Chapter Text
Tsukishima doesn’t know if he hates volleyball. But he sure hates volleyball players. They’re loud, smelly, obnoxious, and wayyy too pumped up at the idea of leaving high school at midnight, direction Saitama. For seven to eight hours. Pure madness. Tsukishima also hates how a certain hot volleyball captain/player has been plaguing his thoughts and his dreams. Some naughty, some so cheesy and romantic, he woke up flustered. Although he guessed that it was better to the, err, alternative when his dreams had been a bit less PG-rated. If you catch his drift.
Besides his unfortunately vivid imagination (damn you, puberty), the rest of the break in between the two camps hadn’t been that great. As he predicted, Tsukishima got into a pretty bad funk as soon as he was back. He slept nearly all the time. Stopped eating. Lost five pounds as a result, worrying his poor mother to death. The only thing he managed to do besides rotting lifelessly in his bed was shower, at least once every two days. Not as good as his usual daily showers, but still more than the last time his depression got so bad he stopped it altogether. He considered it a small victory. The shower also had the advantage of hiding two things he views as equally embarrassing: crying and masturbating. Not that they were shameful per se, but well, privacy is important, after all. But yeah. That was bad. So bad, in fact, that his mom had sent him to an urgent session with his shrink. It didn’t do much, but it did a little. Maybe. His brain had been rather useless during these few hazy days. All he remembers is that his doctor told him he might have misdiagnosed him, and instead of a regular depression, he had something called Persistent Depression Disorder, or “Dysthymia”. He was still on the same meds, but now, he knows that it might take longer and that he’ll have some other episodes, such as this one. Surprisingly, it didn’t elevate his mood. Who would have thought?
Yamaguchi was there nearly every day, though. Tsukishima didn’t mind that. There was no shame between them. One of the many advantages of being best friends since they were eight. They had seen each other at their worst. Tsukishima had lost count of the number of times he’d seen Yamaguchi crying. They’d both seen the other one violently throwing up or having panic attacks. Several times. Yamaguchi had been an unfortunate witness to his most severe meltdowns. And, well, how could he forget their first sleepover ever, which ended with both having wet the bed, and Akiteru comforting them and helping them do the laundry. They made a promise to never, ever, talk about that incident again. Both discovered the “joys” of puberty at the same time, such as the random, unprompted boners, acne, wet dreams, voice cracks... So, yes. There was no shame, no awkwardness between them. Yamaguchi knows about his autism. His anxiety. His depression. The problem with his brother. He had been the second person (after Akiteru) Tsukishima came out to, when they were eleven. Yamaguchi knows damn well how prickly Tsukishima can be. And yet, he has never wavered. Never tried to get rid of him. He never got tired of him, of his moods, of his sass (sometimes mean-spirited, yes, fine), of his crumbling mental health. Nearly every day, he’d come to his house and lie down with him as they’d watch documentaries, series, and films that brought them some comfort.
Yet, Tsukishima couldn’t shake the feeling that Yamaguchi was not being entirely truthful with him. It was as though Yamaguchi was refraining from saying something to his friend, which feels odd and out of place. There is usually no taboo between them. Unlike what people think, Yamaguchi is never afraid of speaking his mind to Tsukishima. But whenever the other team members start some additional training, and Tsukishima is the only one who doesn’t join them, he senses something shift in Yamaguchi’s demeanor. It never lasts long, but he can still feel it. He simply doesn’t have the words for it.
So, by the time they embark for the new, longer training camp in Saitama, Tsukishima is barely out of his depressive episode, while his anxiety keeps toying with him that maybe his only friend is finally tired of him or of his “nonchalant” attitude and that everybody is about to find out how bad he is at volleyball, how inferior, how useless… Not such a great mindset, but he’ll have to make do.
This time, he is at least better prepared for the travelling part. He took some medications against motion sickness and had sleep masks ready. Narita is the one who introduced him to them during the first camp, when he learned that his underclassman was having trouble falling asleep in unfamiliar, overstimulating environments. And kudos to Narita, because these actually work. As soon as he was home, he bought a ton of it. He also thought about bringing some stim toys (though he does feel silly thinking of them as toys), including the infinity die cube that Takeda gave him.
