Archive of Our Own

The day they find out about Akiteru, Tadashi follows Kei home.

Or… that isn’t the right way to put it. The day they find out about Akiteru, Tadashi drags Kei home.

Kei doesn’t want him to. Or Kei wouldn’t want him to if his brain was working, but the second he made eye contact with Akiteru from across the gym, Tadashi saw his mind freeze up, saw the way his face went slack.

It’s funny. Tadashi’s been friends with Kei for a little more than half a year, which he knows isn’t that long compared to how long some of the kids in his class have known each other even though it feels like it’s been his entire life, but they’ve spent so much time together Tadashi feels like he knows everything there is to know about Kei. Knows him better than he knows himself, sometimes.

But Kei’s mouth, a lifeless line with no hint of a frown or even amusement at the corners. His eyebrows raised in shock and left slack there, instead of betraying any confusion or irritation or hate. Pupils so huge and so empty Tadashi could see himself reflected in them a million times before he sees a hint of Kei in them.

Tadashi didn’t even know that he could make a face like that.

He grabs Kei’s wrist by instinct the second he sees it, immediately brushes off Endo who he’s always thought was a little annoying but hates today, and pulls Kei out of the bleachers, leads him without a word to the train station. The walk is long and the silence around them is loud, the same kind of silence as the one that used to surround Tadashi when he’d eat lunch alone while he watched all the kids around him talk happily with each other.

Kei doesn’t notice it, though. Kei is a little limp, like a doll, and he stumbles after him clumsily. Tadashi’s dragged him places before (the movie theater, WcDonald’s, the park for extra practice) and he’s always been easy to lead around when Tadashi wants to, but it’s never been like this. Like there’s no one inside of him.

It’s scary, but Tadashi swallows the fear because he knows it’s worse for Kei, can remember every dazzled comment from his usually laconic best friend perfectly because it’s only because of those comments that they got to know each other.

The feelings that were based on a lie. Maybe that says something about them. Tadashi tries not to think about it.

When the train finally pulls up to the station and they take seats next to each other, Kei on the end of the bench next to the railing and Tadashi maybe too close to his side, he hears Kei exhale, the sound heavy and soft.

Tadashi freezes for a second, scared it’s the precursor to… something. He isn’t sure what. Kei being mad at him for… taking him home, or telling him how much he hates Akiteru now, or doing that thing he does where something really irritates him and he says horrible mean pessimistic things that cut to Tadashi’s chest even if they aren’t really directed at him. But a moment passes, and Kei doesn’t say a word, and Tadashi doesn’t really understand.

He glances over at Kei, then, and notices his face has changed. His eyes are cloudy and fixed to the floor beneath them, and his mouth is curved downwards at the corner, so slightly Tadashi wouldn’t notice it if he didn’t know him so well.

It’s not empty, which is better, Kei being able to think now, but he’s thinking too much. Tadashi knows. The kind of person Kei is, the storm Tadashi can catch glimpses of behind his pupils.

Tadashi needs to say something. When Kei is quiet because he’s tired or just because he likes being quiet, Tadashi usually leaves him alone, but when his eyes get dark like this, he always tries to fill the silence with something else, to get his mind off it.

He could do that now. He can feel the sentence on the tip of his tongue. Endo-kun’s really annoying, huh?

But maybe it isn’t right. Usually Kei gets like that when he thinks he was too mean and hurt Tadashi’s feelings (which is almost impossible, now, how well Tadashi knows him – he knows when he says things that he means), but this… isn’t about him. This is bigger than him, Kei’s brother, who he always talks about like he hangs the stars in the sky every night. Who’s the reason he even plays volleyball. That’s…

(He could quit floats across Tadashi’s mind. It’s the kind of thought that squeezes Tadashi’s chest, volleyball practice without his best friend but— it’s selfish. Tadashi shouldn’t be thinking about himself right now.)

If Tadashi says something, maybe he should actually say something. Maybe there’s a reason, Kei-kun. Or he just wasn’t playing today. Maybe—

He looks at Kei. His face is still the same. Everything Tadashi wants to say is wrong. Or… even if he could think of the right thing, maybe he still wouldn’t be able to say it.

The look on his face. Akiteru.

