Archive of Our Own

They're outside Sakanoshita when Tadashi finds out what a blood moon is.

Going to Nationals is a prospect that sits looming over everyone in the Karasuno Volleyball Club like the knowledge of buried treasure when you have no way to find it. Their practices leading up to the event reflected this-- they would make their own map with the knowledge they already had and the tools they had forged from their own hands, packed happily (dangerously ) away in their arsenal. 

Tadashi knows he wasn’t alone in feeling the air shift when Coach Ukai insisted they stop for the night, or the way they all began to stay later for personal practice, even when they know they have too much homework to get done and too many commitments to uphold. Sometimes he can see that it’s even hard for Tsukishima to stop himself from getting overly into a practice match; Tadashi brightens at the images his mind has conjured up for him, displaying all the times his best friend has glowed with something one might call fire if they have never seen Hinata burn so bright. No, fire was not what made Tsukishima's eyes shine so fiercely, but maybe it was moonlight.

"Why are you smiling like that? It's creepy." They're walking down the hill right before Sakanoshita when Tsukishima speaks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a slender finger as Tadashi turns his face to him. He still looks shimmery from the three-on-three they had earlier, resplendent even in the dark gap between the street lamps they're walking through. Tadashi has to look away. 

"Sorry, Tsukki!" He replies instantly, it was a habit that for all his newfound confidence he had yet to break "On a scale of one to Kageyama, just how much did it freak you out?" 

"Two. No one could be as bad as Kageyama even if they tried." 

"I dunno, Tsukki, have you seen Hinata's impression of him?" Tadashi asks, thinking back to the day he had tried it out (for what he found out later was the second time) in the club room. The way Nishinoya and Tanaka had lost it at Hinata's hair being plastered down still rings in his ears if he thinks about the memory hard enough and the frown that still managed to look endearing flashes behind his eyes; Tadashi has a good amount of experience finding something to be adored in scowls. Luckily, Kageyama hadn't caught him so Hinata escaped the burst of annoyed aggression that usually came with his stunts involving the setter-- he had only been confused when Tanaka burst into gales of laughter at the sight of him. 

Tsukishima makes a small 'tch' noise that Tadashi almost mistook for distaste. He glanced at the blond for verification and found the side of his lip curling up into something Tadashi considered a smile instead. "Sadly." was all that came out. He snickered despite himself.

"I'm gonna get a meat bun, want one? My treat." Tadashi offers, stopping outside of the store. Artificial light chisels out his shadow onto the pavement as Tadashi tilts his head to punctuate the question. When Tsukishima stops it does the same for him as well. 

The aggressive luminosity sinks its claws into his best friend's skin and tugs at the shadows, creating a push and pull that highlights the generous upturned slope of his nose and pout of his thin lips. An urge to brush his fingers along the soft curve of his cheekbones takes root in Tadashi, so strong that he curls his hands into the fabric of his pants. It’s only when his gaze settles onto the other male’s eyes that he quails. A white glare blocks his right glasses lens, a good thing because he knows that if he had to face both of those always-thinking eyes giving him the look that’s there now, the one that tells him that he's been staring and that Tsukishima had said something, he would melt into a puddle on the ground (or at least wish that that was something he could do on command).

His body settles for blushing instead of going liquid. Tadashi's hands find their way into his pockets so that he doesn't clutch his face and will the blood to flow to the organs that need it. Attention would most certainly be drawn to him and his body’s betrayal (or better option, depending on what one thought) if that’s how he finally responds. To his credit, Tsukishima says nothing about the reaction.

"Did you hear me?"

"No, Tsukki. Sorry, Tsukki." Tadashi replies sheepishly as Tsukishima just shakes his head.

Tsukishima denies his offer of getting him a meat bun, which Tadashi expects, but deigns to wait for him outside while he gets one, something he also expects. When he comes back out from the shop, meat bun in hand and stomach growling, the blond is right where he said he'd be-- by the doors, bulky headphones clapped over his ears with a small amount of music leaching out into the warm darkness (every year Tsukishima swears he'll get a new pair that doesn’t make a sound and every year he stays with the same ones he's worn since they were first years in middle school), head tilted up towards the star filled sky as he looks for the moon. Tadashi knows the exact moment he spots it because of the pleased expression that slips onto his face.

Tadashi generally regards his best friend as someone who’s very knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects, one of which is the moon. Well, it’s probably more like the whole night sky, but Tadashi only ever really asks about the moon and Tsukishima never gets the chance to steer the conversation in the direction of constellations or black holes because he’s stuck answering the extra questions that stem from the facts he would supply in the first place. If it bores him or he’s gotten sick of it he never lets on and Tadashi never asks.