He doesn’t know if it’s because of the drowsiness from the medication or the mask, or his exhaustion, or maybe a combination of everything, but this time, he’s able to fall asleep about an hour after they take off. By the time he is jostled awake by the bus’s movements, it seems that his meds have stopped working. He tries to control his breathing. It’s still early, and most of the bus is still asleep, including Yamaguchi, who is snoring and drooling lightly next to him. When Tsukishima feels the bile rising in his throat, he quickly takes a plastic bag, holding it with shaky hands. He tries to be quiet and discreet, but if you know how to vomit without making any sounds, please feel free to tell him.
He wakes up Yamaguchi, who gently rubs his back as he expels the contents of his stomach. Then, Hinata wakes up and he barely has the time to mock Tsukishima and gloat that, for once, he’s not the one puking on the bus, before he starts being sick himself. And in doing so, he manages to wake up the rest of the bus, who groan at the deja vu scene.
“Well, we’re supposed to arrive in like less than half an hour, so we almost made it without anyone puking. That’s gotta be a new record, right?”, Sugawara jokes.
“It’s Tsukishima’s fault”, Hinata whines. Yamaguchi defends his friend’s honor, as the blond boy is still busy vomiting.
“Hey! Don’t blame Tsukki! How many times have you gotten sick on the bus, Hinata? For all we know, you could’ve been the first one throwing up, so it’s not Tsukki’s fault you’re sick”.
“I mean, yeah, but he did also barf last time, when we went to the first camp”, Tanaka points out.
“Ugh, make it stop”, Tsukishima mutters, wiping his mouth.
“Huh? You mean the conversation?”, Yamaguchi asks, puzzled.
“No, the bus”, Tsukishima says through gritted teeth. Daichi, as a good captain, is quick on his feet.
“Sir, can we stop somewhere and quickly, please?”.
“Aw, come on, we’re almost there”, Ukai groans, before turning to them. It takes him one second to realize that, yet another disaster is upon them.
“Hit the brakes, Specs!”.
They finally arrive almost an hour late. The bus needed some, uh, cleaning. Again. Still, Nekoma’s team and its coach were there to welcome them into the new camp.
“Ah, finally! You guys sure love to make an entrance, hm?”, Coach Nekomata says.
“Ah, sorry about that. We had a delay, some of our students got car sick”, Takeda apologizes as he chuckles lightly.
“Are you okay, Shoyo?”, Kenma asks the redhead quietly.
“It wasn’t me!”, Hinata screams in his defense.
“Huh, yeah, you did puke, Hinata. Don’t rewrite history, bro”, Tanaka remarks.
“Tsukishima started it!”, Hinata yells, pointing out to his teammate, who was leaning against the bus, his eyes closed, Yamaguchi by his side. The taller boy winces and opens his eyes. When he notices that Kuroo is looking at him, he feels his cheeks reddening immediately. Oh, God, he hates it here. Stupid Hinata! Don’t put such images of him in Kuroo’s mind, you buffoon! He’s not going to find him hot if he pictures him being sick. The last humiliating moments of the previous camp are also still fresh in Tsukishima’s mind. Yeah. He really has no chance with Kuroo, huh? He probably just views him as a whiny, childish kid who needs to take breaks and naps and is car sick like a big baby. It’s not fair, really.
“You know, Tsukki… I’ve noticed that Kuroo is always looking at you”, Yamaguchi tells him during the first break. Tsukishima wipes the sweat from his brows before sipping his water. Electrolytes. Yachi’s order. Because of the heat and how much he got sick on the bus. Which, of course, Kuroo heard. Yay.
“Okay. And?”, Tsukishima asks, trying to play it cool. He’s just glad Yamaguchi can’t hear his stupid little heart going Ku-roo, Ku-roo, Ku-roo, rhythm and all. Pathetic.
“I mean… Don’t you have a crush on him?”. Less than a second later, Yamaguchi frantically pats his back as his childhood friend keels over, choking on his water.
“I don’t have a crush on him”, Tsukishima ushers, glancing worryingly around them, making sure they couldn’t be heard. Yamaguchi stared at him, skeptical. Tsukishima sighs, scratching his head.
