai asked if everything was okay - "I'm just a little nervous about exams. Have you studied English yet? I wanted to, but then my grandma had this thing-" and at that point Yaku has always switched off his brain, but looking back on it, there's a pattern. A tactic.

Unfortunately, blabbering can't save Kuroo when he's crying in the locker room with Yaku blocking the exit.

Maybe it's that feeling of being trapped that gets Kuroo to break. Or maybe the overall pressure that has been piling up is too strong. Maybe it's something about Yaku himself, or maybe it's the sudden realization that apparently, thankfully, finally someone cares. Either way, Kuroo talks. Well, first he cries some more, then he talks, and it's not even the first time Yaku hears him talk in general, but it's weirdly special anyway. It's the first time he hears Kuroo talk about himself. No fondness talk about Kenma, accompanied by a soft smile, no reassurance talk after someone messed up at practice, no cheer up talk when someone's having a bad day. It's honesty talk, pain talk if you will, because what Yaku learns about Kuroo while listening is already painful enough without keeping in mind that this is the kid who cares for everyone but himself.

Yaku learns that Kenma is a great friend, but not a person Kuroo wants to burden with his problems. (He even says it out loud. Burden. There's a sting in Yaku's chest.) He learns that Kuroo's dad is a good but distant guy, a man of much "Sorry dear, I'm tired" and even more "Can we talk about this later, Tetsurou?". He learns that Kuroo's grandmother is full of love, but also full of unfulfilled dreams and who better to project those on than a gifted child, right? He learns that the only real memory Kuroo has of his grandfather is one of white blankets and beeping machines. No voice, no face, no hands to remember the touch of. He learns that there's already talk about what a great captain that first year with the messy hair will make some day and it's pure pressure. It's something that has no right to be there just yet.

Kuroo talks a lot that night and it should be overwhelming – they're not even friends goddammit –, but Yaku finds that he doesn't really mind. He knows how hard it can be to open up to people and to be the one Kuroo Tetsurou, the nice kid, the teacher's pet, the guy who's got everything in check, opens up to is almost an honor.

"Sorry," Kuroo mutters after his tears dry out and his word stream dies down, averting his eyes as if there's something to feel bad about, but Yaku cuts him right off before he can apologize more.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've found you bawling your eyes out after practice sooner." It's supposed to be funny, but Kuroo doesn't laugh. Yaku lets out a sigh. He's tired, a little exhausted and sad even, but mainly he's angry. Angry at everyone who gave Kuroo the impression that he had to deal with all of this by himself. No one should be lonely at age 15. "And I'm sorry people made you feel like you don't deserve to be heard."

Yaku remembers that night like it was yesterday. He remembers how he saw the disbelief on Kuroo's face and thought that they had a long way to go. He remembers how they came to school the next day and were friends without ever having to talk about it, because some things can't happen without consequences, and who's he to complain? Consequences don't always have to be bad after all. And yes, it takes time to unlearn toxic behavior and harmful mindsets, but it's okay, because they're 15 years old and have all the time in the world. They're 15 years old and already know that this is good. This is gonna last.

And if you'd ask Yaku now (which Kuroo does, almost ten years later on their wedding day) if he would've done anything differently looking back on the whole thing, his only answer would be that he would've looked a little closer a little sooner.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic #kuroyaku #kuroo tetsurou #yaku morisuke #character study #hurt/comfort #h/c #kuroo needs a hug #so bad #give him a hug #rey writes

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satori-the-miracle-boy · 11 months

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I need some haikyuu angst fics not relationship angst but team angst I wanna read about Hinata's time alone in Brazil I wanna read about Nekoma's inner dialogues when Yaku gets hurt I wanna read Aoba Josai's pain when they lose and couldn't go to the nationals I wanna read Shiratorizawa's feelings when they were so certain that they will go to the nationals and then they couldn't I wanna read aftermath of Daichi getting hurt I wanna read Hinata withdrawing from match I wanna read what happened after Karasuno defeated by Dateko I wanna read some team angst so if you have any fics like that please send it to me I'm hungry for some angst

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu!! fics #angst #angst fic #haikyuu!! angst fic

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macbetha · 1 year

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“My dignity has become a stranger, Prince Miya,” Kiyoomi says. “Someone I wouldn’t know walking by on the street. Someone so repulsive to me, that when they rebuke the affection I hold for you, I might just draw my sword.”

i’ve come to burn your kingdom down (wip/unreleased) by macbetha

#skts #sakutasu #haikyuu!! fic #hq fic #fic #fanfiction #sakusa kiyoomi #Miya Atsumu #me #mine #wip #preview #sakuatsu

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czenzo · 2 years

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nobody loves you like I do

[ao3]

summary: Oh, God. He likes Tsukishima Kei.

Navigating having a crush on someone is already hard enough. Navigating having a crush on your best friend of many years, however, is considerably harder. Tadashi Yamaguchi is struggling, to say the least.