It’s been more than a half a year, but Tadashi can still remember, because he’ll never forget. The kids that called him weak and a coward until the sadness came wailing out of him, until it came leaking out of his eyes. He thought they were right, then. Still wonders if they’re right, sometimes.

The way he feels right now. They probably are.

Tadashi exhales, and when he does, he feels Kei shift in his seat, just a little. It’s the first time he’s moved since they sat down, and Tadashi prepares himself again for Kei to say something, or at least to say something himself, but before anything happens, the name of their station blares from the train’s speakers as it pulls to a stop.

They both stand up, Kei moving on his own now instead of Tadashi tugging him along, and he follows behind him like a shadow. When they get out of the station, instead of turning to go back to his house like he usually does, Tadashi finally says, “I’m going over to your place today. I wanna, uh…”

Tadashi swallows. He made that decision really quickly and didn’t really think it over. Even on days he only wants to stay over because he’s bored, he comes up with an excuse, and today Kei is… everything that happened with Kei, and…

“Okay,” Kei says, not bothering to turn around, and it isn’t really anything, but it’s the first thing that he’s said since the gymnasium, and Tadashi’s chest feels a little bit lighter.

When they get to his house, Akiteru isn’t there, luckily, and Tadashi tries a little bit more. Kei still doesn’t say much; he doesn’t usually talk when they’re alone if Tadashi isn’t making conversation, though Tadashi does know that it’s more than just that. but when they’re doing homework and Tadashi doesn’t really understand a question, he asks Kei for help.

He’s blunter than he usually is, immediately goes back to what he’s doing when he thinks Tadashi understands, but it’s more than Tadashi wanted, more than he even imagined when he was sitting next to him on the subway. Kei treating him like this.

(And maybe Tadashi fakes misunderstanding things one or two times, but he can’t make himself feel bad about it. Not with the swirling in Tadashi’s chest while Kei takes the time to explain something to him.)

Kei finishes his homework before Tadashi, sits on his bed and plays Poraemon while Tadashi keeps working at his desk. When he finishes, Tadashi thinks about asking him to play a match with him, but he knows Kei doesn’t really like it since he usually beats Tadashi so easily (even though he did come close to winning a couple of times), so he holds back.

Instead, he climbs on the bed and sits next to Kei.

It’s closer than they are most days, and Tadashi hesitates before he takes the spot on the bed by him, but he thinks to himself that maybe this is what he should today. Instead of trying to talk. Kei knows him really well, too, and notices things about people he’s just met. He’ll know what it means, Tadashi thinks. His weight next to him.

Kei glances over at Tadashi when he sits down, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move over and try to maintain the distance between them. Tadashi thinks to himself that there’s something calming in the way the music from their game systems clashes, even though it annoys him most of the time. Kei doesn’t complain about it like he usually does. Maybe that’s what’s calming. Tadashi isn’t sure.

They stay there without talking until the sun disappears from outside the window, until Tadashi knows he needs to go home or he won’t go home at all. And that’s— an option, Tadashi thinks, and Kei is acting so passive he might let Tadashi do it, but his mom doesn’t like when he stays over on weekdays, and… more than that. He’s asked a lot of Kei already.

There’s a chance, Tadashi knows. That it might be the final straw and Kei might blow up. He’s seen it happen to people who irritated him enough, the scathing words that came out of the mouth of his best friend, and…

And Tadashi isn’t really afraid of whatever Kei might say to him if he’s mad, because he knows they’re best friends and things are just hard for him now because of what just happened with Akiteru, but… that’s it, probably. Why he can’t ask or handle him blowing up. He hasn’t even done anything today and Tadashi hasn’t figured out how to make him really feel better, so he has to at least not make him feel worse. Even if he is scared of leaving Kei alone, the way he gets when he overthinks.

Tadashi breathes out as he closes his PS and puts it down on the bed, too loudly. “I, um… I should go home now.”

“Mm,” Kei says, and for the first time that afternoon, it’s not enough. Not when Kei’s going to be alone the entire night after his whole world just shattered.

Tadashi needs to say something to Kei. Something to remind him that he’s his best friend no matter what, something to confirm that their relationship at least will be the same tomorrow, but before he can think of anything, the door to Kei’s room opens, and he hears Akiteru’s voice.

“Kei, I— Oh, hi, Tadashi. I need to… Kei, can we talk?”