“Okay, fine. I think he’s hot. But that’s just it! It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything, I just… I just find him hot and attractive, and that’s it. I don’t even know him enough to develop a crush on him”.
“And whose fault is that? Tsukki, he always talks to you, he clearly wants to know you better, and you just… shy away from him. Like you’re avoiding him”. Of course, he’s avoiding Kuroo. Because Kuroo is passionate about volleyball. Tsukishima isn’t. Kuroo clearly wants everyone to enjoy, love volleyball, and give it their all. And that’s not what Tsukishima wants. No, thank you. He can’t really say that to his friend without risking another lecture, so instead, he tries a different angle.
“There are 370 kilometers between us”. It’s weak. He knows. But it’s something.
“There’s this little thing called the Shinkansen. Pretty neat thing. Fast too”, Yamaguchi counters. And so sarcastically, on top of that. Damn. Maybe Tsukishima really is a bad influence on him.
“He’ll be in college next year”. An even weaker argument. Given Tsukishima’s usual taste in men, Kuroo is actually the closest in age. It sure is more appropriate for him to crush on Kuroo than, say, Ukai… Or a college friend of his brother, like last year.
“So? Who cares? Tsukki, you don’t even have to enter into a deeply committed relationship with the guy. It could be just a summer fling. No strings attached”, Yamaguchi argues. Hm. He has a point. Maybe Tsukishima and Kuroo could just… fool around a bit and go back to their normal, respective, separated lives? But…
“I mean, what’s the point? He’s probably not even attracted to guys, or to me, anyway. It’s just useless to make speculation about that”. This time, Yamaguchi rolls his eyes.
“Then, just ask him. You’ll never know if you don’t ask! And it’ll be more useful than just staring at him hopelessly”. Tsukishima almost takes a step back, surprised by his friend’s tone. Still in a daze, they join the team again in silence.
The first day proved to be exhausting. And the beating, rising heat didn’t help. Neither did the new environment. Tsukishima had trouble eating again, and once again, his team was insufferable, trying to get him to eat. Even the coach and the teacher insisted. Maybe they’d noticed his recent weight loss. Yamaguchi certainly did. He keeps giving Tsukishima sweets and snacks he knows he loves. He’s also allowed to wear his headphones during mealtimes, which actually does help. And he manages to ignore the few curious glances in his direction.
Then, after the final practice, everybody stays to do some more. When Yamaguchi asks him if he wants to train some more, and Tsukishima refuses, his friend seems briefly disappointed before getting back into his supplementary practice. As Tsukishima starts wandering outside, desperately needing fresh evening air, his brain is working overtime. Is Yamaguchi mad at him? Disappointed? Worried? Angry? See, this is why he should be carrying his laminated charts of emotions on him, all the time! He grips his towel. God, he’s so tired already. He just wants… He just wants… Well, that’s the problem. He doesn’t know what he wants. Unlike everybody else, he doesn’t have a specific goal in mind. He knows what he doesn’t want, though. Caring. Caring for volleyball. He doesn’t want to be hurt. But what if, in doing so, he ended up hurting Yamaguchi? What if he becomes a burden for the team? Maybe it’ll be better if they dump him all of a sudden. Yeah. Probably for the best, right? But… Would Yamaguchi still be his friend? Or would he be so disgusted with him that he would also leave him?
He could feel his mind spiraling, inventing an absurd scenario of his childhood best friend suddenly turning into an awful person who didn’t love him. Which was, as said previously, absurd. Yamaguchi would never do that. But then, five seconds later, he would take it as a serious possibility. He could feel his chest tightening, his breath hitching, his palms sweating when, mercifully, an annoying voice interrupted his burned-out brain.
“Oi, Glasses from Karasuno!”. Kuroo. Oh, come on. There were more than a hundred of other people but somehow, he and Kuroo always crossed paths. What were the odds? If he were in a better mood, he’d probably calculate them, so as to soothe his poor nerves. Like the giant nerd that he is. Yeah, there’s no chance in hell that Kuroo would be interested in him. He probably likes hot, confident, masculine jocks. Surely, he’s not into scrawny, geeky, blondie skyscrapers like him.
