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The game has gone into its last set, Tsukishima’s legs are heavy. The sting in his palm is almost constant at this point. Tsukishima keeps his eyes trained on the ball currently on the other side of the net. The other team’s setter passes the ball to the left and Tsukishima gets ready to jump, bends his knees and leaps.
As the ball hits his hand he can’t help but look up into the stands at Kuroo who was supposed to be watching him, but instead had his attention turned towards his phone.
Tsukishima’s attention has been torn from the game and his landing.
His feet hit the ground and a pain shoots up through his leg. He crumples to the ground with a strangled sound. The pain is overwhelming; he barely notices his teammates flocking around him, his eyes still focused on Kuroo in the stands.
Kuroo slowly puts away his phone and as he spots the scene unfolding on the court, his eyes widen.
Tsukishima is carried off the court by his teammates. The arena is silent. Kuroo stands up and runs down the stairs from the stands and into the area meant for the players only.
The game ends but Tsukishima barely notices, he doesn’t notice the ride to the emergency room either.
It’s only when he’s sitting in the bright white doctor’s room that the reality seeps into his mind. Still, though he is aware of what’s happening, the details remain blurry. He knows Kuroo is in the room, he knows his leg hurts, and he knows he wants to go home.
The visit to the emergency room takes both forever and just a second. Soon, or not soon at all, Tsukishima is sitting in the passenger seat of Kuroo’s car. The ride home is silent. The radio is not even loud enough to be heard.
When they finally park in front of their apartment building, Kuroo helps Tsukishima out of the car. Though Tsukishima isn’t happy to be helpless, he accepts the help until he can plop himself down onto the couch.
Tsukishima sighs for the, Kuroo guesses, seven hundredth time.
“Kei,” Kuroo says. “You’re going to be fine.” He repeats a sentence that he has said maybe just as many times as Tsukishima has sighed.
“You don’t know if I’ll be able to play again,” Tsukishima grumbles from his place on the couch, both of them know that he probably will, but Tsukishima likes to avoid disappointments so he fears the worst and never hopes.
“You heard the doctor,” Kuroo sighs, “you will be fine, it just might take a little bit.”
“That’s not enough.” Anger seeps into Tsukishima. “It’s not enough.” His voice is bitter and unlike anything Kuroo has ever heard before.
“What happened to ‘It’s just a club’?” Kuroo mimics Tsukishima’s voice for the last part, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work, Tsukishima sends him a look that makes Kuroo want to wither and die on the spot.
“You don’t get it,” Tsukishima says, usually his words have no real bite to them but this could have torn an arm off.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Kuroo walks over to stand in front of the couch, making Tsukishima crane his neck to look up at him.
“It’s fine.” Tsukishima tries to get up from the couch himself, but struggles, his one leg not being able to carry his weight.
Kuroo reaches out to help steady him but as soon as Tsukishima gains his balance, he brushes Kuroo’s hand away.
“I’m going to bed.” Tsukishima hobbles towards the bedroom.
“It’s seven,” Kuroo yells after him. Kuroo receives no response, sighs and walks after him. Tsukishima hasn’t made it far. Kuroo grabs his arm and turns him around. “What’s wrong?” Kuroo asks.
“Oh, so now you notice?” Tsukishima raises his voice, “did it really take me fucking up my leg for you to notice that there’s something wrong?”
“I didn’t know.” Kuroo shakes his head, eyes wide.
“Of course, you didn’t.” Tsukishima’s voice is laced with poison. “And you know why?”
Kuroo is stunned.
“Because you haven’t been here!” Tsukishima yells.
Tsukishima yells and something in him breaks. His eyes well up, the tears almost falling. He wipes furiously at them.
Kuroo reaches out to comfort Tsukishima but he, once again, removes his hand before it can touch him.
“No,” Tsukishima shouts. “You don’t get to do this now.” Tsukishima’s eyes burn with something Kuroo hasn’t seen before. Tsukishima stands with clenched fists. His shoulders tense, as if he is ready to attack at any moment.
“You don’t get to come and comfort me now because it fits for you.” A tear falls down Tsukishima’s cheek and this time he doesn’t bother trying to wipe it away. “You haven’t been home for weeks, you haven’t talked to me,” Tsukishima takes another step away from Kuroo, “you don’t even say goodnight or good morning anymore.” His voice shrinks, Kuroo can hear the weeks of sadness in his voice.
“You come home and go straight to bed, you leave in the morning without saying goodbye, it feels like I’ve been living alone for weeks now.”
Tsukishima is crying. The only thought going through Kuroo’s head is “I made him cry.”
Tsukishima is crying. Stoic, cold, unimpressed Tsukishima is crying. All because of Kuroo.
“So I’m sorry if this is hard for you, I'm sorry that I got hurt and you have to deal with me.” Tsukishima is defiant even in his most vulnerable state. “I know that I’ve lost you, but I can’t lose this too.” Tsukishima’s voice is small, contrasting himself from even just a second ago, his voice breaks midway through and with that, all the fight leaves his body. His shoulders fall, fists unclench, and he leans against the wall. He slides down the wall and lands on the floor.
Kuroo finally moves, his feet uprooting. He slides down the wall to sit next to Tsukishima. Their shoulders just barely touch, but this time Tsukishima doesn’t move away from the touch.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been home,” Kuroo sighs. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you.” Kuroo looks at Tsukishima out of the corner of his eyes. “And I’m sorry you got injured.” Kuroo puts a hand on Tsukishima’s leg. Tsukishima lets it rest there.
“But you will play again,” Kuroo insists. Tsukishima looks at him again, quiet tears still running down his cheeks. Kuroo moves his hand from Tsukishima’s leg and puts his arm around Tsukishima instead.
“And you haven’t lost me.” Kuroo’s voice wobbles now, and the tears start to well up in his own eyes, a single one slips down his cheek.
“But I’m sorry, I made you feel that way, but I promise you I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Kuroo’s promise is resolute and strong.
Tsukishima leans his head against Kuroo’s shoulder.
Tsukishima nods, and Kuroo rests his head on top of Tsukishima’s with a small smile.
“Do you want to watch a movie, and then we can talk about it tomorrow?” Kuroo asks, and Tsukishima nods again but neither one tries to get up.