"What phase is it tonight?" Tadashi inquires as he ambles over to him. Tsukishima's eyes flit to him and, after a second, he blinks, head never turning from the moon.

"Waxing gibbous. I think there's supposed to be a blood moon later this week..." He trails off, eyebrows furrowing in a gentle sort of concentration, much different from what he displays on the court. This one doesn’t involve his decent reserve of cunning, it just requires being thoughtful and Tadashi can feel the warm, smile-inducing waters from the well of pride in his chest spring up and out of the place where they usually lay dormant; it occurs to him then (like it had started to more recently in these past few months) that he’s one of the only people that get to see him like that. Calm in a way that doesn’t make one want to hide, fearing that he’s planning something. Tadashi’s face lights up at that (inexplicably so for Tsukishima). But that isn't the only thing he's experiencing in his chest-- curiosity is gripping at him with sharp fingernails.

"What's a blood moon?" 

In the seconds that follow the question they began walking again and Tadashi takes a bite of his meat bun, peering at his best friend expectantly.

"It's when lightwaves make the moon look red," Tadashi makes a 'duh' noise and Tsukishima shoots him an unamused glance. For the sake of not interrupting him again there are no 'sorry's in sight. "Because of a lunar eclipse. The Earth gets in the way of the sun which makes the moon dark since it reflects the sunlight. Then the light that it can get seems red to our eyes."

Tadashi knows that his eyes are wide with awe before he feels them, or rather the air that's drying them out while he ceases to blink. It's partially because of the phenomenon (which, now that it had been explained, he realises he has seen before, although he would've called it a red moon before a blood moon any day; the latter sounds so sinister) but partially because it's Tsukishima who's telling him the information and he's always a little bit starstruck when it comes to him.

"Well, now we have to watch it together." He states suddenly, eating some more of his meat bun to punctuate his point. All of this was done with the same ferocity as if he had made a chopping motion into the flat palm of his hand.

"Why? We've both seen one before."

"I know, but I didn't always know what I was looking at. It'll be fun, and you can even bring your telescope. I know you've been dying to use it more." Tadashi smiles broadly at him as they pass beneath another street light and Tsukishima looks down, pulling off his glasses and beginning to polish them. He can see no visual smudges on the lenses when his eyes dart down to the motion. but supposes that since he isn’t the one who was wearing them he wouldn’t really know.

"What if I say I'll have homework." He puts his glasses back on.

"Then I'll call bullshit."

"I'll have homework."

"Bullshit." Tadashi thinks it's the serious, matter-of-fact way that he says the word, coupled with the deadpanned nature of Tsukishima's prior statements that get them laughing. It isn't for a long time by any means but it's a kind of sound he associates with childhood-- before puffs of amusement and suppressed snickers behind an open palm became the norm. He realises, then, that it's that sound, the sound of Tsukishima's laugh-- warm and kind of raspy and, most importantly, happy --  that he'd like to keep bottled up and stored for those days when people have the nerve to say anything bad about the blond. 'Listen!'  he'd shout at them, 'listen to this and tell me how you could be hateful towards him!' . Tadashi knows he's biased, but when it comes to Tsukishima, he doesn't think it's a bad thing.

It takes Tadashi longer than Tsukishima to recover, but when he does, a large grin slips onto his face as he regards him, one that softens into something shy at the indecipherable look Tsukishima is giving him then. It's like he's searching for something-- brow furrowed, lips tilted downward, large eyes looking like the occasional gold of lanterns and candle flames in their focus. He blushes under the scrutiny and decides that it's because the blond is still weighing the pros and cons of his decision that he looks like that. Tadashi nudges his shoulder.

"Now you're the one who looks like Kageyama, only this time it’s like when he gets into the game," He nibbles at his meat bun again and listens to Tsukishima's 'tch' of annoyance at being compared to Kageyama Tobio of all people. The way his face was set from before is gone now and Tadashi can feel when his face becomes cool again, even if a part of him misses how intensely his best friend's attention had been on him. "Hey, Tsukki?"

"Hm?"

"If you don't want to come see the blood moon with me, you don't have to. I can always ask Hinata or Yachi if they want to--"

"No, I want to come," Tsukishima states, a bit forcefully if Tadashi has anything to say about it (and he does, he always does when it comes to Tsukishima). "My homework can wait."

“You mean your made up homework.”

“Sure.”

Tadashi counts that as a win.