“Wanna do some blocks with us?”, Kuroo asks him, his patented grin splashed across his face. Standing next to him, stretching, is Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s loud, exuberant ace. There is also Akaashi Keiji, Fukurodani’s second-year setter. He is a lot calmer than the two goofs who are currently at him with eyes full of hope and grins full of tease. Tsukishima wanted to say no. For several reasons.
- He doesn’t want to spend more time with Kuroo. He doesn’t want to take the risk of developing actual feelings for him, rather than just dumb, hormonal infatuation.
- He’s never talked to Bokuto or Akaashi, and he is always uncomfortable at first with new people. And he doesn’t feel like getting to know them. Sorry, not sorry.
- He’s tired.
- To hell with volleyball, he just wants to read a book.
--------------------------------------------------
Listen. He HAD tried to say no. No, wait, scratch that. He said no. But then, and don’t ask him because he has no idea how, but Tsukishima still ended up being roped up in some additional training. With Kuroo of all people. And Bokuto and Akaashi were there, too, I guess. And it… didn’t go really well.
The training part in itself had been excruciating. Bokuto was a force of Nature. He was strong, and his spikes were powerful. And they hurt like hell. Tsukishima’s arms were now covered in bruises because of that crazy, hyper owl. His twig arms, like the wing spiker said. Yes, Tsukishima knows he’s scrawny. Hell, even Kuroo nicknamed him Skinny. Although Kuroo did give him good tips, he also (unknowingly) gave him a devastating blow. And Tsukishima is so mad, he’s not even going to think about a dirty joke about that “blow” thing.
Kuroo told him that, if he wasn’t careful enough and didn’t start working harder, Hinata would soon surpass him. Which Tsukishima is plainly, painfully aware of, thank you very much. That’s why he doesn’t put up much of a fight. What’s the point anyway? He can’t compete against him. Hinata is a natural at volleyball. Tsukishima is just… tall. That’s it.
He left quickly after that, hoping that he had managed to deflect quickly. That he had not shown his hurt. His wounded pride. Heh. Pride. What a funny word.
“What more do you need than pride!?”. That’s what Yamaguchi had asked him. Yup. His dear friend had finally snapped at him. Grabbing him by the shirt, shaking him, and yelling dramatically and all. He was tired of his defeatist attitude. Of his pessimism. Of his self-doubt. And then, it just opened the floodgates. Yamaguchi’s words (cool as hell, if you’d ask Tsukishima) resonated in his head. He was right. He was right, Tsukishima knows it, but it scares him. What if he does try his best and he fails? What if he ends up just as hurt and broken as his brother was? With all those thoughts buzzing loudly in his head, he mechanically walked to the 3rd Gym. Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi were still there.
He asked them questions. They answered. Did the buzzing in his head stop? No. But for once, it didn’t get any louder. Then, they enrolled him in more blocking practice. He was still scared. Still doubting. Doubting himself, his skills, his love (or lack thereof) for volleyball. His heart was still pounding from Yamaguchi’s unexpected outburst. But for the first time in years, he felt something else. Something else besides his crippling anxiety and self-loathing. Calling it hope would be a stretch. Calling it motivation, passion would be a delusion. But there was something, something that he should and would cultivate.
And now, here he was, two days later. Panting, gagging on the roof of the building, after yet another exhausting additional training. His chest keeps seizing as he tries and fails to keep control of his breathing. Of his mind. Of himself. He really thought… that he could do it. So, he tried his “best”. But just a few cool sentences won’t undo years of anxiety, self-loathing, and low self-esteem. So here he is, having a panic attack after everyone went to bed. He couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about what he should do, how he should do it. Yamaguchi told him he has the means to become a great player if he puts his heart into it. But does he, though? Isn’t he wasting his time? Isn’t it all… useless?
“Tsukki?”. Tsukishima has his head buried in his knees, hugging them tightly to his chest. His face isn’t visible, but somehow, despite the dark pitch of the night, Kuroo is still able to recognize him at a glance.
“Hey, are you okay, man? Do you want me to get someone?”. Kuroo’s voice is soft, painfully tender. Tsukishima wants to drown in his deep, velvety voice. He might have an odd thing for voices. Leave him alone, okay? He tries to answer that he doesn’t want anyone else here, but the only thing that comes out is a strangled, pathetic noise.
