Chapter Text
"I think this is the last of it, 'Kaashi." Bokuto drops the boxes to the floor with a dull thump-- just some clothes, nothing important-- and Keiji peers into the back of the car to be sure. Yep; that's it. He glances at his entire life, in a little pile on his living room floor. Thirteen boxes, because his few furniture items won't arrive for a few hours, and everything new he'd bought would arrive tomorrow amidst unpacking.
"I feel bad," Keiji muses, hands on his hips as he looks at the stack of boxes. "You're in Japan for such little time, and I asked you to do something like this."
"'Kaashi!" Bokuto sounds wounded, and Keiji confirms a pout with a glance to his side. "This was nothing! Especially for me! We're done so soon, You should have just let me rent the truck and move the f--" Keiji presses two fingers to Bokuto's mouth to quiet him, shaking his head.
"Bo. I told you already; with just the two of us, I'm not comfortable. I don't want you to risk an injury." Bokuto pouts impossibly harder, and a fond smile tries to tweak its way onto Keiji's lips. It makes it there, but only after Bokuto takes his hand and presses a kiss to his fingertips.
"There's still time for you to just travel the world with me, you know!" It's a conversation they've had at least four times a year since Bokuto went pro, and its frequency has only increased with time. "I'll pay for everything. You won't even have to work about it." Keiji considers, for half a second, but he's always stopped by something. This particular time, it's Bokuto's engagement band glinting in the mid afternoon sunlight, Keiji's own finger shockingly bare in comparison. It wasn't that they didn't love each other; Keiji had loved Bokuto too much to try.
"Thank you, Bo. But we both know I can't." He squeezes Bokuto's hand before dropping it, and there's an awkward moment of silence before Bokuto is coming up with something else to yell about and fill the silence surrounding the one topic they won't breach together.
I won't believe it unless he confesses to me first, he'd told Kuroo and Kenma, one drunk evening after watching one of Bokuto's games on TV and then segueing into Kuroo's sad attempt at a charcuterie board while Keiji poured too-full glasses of wine for the three of them. I'd always wonder. Whether he loved me enough to just be with me, or whether he just loved me enough to be with me. Because he can't tell me no, and I know that, so I would always wonder if it was fake. I can't nudge him into anything because he's an idiot, and I can't outright talk to him about it because he loves me enough to lie. If anything were to happen, he'd need to initiate it.... and that clearly won't be happening. So. He’d cleared his throat, looked away.
Christ, Keiji , Kuroo had said, and Keiji had just groaned and thunked his head on his friends' coffee table. Christ, Keiji, indeed. There were a lot of Christ, Keiji s when it came to the topic of Bokuto, but the three of them were well versed in each other enough by now that no one pressed Keiji, and Keiji didn't take things too far.
Bokuto had gotten engaged a mere three months later, to a woman he met while traveling. They had had a whirlwind romance, which Keiji had found to be enough like Bokuto that he'd been able to stave off the crying on Facetime the night before. Bokuto showed off the rings and forced himself to whisper in excitement so he didn't bother his teammates the next rooms over, and Keiji clutched a pillow in his lap.
She's so much like you, Keiji, I just know you'll love her, Bokuto had said, face soft and eyes close to damp, and Keiji had nodded and smiled to hide how his throat had closed up and a knife had stabbed through his chest.
And now here they are; another three months down the line, both of them with too many things to say. Bokuto is having a Western style wedding, and Keiji is his best man. Keiji feels like he's drowning, but it's okay. He has nine more months to get used to the idea of someone else being Bokuto's spouse.
"When is Tobio-kun coming?" Bokuto's head is cocked, looking up from where he’s squatted to open a box. Ah, yes. Keiji's housemate for the next year; his unlikely kouhai, who had gotten the courage to ask him at the end of Keiji's second year to practice together. After a few conversations about trust and the court, they'd promised to practice more over the summer, and Keiji was getting texts near daily from who Bokuto and Kuroo had affectionately dubbed "his" crow. Bokuto said it only made sense, since Tobio and Hinata were best friends, and he and Bokuto were best friends, and wasn't it just funny?
It was less funny in his third year when Tobio had called him out on being in love with Bokuto and how he used it as an excuse for stagnancy in his performance, but Keiji did have to admit it had kicked his ass into gear.