A collection of moments in which Yamaguchi has to deal with his complicated feelings toward Tsukishima.

words: 5617 rating: G

note: title from ‘Nobody Loves You - Similar Kind’

It was after the start of the second half of their game against Nekoma when things quickly began to go downhill for the Karasuno boys’ team. Up until then, things had been going fairly well, in Tadashi’s opinion. Karasuno’s team still had some kinks to work out, of course, but their teamwork was mostly up to par, with Hinata and Kageyama working efficiently as a duo, Tsukishima blocking with the precision he always has, Daichi being the smooth, confident captain he always is, and Sugawara enthusiastically cheering them all on from the sidelines. Things were looking good. That was until, seemingly out of nowhere, Nekoma gained a sudden burst of energy as soon as the second half commenced and then proceeded to obliterate Karasuno with worrying ease—Tadashi can't help but wonder, had his team let their confidence get the better of them, and let their guards down? Had the opposition been planning this all along, to lull them into a false sense of security before securing their win in the last half? Tadashi isn’t quite sure how they had pulled it off, but one thing he knows for certain is that the loss now hangs heavy over the members of Karasuno. Afterwards, as the court is being cleared up and the spectators disperse, Hinata and Kageyama hang around one another in mutual silence, their usual energy nowhere to be seen. Not far from them, Daichi and Sugawara are animatedly discussing the match with Coach and Takeda, likely going over what went wrong and how they can improve for their next game. The rest of the team are doing their own thing, slowly trying to cheer themselves up with the same, well-practised methods they’ve all picked up over their many past defeats. Without even realising it, Tadashi drifts over to the main exit where Tsukishima stands leaning against the wall, fiddling on his phone as a way to distract himself from the goings-on around him. His sports glasses are hanging off of one wrist, and the small locks of hair that usually lightly brush against his forehead are now clinging to his skin, damp with sweat. “Tsukki!” Tadashi beams, cranking up his cheeriness levels as far as they will go and pushing down any and all thoughts about his team's loss. “Yamaguchi,” is Tsukishima’s simple reply as he continues tapping and scrolling on his phone screen. Tadashi half-wonders if he’s doing anything meaningful on it, or merely trying to keep himself occupied. “Shame we lost, eh, Tsukki?” Tsukishima nods, slowly. “I bet we’ll do better next time, though,” he says, maintaining his grin. It's slowly becoming unclear to him whether he’s trying to cheer up Tsukishima, or himself. “There’s no need to put on a pretence, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says bluntly, seeing right through him. He looks up from his phone, and Tadashi feels his grin fade as Tsukki’s eyes lock with his. “We lost. It’s fine.” “Right,” Tadashi says after a short pause. “We lost.” “We lost.” Tsukishima shrugs. “And it’s fine.” “Exactly.” Tsukki glances at his phone one more time before switching off the screen and sliding it into the pocket of his shorts. Tadashi feels his shoulders deflate. “We were doing so well, too.” “C’est la vie, or however the saying goes,” Tsukishima says, and Tadashi feels his smile returning—Tsukki knows full well he said the phrase correctly, Tadashi knows that much, but it seems he’s trying to appear unconcerned and casual for his sake. “Yeah. C’est la vie,” Tadashi repeats. He's painfully aware of how he somehow managed to butcher the pronunciation. Tsukishima coolly folds his arms across his chest; he’s still leaning to the side, one shoulder propped up against the wall, and Tadashi wonders if his friend was being a bit hypocritical when he scolded him for putting on an act. The defeat must be eating Tsukki from the inside, he just knows it—it's probably gnawing at his mind and demanding attention, but Tsukishima appears to be ignoring it (or at least, trying his best to). A small voice in the back of Tadashi's mind dares to wonder if he's pretending for Tadashi’s sake. Though he quickly shakes the thought off; it's so ridiculous he doesn't allow himself more than a second to ponder it. “You were great at blocking today,” he says, nudging Tsukki’s arm with a meek smile. “I clearly wasn’t,” Tsukishima scoffs. “We lost.” “Yeah but,” he shrugs. “It was still good blocking.” Tsukishima is quiet for a moment, before eventually murmuring a quiet, “Thanks.” He’s no longer looking at Tadashi, clearly having found something much more interesting on the floor. “You weren’t so bad yourself.” Tadashi feels his grin increase tenfold in intensity. He’s beaming brighter than the sun, and it’s taking every bit of his willpower to stop himself from bouncing off of the walls. Tsukishima seems bashful, somehow—it’s not like him at all, but for now, Tadashi is too overcome by his joy to ponder what it means, and how that makes him feel. It’s later that night as he lies in bed, willing sleep to wash over him, that Tadashi thinks about it with a clearer mind, and isn’t sure how he feels about the revelation that hits him. Oh, God. He likes Tsukishima Kei.

