Chapter Text
As a kid, it had taken Tsukishima a while, several months in fact, to admit to himself that Yamaguchi was his friend.
At first, he had merely thought of Yamaguchi as “not annoying.” Most people were annoying. Yamaguchi was not. Like most kids, he had been intimidated by Tsukishima at first, but he had never been outright afraid of him the way some kids were. And he seemed to have quickly picked up on Tsukishima’s wry sense of humor. He liked to talk, but he also knew when to be quiet. He laughed at Tsukishima’s jokes and openly admitted that he thought Tsukishima was the coolest kid in school which inflated his ego a bit. But it wasn’t the flattery Tsukishima admired as much as the blatant sincerity. Yamaguchi was an open book, honest to a fault, and easy to read. And he settled comfortably into Tsukishima’s life in a way no other kid ever had. It wasn’t that he enjoyed spending time with Yamaguchi. It was just that he…wasn’t annoying. And if he wasn’t annoying, what did it matter to Tsukishima if he hung around all the time?
But a few months into their friendship, Tsukishima had begrudgingly admitted to himself that, yes, Yamaguchi was really and truly his friend. And, yes, he actually did enjoy spending time with him…although he’d never admit something so lame out loud. It kind of dawned on him one day when he realized that Yamaguchi had been calling him “Tsukki” for weeks. It was a dumb, cutesy nickname, the kind other kids, kids that weren’t like him, would give to their friends. And, yeah, it was dumb. And, yeah, it sounded girly. But…Tsukishima didn’t really mind. And, if he didn’t mind, that must mean that Yamaguchi really was his friend.
An aggravating realization really.
In the years since, Tsukishima had been forced to come to terms with the fact that, not only was Yamaguchi his friend, he was really and truly his best friend. He was such a part of Tsukishima’s life at this point that he almost felt innate, like oxygen or gravity or something. Something inescapably necessary.
Tsukishima sometimes wondered if Yamaguchi felt the same way about their friendship, if it was as fundamental, as crucial as it was to himself. Yamaguchi certainly had other friends now. Tsukishima wasn’t his only avenue for companionship anymore which is kind of how it had felt for a while when they were little. At this point he could easily find other people to fill the roles Tsukki had filled if he wanted to. But, despite that fact, Yamaguchi kept choosing to rely on Tsukki. And, though he’d never admit it, that made Tsukishima feel pretty proud. It was him that Yamaguchi came to with his troubles, not someone nicer like Hinata, or even someone nicer who actually had a brain, like Sugawara.
And so, it was Tsukishima who was begrudgingly half-listening to Yamaguchi moan about his jump float serve and how he couldn’t seem to aim it accurately no matter how much he tried.
“I spent like a whole hour after practice yesterday at Shimada’s just working on that Tsukki,” Yamaguchi whined, his hands pulling frustratedly at his frayed sweatshirt sleeves, “but I didn’t even get one to go where I wanted.”
“Isn’t the entire point of a jump floater that no one is supposed to know where it’s going?” Tuskki asked flatly, already thoroughly bored with this conversation.
“Well, yeah, the other team’s not supposed to know where it’s going, but I’m supposed to know, at least generally, where it’s gonna end up!”
This conversation had been going on, essentially on a loop, since they left school, and Tsukishima was getting really annoyed at this point. But Yamaguchi seemed really, actually upset, more upset than he normally got about stuff like this. He slumped dejectedly as they walked, hands now shoved into the pockets of his uniform pants. His face was an angry red, and his eyes had that shimmery look they sometimes got right before he started crying. Even his freckles looked droopy.
Shit, Tsukki thought. This was ridiculous, really. Yamaguchi would improve his serve soon, just like he had improved it in the past. He worked insanely hard, and he was talented. And he’d probably have a breakthrough in, like, a couple days.
That’s probably the kind of thing you should say out loud, he thought to himself. But the idea of voicing something so blatantly obvious made his head hurt.
“I wanna go to the park,” he said instead, jerking his head toward the little park they passed every day on the way home.
Without waiting for an answer, Tsukishima turned sharply and headed into the park. He didn’t look back, but he could hear the crunch of Yamaguchi’s footsteps behind him. They walked silently along the little mulch-covered path towards the center of the park. It was just a ring of benches surrounding a run-down slide and swing set. But the trees around them were thickly planted and provided a pleasant dappling of shade. And the puny flower beds were actually really pretty.
Tsukki particularly liked the little bed to the right of the bench they sat down on. The flowers were a pleasant reddish-peach color that reminded him of strawberry shortcake. He’d looked them up once. Fritillaria imperialis. The crown imperial. The way their flowers drooped elegantly to the side while their green leaves stuck straight up reminded him of Yamaguchi’s hair.
Yamaguchi was sitting rather close to him. He tended to be a bit clingier when he was sad. Tsukki didn’t really mind…which was another thing he’d had to come to terms with. He hated when people touched him…but he didn’t mind when it was Yamaguchi.
Tsukki slid even closer, pressing the sides of their thighs together and bumping Yamaguchi’s shoulder with his own. There was a long line of warmth from his knee to his shoulder now. When they sat like this it always seemed like that warmth slowly infused into the rest of Tsukki’s body, leaving him feeling pleasantly calm. Deep down he kinda hoped it did the same for Yamaguchi. His best friend looked up at him when they sat down, wide brown eyes still shining slightly. But he didn’t say anything.
They sat in silence for several minutes, Yamaguchi fiddling dejectedly with his phone and Tsukki thumbing through his iPod. It took him a minute, but he finally found what he was looking for.
“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked softly when he felt Tsukki’s headphones settle over his ears.
“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki muttered, although there was no sharpness to his tone. As he pulled his hands away, he ghosted the pad of his thumb over Yamaguchi’s cheek, tracing almost imperceptibly across freckled skin.
“Gomen, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said. He smiled then, eyes and nose crinkling in tandem as he did. Some of his freckles folded in on themselves when he smiled like that.
When in hell did you start noticing the way his freckles fold?
He fisted his hands in his lap and resisted the sudden urge to reach out and touch them again.
Tutting slightly under his breath he grabbed the iPod roughly, and turned on the song he had selected. It wasn’t a song he listened to often himself. His musical tastes were eclectic, ranging from heavy metal to alt rock to the occasional jazz or classical. But this song was gentle and folksy. He couldn’t really remember what the words said. They were pretty nonsensically poetic, and he had only listened to it a couple of times. He’d only saved it in the first place because it had reminded him so forcefully of Yamaguchi: aggravatingly sincere and yet oddly calming all at once.
As he listened, Yamaguchi turned and leaned his head gently against Tsukki’s shoulder. Tsukishima closed his eyes as they sat and let the warm feeling from Yamaguchi’s touch suffuse through him.
Tsukishima didn’t know if he was the best person to be Yamaguchi’s best friend. He could admit to himself that he was a bit rough around the edges. He was blunt to a fault, and he wasn’t great at talking about emotional shit. And yet, for some bizarre reason, Yamaguchi seemed to have chosen him above all the other easier and more qualified options. And, on days like today, when Tsukki got to sit close to him, got to bathe in his warmth and closeness and watch the way his face lit up listening to a sappy song, it was easy to admit that Yamaguchi was his best friend. And it was even easier to be stupidly happy about that fact.