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“I am a 188.3cm tall sixteen years old.”
“I’m aware of that fact.”
“Exactly a centimetre taller than you are.”
“Trying to ignore that but yeah, uh-huh.”
“I am a guy.”
“Aware of that too, yes.”
“And you’re a guy too.”
“Yeah, so? What’s wrong with the set of genitalia we’re born with??”
Tsukishima swallows hard at the simplicity of the remarks by Nekoma’s captain; the one standing tall in front of him as they face each other behind the first gymnasium in his school. Even though they just had 5 sets of practice match together, he’s relaxed as ever – wearing that cunning smile on his face, hands in his pockets, sweats on his neck and black shirt is drying off by the help of cold late winter wind.
After a period of silence, scrunched up face out of perplexity of the situation and bewilderment, a choked up sound that is akin to the sound of laughter rumbles through Tsukishima’s chest.
“You’re trying to fool with me, aren’t you Kuroo-san?” His hands ditch the comfort of warmth in the jersey pockets to slow clap at the joke. He almost got him for a minute there. “Bravo. Your acting is A+. For a second there I thought the confession was real. My word of advice, don’t hesitate to pursue an acting career once you’re out of school. The look, the talent – you have it all. Plus you don’t seem like the type to go to college,” a sinister smile is up on his face.
Heavily sighing, Kuroo crosses his arms in front of his chest and took a few steps closer towards Tsukishima, so close that their chests would’ve touched if it isn’t because of Kuroo’s forearms. “Say, Tsukishima-kun, are you homophobic? Are you somehow disgusted by the idea of same sex love?”
“Wh – no! Of course not. People can love whoever they want, and I have no interest in stopping people from wasting their time being affectionate to each other, and if they’re lucky, until they’re old and dead and it continues beyond the grave.”
He said Tsukishima-kun, didn’t he? Tsukishima has always been Tsukki or glasses-kun to the captain – never his full name. Tsukishima can feel a knot tighten up in his gut, siren is blaring off in his brain to warn him of the impending danger.
“Then what makes you think I am joking?” Kuroo’s tone is calm and his smile is slightly faltering but still deadly. Moments passed as they stare into each other’s eyes before Kuroo sighed again, and this time the smile is gone and it is visible by the tense on his shoulder and his narrowing gaze that he is being dead serious. “I like you, and I think you should know about it. I thought you’d have figured it out after all those annoying pointless text messages I sent you since we had that training camp, but apparently you’re not as smart as you appear to be.”
That hit Tsukishima like a brick in the head. Kuroo snickers at the change in Tsukishima’s facial expression. “Anyway. I’m not trying to get you to be in a relationship with me. While being in an unreciprocated love is sad, I just want to get this feeling off my chest so it won’t distract me in games as much. Yaku is not pleased when I receive balls using my face rather than my hands and Lev is pretty much making fun of me right now for being worst than him in receives and that’s kind of irritating. I’m not expecting anything from you, but I’ll give you some time to think about it and reject me properly so I’d have a reason to eat tonnes of ice-creams while watching sad love stories without being mocked by Lev.”
Tsukishima is about to brush aside what the other male had said, pass them off as an attempt to salvage a failing joke, but his word died at his throat the moment Kuroo palms the top of his head and ruffles his hair with a sombre smile on his face.
“Good luck in your next game, Tsukki.”
‘Could you stop it with the Tsukki?’ went unsaid as Kuroo walks away, and soon after both the teams bid goodbye, the bus of Nekoma High disappears beyond the orange horizon to take them back into the city.
4 days has passed since the impromptu practice match between Nekoma and Karasuno sponsored by Nekoma’s coach because he thinks that it is necessary to keep us all on our toes. It has been 4 days since Tsukishima last heard from the rooster-haired captain and it would be a lie that he isn’t slightly affected by the lack of texts on his phone, of stupid jokes and random conversation.
During lunch time, subconsciously Tsukishima has his finger glide over the screen of his smart phone and through his inbox, scrolling along the long length of conversation he had with Kuroo previously.
Nekoma Kuroo: Hey Tsukki! You busy?
Me: Depends. What do you want?
Nekoma Kuroo: My my, you sure are cold to your senior.
Me: You’re not my senior.
Nekoma Kuroo: Though I look young I’m still older than you are, Tsukki.
Me: Could you stop with the Tsukki?
Nekoma Kuroo: Say, Tsukki, why did the rooster cross the road?
Me: Huh??