Tadashi is scared to look at Kei, but he does, and the eyes that softened with every glance Tadashi snuck from behind his PS have turned an ice-cold shade of pitch-black. “It’s late,” Kei says. “I’m walking Tadashi-kun home.”

There’s no emotion in Kei’s voice. The quiet admiration from before, the secret affection. It’s gone completely. That’s…

It’s not really Tadashi’s business.

“Oh. I’ll… wait until you come back, then.”

Kei doesn’t grace Akiteru with an answer. Tadashi is afraid to look at Akiteru’s face, even imagine it, and he only looks up, gets up from the bed when he hears the sound of Kei’s door shut.

“Um… Were you telling the truth, Kei-kun?” he finally asks as he puts his PS back in his backpack and slings it over his back. “You’re really walking me home?”

It hurts, somehow. The entire thing Tadashi just witnessed, and that he’s walking him home. The walk back alone has always been what Tadashi hated the most, the reason he spends most of his Friday nights on the floor of Kei’s room, and if things were different, he’d be ecstatic. Instead…

Tadashi isn’t sure.

“Of course,” Kei replies, voice warmer than it was with Akiteru but still cold. “I don’t lie.”

Oh, Tadashi thinks.

Kei’s walked him home before; for a while, Tadashi pretended to be afraid of the dark until he felt too bad about it. He remembers the easy conversation they’d made on those walks, the way he’d sometimes laugh or smile at his offhand comments, how close he’d stand to him at stoplights so he wouldn’t be scared.

But this is different. The atmosphere is oppressive, and even though Tadashi keeps thinking to himself he needs to say something, he wouldn’t be able to even if he knew what to say.

He’s thinking about this when he jerks back suddenly as he’s walking, and when he yelps and looks up, he sees the glowing red hand in the light by the crosswalk and Kei at his side, grabbing him by his backpack. “Oh, uh… Thanks, Kei-kun.”

Kei doesn’t say anything for an entire block, and Tadashi almost gets so lost in thought again he forgets the interaction, but before he can, Kei says, “I’m worried about all the times I let you walk home alone.”

It takes a while for Tadashi to parse it, because it’s most Kei has said to him basically unprompted this entire afternoon, but he laughs when he does, even if his laugh is awful and forced and a single strange sound. “Yeah,” Tadashi says, forcing enthusiasm because he can’t even force a normal reply.

Kei made a joke. Tadashi can’t respond to it the way he would normally, but maybe it’s enough. Kei making a joke. Even if he is using him as an excuse to get away from his brother right now, maybe this won’t affect them.

The rest of the walk is quiet, but it’s more comfortable somehow, and Kei walks him all the way to the door of his building, tells him good night before he turns around to go back to his house.

“Good night,” Tadashi says, and he almost leaves it at that, but Kei’s back is scary as it gets smaller, as the thought of it getting covered in darkness starts to fill his mind. For the first time that afternoon, before Kei gets farther than closer, Tadashi finally finds the strength to say something that matters and yells out, “Kei-kun!”

“Tadashi-kun?”

Kei turns around immediately, and it’s hard to look at him while he says it, but Tadashi knows he has to, even if it is only for himself, and says, “I know that… everything, but…! Kei-kun, you’ll be at morning practice tomorrow, right?”

He’s being selfish, Tadashi thinks to himself the second it leaves his mouth. As he watches Kei just look at him from halfway across his building’s front yard. He should’ve said something nice about Akiteru, or about how he would always be his friend, but instead the only thing that he can force out of his mouth is about him. Whether or not he’ll see him again, in the same way.

But before Tadashi can wallow in it even more, Kei says, “I will,” and that quickly, it all disappears. The worry that’d been clouding his chest, the fear at the thought of tomorrow. No matter how Kei feels, he… doesn’t want it to change things between them. That’s… Tadashi can barely believe it.

Even though Tadashi shouldn’t, even though this is probably the worst night of Kei’s life, Tadashi feels himself smile.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

Kei doesn’t take the dinosaurs off the shelf in his room. Every time Tadashi goes inside, it’s the first thing he notices.

Akiteru gave them to him. Tadashi knows because he thought they were funny the first time he saw them, thought Kei would be the kind of person to think things like that were childish, and he asked Kei about them.