- - - -

Topics shift to the blood moon once more while they’re in Tadashi’s room the next day. Tsukishima has set up camp on the bed, back propped up against the headboard, long legs tucked up just enough to allow him to lean notebooks against them so he can write, necessary books and materials piled up close to the edge of the bed. Tadashi sits at his desk with his materials sprawling in his own organised chaos all over the workspace. Companionable silence drapes over them, silky and smooth. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's Tsukishima who pulls the fabric of quiet off of them.

"Yamaguchi." He doesn't say his name like he's trying to start a conversation or even grab his attention. Rather, it falls from his lips-- is breathed out in a way that makes it sound as though that was the entire sentence. His last name was the beginning, middle, and end to a short story of Tsukishima's creation. Tadashi knows that he could just be projecting a romanticised version of what he wants to be true; when he lifts his head from his work to hum a noise of questioning, he isn't even blushing too badly.

(He remembers the days where he didn't try to find deeper meaning behind his best friend's words, where blood didn't rush to his face at the imaginary scenarios and analytical thoughts he had every time Tsukishima did or said something to make him question if it really is all in his head, where he never found himself faced with the sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t alone with these feelings.

Tadashi is growing to hate false hope.)

"Did you know that blood moons are supposed to be bad omens?" Tsukishima is chewing on the end of his pen now, and Tadashi begins to keep his eyes safely away from his mouth.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I guess they seem kind of scary, but a bad omen seems pretty harsh to me," Tadashi supplies after a second and Tsukishima lets out a small laugh, more like a breathy chuckle really. He starts to think that maybe Tsukishima is trying to kill him, that he knows how much his chest feels like it might explode. "Why?"

Tsukishima blinks. "Why?"

"Why are they bad omens?"

"Oh. Some people think it's because they signal the start of an apocalypse or the end of the world, but mostly it just because of ancient societies and stuff." Yamaguchi grins at the last part while the blond pushes up his glasses. Whenever Tsukishima tacks on 'and stuff' to the end of a sentence it’s usually because he hasn’t finished whatever he’s gotten the facts from. His brain gives him the wonderful mental image of his best friend choosing to sleep or re-watch one of his favourite dinosaur documentaries instead of continuing to read a paragraph more of a blood moon article and he has to stifle laughter with the palm of his hand.

"What?" Tsukishima asked with clear curiosity. If it had been a few months prior, Tadashi might've said that it was nothing and applied to his ego, claiming that he wanted to know more facts about the things he knew Tsukishima was confident about. Tsukishima would've let him. Instead, all he said was:

"'And stuff'?" A mischievous smirk tugging at his mouth, which is still covered by his hand.

"Better than Wikipedia." He deadpans and Tadashi doesn’t hide his mirth this time.

"Much better, Tsukki." He really would take what random facts he could learn from Tsukishima and the quips they traded back and forth afterwards over an impersonal website any day-- there's no competition. He has to remind himself that he is just imagining it when he thinks he detects a hint of red ghosting over the high points of the blond's cheeks, color coming to his own.

Besides this, there's a brief lull in conversation and they're wrapped back up in that silence from before, each refocusing on their homework. Tadashi wonders if this is a product of their childhood friendship, the ability to bask in the closeness of having another person in one's space while still maintaining that floating, illusive form of independence that usually makes things awkward if the reasons behind them aren't understood. It has taken Tadashi years to fully internalise that the inward nature of his best friend isn't about him at all, years to grow comfortable with what people might otherwise call an awkward silence, years to figure out that, sometimes, he likes to be quiet with Tsukishima too. 

"Tsukki," This time it's Tadashi who's tentative voice shifts the focus of homework to something else. Tsukishima's head tilts up to meet his gaze, acknowledging that he had said something; gold on chocolate. "I don't think that a blood moon is a bad omen."

"No,” He responds, like he’s thought about it a lot. “I don't think so either."

- - - -

It is exactly twenty-four hours before Tadashi and Tsukishima are set to watch the blood moon when Tadashi finally, finally , realises the romantic implications of the whole ordeal. He blames Yachi and his own obliviousness for this new turn of events.

It had started when he told her about the blood moon. All the first years were still cleaning the gym and deconstructing it from their practice which had run later than expected, something that was becoming the usual. Kageyama and Hinata were racing with the mops while yelling, Tsukishima was making sure the net was properly put away in the storage room, and Tadashi and Yachi were picking up volleyballs and sticking them into the ball trolley. Despite how loud (and strangely efficient) the freak duo was being, the gym was peaceful. He felt content in knowing that he had earned the sweat he had worked up, the bruises on his limbs. His chest was swollen with pride in his performance and the knowledge that he would be working towards fulfilling the ever present hunger to succeed tomorrow. 