—◦—

It’s a bright, sunny day, unusually warm for this time of year, and Tadashi’s opened his bedroom window as far as it will go. He’s sat on his desk chair, absentmindedly spinning in lazy circles with his head tipped back and eyes half shut. Not far from him, Tsukki sits on Tadashi’s bed, back against the wall and laptop on his long legs that stick out over the edge of the comforter. He’s tapping away at the keyboard, finishing an assignment that Tadashi himself had completed with minimal effort the other day. “So warm…” he mumbles to himself, for the fiftieth time that day. “How’s the homework going, Tsukki?” “Alright,” is his friend’s response—the same response he gave the last five times Tadashi had asked him. Tadashi nods and contentedly hums, then wonders if there are any leftover ice pops in the freezer. His shirt is beginning to cling to his skin uncomfortably, and Tsukishima must be suffering in the same way, because he keeps pausing from typing to fan his collar. It takes all of Tadashi's willpower not to let his gaze drift over to him whenever he does it. Tsukishima's collarbones become visible whenever he pulls away the collar of his t-shirt, and there's just something about them that sends Tadashi's brain cells haywire. Time ambles by, and to occupy himself (and distract him from a certain boy doing schoolwork on his bed), Tadashi finds himself half-heartedly scrolling on his phone. He inwardly reassures himself that once Tsukki’s done with his assignment they’ll get to head out somewhere instead of staying holed up in Tadashi’s room, and he can breathe in the fresh air and revel in the beauty of nature in the beginnings of summer instead of ogling his friend's anatomy. Until Tsukishima's done, though, they're stuck. “How’s it going?” Tadashi asks again, then waits for the usual response to come, but it never does. He frowns and looks up from the volleyball article he’d been reading on his phone. Tsukki’s still on his bed, laptop resting on his long, long legs, but his fingers are no longer clacking away at the keys, and his eyes have drifted shut. His head hangs slightly to the side, not far off resting on one of his shoulders, and his lips are parted ever so slightly. His breaths come slow and soft, and it’s clear he’s been asleep for some time. “Oh,” is Tadashi’s short response, because he’s too stunned to be more articulate. Tsukishima rarely ever looks this peaceful. He resists the urge to take a picture. Quietly, he slides off his chair, tip-toes across the room, then gently closes Tsukki’s laptop and carefully moves it from his lap. The casing’s uncomfortably warm. He places it on his desk. Tsukishima’s chest softly rises and falls. His hands are sat in his lap, fingers barely touching, frozen in a way that says he was still trying to type whilst fighting off sleep, but eventually gave in. His glasses are crooked on his face, and, holding his breath, Tadashi slowly reaches out and carefully pries them from behind his ears, before folding them and placing them beside Tsukki’s laptop. He is the picture of peace and contentment, and Tadashi can’t help but stare. People shouldn’t stare at their friends in such a way, he knows that, he's repeated it to himself over and over, but he does nothing to try and avert his gaze. Tsukki likely wouldn’t be pleased if he found out about how he admired him in his sleeping state, but Tsukki’s asleep, so he won’t ever know anyway. It's merely a bit of staring, Tadashi tells himself. What's the harm? He continues to drink in the sight in front of him, letting his eyes roam the length of his sleeping friend and taking note of every little detail. Tadashi feels his face become warm and tries to ignore the heavy feeling of guilt that forms in his stomach along with it.

—◦—

Sharp spikes of pain shoot up Tadashi’s leg as he curls in on himself and clutches his ankle; his face is scrunched up tight and he knows he must look completely stupid, but his ankle burns, oh god, it hurts so damn much. Practice had been running as normal that day in Karasuno’s gym, with serve and blocking practice, technique refinement—‘all of the usual jazz’, as Sugawara had put it at the start of the session, but barely halfway into their small practice match to wrap it all up, Tadashi misjudged a step and rolled his ankle in such a way that made everyone in the gym simultaneously wince and hiss through their teeth. Immediately, he was on the floor, holding back a cry of pain. Seconds later, through the film of tears that cling to his eyes, he saw Tsukishima by his side. He vaguely wonders how on earth his friend got to him so fast—he was on the opposing team, he was so far away—but another spike of red hot pain shoots up his leg and cuts off his train of thought. “Damn, Yamaguchi, that was a harsh fall,” Nishinoya says, but Tadashi can’t tell where his voice is coming from. Tanaka says something back to him, some witty quip that Tadashi can only dream of being able to think of on the spot, but their playful bickering fades into the background on account of the faint ringing in his ears—he must have hit his head when he dropped to the floor, and if he weren’t so preoccupied at the moment, Tadashi would roll his eyes at the realisation. How stupid, to injure himself over something so simple. “Give him some space,” Tadashi hears Daichi call out, and everyone—aside from Tsukishima—obediently takes a step back. He can feel tears dripping down the sides of his face and pooling on the cold floor; he wants nothing more than to just stand up, to stop embarrassing himself and get back to the game, but he’s sure if he tries to stand his ankle will just buckle in on itself. God, he really can’t believe he managed to injure himself so easily. How humiliating. “Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says, soft and quiet as if trying not to startle him, “can you stand?” Tadashi’s sure he won’t be able to form a coherent sentence if he opens his mouth, so he simply shakes his head instead. “Can I help you up?” Tsukishima says. After a short moment of hesitation, Tadashi nods. Slowly, gently, Tsukishima’s arms snake around and under his torso, his touch feather-light and cautious, and Tadashi can feel his heart pounding in his chest as his friend carefully lifts him up and away from the cold, harsh floor of the gym. Tsukishima takes on most of his weight, and the relief it provides his injured ankle is euphoric. After exchanging a few quick words with Daichi, Tadashi half-limps, half-hops his way out of the gym, leaning heavily against his friend’s side. Tsukishima’s warm; it’s hard to tell if he’s still recovering from practice or if he’s actually struggling with Tadashi’s weight, but he doesn’t let on either way. Tadashi steals a glance up at him. It's clear Tsukishima is trying to keep his face carefully blank, but Tadashi knows him well enough to notice the subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the slight crease in his brow, and the way he’s pointedly avoiding looking at him. He’s concerned. Tadashi’s chest feels light, though he’s hit with a twinge of guilt for making his friend worry. “Thank you, Tsukki,” he eventually says as they near the nurse’s office. Tsukishima half-shrugs with the shoulder not currently taking on most of Tadashi’s weight. “It’s fine,” he says, nonchalant. Tadashi wants to say something else, but before he can open his mouth again, the door to the nurse’s office is in looming front of them. “Here we are,” Tsukishima murmurs, before knocking on and opening the door. Tsukki makes casual conversation with the nurse, clearly used to being in this part of the school on account of his chronic illness. He knows the whole procedure of being sent here like the back of his hand. Tsukishima stays with him as he gets checked up. Tadashi’s pleasantly surprised; he had half-expected him to head straight back to practice after dropping him off. The nurse gives him a thorough once-over, and he hisses and winces and makes a horrible range of embarrassing noises as she turns his ankle this way and that, but Tsukishima never reacts, and not a single mocking remark slips past his lips. Once she’s done, the nurse leaves the room to grab some forms that need to be filled and signed, leaving the two of them alone for a short moment. “Thanks again, Tsukki,” he says. He full-well knows Tsukishima doesn’t like being bombarded by thanks, especially from him, but he’d feel wrong if he didn’t say it at least once more. “It’s fine,” he replies, just like the last time. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Tsukishima pauses for a moment, before adding, “To see if you’re fit enough to continue with practice.” Tadashi simply smiles at him, and Tsukki clearly isn’t pleased with the knowing look he's being given, because he playfully scoffs and looks away. The nurse returns soon after, and Tadashi can’t help but feel disappointed when Tsukishima’s bashfulness fades and he resumes being a responsible, concerned teammate. They finish up with the nurse, who advises him to take a few days off practice, and soon they’re back outside in the hallway, an air of quietness surrounding them. “You should go back to practice,” Tadashi says, “I’ll head home.” Tsukishima immediately shakes his head. “I’ll take you home.” He reaches for Tadashi before pausing and asking for permission with a silent look. Once Tadashi nods, his arm is wrapped back around Tsukki’s shoulders, and his leg is flooded with relief again. “Thank you, Tsukki.” “Stop saying that,” Tsukishima says, looking away. “It’s fine.” Tadashi beams at him.