"Tobio will be here tomorrow. In the evening; he'll be flying in, and Kyoutani-kun will pick him up from the airport and bring him here." Keiji squats down next to Bokuto, picks through the box a bit, then stands to hoist it up. Bokuto takes it from him, and he shakes his head but leads them both to the kitchen to start unpacking.
"I fly out in the morning!" Bokuto complains, handing Keiji newspaper wrapped plates for him to set away in the cupboard. "I won't even get to see him. Kiss his little head for me!" A smile ghosts Keiji's lips, as he decides which cupboards to put what where in, stacks things neatly piece by piece.
"I'll pass along the intent with a hug," he promises drily, as he starts to put away glasses and mismatched mugs. "Tobio isn't much for physical affections, outside of a few."
The rest of the night passes with little event, and by the end of it Keiji has all of his basics laid out, and the futons set up in his room for he and Bokuto. They fall asleep holding hands, the way Keiji always pretends doesn't bother him, and when he returns home the next morning after dropping Bokuto off at the airport it's like he was never in the house at all.
The death of Keiji’s great-aunt had come as a surprise. Despite blood relations, his dad’s aunt had always been more like his mom in personality: free-spirited, risk taking, loud and present. She’d been 35 the year Keiji was born, and that had been the year she’d gotten her “big break,” so to speak. Keiji grew up watching her create crazy ceramic pieces for rich people with eccentric tastes, and she’d retired at 55 with more than enough money to live out the rest of her life on.
It had been a routine trip. She was always traveling one place or another, different countries checked off on her travel map like it was nothing more than a grocery list. The day after her 60th birthday, just after leaving the baggage claim of her trip home, a heart attack had struck her. Sudden cardiac arrest had followed, and she’d been pronounced dead on the ambulance’s arrival.
It had been a shock to their family; Koemi took it the hardest, the closest to their eccentric auntie. She’d left a lot behind, and it had taken two weeks after the will reading to sort through everything in her house. Fortune divided between Keiji and his four siblings, with one portion being smaller but also including her traditional Japanese home. As for everything inside of the home-- do with as you will. She’d always been like that; never so fussed with the tiny details.
Koemi still lived at home, their parents helping her raise her son; Kimiko lived a few hours away, established there with her girlfriend. Kaito and Kasumi were both too young for a house, and it would sit there for years until it could be used. But Keiji? Well, Keiji was already looking to start a new lease; owning a house didn’t seem so awful, in the grand scheme of things.
Three months down saw him sinking half of the money left to him into renovations and repairs, but he hadn’t minded. It had been fun, to drop by with Kenma or Kuroo and check on the progress in between the few spare moments he had from work, to see his great aunt’s usually empty house that she “just didn’t have time” to get repairs done on be restored to the glory Keiji remembered it as a child.
Now he wanders the rooms somewhat aimlessly; there’s not much for him to do, until furniture starts arriving. Even Tobio’s belongings wouldn’t be in until tomorrow, and his junior had insisted that Kyoutani had all but demanded to drive him from the airport this evening, which left….
Well.
It left just Keiji.
“I guess I didn’t realize the two of you were so close,” Shimizu had said mildly, at dinner with him and Suga just the week before. Suga joked that maybe if the Karasuno yearmates had talked more she would know, and the joke had fallen flat in the absence of easy camaraderie lost to the years. Keiji had picked up the pieces easily, always the mediator.
“It happened after your graduation,” Keiji said, not unkindly, stirring boba around his cup with his straw. “Well-- I suppose the end of your last year. It was just setter practice, originally. I think that with Suga leaving, he really needed…. Another positive role model.” Shimizu nodded, understanding dawning on her pretty face.
“And because I just came into possession of a house, I figured that it would be the easiest for me to house him while he heals. I have plenty of empty rooms.” The end of the volleyball season had brought misfortune on Tobio; a sickening crack had been heard across the court as an eager rookie miscalculated a play and rammed into him, knocking him to the floor and crushing him with his weight. Once all was said and done, Tobio was discharged from the hospital with a broken ankle, a sprained wrist, and a warning from his coach that he could either take the year off to heal fully and go to physical therapy, or he could kiss his career goodbye.