Nekoma Kuroo: Because he wants to show that he wasn’t a chicken heheh
His eyes caught bits and pieces of stuff they shared and it made him remember wanting to throw his phone like a fricking shuriken all the way to Tokyo, right in the rooster headed captain for his stupid joke. He scrolled further down and another part has his eyes fixed on the screen.
Nekoma Kuroo: Good evening, Tsukki! How was practice?
Me: Tiring, as usual. Hot-blooded idiots like Hinata and Kageyama wears me off.
Nekoma Kuroo: Haha, you sound just like Kenma
Me: What do you want, Kuroo-san? And stop with the Tsukki.
Nekoma Kuroo: Say, Tsukki, what’s a boxer’s favourite drink?
Me: ....How am I supposed to know?
Nekoma Kuroo: It’s fruit punch!
Me: ................................
Nekoma Kuroo: Did I make you laugh XD
Me: No, but you do make me want to punch you in the face.
Nekoma Kuroo: Well, that’s something. Good enough I guess
Tsukishima scrolled a little bit more and his eyes landed on a conversation they had a few days before the impromptu practice match in his school.
Nekoma Kuroo: Say, Tsukki, how do spacemen hold up their pants?
Me: ....................................
Nekoma Kuroo: The answer is...with asteroid belts! XD
Me: ...............................
Nekoma Kuroo: What’s the matter Tsukki
Me: .............if there is one thing I regret in life, it is the fact that I agreed to exchange number with you at the training camp.
Nekoma Kuroo: How unfortunate of you. Must be karma’s work because you’re so mean to that shorty and that genius setter in your team heh
He sucks the last of the chocolate milk out of the box and slides the phone back in his pocket, staring outside the window from his seat in the classroom. A lot of things are floating about in his brain that it messes with his ability to think clearly. He manages to keep himself together during practice, but his mind can’t help but slip every once in a while. This is a problem that could’ve been settled if he had told Kuroo off on that day itself. Rejection through the phone would be cruel, really, but what other choice does he have?
Yet, he hasn’t done any of it. A phone call, or even a text to Kuroo.
Crossing his arms in front of him on his table, Tsukishima buries his face in it. He places the headphone on his neck over his ears and blasted Pierce the Veil at full volume.
All of this is too bothersome.
This is why he avoided relationship in the first place. Granted, not many girl dares to confess to him because of his sarcasm and his unfriendly glares, but when they do they are usually the ones that think they could break some sort of barrier and bring him out of his ‘people loathing’ shell, the persistent ones that think his aloofness and sarcasm is a just an act to drive people away.
After 5 dates with 2 different girls, Tsukishima decided that girls are tiring to deal with and he’d reject them all as they come immediately. He isn’t some cliché boy who is too focused on his club activities that devoid him from dating, it’s much of the opposite. Club activity tires the hell out of him, and dealing with relationship bullshit at the same time would definitely knock him out.
By the same principle, it shouldn’t be a problem for Tsukishima to reject Kuroo and clear this out of his head. Despite being a guy – though that kind of shock Tsukishima out of his wit for a second – Kuroo is fairly an attractive person (much to Tsukishima’s spite) and he is the type that could get any girl to bed with him; charm their panties off in matter of seconds. So why – why does he even like him, confess to him, and prepare for being dismissed on his own accord? Why does he even bother to tell him if he knew that it’s rejection that he’s facing? What’s likeable about him in the first place that drives the captain to develop some sort of romantic feelings and jeopardizing their sort of master-pupil relationship?
Tsukishima’s mind is back to blaming himself that he should’ve told Kuroo off that day itself because now that he has the time to think, everything is clouding his thoughts. It’d be easier if he had done it mindlessly; let his mouth do all the reflex work of rejection than minding the things that lead to the confession and the things that he would have to consequently face after the rejection. And now....
His train of thoughts came into an abrupt stop after he’s feeling the pain of someone’s slapping his shoulder for his attention.
Yamaguchi is standing by his table holding a couple pieces of bread as Tsukishima raises his head. “What do you want, Yamaguchi?”
Being meek as ever, Yamaguchi slides a piece of melon bread on his table. “I didn’t see you out there having lunch so I thought you’d need this.”
A moment of silence passes between them and Tsukishima nodded a thank you at his best friend. Usually that’d make him scurry away back to his seat behind Tsukishima, but this time Yamaguchi is still standing where he was, looking at Tsukishima with a worried expression.
“Tsukki....are you okay?”