"There's going to be a lunar eclipse tomorrow." Tadashi had said during a lull in the conversation, not born from awkwardness but from exhaustion and the acknowledgement of said exhaustion from each party.

"Oh yeah! I think one of my teachers mentioned it earlier. It's supposed to look amazing, well amazing and kind of spooky." Yachi gathered a few volleyballs in her hands and deposited them into the trolley while Tadashi moved it so it was closer to where they were standing.

"Are you gonna watch for it?" He asked. Kageyama and Hinata had stopped mopping and were now putting the cleaning supplies away, leaving them mostly alone.

"Probably. There’s a really nice field only a little bit away from my apartment that’s easy to bike to, I’m sure it has a nicer view than my window. What about you?"

Grinning, Tadashi replied "Mhm. Tsukki and I are going to the park near our houses to see it together."

"Really?" She asked, turning to face him. He could see confusion creasing her brow and didn't really understand what there was that was inexplicable. It all seemed rather straightforward-- after practice they would head to Tsukishima's house to pick up his telescope and walk to the park. The eclipse would start soon after that if the website they had gotten their information for the date and time was correct, leaving them with just enough time to get everything set up before the blood moon actually occurred. It was, according to Tsukishima, foolproof. Kageyama and Hinata said their goodbyes as they left the gymnasium and were waved off with enthusiasm (Despite everything, Hinata and Tadashi had been becoming fast friends and Kageyama wasn’t too bad either). The sounds of ‘Bakageyama’ and ‘Don’t be a dumbass’ could be heard from where Tadashi and Yachi still worked.

"Is that surprising?" Tadashi asked once they were alone again, pure curiosity written over his face-- the 'i's could be dotted by his freckles.

Yachi blanched and waved her arms in front of herself. "N-no! I mean you guys are so close and everything. But I just thought, you know, it's uh, kind of... romantic, that's all!" She said the word romantic so fast that it seemed like it was burning her tongue. Her face was bright pink and by the time it had registered, so was Tadashi's.

"Um-" Is all he could get out, voice cracking on the brief syllable, before the sound of something falling in the storage closet made them both jump then. It cut off the rest of the reply he was about to stammer through, and, after making sure Tsukishima was alright ('I'm fine, I'm fine. I just dropped something, don't worry.'), they quickly busied themselves. The rest of their time cleaning up was spent spewing quiet and awkward apologies with adamant denials of romance on both sides while trying to make the blood thrumming brightly into his cheeks go down before anything was really found amiss.

Now he's trying to fall asleep, head sandwiched in between his pillow and the mattress, and moonlight has broken into his room and is languishing mockingly over his comforter wrapped body. The reminder isn’t as startling as his forceful thoughts are.

It's no secret to himself that he's in love with Tsukishima Kei. The development has flowed so naturally through their relationship, through Tadashi's probably-never-truly-platonic-at-all feelings for his best friend, that admitting that to himself is no more a struggle than saying that grass is green and the sky is blue. Tsukishima's romantic feelings towards him, or lack thereof, is natural to Tadashi too. Although he has grown in confidence over the months he’s been in high school and fought to be able to assure himself that he could be on equal footing with the rest of his team, he’s still Yamaguchi Tadashi and Tsukishima is still Tsukishima. As much as he hates to admit it, or even acknowledge it, he’s like Kageyama in the way that girls seem to flock to him. And why shouldn't they? Tadashi himself knows that his best friend is gorgeous, G-d* knows that he knows, and he’s intelligent in a way that isn’t just book smart, unless one considered people reading and the reading of a book to be the same skill.

It's no secret that he's in love with Tsukishima, but he doesn't want to make it seem like he's trying to seduce him either.

Tadashi knows it’s fear that’s hindering any excitement at the possibilities that would come from the wrong idea Tsukishima may or may not have gotten, the idea that this moon watching event was supposed to be romantic on purpose. It could be turned into an opportunity to confess his feelings and see if all the times he was projecting his own feelings onto him, it wasn't a projection at all. Maybe he had been reluctant to agree at first because he knew what it could possibly imply? Or maybe he really did have homework to do (something Tadashi cared exponentially less about in the grand scheme of what-Tsukishima-might-think-is-his-grand-scheme)? He allows himself to become a starfish underneath his blankets, eyes shut against both the darkness and his overwhelming thoughts.

"Stop it." Tadashi tells himself aloud, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. It's not often his thoughts are chaotic enough to warrant a verbal warning, a grounding of large proportions, but he thinks it might be twelve am and as someone who can usually get to sleep right away, he's exceptionally annoyed with the hyperactivity. He has to repeat this a few times before his body even thinks about starting its REM cycle and he knows that the next day will be something akin to Hell because of this.