Kei’d beamed at Tadashi in the way only he can beam, with the corners of his mouth turned up just a tiny bit in a way you’ll only notice if you know him really well, and bragged about them being a gift from his older brother, the one who plays ace on Karasuno’s volleyball team.

That part is hard to think about, but Tadashi can remember the rest of it, too. Kei taking all of them off his shelf and explaining them to him, what kind of dinosaurs they were, what they ate, where they lived. It was the first time Tadashi heard him talk so much about something that wasn’t Akiteru, and he remembers how excited it made him, even if he always cared more about superheroes than dinosaurs.

It’s a nice memory, especially now. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Kei get excited about anything. He’s still in volleyball club, but even though it wasn’t like he was the most enthusiastic player on the team before, he still was enthusiastic, still couldn’t hide his smiles when they won or acted off when they lost, and now he’s…

That horrible face Kei made when they saw Akiteru in the bleachers. Like there’s no one in him. He cared before. Tadashi knows it.

Still, Kei is… doing his best to keep things the same with Tadashi, at least. Tadashi knows that, too, because he knows him. Their relationship’s changed a little because of the way Kei is now – sometimes he’s short with him in a way he never was before, when Tadashi asks him to do extra practice with him at the park, when Tadashi rambles too much even though he knows Kei’s in a bad mood – but the things that matter haven’t changed.

Kei says no when Tadashi asks to go somewhere with him more than he did before, but he still lets him come over whenever he wants (which is more than he used to, since he doesn’t like leaving him alone too long) and spend all his free time talking to him.

He lets him stay next to him. Since the beginning, that’s all Tadashi’s ever really wanted.

But… even though Tadashi is selfish, he knows, too. That everything Kei is going through isn’t just about him. That everything isn’t fine just because their friendship is.

Following him home every day and talking so much all that time that Kei starts telling him to shut up… Tadashi is trying to make him feel better – if Kei is annoyed at Tadashi, he’s not being broken up about Akiteru lying to him – but sometimes. Every time they’re at practice together and Kei’s block gets smashed through during a three-on-three and he doesn’t do anything more than click his tongue. Tadashi wonders if he’s helping at all.

He’s only Tadashi, and it doesn’t have that much to do with him, but even though that’s true, Tadashi hates it. Want to be able to talk to him about it, ask why he’s so mad at Akiteru, tell him he understands why Akiteru did what he did, just a little, because he remembers the stars that used to be in Kei’s eyes, but…

Kei is… They’ll always be friends, Tadashi thinks, because they’re still friends now through everything that happened, that’s happening, but Kei doesn’t want to hear what Tadashi has to say. Kei wants to pretend it never happened. And it isn’t good for him, Tadashi knows, but…

That Kei is still in volleyball club, that Kei is working so hard to keep their relationship the same, it’s because he wants to act like everything is fine, and it would hurt Tadashi, losing that. Morning practice without him, playing every game and him not being on the court, and… Tadashi is selfish. Tadashi is selfish, so he doesn’t yell at Kei that it’s obvious from the dinosaurs on his shelf that he misses his older brother, that he should give up whatever he’s doing and talk to Akiteru again because he’s only making himself feel worse.

Instead, he spends every second he can standing next to him and hopes it’s enough.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

“Morning, Yamaguchi,” Kei says at practice one morning, and the sound of it hurts like a bee sting, a weird kind of absent pain.

The first time Tadashi said Kei’s name, he’d kind of known him already from being in school with him for four years, the tall guy in class who used to kind of scare him but now was so cool he could get rid of the kids who’d been tormenting him all year with just a couple of words, and he got overexcited and called him by his first name. Like they were close, even though it was their first real conversation.

He’d gotten embarrassed immediately, then scared after a second, because Kei hated most people and he’d been lucky so far but maybe this would get him mad, but instead of correcting him or making fun of him for being overfamiliar, Kei said, You don’t need to apologize, Tadashi-kun.

And it’d been then, that Tadashi realized. He’d never need to be afraid of Kei, because he wasn’t a bad person, and he was his friend. And he is his friend.

But now he calls him Yamaguchi.

It… could be worse. Kei is doing this on purpose, trying to distance himself from him, Tadashi knows, but earlier this morning he wasn’t even sure Kei would be at practice, so it’s better than it could be. Even if he hates hearing the way his last name sounds in Kei’s voice this much.