“I’m....as usual. Why are you asking?”
The shorter boy hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No...nothing. Eat your bread before the next period starts. But Tsukki, if something is bothering you, you can tell me about it.”
It’s startling how Yamaguchi is still his friend after the way he treated him sometimes, but Tsukishima is thankful for his never fading presence. “Yeah. Thanks again, Yamaguchi.”
“You’re welcome.”
The sound of whistle blowing this time is equally as painful in Tsukishima’s ears as the pain on his forehead – thank god it misses the centre of his face, or else his glasses would have needed a replacement if a spike by Azumane had found its way there. After a moment of blunder and everyone’s hype over the hit has calmed down, he is taken out of the court to tend to the inflamed bulge on his head with an ice pack.
“Come back in after you got your head out of the clouds, Tsukishima!” shouts Coach Ukai as he walks out of the gym.
Settling on the stairs of the emergency exit behind the gym, Tsukishima presses the cold pack on his aching head. He can definitely point directly at the source of the trouble: Rooster headed Nekoma captain’s Kuroo Tetsurou.
Almost a week has passed yet it still occupies his mind and it pisses him off so much that it still bothers him just because of a single stupid gesture by that bloody Kuroo.
Pressing the ice a little too hard at the uninvited mental image of that rooster head, Tsukishima winced.
“Do you need to go to the infirmary, Tsukishima?” He looks up to see Sugawara standing a step below him, later crouching to check on him. “You got hit pretty bad.”
“No, I’m okay, Suga-san. Thanks for your concern.”
Sugawara took a few steps up the stairs and settles to sit a step higher than the one he is sitting on. Wind blew past them before Sugawara clears up his throat.
“Tsukishima....is there something bothering you lately? I know you’re not all pumped up like Hinata so there’s not much difference than how you usually act, and maybe this is just me – but you seems preoccupied with something recently,” says Sugawara before continuing, “We lost you in the middle of a game; like just now, and you keep checking your phone when you think nobody’s watching.”
Tsukishima continues being silent. He wasn’t a person that is dependent on his smart phone. He realizes that he might be is now.
“I know whatever happens it is none of our or my business, but we’re all worried about you. Trust me. They do. Even if they aren’t saying anything.”
Sugawara sighed from the lack of response and was about to leave; getting back on his feet when Tsukishima finally manages to word his thoughts in proper sentences.
“Say, Suga-san, hypothetically speaking... what would you do when someone tells you they like you but at the same time tell you to reject them? Like...what is the point of it all?”
The worried look on Sugawara’s face is replaced with a surprise look, followed by a rumbling chuckle. “I can’t believe it is a love-related problem! Ahh, young love sure is great huh, Tsukishima!”
“Wha – Suga-san, I told you, it’s a hypothetical question!” Tsukishima is this close to being pouty, but the vice captain continues laughing, his eyes curving upward and smiling along.
Yeah, sure, right, it’s a hypothetical question,” says Sugawara, biting back a chuckle. “Let’s see...so this person confessed and told the person they’re confessing to to reject them? Hmmm.”
“Yeah....something like that.”
“This should have been a clear cut case, in my opinion. If you don’t like that person and there’s no potential there you would have ended it right at that moment when the confession happened.”
“That’s true...but what if, like, there wasn’t time to reject hi – them then, so they gave you time to think about it before you deliver the rejection to them later?”
“Still not a problem. Tsukishima, human mind is simple. You know what you like and what you don’t, your brain formed an opinion the moment something is shoved at it. Time given to think about it is just to further bother you, that’s all. It’s kind of like if somebody made me pick KitKat or Snickers Bar to have for free, I would pick KitKat in a heartbeat. If I had to think about it though, I’d weigh the pros and cons between the options; like how much it’d save me because Snickers Bar has more energy content and is more expensive than the other, how KitKat is really delicious for its size or stuff like that. If I did choose Snickers Bar in the end, it is a product of a strategized thinking, not what I want. What I want is KitKat. By the same rule, if you wanted to reject this person in the first place, you would’ve done so by now. It doesn’t matter how much time they gave you to ponder over it, because what’s eventual will happen eventually. Here’s the thing; you’ve been taking your time to think about it even though they have clearly told you that a rejection is okay and that get you thinking – why would it bother you so much if you wanted the same thing too, to reject this person?”
Tsukishima’s eyes widen in realization and Sugawara’s lips stretches across his face in apprehension. He rubs his stomach in circular motion. “Ahh, I should probably stop talking about chocolates. It makes me hungry.”