The only bright spot is the blood moon, even if it now comes with a mile long list of worries.

- - - -

He was right about the next day being Hell, but it’s only the first circle.

First, Tadashi is late meeting Tsukishima at the corner that connects their streets, where they usually start walking to school from (If he finds Tsukishima standing there, ten minutes past their normal time and still waiting with his brow furrowed in annoyance and, maybe, concern, he'll never tell), and by extension he is late to morning practice. Surprisingly enough, they aren’t scolded too badly, seeing as they’re usually on time and Tadashi almost never skips.

Being sleepy in class isn’t so bad either-- it helps the day pass in an uneventful blur that comforts the anxiety he hasn’t even realised is building up. The only thing that really lives up to his hellish machinations is the constant boomeranging of his thoughts and feelings. 

One part of himself is excited, excited for the moon, for the facts he knows he’ll get Tsukishima to tell him, for hanging out with his best friend who he’s in love with so much that sometimes it hurts worse than the silent, offhanded way his mind and body seem to accept that this is one thing that is plainly unobtainable. Who can blame him for wanting to be with him as much as he could? Platonic is good. Platonic is what he'll get used to one of these days.

The other part of him desperately wants to test out the whole romantic thing, to pray for a moment that will spark between them like it does in movies-- Tsukishima will tell him that he loves him and maybe sweep him off of his feet. He gets the last thought in the middle of class which is probably the worst time in the history of times to imagine Tsukishima, a dinosaur dork and lover of sarcasm, trying to seduce him. He fights to suppress a chuckle he doesn't even notice is coming out until his teacher is asking him what's so funny.

Tadashi is so embarrassed that he doesn't notice the look Tsukishima gives him when he apologizes furiously for interrupting.

- - - -

"What do you think it's going to look like?"

"Yamaguchi we just saw pictures of it on google, we both know what it's going to look like. Red."

"But it's different in person, I think. Maybe more sinister?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it'll look like the moon but red."

Tsukishima pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose when he says the last part, straightening up from where he stands hunched over his telescope as he adjusts some of its mechanisms. It was a birthday present from Akiteru and nice for what it was-- not flashy but sleek, functional without being over the top. Tadashi knows Tsukishima loves it. 

The fall air has a bit of a bite to it as they stand at the crest of one of their park’s many hills. To onlookers they probably look like two teenage boys woefully unprepared for the lack of light the moon was already starting to cast, a shadow cutting deeply into its silver glow. They might even look suspicious, but that is mostly the fault of Tadashi seeing as he's practically vibrating with nervous excitement, slightly behind and to the side of Tsukishima who's looking, like always, cool and maybe a little sharp around the edges.

In the proper darkness, Tadashi thinks his best friend looks ethereal, all tall grace and glowing presence. He sticks out best in minimal light because eyes, at least Tadashi's, are drawn to-- 

Tsukishima clears his throat. Shit , he’s been caught staring. Again. "I think," the blond begins, glancing away from a rightly mortified Tadashi-- pink cheeked and all-- and his mind thinks it’s prudent to harp on the fact that now Tadashi won’t be able to tell if he’s blushing too, at least not in this light. "That it's all ready, if you want to try it out?" 

"Y-yeah! Okay, Tsukki." Comes his quick reply as Tsukishima steps back from the device, hands in his pockets and gold eyes still on the ground. If Tadashi could thank him for that, he thinks as he walks over and bends slightly to look out through the telescope, he would. 

It is safe to say that Tadashi has no clue what he's looking at as he presses his eye against the eyepiece-- he can't tell if that makes the view more or less impressive. The way the rich expanse of space is decorated makes him recall holiday lights brightly displayed in dark windows, especially the shape Tsukishima has locked on to. He doesn't know the name, only that it's more vivid compared to some of the other constellations around it and that it might be hard to tell what it was if he couldn't follow the distinct W pattern. The entire thing is starting to seem so familiar that he begins to wonder if Tsukishima has picked this test space out just because Tadashi has probably seen it with him before. 

"Cassiopeia." Tsukishima says quietly as if reading his mind. He can’t see him but Tadashi can hear the subtle, contemplative frown in that one word, signalling the beginning of cogs turning in his best friend's head. 

Tadashi breathes out a "Wow..." as he traces the sight with his eyes one more time. He wants to burn it into his head so that later, when his brain insists on playing and replaying the events back to him while he tries to sleep, instead of thinking about how he was caught staring, he could focus on how beautiful the night was instead.