Yesterday afternoon, they’d been eating oranges in Kei’s kitchen, absently listening to the radio Kei’s mom left on when she went to the grocery store. It’d been a good afternoon, Kei letting Tadashi get away with more things than usual – he went to the bookstore with him so he could pick up the new volume of a manga he likes – which is probably why Tadashi let his guard down.

The radio mentioned a meteor shower on Saturday night, and Tadashi said, That’s really cool! Kei-kun, you should ask Akiteru-san if—

And then he saw the look on Kei’s face, realized what he was saying, and closed his mouth.

It was nice; for a second, Tadashi forgot everything that happened and thought all three of them could go out and look at the sky with Akiteru’s telescope like they always did. But it wasn’t worth the silence that came after.

They’d said something else on the radio then, something about an actor turning down a role, and when Tadashi tried to use it to change the subject, Kei cut him off and said, I’m tired. You should go home.

And… maybe if Tadashi argued with him, found some excuse to stay, or actually said something, like he’s wanted to for ages, Kei wouldn’t be calling him Yamaguchi today. But it’d been the first time since Akiteru that Kei asked him to go home, so frankly like that, so all he said was Okay.

But Kei is here. Kei is at practice with him, Kei greeted him like he always does. They’re still friends. Kei is being stupid now, has been being stupid since they found out about Akiteru, and the stupid part of him convinced him he wants to distance himself from Tadashi, but… even though that happened. This is the most he can bring himself to do. Call him Yamaguchi instead of Tadashi.

Tadashi knows they’ll never stop being friends, no matter what Kei calls him. He’s known that since he heard Kei say I will when he was standing at the doorstep of his apartment building.

Even though it hurts a little bit now. It’ll hurt more later if he lets this kill him.

(Tadashi’s never been that weak, anyway.)

“Morning, Tsukishima!” Tadashi says, ignoring the taste of iron in his mouth.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

“You aren’t mad at me, too, are you, Tadashi?”

It’s a few days later, and Tadashi is in Akiteru’s room, standing next to him as he sits at his desk. He’d caught him as he came out of the bathroom, beckoned him over, and he felt too awkward ignoring him, has been feeling bad for him for weeks, so he came over. Tsukishima is reading the new volume of Regional Geographic, anyway, so he probably won’t notice if Tadashi is gone for a little longer than usual.

He shakes his head, maybe too hesitantly, but Akiteru just laughs. “I guess you wouldn’t come if you were. Ah, Kei-kun is still talking to you, isn’t he? Did he… Has he said anything about me?”

Tadashi doesn’t really like being in Akiteru’s room. He’s never been here this long before. “No,” he replies, and then swallows, “but… if he did, I…”

I wouldn’t tell you. Tadashi can’t bring himself to say it out loud, because Tsukishima is his best friend and he lost his mind worrying that Tsukishima wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore that first afternoon they found out, and Tsukishima actually stopped talking to Akiteru. But Akiteru hears what he meant anyway. He laughs again, more forced than before, and leans forward to ruffle his hair. “You’re a good friend,” he says. “Thank you for being friends with him. I would be worried if he was alone.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Akiteru-san,” Tadashi says, and Akiteru grins even wider. Tadashi wonders how long he’s been here. It feels like hours. “Um… Why did you want to talk to me?”

“Oh. Well… I know he hasn’t talked to you about me,” Akiteru says, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I was wondering… My little brother is awful, but he’s my little brother, and I… miss him. You still talk, right? Have you… Do you think there’s anything I could do that would make him forgive me?”

Akiteru won’t look at him. He doesn’t want to be doing this, Tadashi suddenly realizes, wants to be here even less than Tadashi wants to be, but he’s… out of options. He’s desperate.

Tadashi would be, too.

“There’s a meteor shower starting Saturday night. You should… ask us to watch it with you,” Tadashi says, and it’s a terrible idea, maybe, Tsukishima started calling him Yamaguchi over it, but…

The look on Akiteru’s face. The dinosaurs on Tsukishima’s shelf. That it affected Tsukishima so much. Tadashi knows he misses him, and if there’s a chance it’ll fix what’s wrong between them, what’s wrong with Tsukishima, they need to at least try.