It was a spur of the moment kind of decision that Tsukishima decided to hop on the last bus to Tokyo after they finished practice that evening, deciding that enough is enough. He sent a text to Kuroo, giving him a heads up of what’s coming his way. It took Kuroo less than 5 seconds to reply to his message.
Me: I’m on a bus ride en route to Tokyo
Nekoma Kuroo: What?! Where – no, what for?
Me: To settle this once and for all
Nekoma Kuroo: .............
Nekoma Kuroo: .....How far are you from Tokyo right now?
Me: Judging from the signboard, approximately half an hour.
Tsukishima thought he had it all figured out; what he wanted to say, how he was going to say it, how cool he was going to act about it but the moment he got off the bus, therein waiting for him a tall, dark haired guy in that familiar red jersey standing out amidst the people in an almost empty bus station – the words died on his lips instantly.
Kuroo in his usual form took a confident stride towards Tsukishima and stops just inches away from him. They stepped aside to make way for other people on the bus to get off it, standing right in front of the bus parked under the large building with generic architecture.
“I can’t believe you’d come all the way to Tokyo just to reject me,” says the older male as he shoves his hands in the jersey pockets, the tone in his voice is light. “A phone call would have been sufficient, you know.”
It pisses Tsukishima off how unbothered he seems to be despite being the centre of all this chaos in his brain. “I was going to do it.”
Kuroo waited for quite some time for the sentence to finish but it never came. “You were going to do it, okay. But?”
“But....”
“Don’t tell me you’re not rejecting me?!” gasps Kuroo in slightly pitched voice and enthusiasm that it garnered everyone’s attention. Thank god there are only a few people to make a crowd there, all of them are countable using both hands. Both his and Kuroo’s hands.
“Don’t jump to your own conclusion, Kuroo-san,” retorts Tsukishima.
Kuroo tilts his head, looking all confused now. “Right. Okay. So you’re going to reject me after all?”
“You...you’re a KitKat,” blurts Tsukishima after a moment has passed, clutching his sling bag tight.
“I’m a what??”
“A KitKat.”
“I....don’t....get it.”
“Even though Snickers Bar has more calorific value and last longer in a long run, if somebody was to dangle Snickers Bar and KitKat in front of my eyes when I’m hungry and it’s for free, I’d choose KitKat.”
“You wanted a KitKat. You definitely said I was a KitKat, didn’t you?” A bright, crooked smile is plastered on Kuroo’s face. “So that means you want me. Right?”
“But, but if I was to be sensible about it – if I was facing starvation, Snickers Bar is obviously the rational choice to go. It’s,” Tsukishima swallows hard, raising his eyes to meet with the bright eyes glazed with hope that rises anew, he continues, “much better for the long run to sustain with chocolate with higher energy content than the one that tastes good and lasted temporarily like a KitKat...it’s...it’s easier to go down the road after saying ‘no’ than saying ‘yes’ because it’s just...unimaginable.”
Kuroo blinks his confusion away before he chuckles; eyes curving upwards, lips stretched, body shaking as if he’s controlling laughter from bursting out. Tsukishima is caught off guard when a pair of arms comes together and envelopes him, holding him tight and the ripple of Kuroo’s shaky body transfers onto his. They are so close that Tsukishima can feel Kuroo’s heart that’s been pumping erratically; and to be honest, his is too.
“Tsukki, I can’t believe you’d think about it that far. I’m really, really happy right now you don’t even know it,” he rests his head on the slightly taller boy’s shoulder.
Tsukishima’s arms wrapped around the older boy but his hands were awkwardly fumbling before it settles by clinging on to Kuroo’s shirt. “Shut up. You don’t know how bothersome this whole thing is.”
“Sorry. I thought you’d reject me right away. But as I got on that bus ride home and you didn’t, I became anxious. I left my phone at home when I go to school because I wouldn’t be able to stop the compulsion to check it every 5 minutes to see if there’s any message.”
“It’s still easier if I had picked Snickers Bar instead of KitKat, Kuroo-san,” sighs Tsukishima after a while.
Kuroo let go of his embrace to look at the other boy with a weak smile on his face. “I know that saying no would have been easier. I don’t even know what I’m expecting of this, but KitKat deserves a chance because one day the company might make one large enough per packet so it’d contain more calorific value than that Snickers Bar and keep you satisfied.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“You’re the one who started with the random KitKat and Snickers Bar analogy, Tsukki.”