He raises his head and moves away from the telescope, wide eyes addressing Tsukishima with wonder. "Why's it called Cassiopeia, Tsukki?"

"According to Greek mythology," He’s using that voice, the one he reserves for solid facts and concise calculations, the one that Tadashi knows like the back of his own hand because he loves to hear it when Tsukishima isn’t mixing it with brutal truths most people didn't want to know. "She was an arrogant queen who had to sacrifice her daughter to make up for the consequences she brought on herself. Her daughter was saved, though, by Perseus, but Cassiopeia and her husband were killed when they didn't look away from Medusa's head in time after Perseus ended up being attacked at the wedding. She was put in the sky as her punishment."

Tadashi doesn't know what expression he has on his face, exactly. In theory, he can feel his still-huge eyes and his mouth open before spreading into a grin the size of Japan, processing the information. That doesn't mean that he knows what it could be making Tsukishima think, what it could potentially be giving away about his particularly lovey-dovey circumstances. It isn't like Tadashi can stop, though-- or like he really wants to in the first place.

"Tsukki is so cool!" He gushes, a little breathless in his admiration. 

Tsukishima looks down again (Tadashi curses the dark-- he can't tell what the blond's face is doing), "Yeah, well. I just read a few articles on different constellations when I started using the telescope, it's not a big deal. Anyone could do it." As he talks, Tadashi migrates closer to him. By the time Tsukishima's finished side stepping the compliment they are once again side by side, separated only by the air hanging around both of them. 'Personal bubbles'  he remembers a teacher calling them once. Tadashi is thoroughly annoyed with personal bubbles.

A beat of silence and then: "Still cool."

"Yamaguchi." Tsukishima's tone is exasperated but firm. A few months ago, Tadashi would've immediately responded with 'Sorry, Tsukki' and left it at that. Then again, a few months ago seeing a blood moon in the sky wouldn't have been a possibility yet and Tadashi certainly wouldn't have pushed so hard as he did to get them to watch it. Now, though, now he gives as good as he gets.

"Tsukki," He says in that same tone of voice, dark eyes as no-nonsense as Tsukishima's gold ones. The blond lets out a small sigh that tells Tadashi that he’s won a bit of leeway and causes a large, fond smile to tug at the edges of his lips. "Can you just let me compliment you?"

His response is a rapid and sure "No." and Tadashi's grin never falters.

"Too bad, Tsukki. You're stuck with it."

"Oh, I am?" Tsukishima responds with a faint smirk, looking sideways at Tadashi and pushing up his glasses while the shorter of the two nods languidly.

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" The blond turns so he’s facing Tadashi instead of the star dappled horizon line, and Tadashi turns with him, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes, the sardonic and endearing tug of thin lips. He feels the beginnings of... something, love or pride, maybe, grow in his chest, starting with the bud that’s blooming in his heart and branching outwards like leaves on a vine, wrapping around his rib cage, getting tangled in his lungs, squeezing his diaphragm because he knows he is one of the only people who will get to see Tsukishima look like this, will get to be teased by him in a way that isn't supposed to wound, but instead be playful. He wants to keep that knowledge close to him and let it fill all the places where caustic remarks said about his best friend lurk like sea monsters in the murky waters that is his memory. He wants to use it as ammunition against those who hate Tsukishima and even for those moments when Tsukishima hates himself. He wonders if this is what love is supposed to be.

"I do, actually." 

"Like what?" 

"I..." Tsukishima not saying anything right away strikes Tadashi as odd-- he's 80% quick wits, after all-- and in this brief moment of confusion he realises that the reason for this sudden speechlessness could be the fact that they have floated quite close together. His face flames at this brand new fact. All he has to do is take another step forward and... and what ? Kiss him? Hug him? Confess to him? What does he expect to get out of it besides rejection and the ruining of blood moons and a friendship for all of eternity. Tadashi is contemplating taking a step back, something his body hasn't done already in reaction to the proximity, the traitor. He's nearly forgotten what they were talking about, too caught up in maintaining the delicate balance of the situation when Tsukishima's voice, barely there and very un-Tsukishima-like, draws him out from his brainstorming session on how to not make this very awkward: "I never get the chance to say anything back."

Oh.

Tadashi is almost certain that Tsukishima is blushing, that's a thing he doesn't mind about the distance, being able to see him better-- eyes on the ground beside him, head turned away. He isn't necessarily wrong about the compliments, but the phrasing suggests that he does want to say something back, has wanted to at least occasionally when Tadashi makes a comment about his intelligence or nice eyes (The Nice Eyes Plight of March was a specific event they had both quickly brushed aside and it had been burnt into his mind ever since). He has gotten used to the nature of their relationship when they were young and then again when it shifted from the training camp and onwards, adapting to new surroundings like a chameleon. Is this a result of that? One thing is certain, he didn't expect the lack of reciprocation on Tsukishima's part to be the problem he brought up. 