—◦—

The locker room is never a particularly pleasant place to be; it starts getting uncomfortably hot and stuffy just minutes after you enter, and being surrounded by sweaty, rowdy, hormonal teenage boys is only fun if you’re just as sweaty, rowdy, and hormonal as they are. Which Tadashi is not. (Most of the time.) He likes to stick to the far corner, minding his own business and allowing him a safe distance from the carnage the team creates. Tsukishima always joins him. As the two of them are quietly changing out of their horribly-damp-with-sweat gym clothes and pulling on their refreshingly clean uniform, Tanaka takes to trying to set a tightly scrunched up t-shirt around the locker room. Soon enough, he coaxes the others to join him, and Tadashi hears Tsukishima scoff at their idiocy. Once Hinata and Kageyama realise cotton isn’t a good material for setting and spiking, they begin simply throwing it around and seeing if they can get it to land or stick in ridiculous places. When Nishinoya throws it and makes it land perfectly on the door handle, collar neatly hanging off it as if someone had purposefully placed it there, the group goes wild, cheering and yelling like they’ve just won a life-changing game. Tadashi holds back an amused smile. Tsukishima stays silent, though Tadashi would bet half of his savings that he’s internally mocking their energetic teammates. Tsukishima pulls his shirt off, determined to ignore the chaos unfolding behind them, and out of the corner of his eye Tadashi can see him grimacing at the dampness of his sweat in the material. Tsukki’s never been one for ‘gross’ things—he’s always been clean, tidy, and downright disgusted by things that wouldn’t make other people bat an eye. Germaphobe was the word that came up in Tadashi’s search engine when curiosity got the better of him and he decided to look it up. As he sees Tsukishima reach for his clean, crisp shirt, Tadashi hears Hinata ask for the t-shirt ball (or rather, he hears him grab it from mid-air and cheer when he succeeds), and seconds later the shirt goes flying across the room, soaring straight towards his and Tsukki’s corner, and lands directly on Tsukishima’s head. Tsukishima, along with everyone else in the locker room, goes rigid and silent. Slowly, Tadashi looks over his shoulder towards Hinata, whose face has drained of colour. He drags his gaze back to Tsukishima, who still doesn't have a shirt on. Tsukishima still doesn’t have a shirt on. He’s seen his friend shirtless countless times, what with being on the same sports team, but Tadashi is constantly realising that doesn’t make it any easier to cope with. This is, unfortunately, one of those times of realisation. He’s tall, thin, and full of lean muscle. His skin is pale and smooth—he’s a living, breathing statue; a work of art—and there’s a dusting of fine blond hair that disappears down below his waistband. Tadashi’s face goes hot. It's been doing that a lot, lately. It's irritating. Tsukishima slowly pulls the t-shirt from his head, revealing a purposefully blank look on his face. It’s clear he’s straining to hold in a rude, snarky remark or insult; his jaw is clenched, there’s a slight bulge of a vein in his neck, and he’s looking straight ahead. He slowly, silently reaches out to the side and drops the t-shirt on the floor. No one goes to retrieve it. Tadashi realises he’s still staring at Tsukishima’s midriff, and quickly drags his gaze away. Friends don’t stare like that, he’s told himself time and time again, yet can never seem to change his ways. Silently, he prays that no one else noticed.