It’s just one year, Keiji had consoled, while Tobio had cried frustrated tears on a call with him and Suga. One year is better than forever. You’ll be home; it’ll fly by before you know it. Arrangements had been made; Tobio would stay with a teammate in the week remaining until the house was ready to be moved into. I know it isn’t fair, but there has to be a reason. Not for you being injured, but for you coming home.
Keiji was the down to earth one, the one who kept his head out of the clouds, but thinking about the universe made him feel small in a big way. Fate, destiny; you were in control of your own, but he didn’t believe that meant it wasn’t written. He’d tried to explain these thoughts to Kuroo, once, on a rare occasion the two of them had spent time alone, but Kuroo had just laughed sheepishly and admitted he’d had too many beers to understand what Keiji was getting at.
“Whatever it is that controls our lives,” Kuroo had added, after Keiji had rolled his eyes and knocked their shoulders together, Keiji’s hand captured in his, “I’m just glad I got to meet you because of it.”
“I’m grateful the four of us were able to meet,” Keiji agreed, squeezing Kuroo’s hand in his, eyes glassy and wine bottle almost empty next to him. He’d never liked beer too much. Kuroo laughed, and it sounded weird but Keiji couldn’t figure why.
“Yeah,” Kuroo said mildly, letting go of Keiji’s hand only to wrap an arm around his shoulders and tug him in, rest his cheek atop Keiji’s head. “The four of us.”
An hour after that wandering finds Keiji sitting on the floor, half open furniture boxes open around him.
“You’re lucky I stopped by,” Kuroo says, grinning. He’s squatting next to Keiji, flicking through an instructions booklet. “Honestly, Keiji; how did you plan on putting these together by yourself?” Keiji sucks his top lip into his mouth instead of answering, tugging planks of wood from a box and laying them out. Kuroo nudges him in question, and he huffs.
“Well.” His tone is wry. “I’ll be honest. I thought most of this was coming pre-assembled.” Kuroo laughs, and the noise fills Keiji’s front room in a way that makes his chest loosen.
“They usually charge extra for that,” Kuroo points out, but Keiji just waves him off. Another hour later, the two of them have managed to cobble together four of the six various shelving units, and Keiji hears gravel crunching in the driveway. He stands, dusting his hands off and holding a hand for Kuroo to balance with.
“Tobio’s here,” he says, relief coloring his tone. “That’s not Kyoutani-kun’s car, though. I wonder if he rented one to go to the airport..?” Keiji makes his way to the open front door, brow creased, Kuroo following.
“That’s Tsukki’s car,” Kuroo says, an edge of confusion in his words, and Keiji is stopped from responding by the back door opening and Ushijima Wakatoshi unfolding from the backseat. Keiji and Kuroo share a look; he knows that Ushijima and Tobio have been getting closer, but he guesses he hadn’t realized it was close enough to fly to Japan with him. He couldn’t be taking off the season too, could he?
Further thought is stalled by the driver’s side door opening-- and promptly slamming closed, maybe a tad too hard, as Tsukishima gets out of the car. Kuroo shifts uneasily beside him, but Keiji thinks that the weird bubble of tension in the air stops them both from approaching. Tsukishima yanks open the trunk in a quick, agitated movement; Ushijima goes around the car, opening the passenger side door and holding out a hand to steady Tobio as he leans on one crutch and makes his way to standing.
Tobio ducks his head in their direction in an informal bow, hand held comfortably in Ushijima’s for balance. Kuroo’s eyebrows disappear into his hair, but Keiji just smiles and steps forward while Tsukishima hauls a suitcase from the trunk; the motion seems to draw Ushijima’s eyes, and he frowns as he looks between Tobio and Tsukishima, like he can’t decide what he should do.
“Tobio,” Keiji says, and he holds an arm out in an offer for a hug. After a brief hesitation Tobio takes it, leaning on Keiji and pressing his face into his shoulder. Keiji pats his back and squeezes, fondness rolling through him. There’s only a year between them, but Keiji can’t help to see Tobio as a teenager still. “It’s good to see you. Welcome back to Japan. I thought Kyoutani-kun was picking you up?”
“So did I,” Tobio mutters against his shirt, fingers tensing in their grip at his back. “He texted last minute and said something came up and a teammate was filling in.” Ah. That makes a little bit more sense. But still….