Even if there’s a chance Tsukishima might be mad at him because of it. Tadashi knows already. That no matter what, they’ll always be friends.

Akiteru’s eyes are wide, like he’s surprised Tadashi said anything at all. Tadashi wonders if he thought he’d tell him it was a lost cause, if he was just going to give up on everything today. He wonders if he’s just giving him false hope.

But that’s stupid. They have to try.

“Do you… Do you think he’ll say yes?” Akiteru asks, and his voice is strange, kind of thin.

Tadashi feels himself frown, looks down at the floor. “He… probably won’t, but…”

“Mm. I’ll ask you two tomorrow,” Akiteru says. “Oh… Thank you, Tadashi. It means a lot that you’d help me with this.”

With a nod, Tadashi stumbles out of the room.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

They’re watching a documentary on manatees in Tsukishima’s living room when they hear the front door open and Akiteru’s voice say, “I’m home.”

“Welcome home, Akiteru-san,” Tadashi says when Tsukishima ignores him, instinctively nods at Akiteru’s thanks even though he can’t see him. He turns his attention back to the television, but before he can get back into the documentary, he feels Akiteru sit next to him.

On his other side, Tadashi sees Tsukishima stiffen. He knows something’s going to happen, Tadashi thinks. Akiteru usually goes to his room immediately after he gets home.

It doesn’t really matter. Whether or not Tsukishima’s off-guard, or already in a good mood. Just the thought of Akiteru can change it in a second – Tadashi saw it firsthand – and it’s actually Akiteru in the room with them, so… it’ll probably be extreme, whatever happens. But Tadashi is fine with it; he’s been preparing himself for it all day.

Although… with Akiteru sitting next to him, he can’t really help it. The rising in his chest he told himself not to feel. The little bit of hope.

“The sky is terrifying today,” Akiteru says. “Hard to believe it’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow.”

Tsukishima ignores him again. “Yeah,” Tadashi replies. It’d been cloudy when they were walking home, too. Maybe it’s gotten worse. It doesn’t really matter, either way.

“What are you watching?”

“Regional Geographic,” Tadashi answers him. “It’s about manatees.”

“Ah, I think we saw those the last time we went to the aquarium in Sendai. Kei liked them a lot. Right, Kei?” he asks, forcing a grin as he turns to glance at Kei, who doesn’t look back.

“You’re thinking of the sea lions,” Tsukishima replies, and his voice is stilted and more annoyed than Tadashi’s ever heard it, and there’s a definite go away beneath his words, but the way Akiteru smiles when he hears it, it’s probably the most he’s said to him since that afternoon.

“Oh. That, uh, reminds me, Kei, I wanted to ask… There’s a meteor shower on Saturday night, right? Do the two of you want to—”

“I’m not interested,” Tsukishima says immediately, reaching for the remote and increasing the volume on the television.

“But—”

“Nii-san,” Tsukishima says, and there’s venom in his voice even as he still doesn’t turn to look at him, “leave me alone.”

Tadashi hates this. Tadashi wishes he wasn’t here, wishes he didn’t have to see Tsukishima treat Akiteru like this, but this was his idea, and Akiteru is looking at him so desperately, and he’s been thinking so much about saying things that matter and being brave, and…

“But I… I really want to see it, Tsukishima!”

It’s those words that make Tsukishima turn, and for a second, Tadashi fantasizes about this being it, the pressure that Tsukishima finally needed to get out his weird funk, but then he sees the look in his eyes, and it’s like the world around them freezes.

His eyes are deep and bottomless and Tadashi expected to see something behind him when he spoke, anger or irritation, but when he looks into them, Tadashi sees the last thing he ever wanted to see in Tsukishima’s eyes. Because of him.

Hurt.

“If you want to see it so bad,” Tsukishima says, turning away from him, standing up and walking away, “go with him.”

As he grabs his jacket and walks out the door, Tsukishima doesn’t say goodbye.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

Akiteru is the first one to break their stunned silence, exhaling heavily.

“I think it started raining,” he says, standing up as he looks out the living room window. “You should go after him. He doesn’t want me to, anyway.”