“Alright. Do you wanna try something? It might help you?”. Slowly, Tsukishima nods, his head still hidden.
“Lay down. You can keep your eyes closed, but it’d be easier for you to breathe if you’re lying down, rather than twisting yourself like a pretzel”. Tsukishima slides off the wall, lying on the floor, his palms touching the cold, hard ground. His eyes are still closed. He can feel Kuroo taking place next to him.
“Alright. Breathe in for five seconds. Hold for six. Out for seven”. And Tsukishima does just that. With Kuroo by his side. Once. Twice. He feels his frantic heartbeat finally slowing down to a much more tolerable cadence. Kuroo’s shampoo tickles his nose. Apples. It smells like apples. And just like that, Tsukishima’s newly found calm bursts into flames again, crimson painting his cheeks. Kuroo just had to have the nerves to smell so good. And being nice. And amazing at calming people down from a panic attack. All that on top of being hot!? Come on, how was Tsukishima supposed not to develop anything for the guy?
“D’you feel better, Tsukki?”, Kuroo asks him in a careful whisper. Tsukishima sits down against the wall abruptly, startling the third year.
“Tsukki!? You okay?”, Kuroo asks him, getting closer, trying to see if something was amiss.
“Y… Yes, I’m fine, Kuroo, thank you for, for, hm... Thank you”, Tsukishima stutters. Kuroo smiles at him before brushing a strand of his blond hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. His cheeks are now just as red as Tsukishima’s. Kuroo drops his hand, smiling nervously at him.
“Oh, ya welcome, kid”. Kid. Oh. Aw, man. Really? After all they had shared. Tsukishima was hurt. Wounded, even. Better change the subject. That’ll take off the hurt.
“How did you know I was there?”, Tsukishima asks quietly. Kuroo looks at him before sitting down next to him. He tilts his head towards the moon.
“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, I saw that the door was open. I used to go up here all the time. I wondered if anyone was there and, y’know”. He turns his head to look at the younger boy, smiling at him. “I’m glad my bladder woke me up”. There is a beat and a light chuckle escaping Tsukishima’s lip.
“What about you, Tsukki? D’you want to talk about that?”, Kuroo asks quietly, almost reverently. Tsukishima hesitates a bit. They really don’t know each other all that well. It would be weird to open up to a near stranger when he can barely talk about it with his best friend. Still. He wants to try. For once.
“I have anxiety”, he starts, staring at the ground. “I mean, General Anxiety Disorder. The big thing. It’s annoying, really. Most of the time, I have it under control, sort of?”, he continues, frowning. He sounds lame. He sounds…
“By that, you mean that you usually have your freak-outs where nobody can see them? But at other times, it just explodes out of nowhere and there’s not much you can do”, Kuroo interrupts him softly. Tsukishima’s eyes widen. How? How did he read him so well? He might have said that out loud, because Kuroo continues.
“I used to have anxiety as well when I was a kid. Took me years, but eventually I got better”, he explains.
“You got better? It… It can?”, Tsukishima whispers. It’s dumb. He knows it’s possible to recover from anxiety. But still, hearing it from someone else, especially from someone so cool, it… It makes him choke up a bit. Kuroo takes his hand. With a lot of care. Gentleness. You don’t have to take my hand if you don’t like it, it seems to say. So, Tsukishima holds his hand, letting Kuroo’s thumb caress him.
“It can. I hope that’ll be the case for you”. Tsukishima nods. They stay like that for several seconds, until Tsukishima breaks the silence.
“Can I ask you another question, please?”. Kuroo smiles at him again. Not a grin, just a sweet smile that makes the boy melt at its sight.
“Yeah, of course, Tsukki. Also, you don’t have to be that formal, y’know”.
“Hm. It’s about what happened during the first camp. When… When Kageyama and I had hm, problems? And apparently, you’re the one who told the manager to show our teacher the room where we could rest?”. He stutters a lot. Usually, at most, he does have a lisp, but that’s it. But he’s tired, and words start to get hard to get out.
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s true”, Kuroo nods, waiting for Tsukishima to continue.
