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It’s not like Tadashi Yamaguchi didn’t want to find his soulmate.
In fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. When he was little, so small that he wasn’t even sure if these were his own memories or the fabrications he’d put together based off all the stories his mother had told him growing up, he’d wake up every morning and check his wrist for his soul mark.
Patiently waiting, praying every night before he fell asleep that he would wake up and see the first words he’d hear his soulmate say to him tattooed on his wrist.
So needless to say, when the day finally came and he blinked back tears hoping that when his vision stopped blurring the words would be different, it was hard to actively hope he had a chance of actually finding the one he was destined to be with.
Thanks, come again.
You heard about it, people whose soul marks were phrases too common to be anything but cruel. But you never really understand the weight of it until you grow up with it. At first, you wonder if every person who says those words in passing could be the one. Then, you get angry. How many times a year were you going to be reminded it was nearly impossible for you to find the one person out there who was made to hold your heart in their hands?
But eventually, and maybe this is the worst part, you completely stop caring whenever you hear the words that used to make your heart pound.
Of course Tadashi Yamaguchi wanted to find his soulmate, but sometimes the world just didn’t work like that.
♡
He’d grown up giving up.
When he tried to stand up to the bullies, they only kicked him down harder. When he auditioned to be the little prince in the middle school cultural festival play, he didn’t even get cast as a bush. (Which he would have been perfect for, snickered the girl in the next class over who he had a crush on. I mean, have you seen his hair?)
When he wished that the same girl would be the one running a booth so he could order something and possibly hear her say “Thanks, come again,” it turned out that booth had undercooked the meat and every single customer got food poisoning the entire weekend after.
It wasn’t until he met Tsukishima that he started to look at things a little differently.
“Soul marks are lame,” he said matter of factly when Yamaguchi told him about his. “It’s not like your soulmate is the only person in the world. Plenty of people marry people that don’t have some dumb matching tattoo.”
Those words changed everything.
You didn’t have to forsake a happy ending just because fate decided to play a joke on you. If you didn’t like the path laid out in front of you, rather than turning around, just make your own.
He’d proved it was possible during his first year of high school. He could have given up, accepted his seat on the bench. But he didn’t, and he’ll never forget the way his wrist tingled as he scored his first ever no touch ace against Seijoh Academy.
That’s when he knew for sure what he had to do.
If he couldn’t find his soulmate, he’d simply fall in love with someone better.
♡
There wasn’t a single player standing on the court that wasn’t incredible, but there was only one that Yamaguchi absolutely couldn’t look away from.
Miya Osamu.
How many times had they made eye contact from across the net? The first time, when he’d been brought in to score some points with a jump floater. The second time after the Miya twin had shot down a dangerously powerful spike and found Yamaguchi’s gaze before his feet even touched the ground. A third, a fourth time.
When the match ended and Karasuno emerged victorious, rather than watching the dramatic exchange between Hinata and the other twin, Yamaguchi waited to see if one last time he could catch his attention.
Look at me , he thought.
And he did.
♡
It’s not like seeing Osamu Miya again was the only reason he was excited to head to nationals for the second year in a row, but it sure was the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head as of late.
“Are you actually going to speak to him this time?” Tsukki teased as the two of them walked off the bus.
“I’m going to try,” he answered, already scanning the crowd. He’d spent the entire last year checking up on Inarizaki High, keeping up with their games and hoping they’d make it to nationals again.
When they did, it was only a matter of waiting. Yamaguchi may have stopped looking for the person with the tattoo connected to his, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up finding someone who could make him happier than anyone else.
Call him pathetic, maybe even delusional, but there had been a connection between him and the wing spiker the year before and he hadn’t been able to shake it. Locking eyes with Osamu had been like watching Shimada do a jump floater for the first time during his first year.
It was only a moment, but it was enough. He’d reached out and followed his heart when he’d asked his soon to be mentor to train him and it had gotten him further than waiting around. He wasn’t about to sit around this time either.