Both of them laughed at each other’s stupidity – getting lost in their own conversation with mixed up emotions. Tsukishima believes that this is the karma he deserves for condemning Kageyama and Hinata for their brain-cell killing conversation.
“So,” begins Kuroo once their laughter has settled down, “what’s your plan for tonight? It’s already really late.”
“I’ll just buy a ticket back to Miya – ” Tsukishima’s word is cut off by the sound of clashing metal bars being pulled down at the shop lots and ticket counters, indicating that it is time to close down for the day. “Crap. Never mind. I’ll just sleep around here and wait for the first bus in the morning. There are plenty of benches to sleep on here, unlike in Miyagi.”
Kuroo rubs the bridge of his nose and looks up at him with narrow eyes after a period of silence. “Are you incredibly stupid or do you honestly believe I would let you do that?”
“Sorry for the intrusion,” says Tsukishima after he took off his shoes and stepped inside Kuroo’s dark house that gets brighter with every flick of switch as Kuroo walks inside right in front of him.
“Oh, you don’t have to be polite. My family is not around this weekend.”
“What a good timing,” mumbles Tsukishima under his breath, hiding his nervousness under the sarcasm.
“What did you say?” Kuroo turned around to look at the bored expression on Tsukishima’s face, looking tired and worn out.
“So what’s the family event?”
“A cousin’s wedding. I have a match to play tomorrow so I am excused.”
Suddenly it struck Tsukishima that Kuroo is a busy person too – busy with the sport he is very good at that even Coach Ukai told him to learn from the best, and that the best is Kuroo Tetsurou. “I didn’t know. I really shouldn’t have come here.”
“But you already did, so there’s nothing much you can do about it,” shrugs Kuroo as they walk up the stairs and into a room with a large space – one could probably do ballet in here – and the lack of bed is particularly noticeable. The second you stepped into the room you’d know that it’s a boy’s room; with all the posters of artists and anime on the wall and comics piling up by the side of the study table. Laptop and electronic gadgets are stacked on top of text books and there is a rack that is erected against the wall filled with trophies and awards. Kuroo walks over to the closet and pulls out some clothes and a towel and threw it in Tsukishima’s direction. “Go take a bath while I make you something to eat. The bathroom is straight down the hall.”
Kuroo left right after he had given the direction and disappears quickly, running down the stairs to do what he said he’d do. Tired and uncomfortable in the school uniform he’s been wearing all day, Tsukishima did what he was told to do without much thinking. He’s been thinking all week and he needs a break.
A plate of fried rice is already served on the diving table by the time the blond boy is done with a quick bath.
“How’s the shirts and the pants?”
Tsukishima tugs his pants a little before sitting on the seat across Kuroo. “The pant’s a bit loose but it’s okay. You’re not eating?”
“That’s because you’re so scrawny. You should eat more protein based food and build those muscles,” advices the older male. “And no I’m not, I already had my dinner before I got your text message.”
“Thanks for the meal,” says Tsukishima before he digs in. He’s eating quietly and quickly, because he’s tired and hungry from what he seems like a very long day. He had never taken a sudden trip to a place more than 200km away from home. His rejection didn’t sound like a rejection so he is practically going out with a guy that is sitting right in front of him – head propped up by his elbow on the table, smiling, no – smirking so dangerously as he’s watching him eat you’d think he’s plotting a clever way to murder somebody and dispose the body so nobody would ever find it. “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing,” dismisses Kuroo as the smile grows wider. “So. I’m your KitKat now.”
Tsukishima almost choked on his fried rice when he heard that. He chortles, and continues eating. “Actually, I prefer strawberry shortcake.”
“But that’s not chocolate. And why did you say I’m a KitKat then?”
Deciding that the conversation he had with Suga-san should stay just between them, Tsukishima employs a smirk that rivals the one of Kuroo’s. “Because you can never be as good as a strawberry shortcake.”
“You’re mean as always, Tsukki.”
“Stop it with the Tsukki. Also, why is there no bed in your bed room?”
“Oh, that. When I was a kid I spent most of my time at my grandparent’s place and I kind of like sleeping on a futon so I told my parents I don’t want a bed.”
“I see,” says Tsukishima, eating the last of the (not so badly done) fried rice.
He said grace, got up to wash his plate. Once he’s done, he turned to see Kuroo’s standing by the kitchen’s doorway, looking like he’s nervous about something.