Akiteru doesn’t sound that sad, doesn’t even sound frustrated, just… defeated. Maybe he doesn’t want to get emotional in front of Tadashi, but he’s strong, that he can do that. Hold it back. Right now, just thinking about the look on Tsukishima’s face, Tadashi wants to…

Ah. He doesn’t want to do this around Akiteru, either, doesn’t want him to see what’s blurring his vision, but before he can hide his eyes, Akiteru turns around from turning off the television and his face falls into a pronounced frown.

“Hey,” Akiteru says, putting his hands on his head, ruffling his hair too hard, “it’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I… know Kei really well, you know? He’s a good kid, even if… Oh, uh…”

Akiteru walks away, then, the comforting weight on Tadashi’s head gone, and he almost feels bad again, but before he can, Akiteru comes back and hands him an umbrella.

“If you go after him now, he’ll forgive you. He wouldn’t… He’s a good kid. He likes you.”

That’s… Tadashi remembers that day, when they were listening to the radio. Things might have been different then, if he was strong enough to follow after. He remembers thinking that, even if he wasn’t really sure. But if Akiteru’s saying that… “Do you— Do you really think so?”

“Honest. He’d forgive you even if you didn’t go after him,” Akiteru says, smiling at him gently. Tadashi wipes the tears from his face with the forearm of his other hand. “You might be his best friend, but I’m still his older brother. I know him better than anyone. Ah… at least for now.”

The umbrella is heavy in Tadashi’s hand, but he clutches it hard, steadies it with the grip of his fingers. He stands up, but before he can leave, Akiteru pats him on the head again.

“Sorry, Tadashi. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this. I knew he wouldn’t say yes, I just…”

Tadashi bites his lip, knows he has to say something now because Akiteru’s been saying things to him this whole time. It’s easier, somehow. Because of that. “You don’t have to say sorry, Akiteru-san. Um… just...” Tadashi’s fingers are white where he’s holding the umbrella. “Don’t give up on him.”

Akiteru grins, then, and there’s sadness in it, but it’s genuine, Tadashi thinks. More genuine than any other smile Akiteru’s shown him today. “Of course,” he says, and pushes him gently towards the door. “Now go find him, okay? It’s not good for him to be alone. Besides, he’s probably getting soaked.”

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

Tadashi finds Tsukishima at the park where they used to play volleyball together after practice, sitting on the swing-set and staring at the ground.

The sound of the rain around them is loud. Tsukishima doesn’t notice Tadashi as he approaches, just keeps staring at the ground as he weakly pushes himself forward and back. The sight is funny, somehow, despite everything. He always thought Tsukishima thought swing-sets were childish, and now he’s playing on one alone, trying to make himself feel better.

He wonders if when he was younger, Akiteru used to push him. But the thought is too sad, so he throws it away; he doesn’t need to be sad now.

Instead, Tadashi opens the umbrella – luckily the wind calmed down from when Tadashi just came out of the house so it doesn’t fly inside out – and holds it over Tsukishima. It’s pointless, maybe, because he’s soaked already, but… if he can stop Tsukishima from getting even more wet. It’s worth it, Tadashi thinks.

The movement is too much for Tsukishima not to notice, no matter how lost in thought he is. Tadashi watches as his eyebrows furrow when he looks up.

His eyes were blank when Tadashi came into the park, not angry or hurt like he expected, from the way he seemed before he left. Not crying, either, which Tadashi is grateful for, but he didn’t really think that would happen either; he’s not sure Tsukishima’s ever cried in his life. (And that’s funny, the thought of Tsukishima as a silent baby.)

Still, his eyes blank, like that afternoon in the bleachers. Tadashi would’ve preferred to see hurt in them, instead of absolutely nothing. It’s scary, the way Tsukishima looks when he shuts down.

But he isn’t like that anymore, when he looks up. His eyes light up at the sight of him, even though he’d been upset with him when he left, and Tadashi remembers what Akiteru told him. If you go after him, he’ll forgive you.

He remembers what he’d swore, the first time Tsukishima called him Yamaguchi. What he decided to trust in when he told Akiteru to try this stupid spur-of-the-moment plan. No matter what. They’ll always be friends.

“Yamaguchi,” he says when he looks up at him.

He’s waiting for him to say something, Tadashi realizes. For too long of a moment, he stumbles over his thoughts. All the things he’s wanted to say to him since that afternoon. The things he feels like he should say now.