“Hm, well, first, thank you, but also… How did you know we needed to be in a room like that?”.
“No need to thank me. And uh, well, I just… Guessed?”. Tsukishima frowns. He doesn’t believe him. Kuroo sees it and sighs, rubbing his neck, uncomfortable.
“It’s just… I know that room because Kenma often needs it. A lot of your behavior reminds me of him, and I don’t know, I just assumed you’d probably find the same relief that he does”. Tsukishima nods, still processing the information. Huh.
“Oh. Is Kenma also autistic like me?”, Tsukishima asks, tracing an invisible circle on the cold floor with his free hand. He feels Kuroo tense a bit, and he looks at him, curious.
“It’s not my place to out someone’s diagnosis”. His tone is not exactly harsh, but it isn’t warm either. But to Tsukishima’s ears, it sounds like he made a huge social faux pas, and now, he’s afraid that Kuroo hates him or that he broke the spell.
“Sorry”, he quickly apologizes, retracting his hand. He brings his legs closer, in a vain attempt to protect himself. Kuroo notices the shift in his attitude, his shutting down, and gets a bit closer, putting his hand over his again.
“No, no, don’t be. I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, you know? I’m just always uncomfortable when people ask me about Kenma because most of the time, I fear that they’ll make fun of him. Which is like, stupid, because Kenma isn’t ashamed of his autism, and he doesn’t hide it, y’know? Plus, he already told me to stop protecting him, but like…
“Old habits die hard?”, Tsukishima tries. Kuroo nods.
“Yeah”. Kuroo looks at him and sees him shivering.
“Are you cold?”, the older boy asks him. Tsukishima nods, still not looking up. His head shoots up when he feels something on his shoulder. Kuroo’s jacket.
“Here, put this on. Don’t want you to get cold”, Kuroo says. He shifts places, sitting down cross-legged in front of the other boy, taking both of his hands in his to warm them up. They close the gap between them, little by little, soon, their foreheads are resting against each other.
“Is that weird?”, Kuroo asks. Tsukishima shrugs, still not meeting his eyes, out of habit.
“I don’t know. I don’t have a good idea of what’s weird and what’s normal”, he says. Kuroo grins.
“Yah, I bet”, he teases, and Tsukishima squeezes his hands in retribution, a small smile on his lips.
“Hey, Tsukki. Can I ask you something?”. When he sees Tsukishima nodding, he continues.
“When we were on the rooftop, the last night of the first camp… You huh, made gestures at Freckles? Was that Sign Language?”. Tsukishima squirms, and now, it’s Kuroo’s turn to wonder if he broke an unspoken social rule.
“Hm, yeah. Sometimes I lose my voice. I get nonverbal. It’s frequent for me, so my family and I learn JSL. And so did Yamaguchi when we became friends, when we were eight. And my team is learning, currently. They wanted to be able to understand me even without Yamaguchi around. That night, I hadn’t been able to talk since I woke up”, Tsukishima explains.
“I see. Oh, wait, does that mean you weren’t disgusted by my stupid ramblings about the stars!?”, Kuroo asks, and Tsukishima chuckles.
“Not at all. I was dying to find a way to tell you ‘Hey, I’m super into whatever you’re blabbing about, but I can’t talk right now, please don’t take offense. That was stressful”, Tsukishima admits, his grin matching Kuroo’s. Kuroo barks out his hyena laugh, startling Tsukishima a bit, before the younger boy chuckles again.
“Shhh! People are going to hear you”, Tsukishima says. Kuroo zips his mouth shut, his shoulders still shaking from his laughter.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just so relieved that you weren’t freaked out by me being a complete nerd”.
“No way. You should see me when I infodump about dinosaurs or, really, any animals. I’m sure Yamaguchi will be the one to be relieved, I find another victim for that”, Tsukishima snarks. Kuroo’s grin gets wilder. He likes how the boy is more comfortable with him now.
“Well, Tsukki, I’d really love to hear your infodump. Would be an honor”, Kuroo says. Tsukishima has the softest smile on his face, but Kuroo still has something gnawing at his mind and hopes he won’t break whatever there is between them with his next question.