—◦—

To: Tsukki Hey, are you gonna be in school today?

From: Tsukki No.

That’s all Tadashi needs to know. For as long as he can remember, Tsukishima’s suffered from flare-ups—for a while, he never really understood what a flare-up entailed, as his friend was oddly secretive about it all and shut down any attempts at prying, but when he finally first allowed Tadashi to visit him, he had revealed a considerable amount. Recurrent Polyserositis. At first, Tadashi had to keep those two words in his phone’s notes app so he could properly remember them, but now there’s no need. Both he and Akiteru have more than enough knowledge on the condition, seeing as they spend more time worrying about Tsukishima than anything else. Not that they’d admit that to him—he would be far from pleased. He forces himself to attend practice after his classes that day; despite every bone in his body itching to leave and see Tsukki, he knows his friend would be irritated he missed out on practice for the sake of visiting him sooner. It doesn’t take long for Daichi and Sugawara, forever the observant parental figures of the team, to pick up on Tadashi’s agitated mood, however. He’s distracted and he knows it, and it’s no surprise to him that the others have noticed. It doesn’t help that this happens every time Tsukishima is absent from practice. Takeda probably keeps a tally of how many times it occurs. “Yamaguchi,” Daichi says, approaching him as the others are finishing up drills that Tadashi started but failed to complete. “Your head doesn’t seem to be in it today.” “Sorry, Daichi,” he says, unsure of what else he can say. He’s always apologising, and no amount of scolding from Tsukishima can seem to stop him. It’s instinct. An exasperating knee-jerk reaction. “Look, we’ve only got”—Daichi glances at the clock on the wall—“fifteen minutes or so left of practice. You can leave now, if you’d like. Tell Tsukishima we wrapped up early today.” “Are you sure?” Daichi nods. “Yeah. Go and see him so you can stop worrying.” He knows the route from school to Tsukishima’s house so well he could do it blindfolded and backwards. By being fuelled by his anxiety and walking at an elevated pace, he’s there in no time. Akiteru answers the door, and it’s clear he’s been expecting Tadashi. The elder Tsukishima greets him with a smile and opens the door wide for him to enter. Together, they go about the usual motions, having done this countless times before—putting together a tray holding a large glass of water, food and snacks Tadashi grabbed from Sakanoshita Market on the way over, and most importantly, a top-up of painkillers. Each time they’ve done this in the past, Tsukishima has received it differently—the first few times were met with varying degrees of hostility and irritation, which gradually became stubborn acceptance, but even now there is still the odd time when the visits agitate him. Tadashi’s learnt how to quickly gauge Tsukishima’s mood, however, so he’s constantly alert and watching out for signs that indicate it would be better to drop off the tray of supplies and leave rather than stay and keep him company. He softly knocks and enters Tsukishima’s room. The air inside is quiet and still. Tsukishima’s facing away from him, nose close to the wall and arms wrapped around his upper body. His head turns ever so slightly at the sound of him entering, but he doesn’t react with anything more. “Hey, Tsukki,” Tadashi says softly, placing the tray on the bedside table along with the sheets of work his friend has missed that day. Tsukishima grunts in lieu of a hello. He reasons that it's alright for him to stay today, and takes a seat at Tsukki’s desk. The times when Tadashi’s been quickly kicked out have been when Tsukishima’s symptoms are at their worst, so the fact he’s able to stay calms his anxieties. “Practice finished early today,” Tadashi says, filling the silence. “It’s never the same without you there.” There’s a stretch of quiet, until eventually Tsukki slowly rolls over to face him. His cheek is squashed against his pillow, and Tadashi can’t help but notice the prominent bags under his eyes. It’s impossible to tell whether it’s the pain or his medication that’s been stopping him from sleeping. “I brought you some snacks.” Tadashi nods to the tray. Along with the water and painkillers sits a small bowl of soup—mushroom, Tsukki’s favourite—a few small strawberry-flavoured sweets, a collection of savoury snacks… he and Tsukishima’s brother had gathered a variety of flavours together in the hopes that Tsukishima would eat at least one thing. Just something, anything. Tsukki once told him that his lymph nodes would swell, sometimes. It made talking, swallowing, and even moving downright uncomfortable. Clearly, though, his hunger trumps his pain today, because Tsukki reaches out for the strawberry cake pop on the tray and gingerly nibbles at it. Tadashi settles into his usual routine of filling the air with mindless babbling; attempts at distracting Tsukishima from his pain consist of complaining about the horrible assignment he was given in second period, talking about the colourful bird he spotted on the way here from school, and how a girl in fourth period was loudly talking about a cool bookstore she’d visited over the weekend, and hey, we should visit that together sometime, eh, Tsukki? Tsukishima’s quiet the whole time. While he’s wondering aloud how he’s going to tackle that second period assignment, he notices Tsukki digging his nails into his comforter. Tadashi knows full well that if he wasn’t sat in the room just now, the comforter would have been pushed out of the way, and Tsukishima would be digging his nails directly into the skin of his leg until it breaks and bleeds. He’s seen the small, moon-shaped scars on his thighs; they’re visible whenever his gym shorts hitch up too high. Muscle inflammation. Another symptom Tsukki once told him about, albeit reluctantly. It sends shooting pains through his thighs and calves, rendering walking painful and difficult—the reason Tsukishima’s been quietly lying in bed while he rambles on and on. The nails, Tadashi assumes, are an attempt at distracting himself from it. Tadashi doesn’t comment on it or acknowledge it at all. It’s not his business, despite how much it bothers him. He hasn’t got the power to beg him to stop. Akiteru might—but it’s a question of whether he has the guts to, he finds himself bitterly thinking. Eventually, as Tadashi meanders into the next topic of the one-sided conversation, the pressure Tsukki’s fingernails are exerting on the comforter eases off. His hands relax. They both pretend nothing happened. An hour or so passes just like that—Tadashi talking, Tsukki half listening, half silently battling with the pain in his legs, head, and throat—until eventually, he senses it’s time to go. He scoops up his school bag and quietly bids Tsukishima goodbye, with a silent promise to visit him again tomorrow if he’s still feeling bad. As he’s reaching for the door, he hears Tsukishima’s voice, soft and raspy, only just audible. “Thank you, Yamaguchi.” Tadashi smiles all the way home.