“I uh, I’m going to get the futons ready in my room so we can go to bed. Or...”
“Or?”
“Or do you prefer the couch downstairs? You know...”
There will never come a time in Tsukishima’s life to admit that the proud older male is actually cute when he is stuttering this way, unsure of himself. A smirk carved its way on his face. “Why, are you going to do something ... to me?”
“Wha –no! I just – ” exclaims Kuroo nervously that it made Tsukishima laughs. “What the hell, you’re teasing me!”
After wiping his hands dry on the kitchen towel, Tsukishima pats Kuroo on his shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble Kuroo-san, but I’m too tired to do any other vigorous activity for tonight. Keep your dirty thought to yourself, okay?”
Kuroo, with cheeks slightly colored yells from behind Tsukishima as he trails after him upstairs to the bedroom. “You! Little! Bastard.”
He keeps snickering all the way up, his heart feels light; thinking that this is the most he has laughed in weeks.
Morning comes and it hits Tsukishima’s consciousness like a brick, wait, no, more like millions of bright tiny pins stabbing his retina, because the futon he’s sleeping in is directly below the path of sunlight from the slightly ajar window. He thought his body feels heavy because he’s still tired from yesterday, but when the buffer period after waking up stops, he realizes that half of Kuroo’s body is strewn across his, his arm is strapped across his chest, legs tangling his, his head is on his shoulder, drools rolling out of his mouth and on the shirt.
If this is scene out of a sappy romantic movie, Tsukishima would probably be falling in love right now.
But sappy romantic movie is not really his kind of genre.
“Wake up, rooster head! You have a match today,” says Tsukishima as he tries to peel himself away from the tightening grasp of the older male.
Kuroo mumbles against his shoulder. “Mmm...five more...minutes...”
“You have a match at 10. It’s almost 9 o’clock.”
“Really?!” Kuroo snaps his head to look at the alarm clock above his head. “Shit.” A fraction of seconds later, he is already frantically fumbling to the bathroom down the hall.
While waiting for Kuroo to have his turn to use the bathroom, Tsukishima fold the futons and keep it away in the old-fashioned closet in the room. All the while he can’t stop his brain from replaying the scene from last night.
“We haven’t really talk this through yet.... but I swear won’t do anything to you that you don’t want to,” said Kuroo that almost sounded like a plea; Tsukishima could hear the sound Kuroo scooting over under the cover of his futon from his own in the dark, and had his arms around his waist, his pounding chest pressed against his back, his warm breath falling against the skin of his neck. Tsukishima shuddered from the chill of the touch, and felt warmth creeping on his face. “I hope this is okay.”
Tsukishima nodded slowly, the tense in his body slowly receding, warming up to Kuroo’s body enveloping his. “Yeah.”
“Thank you for choosing KitKat over Snickers Bar, Tsukki,” at that moment Tsukishima swears he could hear the heartiest smile in his words.
“Oi Tsukki! Hurry and use the bathroom! I give you five minutes and then we’ll leave!” screams Kuroo from outside of the room broke his trance. The sound of him running down the stairs echoes throughout the house.
Tsukishima rolls his eyes and grabbed the towel from yesterday, heading towards the bathroom to wash his face.
“You should’ve stayed behind and celebrate with your teammates,” says Tsukishima as they walk side by side towards the earliest bus they could catch to go to Miyagi. “I can find my way around here myself.”
“I know, but you’re my guest,” smiles Kuroo, hands in his pockets is pretty much his standard appearance. “I can always celebrate with them later. There are more matches to win before the Spring Tournament gets real.”
“Heh. Cocky, aren’t you?”
“Whereas you mister,” Kuroo palms his head and ruffles his short sandy blond hair, a gesture not so foreign to him, “lack confidence! Believe in yourself a little!”
After pacing for quite a length, they stopped short near the bus. “Well then, I’ll be leaving. Thank you for taking care of me, Kuroo-san.”
“Not a big deal. I’m a nice guy after all,” a crooked smile carved its way on Kuroo’s face. Tsukishima looks at him with a dead (disbelieving) fish eyes, and Kuro laughs. “That look is uncalled for, you brat.”
Looking outside the window from the bus, the exit to Miyagi is not too far ahead. Tsukishima felt vibration in his pants pocket and fishes out his phone.
Nekoma Kuroo: Say, Tsukki, what do you call a person who puts poison in someone’s corn flakes?
Tsukishima huffs.
Cheers to a beginning of something new.
Me: A cereal killer.
FIN