Not when it was his last year to catch a moment alone with him. Even if it didn’t amount to anything, if he didn’t try, how would he know? That was worse than the anxiety crawling up his skin as he spotted the black and white uniforms he would have recognized instantly.
And there he was, more breathtaking than he’d been last year. Yamaguchi stared at the back of the boy he’d been waiting months to see again.
He didn’t say a word, didn’t move a centimeter. He just clenched his fists and thought the same thing he had last time. Look at me.
There was no cue, no reason for the boy to turn around. And yet, he did.
If there was a time to call out to him, it was then. He took a deep breath,
and stopped short.
Because there was already someone there, talking to Osamu, taking his hand and making him smile so soft it could only be the result of hearing the voice of someone more dear than anyone else.
Yamaguchi wondered if he’d even seen him.
Look at me. Look at me. Please, look at me.
He should have waited a little longer. He shouldn’t have turned around and walked back to find his teammates when he did. Maybe if he’d stood there just a moment longer, he would have seen the way the boy turned back, looking for someone but not knowing who, reaching out as if he could stop a phantom from leaving.
♡
Life went by in a blur of happiness and heart-warming memories. He graduated from Karasuno High School in the spring of his third year as captain of the volleyball team. The last three years were full of many heartbreaks and breakthroughs, and even more priceless reminders that he didn’t have any regrets.
Well, there was one, but as Coach Takeda would say, a life without regrets isn’t possible. What matters is how one chooses to shape those regrets into new goals.
He’d spent his college years focusing on himself and his future, spending time with his friends and trying to shape his life into what he wanted for himself.
It didn’t matter that there was a blank face in the back of his mind asking him to find them. He had already decided that before he could truly give finding a partner in life, he needed to have everything else together first.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
He wasn’t expecting free tickets to the volleyball match of the year, or to find himself standing ten feet from the only regret he’d kept locked away in his heart. Osamu Miya, wearing a hat promoting his onigiri business.
Of course, Yamaguchi knew all about it. You can delete search history from your computer, but not from your memory.
“Two salmon and one tuna with mayonnaise please,” he said, voice surprisingly even despite the way his entire body was shaking.
The moment those grey eyes met his, it was like being back in high school all over again. He'd never spoken a single word to the man in front of him but he felt like he knew him better than just an old opponent.
Was he imagining the bob in his throat, the way he stumbled back at the sound of his voice?
Nodding at him with a professional, customer service smile, he gathered up the ingredients and got to preparing the order.
"Thanks, come again!" He exclaimed, hand brushing against Yamaguchi's as he handed him his food.
"Thanks," he muttered back, too focused on the direct contact to immediately understand what had just happened. But when it hit him, it knocked the air out of him.
Wait , he stopped, and faced him completely. He searched for any sort of sign that would indicate that the words he'd just said were different from all the other times he's said the same thing to other customers.
"Hrm?" Osamu hummed, rubbing his neck with his hand. "Oh, hey! It's you. Uh…From Karasuno! You were the one with that real nasty jump floater!"
He was both elated to know he remembered him and disappointed that it didn't seem to go beyond that. Why had he even gotten his hopes up when he'd already heard those three words more times than he could ever count.
They didn't mean anything.
"Aah," he tried to keep his voice even. "It's Yamaguchi."
"Oh yeaaahh, this is Sendai. Duh it's your home terf."
Ah, oh well. May as well enjoy the reunion.
"Yeah, but even if it wasn't being held here in Sendai, there still no way I would miss this game."
Osamu Miya's smile was still as beautiful as it was all those years ago. "Heh," he laughed, his eyes trailing down his body slowly. "I bet you wouldn't."
Yamaguchi gripped the bag, swallowing slowly. He didn't want to be the first one to look away, but he could hear the sound of the crowd growing. He wanted to be able to find his friends before it got too crowded.
Thanks, come again!
"Osamu, can I ask you a question."
Osamu was looking at him with what could only be described at bare hope. "Yea?"
"What does your right wrist say?"