—◦—

Tadashi’s ‘forgotten’ to take his meds for a while now. They had been messing with his sleep, making him drowsy and light-headed during the day, along with a slew of other horrid side effects, and eventually, he decided he’d much rather put up with his anxiety than continue taking that stupid clonazepam he’d been prescribed. He hasn't told Tsukki, though. He’d get scolded to no end. Though Tsukki’s a hypocrite, because he seldom takes his own meds as prescribed because his mess with him too. Much to his dismay, his lack of a medicated state means that when a thunderstorm hits while they’re in volleyball practice that day, Tadashi’s jumpy and struggles to focus. The rain lashes against the roof as he serves, thunder rumbles while Tsukki jumps up to block a spike, and when the flashes of lightning begin as Tadashi is carrying a handful of balls back to the basket, he fumbles and drops them all, sending them rolling in different directions across the court. He sighs irritably and drags himself after them to gather them all up once again. Luckily, by the time they’ve cleared up the court and changed back into their uniforms, the storm has settled. The thunder has almost completely subsided, and all that’s left is a heavy drizzle. Tadashi is relieved, to say the least. Out of him and Tsukishima, neither of them had thought to bring an umbrella that day, so after they’ve waved goodbye to the rest of their team they set off in a light sprint home, jackets held high above their heads in a poor attempt to shield themselves from the onslaught of rain. By the time they reach Tsukishima’s house, they are both thoroughly soaked to the bone. Tadashi’s teeth are chattering, clacking together and making a sound that makes Tsukishima grimace. After watching his friend escape into the warm shelter of his home, Tadashi slowly turns, wincing at the thought of the walk back home. Before he can take a step, however, Tsukishima calls out: “Come inside, Yamaguchi. Wait for the rain to stop.” He doesn’t have to tell Tadashi twice. Tsukishima turns on the light in the hallway and dims its brightness. The house is quiet—his brother and mother must be elsewhere—as they toe off their shoes and pull faces at the puddles of water that have formed in them. Tsukishima pulls at the hem of his shirt; it peels away from his skin and clings back to it when he lets go. Tadashi, once again, stares at it longer than he knows he should. “We should change,” Tsukki murmurs, peeling his shirt from his abdomen again and frowning at the unpleasant feeling. They leave a trail of water droplets on the floor behind them as they head up to Tsukishima’s room together. Tadashi lingers near the door once they’re there. Most of the times he’s been in here have been when Tsukishima isn’t doing well; the rest of the time they hang out outside of school is usually spent in Tadashi’s room. It’s odd to see the curtains wide open, the bed neatly made (and without Tsukki in it), and no piles of empty painkiller packets on the bedside table. Tsukishima quickly retrieves clothes for the two of them to change into, and all qualms around changing in front of one another are thrown out of the window in their desperation to be rid of their current soggy outfits, which are tossed in a pile in the corner to be later taken downstairs to dry. Tadashi’s first thought is that Tsukki’s clothes are fairly big on him. The t-shirt he was given is long, bordering on being a short dress, and the waistband of Tsukki’s joggers is ever so slightly too baggy. His second thought is that the clothes smell of his friend. He's enveloped by the scent, almost as if he's being hugged. It's overwhelming yet comforting, and as he's taking it all in, he catches Tsukishima looking at him, and their eyes lock together. “Thanks for the clothes, Tsukki,” Tadashi says with a light, perhaps awkward, laugh. Tsukishima is quiet for a short moment. “It’s no problem.” They stand in silence for what feels like years. It’s eventually broken off by Tsukki stooping to grab the pile of wet clothes, but in a moment of recklessness, Tadashi reaches out to gently grab his arm. “Tsukki,” he says, and Tsukishima slowly looks up at him. Their eyes lock again. Tadashi’s face feels warm as he dares to steal a glance at his friend’s lips. His cheeks burn when he sees Tsukishima do the same. He surprises himself when he pulls Tsukki towards him—it’s gentle, hesitant, allowing Tsukishima to pull away if he wants to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t. Tsukki moves closer to him, and their lips brush together. It’s Tadashi’s first kiss. In the back of his mind, he wonders if it’s Tsukishima’s, too. He’s not even sure how to kiss someone; his movements are slow and unsure, awkward and clunky, but Tsukishima receives them with apparent delight, if the fervour of the kiss is anything to go by. His chest feels light, his mind is spinning and his heart is pounding in his chest, and oh my god, I’m kissing Tsukishima Kei—it’s everything Tadashi has dreamed about and more. They pull away from one another sooner than Tadashi would like. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he looks Tsukishima in the eye, and wonders if his friend—friend?—is regretting reciprocating the kiss, but all of his worries wash away when Tsukishima leans back in and presses their lips together once more. It’s a shorter, more chaste kiss, but it makes Tadashi’s heart soar. “We need to dry our clothes,” Tsukki murmurs against his lips, having pulled back just enough to speak. Tadashi nods, and slowly, they lean back, and he drinks in the sight of Tsukishima’s red, slightly swollen lips. For once, he feels like he’s allowed to stare. Tsukishima eventually breaks the tense atmosphere by stooping to grab the wet clothes once again, and Tadashi resists the urge to grab his arm and pull him back in like he did the first time. Together, they plod downstairs, feeling dazed yet refreshed, and once Tsukki’s thrown the clothes into the dryer, he turns to Tadashi and leans back against the countertop. Tadashi soon gets the impression that he’s waiting for him to speak first. “Did you mean to kiss me back?” he says eventually, voice full of uncertainty. His anxieties come flooding back, and he dreads the response, knowing their years-long friendship hangs in the balance. Regret sits dark and heavy in his stomach. If Tsukishima doesn’t say something soon, he may damn well start dry heaving. “No, I was completely unaware of what I was doing.” “Oh.” “I’m kidding, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima huffs amusedly, and relief doesn’t even begin to describe the flood of emotions that hits Tadashi. “Of course I meant to.” “Oh,” he says, dumbfounded. There’s another question on his lips, but as he’s thinking about how to word it, Tsukishima moves forward and pulls him in for another kiss. It’s long and slow, and it feels like an answer to the question Tadashi didn’t even get to ask. Later on, as they’re relaxing in Tsukki’s room—rain and storm long gone, but Tadashi can’t bring himself to leave—he asks it anyway, just to be sure. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend,” Tsukishima replies with an eye roll, as if to say the answer should be obvious. Fireworks explode in Tadashi’s brain. Boyfriend.