Maybe Tsukishima hadn't either and that’s what he’s opening his mouth to say after Tadashi's lack of response had stained the air for too long. He doesn't know and never will because Tadashi's eyes move in order to stop looking at Tsukishima (and so they weren't waiting at his lips for the new sentence) and land on the moon.

Automatically his hand shoots out and grasps Tsukishima's wrist to draw his attention to the phenomenon, using his other hand to point up to where the partial shadow they had seen before was now almost fully blocking out the moon.

"Tsukki, look ." Is all he is able to get out, completely enraptured by the shadow inching its way over what had once been a shiny, silvery full mass in the sky. Tadashi is so caught up in the process that he doesn't notice how stiff his best friend has gone underneath his grasp, how he hasn't said anything even though he was going to, how his face has gone from surprised to confused to something... tender which is quickly hidden away by his usual expression of mild disinterest. Neither of them pull away.

They watch the moon in silence (Tsukishima finally looking to where Tadashi is pointing after recovering from his brief lapse in level-headedness), the sounds of their breathing filling the air shared between them. It takes a few minutes but finally the moon is almost completely covered, almost at the cusp of disappearing completely. Stars that lose luminescence when competing with the orbiting rock become a little bit brighter and some part of Tadashi aches to go back to the telescope for them in that small moment. He wonders if Tsukishima aches for that too. 

Then, red. 

It isn't theatrical like Tadashi realises he was expecting, doesn't send a shiver down his spine or set the world on fire like ancient societies might've thought, but it by no means disappoints. He hears a small sigh come from Tsukishima and remembers, almost violently so, that his hand is still around one of the blond's slender wrists, and tries to release it as slowly as possible, ignoring every impulse he has to jerk away-- he doesn't particularly want Tsukishima to figure out that any point of contact between them will start Tadashi down the path of regretting that he hadn't just gone the extra step, that he hadn't slipped his hand down to meet his best friend's, smoothing one palm over another until it was only natural for their fingers to intertwine. His fingers slip from their position and he's about to pull his arm back to his side when he feels a hand on his own wrist, warm despite the cool air.

Eyes darting to the point of contact and then to Tsukishima's face, he finds an unreadable expression there and his heart lurches forward, something he's sure the blond can feel underneath his fingertips. The question on his own features is clear for Tadashi himself, especially since he knows what he's asking, but for the sake of not letting Tsukishima avoid talking about it, he opens his mouth to speak and--

"I can always tell when you're looking at me, Yamaguchi," Tsukishima beats him to it as Tadashi locks up, heart pounding furiously now and palms starting to grow hot, itchy with discomfort. Mouth hanging open, Tadashi can only look at him. Tsukishima looks back. "I can always tell when you're looking at me, but you... you can never tell when I'm looking at you." And Tadashi can now see the pale spread of pink over his smooth skin, illuminated by the fiery moon. Maybe, he thinks, it's just the moonlight itself that's making the blond's cheeks look like that. But the moonlight doesn't make Tsukishima step forward the tiny bit that he does, cinching the space between them even tighter together, doesn't cause his lantern-like eyes to look so serious, and maybe even a little unsure. Later, Tadashi will think it was that tiny bit of nervousness on Tsukishima's part that made it easier for the words to come out of his closed up throat, no matter how poorly they conveyed his meaning, because, maybe, he was just as confused about what was going on as Tadashi.

"Tsukki?" He finally gets out, head tilting upwards and eyebrows furrowing. His voice sounds weak to his own ears, cautious, and suddenly he wishes that his love was more like a jump float serve (probably he would've laughed at that thought if he wasn't in his current situation-- just a few months prior love being like a jump float would've been just as terrifying, if not more so). At least then he would know how to get started.

"Your heartbeat is really fast right now." Tsukishima says, a bit teasingly, all things considered, squeezing his wrist slightly as if to prove a point, which he does. Really does. Tadashi can hear the hummingbird cadence of his own heart so loudly in his ears that he nearly winces. His mind is a complete and total blank, like someone came in and erased the whiteboard in his head of all complete thoughts and languages. Does he even trust himself to speak Japanese?