I’m sorry, Tsukishima.

I’m your best friend. I’ll always be your best friend.

No matter what. If you still want to be mad. I’ll wait for you. Until you remember how to not be mad anymore.

Everything Tadashi wants to say to Tsukishima. Everything he wants Tsukishima to realize. He thinks he knows the shape of the words now, knows how to get it through Tsukishima’s head. But the way Tsukishima stormed out, before. The hurt Tadashi will never forget the look of in his eyes.

He can’t hear those things from him, the way he is now. He needs to realize them himself.

“It’s raining,” Tadashi replies.

Tsukishima just nods, then, breathes out as he goes back to staring at the ground, pushing himself weakly back and forth. It’s hard to watch, but Tsukishima’s eyes aren’t blank anymore, not like the time he dragged him home, and Tadashi still means it, what he didn’t say to him.

I’ll wait for you.

Tadashi keeps the umbrella steady over Tsukishima’s head, stops the rain from soaking him even more, and for the first time, it feels like enough.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

“Let’s go home,” Tsukishima finally says, and as he stands up, he takes the umbrella from Tadashi.

“Okay,” Tadashi says, starting to follow behind him, but Tsukishima turns around and grabs him by his upper arm.

“Yamaguchi,” he says, faking annoyance, but there’s no bite to it, something softer obvious underneath his tone, “come under it, too.”

“O-Oh,” Tadashi says, and there’s something nice about the way Tsukishima’s hand curls around his arm, even if his skin is cold and wet from the rain. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Tsukishima says, clicking his tongue.

≡≡ ≡≡ ≡≡

When they get back, Akiteru is hiding in his room, and Tsukishima gives Tadashi a huge pair of shorts and one of his old shirts, still big enough to fit him like a dress. There’s something comforting in how huge and warm it is, like a hug.

He’s sitting on Tsukishima’s bed, turned away from him while he changes and staring up at the dinosaurs on his shelf. Tsukishima can probably see him looking, but he doesn’t say anything.

It’s funny. They used to make him confused, and then sad, but there’s something beautiful, Tadashi thinks, looking at them now. That Tsukishima won’t take them down. The same way he can’t bring himself to stop being friends with Tadashi, even if he feels like he should. He can’t bring himself to stop being Akiteru’s little brother, either.

He’s thinking about this when he feels a towel being thrown around his head, feels long fingers rubbing his hair dry. “Yamaguchi.”

“Huh?”

“I… On Saturday. I can’t watch the meteor shower with you,” he says, still toweling Tadashi’s hair, “but… if you want to go with nii-san. I won’t be mad.”

That’s… Tadashi feels himself grin, something huge, feels his chest stir in a way he couldn’t imagine he’d be able to feel before that. “Thanks, Tsu—” Tadashi starts to say, and then cuts himself off. Doing something that feels as cold as calling him Tsukishima, in this moment that feels like sunlight. Tadashi can’t do it.

He thinks about what Tsukishima is saying now. That this is how he apologizes, how he tries to tell him he doesn’t mind that he still talks to Akiteru, even if he got so emotional before that he stormed out. He thinks about the distance Tsukishima convinced himself he needed to put between them. The one Tadashi knows he doesn’t want.

Taking the towel by his fingers, he pushes it off alongside Tsukishima’s hands and peeks up at him. Tsukishima’s eyebrows are furrowed now. It’s… cute, somehow. “Thanks, Tsukki!” Tadashi says, closing the distance.

“It’s— It’s fine, Yamaguchi,” he says, cheeks pink, unable to look at him as he puts the towel down on the bed.

Lightly, Tadashi laughs.

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“Kei…”

“Hm?”

“I was… a little scared to ask, before. But… what happened, that you suddenly decided to stop ignoring me? For a while, I was afraid we’d never talk again.”

“Oh.”

“…You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I… realized I was never really angry at you. I was only… It’s hard to explain. At training camp, I almost gave up on volleyball, but Yamaguchi yelled at me about pride, and…”

“Ah. So it’s because of that kid, huh.”

“I guess so. Why are you grinning like that?”

“Ha. Nothing. I’m just glad you two are friends.”

“I…”

“Huh?”

“I am, too.”

“Kei, are you blushing?”

“Shut up, nii-san.”