—◦—

Tadashi’s much more used to spending time at the Tsukishima household when Tsukki isn’t feeling ill, now. In fact, they hang out there just as often as they do at Tadashi’s. They’re lay side by side in bed, kissing one another like it’s second nature—it feels so good, to be able to just swoop in and kiss Tsukishima Kei, his boyfriend, whenever he feels like it—and Tadashi feels his hands roaming before his brain can fully register the movement. They drift down Tsukishima’s back, pulling his body in close, and he can feel Tsukki’s ribcage pressed close against his (he wants nothing more than for them to intertwine), their heartbeats pounding against one another's chests (they’re almost in perfect sync, it sends Tadashi’s mind haywire), their legs tangling together and lips tightly locking—it’s incredible, it’s euphoric, and Tadashi never wants it to end. “Tsukki,” he whispers, pulling him closer. “Kei,” is Tsukishima’s simple reply. “Call me Kei.” “Kei,” Tadashi murmurs, reaching up and tangling his fingers into short blond locks of hair. “Tadashi,” Kei replies, and the rest of the world melts away. Nothing is left but him and Tsukishima Kei.

#tsukiyama #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #gift fic #czenzo.fic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic

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clairvoyant-crow · 2 years

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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi Summary:

Besides, it’s not like he’s attracted to him or anything. Ok, well. He’s attracted to Miya on a physical level. Any person into men would be. But on any level other than physical? No. Fucking. Way. Definitely not emotionally—the man is completely incompatible with Kiyoomi with his rude, cocky, arrogant approach to volleyball, to life, to everything. Miya is, quite frankly, an asshole. Sure, Kiyoomi is too, but it’s in more of a “please get away from me” way, not a “look at me, I’m better than you” way. So yeah, he’s not attracted to Miya. Nope. No way.

I’d love it if you checked out my latest fic!! It was super fun to write and I hope it’s a great read too (It is to me. I’ve read it).

#sakuatsu #sakuatsu fic #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #skts #haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu #hq #atsumu x kiyoomi #fic rec #i write things #sakuatsu fanfic

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malepresentingleg · 2 years

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new chapter dropped

Chapters: 4/5 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, more to be added mayhaps Characters: Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, some of the Schweiden Adlers, Schweiden Adlers, Hoshiumi Kourai, Sokolov Tatsuto, Hinata Natsu Additional Tags: Post-Haikyuu!! Time Skip, Post-Time Skip, or like during the time skip, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, but like the beginning is also mega fluffy, baiscally the majority of the fic is fluff i swear, Brazil, Brazil Fling (Haikyuu!!), but is it? (no), Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Beach Volleyball, Soft boys being soft, no but for real they are SOFT, Trans Hinata Shouyou, just bc i said so and why the hell not, supportive boyfriends, They're so in love it hurts, author doesn't know when to stop tagging, but still leaves some tags out bc of spoilers reasons, (there's no cheating tho i swear!!!!), this just sounds dramatic but it's basically them being softies and cuties, no beta we die like the queen (soon), Implied Sexual Content, Clubbing, Dancing, Break Up, Getting Back Together, Volleyball, locker room talk (dumbassery), locker room talk (respectful), Secret Relationship Summary:

Hinata has a year to prepare for Brazil and Kageyama has a year to prepare for the super long distance with a little long distance, with him off in Tokyo and Hinata still in Miyagi. They're getting used to this new them and trying to use every moment they can find together. If there's one thing they're good at it's practice, right?