"I-I'm nervous," He states, decidedly trying to look as un-nervous as possible. Judging by Tsukishima's raised eyebrows, it doesn't work very well. His expression is also an unspoken question, one that Tadashi takes a moment to answer. If this is what he thinks it is, if it's real and not some sort of messed up fever dream that he'll wake up from in a few seconds, then he knows he should tell him. Should try and get out all of the things he can't stop thinking about and see if Tsukishima might not know how to deal with them a little better. Tadashi trusts Tsukishima with his life, something the blond probably already knows, but would Tsukishima even want to be trusted with his heart? He takes a deep breath and continues, "Because I, uh, um..." The words are sticking to the back of his throat and he has to look away from the other boy's face since that's overwhelming him too, head turned slightly to the side. Tadashi opens his mouth to try--

Tsukishima kisses his cheek.

Tsukishima kisses his cheek.

It's a brief brush of soft, slightly chapped lips against the freckled skin of his right cheekbone and it sets every single one of his nerve endings on fire. Going completely still, Tadashi's gaze whips right back to Tsukishima who is looking equal parts nervous and hopeful and is definitely blushing. "You--" Tadashi cuts himself off as he raises his unoccupied hand to touch the spot where the phantom kiss still lingers. He doesn't know if he's breathing, doesn't know if he remembers how.

"I should've bought chocolates but I thought the blood moon would be romantic enough." Tsukishima says, looking a bit displeased with himself and then at Tadashi knowingly. The conversation he and Yachi had comes back to him and so do the nerves from earlier. He had heard, of course he had heard. Tadashi would say something about it if his brain wasn't so busy shouting 'It's a confession!', his entire face splitting into a grin that can rival the sun in luminosity and he barrels forward to give the blond a hug, nearly overbalancing them both-- a feat only avoided because Tsukishima puts a foot behind himself to keep steady as soon as he realises what Tadashi is planning to do. 

It’s really more of a one armed affair since Tsukishima hasn't let go of his wrist and there’s no way that Tadashi will be the first to break that point of contact, his free arm coming up to wrap around the taller boy's neck, head buried in its crook. It’s very likely that he can feel the way his face is burning on the exposed skin there, but Tsukishima doesn't mention it and just hugs him back (as best as he can, seeing as now he has slipped his hand from Tadashi's wrist and is moving to clasp his hand, an easily accomplished goal if there ever was one), a warm, warm arm firmly around his waist like how its happened one hundred times before. Something is different, pleasantly, blessedly different because this time, Tadashi knows that he isn't the only one who can feel every single point of contact between them, he isn't alone in his feelings.

“This is a confession.” Is all Tadashi says.

“That it is, Yamaguchi.” Is all Tsukishima has to. 

"You like me." Is the only thing he can come up with, pure and unadulterated giddiness overwhelming him.

"I do." Tsukishima murmurs before they fall quiet again.

He tries to commit the silence to memory, the feeling of Tsukishima’s jacket against his overheated skin, all the words crammed into the spaces between where their actual sentences end and start becoming thoughts. "I like you a lot, Tsukki. I mean, so much." Tadashi knows his words are muffled from where his head is, but he also knows that Tsukishima has heard him because he hums softly in acknowledgement. He plans on saving the whole being in love thing for later, the fear of rejection, lessening by the developments taking place, still thrums in its vibrancy from its place in his DNA.

"I know. You aren't very subtle." This is said a lot quieter, seemingly even more private than a conversation in an empty park is to begin with. He can hear the laughter in his voice. If the wind picks up just a little bit then the words might be lost to time and the night sky. But as it is, Tadashi hears every syllable with perfect clarity. His heart feels full when he chuckles as well, acknowledging what he already knows. It's completely and utterly bursting at the seams with how much is packed inside. He peels himself away from Tsukishima just enough so that he can look at him face-to-face, take in the blush that he hasn't projected (and probably never had in the first place), the fluidity of his eyes, the delicate angles of his cheekbones and jaw, the plush of his lips. Tsukishima Kei liked Tadashi, he had said so himself.

"You have to thank Yachi for the idea, Tsukki. That's who you got it from, right?" Tadashi asks, leaning upwards so that his lips are inches away from Tsukishima's and can feel the small puff of his brand of laughter against them, see the shape of his not-quite-smirk kind-of-smile up close. 

“Yeah," He almost seems sheepish. Tadashi finds him overwhelmingly adorable. "And I will. For the bruise I got from that pole, too.” Ah, he hadn't told him that it had left a mark-- he makes a mental note to ask about it later. Right now, though, he can only really focus on the fact that all Tsukishima needs to do is lean down a little bit and their lips would brush in a way that Tadashi has been resigned to go a lifetime without knowing. Finally, finally , he closes that last little bit of distance.

When they meet, Tadashi thinks that the blood moon really is the end of the world as he knows it.