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“Are you really sure it’s okay for me to come along? I mean, they’re more your friends than mine.” Yamaguchi glanced over at Tsukishima, who was walking next to him.
Tsukishima snorted as he slid his headphones off his ears. “We’re already in Tokyo. Don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking that?”
“Well, I could always go hang out at a cafe or something until you were done, or at least get a private booth on my own. I know we already spent all this money getting here, but I really don’t want to impose on any--”
“Yamaguchi, shut up. It’s fine.”
Tsukishima’s clipped reply shook Yamaguchi out of his panicking, as it often did. “Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, looking sheepishly down at the sidewalk. “But remind me why I’m here, again?”
“Because there’s no way I would survive a party with all these idiots without bringing someone reasonable along.” Tsukishima smirked at Yamaguchi, who grinned back. “Looks like we’ve arrived, by the way.”
The two of them made their way into the building and took the elevator up to the sixth floor, stepping out into a dimly lit manga cafe. The worker at the front desk directed them to a large room near the back of the cafe where they were greeted by a number of familiar faces.
“Oi, glasses-kun! You made it!” Kuroo strode up to them, a paper cup in his hand.
“It would seem that way,” Tsukishima said dryly.
Kuroo ignored his sarcastic tone and continued on. “We have this whole theater room for the next few hours. Drinks are free, of course. And I think we’re about to start kar--”
“Hey hey hey! Tsukki! You like music, right? Choose the first song!” Bokuto dragged a protesting Tsukishima toward the large TV screen placed at the front of the room, thrusting a microphone into his hand.
Kuroo laughed, watching the exchange. “As the resident adult, I guess I better go supervise. You make yourself at home, okay?” He addressed Yamaguchi with a lazy smile before walking to the front of the room where Bokuto was still attempting to force Tsukishima into singing the first song on karaoke.
Despite what Kuroo had said, Yamaguchi was more than happy to stick to the side of the room and just watch. Eventually peer pressure coerced Tsukishima into actually choosing the first karaoke song. Yamaguchi grinned at Bokuto and Kuroo’s shocked faces when they heard just how good Tsukishima’s voice actually was.
As the song died down, a small sound made Yamaguchi’s head snap up. That little tune… he could’ve sworn he’d heard that before, on a commercial he’d watched time and time again. Where was it coming from? Yamaguchi searched the room, eyes settling on a face illuminated by a small screen. The fact that his hair hid his face meant it could be only one person: Hinata’s friend--what was his name? Oh, yeah--Kenma.
As nonchalantly as possible, Yamaguchi walked past the couch from behind, craning his neck to see what the Nekoma setter was playing. A-ha. As Yamaguchi had expected, the screen showed the familiar scene of a stylized little town and a tiny character walking around it.
Yamaguchi leaned over the back of the couch. “Uh, hello. You’re Kenma, right? I’m Ya--”
“Yamaguchi. I know.” Kenma finished for him, eyes never leaving the glowing screen he held in front of him.
Yamaguchi flushed. Kenma remembered him? He thought his non-starter position meant that he remained effectively invisible. Being remembered was a weird feeling.
The tones of background music emitted from the handheld device brought Yamaguchi back and reminded him why he was there in the first place. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but… Is that the new Bokemon game?” he asked.
Kenma didn’t even look up at him. “Yeah.”
“That’s so cool! I haven’t had a chance to play it yet, with end of term tests and everything. How is it?”
Kenma slowly turned around to meet Yamaguchi’s eyes. He blinked once, slowly. “It’s good.”
“Good to hear! I’ve been playing these games since I was really young, so I worry a little bit every time a new one comes out that it won’t be as good as the last few have been. But so far none of them have disappointed me!”
Yamaguchi might have been imagining things, but he could’ve sworn he saw the corner of Kenma’s mouth twitch upwards. “Yeah.”
“Do you mind if I watch for a bit?” Yamaguchi asked.
“Sure.”
Kenma never really talked, but Yamaguchi was fine with that. He knew that he could be a bit of a chatterbox at times, but Kenma seemed content to just listen, so he was happy to fill the silence. He talked about Kenma’s choices in Bokemon for his team (“You like the fire types, huh?”), about his favorites from his childhood (“I’ve always been fond of Tikachu, myself”), about his fond memories of the franchise (“In elementary school, we used to pretend to be Bokemon during recess. It probably confused our teachers”). Eventually he moved on to other topics--other games, school, and, of course, volleyball. Sometimes Kenma engaged him in conversation, sometimes he just nodded along, but even when neither of them spoke, the silence was a cozy one.
Yamaguchi never stopped talking, but Kenma quickly found he didn’t mind it. His stories and commentaries were interesting, but light enough that Kenma didn’t feel too bad when he occasionally got caught up in the game and realized that he’d missed the last bit of what Yamaguchi had been telling him. Yamaguchi didn’t ever seem to expect Kenma to reply, but he left things open enough that Kenma could join in, if he wanted. It was a lot less emotionally draining than most human interactions that Kenma was forced into, which Kenma was grateful for. As a bonus, Yamaguchi’s presence seemed to act as a shield of sorts, and no one more exhausting came over to bother Kenma while Yamaguchi was there. It was comfortable.
At some point, Kenma realized that the only noises he was hearing were the background music of the game and the shouting of the others as they attempted to play a game of Super Smash Pros on the big screen. Yamaguchi hadn’t said anything for a while.
Just as Kenma shifted to look over to where Yamaguchi was seated next to him on the couch, he felt something bump his shoulder. Ah, of course. Yamaguchi had nodded off and ended up resting his head against Kenma’s shoulder. Well, Kenma thought, the trip from Miyagi to Tokyo was pretty long. He smiled, rested his head against Yamaguchi’s, and went back to leveling up his Bokemon.