“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, your panic attack tonight. Was there a specific trigger? I’d want to help you, if I can”. Tsukishima’s face suddenly shuts down, and Kuroo bites his lips. Shit. He shouldn’t have…
“I just… I don’t… I feel inferior. Like, I’m not good enough, I need to do more, and I’m terrified that even if I try my best, it won’t be enoug.h”, Tsukishima stammers a bit, before talking faster, as if he wanted to be done once and for all. Like ripping an old band-aid.
“Oh. Oh, shit, I fucked up when I brought Shorty, didn’t I?”, Kuroo asks, horrified. Tsukishima manages to roll his eyes.
“Don’t give yourself all the credit, my mental health is really the guilty party here”.
“Still”.
“I mean, you couldn’t have known. And I shouldn’t be coddled just so my feelings won’t get hurt, you know”, Tsukishima says, a bit annoyed. Kuroo sees it and decides to defuse the situation. It’s too nice late talk at night for it to be ruined.
“True, true. However, I disagree with you on something”. When he sees Tsukishima quirk an eyebrow, Kuroo continues. “You are already a good player. And you are GOING to get better. Trust me. You have the means for it. You’re tall, yeah, but you know what your two biggest advantages on a lot of people are?”. Tsukishima shakes his head.
“You’re smart. Crazy smart. I can tell that. And you also keep your head cold, collected on the court”. Tsukishima pouts a bit.
“Thanks, I appreciate the on-court precision”. Kuroo giggles.
“Guilty. Thought I could sneak that one past ya”.
“Hmph. Nothing gets past me”. Kuroo nods and gets even closer to him.
“See? That’s what I meant”. Tsukishima blushes some more.
“How can you be so sure?”, he asks quietly, as if he were afraid that Kuroo would hear him. Or hear his insecurity.
“I’ve observed you a lot. Since our first match together. Even more during the first camp”.
“Thanks. Yamaguchi told me the same thing, but I don’t know if I believe either of you”, he admits quietly.
“That’s okay, Tsukki. I guess we’ll believe it for you, until you can finally believe in yourself”, Kuroo whispers. Tsukishima swallows the hard lump in his throat. He refuses to cry. He humiliated himself enough in front of Kuroo.
“Let’s get you back to bed”. Tsukishima nods. Kuroo holds his hand while walking him to his dorm. I’m a gentleman, Tsukki, he says, when Tsukishima asks him why he insists on accompanying him.
“Well, I think this is you”, Kuroo whispers again, when they are standing at the door. Tsukishima nods again. He’s quiet. Thoughtful. He fiddles with his hands.
“Ah, your jacket, I –
-Keep it”, Kuroo says quickly, before ruffling his hair. He gets a bit closer, blushing just as much as the first year, and seems to hesitate before kissing Tsukishima lightly on the forehead. Kuroo’s eyes widened, mimicking Tsukishima’s, before he darted into the hallway.
“Huh?”. Tsukishima, puzzled, enters the room as quietly as he can before stepping over his sleeping teammates. He tries to be as discreet as possible, but he still manages to wake Yamaguchi up.
“Tsukki? You okay?”, his friend asks him sleepily.
“No. Kuroo only sees me as some stupid little brother”, he whines softly.
“Huh!?”, Yamaguchi sits up, alerted.
Meanwhile, back in the Nekoma’s quarter, Kuroo quietly slips into his futon and notices that Kenma isn’t sleeping.
“Kenma, why aren’t you sleeping?”. His friend looks at him, slightly disgusted.
“You’re one to talk”. Point taken.
“Where were you?”, Kenma asks casually, not really caring. He’s too focused on his PSP.
“On the roof. I was talking with Tsukki”. Kenma pauses his game and looks at him briefly. Interesting. But not enough for him to stop playing completely.
“And I screwed up”, Kuroo whispers dramatically. Kenma sighs. Pauses his game again.
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating, as usual, but go on”.
“I wanted to kiss him. But I was too shy, and I ended up giving him a forehead goodnight kiss, like I’m his grandpa”, Kuroo whines. Kenma turns off his game. Now, this is juicy.
“You know I can see you grinning, right!?”, Kuroo mutters, outraged. Kenma’s grin widens.
“Good. Go, tell me everything so I can properly mock you”.