#kagehina #kagehina fic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! fic #kagehina fanfic #kageyama x hinata #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #fluff and angst #my fic #my writing #new chapter #hq #hq!!#hq!! fanfic #hq manga spoilers

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adrunkskeletonsduck · 2 years

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Hᴏʀʀᴏʀ Mᴏᴠɪᴇ Mᴀʀᴀᴛʜᴏɴ | Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ 2022 Eᴠᴇɴᴛ Dᴀʏ 2

➜ Pairing: Suna Rinatuaro x reader

➜ Warnings: Gn!reader, mentions of screams, cursing

➜ Word Count: 0.5k

➜ Notes: None

Hᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ!! Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | Eᴠᴇɴᴛ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

You jumped for the hundredth time that night, burying your head into Suna’s chest and doing your best to block out the sounds coming from the TV. You hated horror movies, like absolutely hated them, so you weren't sure how Suna had convinced you to sit down with him that night for a horror movie marathon, not even just one, but a whole freaking marathon. You also didn’t understand why he would want to with you, of all people, because he also knew how much you hate horror movies.

You couldn’t understand how people could sit through these things. Let alone sleep at night after watching them, you for one were sure you weren't going to be getting any sleep that night.

You heard Suna chuckle from above you again at your reaction to another terrible jump scare, “You could have just said that you didn’t like horror movies you know.” Your head snapped up to look at him in disbelief and your eyes narrowed at him as he grinned down at you. You didn’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you. You couldn’t believe this man.

“I did, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer, remember?” you quipped back at him, and then jumped as a shrill shriek came from the TV. He laughed reaching for the remote to turn the movie off,

“Here, we can stop at this one. I don’t think you can take much more,” Suna teased.

The tv turned off, plummeting the room into darkness just in time to conceal the eye roll you gave him. Although you were thankful that he had turned the movie off, you were now sitting in complete darkness after he just scared the shit out of you in with two and a half horror movies

“Suna,” you whispered, your body tensing against his. You heard him shift in response, moving away from you, and causing you to lose the sense of security being close to him brought you. You could barely make him out in the dark as he got up and walked towards what you assumed was the light switch. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, waiting for the familiar sound of the light switch being flicked on and light behind your eyelids, that would surely get rid of the small pit of fear forming in your stomach. Neither of them came and you were about to tell him to hurry up when you heard his voice next to your ear.

“Boo.” Your eyes shot open with a shriek and you turned to hit him, your hand landing on his arm firmly and with a loud smack while he stood laughing behind you.

“Ow,” Suna whined behind you in between laughs, rubbing his forearm where you had hit him. He turned, reaching to his left and flicking on the lights

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting, “You’re an asshole.” He just laughed again at your words, and leaned down to kiss you. You turned your head, however, dodging his kiss which made him whine in protest.

“Oh common it was just a harmless joke!” you grumbled at his words, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at him. He caught it with ease.

“Harmless joke my ass. You're sleeping on the couch tonight.”

#suna rintarou #suna rintarou imagines #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro #suna rintaro drabbles #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x y/n #x reader #suna fic #suna rinaturo fic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic #haikyu x reader #suna x you #halloween fic #halloween event #halloween drabbles #fluff

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dakato · 5 months

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fuck me. er, this.

☼tsukihina

☼rated t

☼2.7k

☼canon compliant

🔗archiveofourown.org/works/51466549

For TsukiHinaFest2023 on the bird app

#haikyuu!!#hinata shouyou #tsukishima kei #fanfic #tsukihina #haikyū!!#haikyuu!! fic #ao3fic

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majoringinsarcasm · 4 months

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DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.

SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST

#reject modern fast fashion fandom culture #comment on shit from 2012 to scare and or delight the author #anytime I see ppl reading my haikyuu fics I wanna cry with happiness #being reminded of fics and then looking and realizing I still love them is a true gift #COMMUNITY BITCHES THIS IS WHAT THAT IS

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clubkira · 6 months

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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“after every fight, just apologize.”

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”

Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.

“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”

The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.

“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”

“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”

“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You groan, “Exactly.”

Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”

“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”

“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”

You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.

“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”

RINTAROU SUNA.

“make time for her.”

“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”

Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”

“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.

Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”

The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”

Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your fiancée.”

Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”

One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”

“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”

Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”

“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”

“Why did you lick my hand?”

“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”

He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”

Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”

Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Shut up, Rinnie.”

“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”

You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”

The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”

“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”

He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”

“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”

“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”

“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”

Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.

“I just, really like to spend time with you.”

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

“treat her like a lady.”

“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”

The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.

Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.

“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”

You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.

“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”

The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.

“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.

Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.

You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.

“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.

You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.

“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.

“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.

“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”

Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”

You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”

His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”

“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”

His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”

“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”

“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”

The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”

Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.

“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.

He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.

“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”

SHOYO HINATA.

“don’t forget your anniversaries!”

Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.

His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.

“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”

You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”

The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”

Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”

You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”

Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”

The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.

He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.

“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”

“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”

Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.

The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.

Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”

“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”

You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”

“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”

This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.

“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”

“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”

Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”

“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.

“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”

“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”

The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”

Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.

His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.

And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.

“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

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