“I told him I could come get you if he needed me to.” Tobio bobs his head along, because he knows, and Keiji catches the whip of Tsukishima’s head toward him out of the corner of his eye. Keiji isn’t sure what’s gotten him so worked up, but he may as well be hissing and spitting for the vibes he’s giving off.
“I’m sorry for the trouble, Tsukishima-kun,” Keiji adds, as Tobio rights himself and Ushijima slips an arm around his waist that Keiji files away to ask about later. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner before going back home. I know we’re pretty well out of the way of your place.” Tobio fidgets beside him, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and Tsukishima seems to fume. Kuroo puts a hand on his shoulder and knocks the sides of their heads together, murmuring something Keiji can’t make out, and Tsukishima shakes him off in irritation but seems to lower his hackles.
“Thank you for the invitation, Akaashi-san. As long as it isn’t troublesome.” He’s nearly speaking through his teeth, but Keiji just nods graciously. Kuroo claps him on the back and Tsukishima glares, before approaching the house and asking Kuroo mockingly where his majesty’s belongings should be left. It’s only after they’ve disappeared inside that Keiji turns his attention to Tobio and his teammate, head cocking a little bit.
“Is there anything you want to share with me, Tobio-kun?” It’s not knowing, or passive aggressive; it’s a light, simple question. Tobio’s business is his to choose when to share. His junior’s face turns a pale shade of pink and he mumbles something, then clears his throat.
“Whatever you think, it’s not…. Toshi and I aren’t like that.” Toshi . Keiji feels woefully out of the loop, but if Tobio is comfortable opening up then he’ll drag it all out of him later. Ushijima clears his throat, and nods his head a little in greeting.
“I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I am Ushijima Wakatoshi. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Tobio’s trusted seniors.” Tobio! The power of volleyball, he supposes. “I won’t impose on you for long; I just wanted to make sure Tobio was settled alright. I have another flight in approximately eight hours, so please let me stay until then.” He’s bold and blunt about it, but Keiji doesn’t mind; prefers that, in fact. He just nods, holding out a hand.
“Akaashi Keiji. It’s been quite a long time; I’m glad Tobio-kun has someone who cares so much about him. Of course, you’re welcome to stay for dinner and until you must leave again for your flight.” Keiji stays a step behind them up to the door, watching Ushijima hover and help Tobio up the steps; he feels like he’s been dropped in the middle of a trivia game in another language.
He’ll just go back in and start dinner, and hope things go for the best.
Two hours later finds that same weird bubble of tension around the table, and it ultimately ends with Tsukishima and Tobio getting into an argument about something petty, neither meeting the others eyes as their voices raise, and then Tsukishima slamming down his fork, thanking Keiji for his hospitality, and then leaving in a manner that Keiji would categorize as “fleeing”.
Later, he happens to walk by and catch Ushijima dipping down to press his lips to Tobio’s briefly, and he pretends he doesn’t see anything. He can already feel a headache coming on.
The following three days can be summarized easily: unpacking, and talking. Tobio slowly reveals the nature of he and Ushijima’s relationship– platonic– in bits and pieces, until Keiji feels like he has more of a full picture. There’s nothing romantic between them, but it resembles something like a step up from the relationship with Kyoutani that Tobio had freaked himself out over in his third year of high school.
Emotionally intense, but platonic. It was red faced that Tobio admitted that he’d confused the feelings at first, too, so unused to trusting someone implicitly; but from the sounds of Ushijima’s apparent apology and continuous praise and patience with his insecurities, Tobio had found him worthy of that trust. Keiji didn’t quite get it, but it wasn’t his business to get. He took Tobio’s words for their worth, because that was good enough for him.
It’s late afternoon by the time they’ve got Tobio’s things fully unpacked or stored away in an unused room, the two of them now collapsed on the couch and waiting for takeout to arrive. Tobio is in the middle of telling Keiji how Ushijima had thought he was pining after Tendou on his own while Tendou thought they’d been dating already for four years when the doorbell rings, and Keiji hauls himself off the couch with a groan.
He shuffles over, picking up his wallet from the table by the door and opening it as he slides the door open. “Hello–”
“Akaashi-san!” The voice is thick with emotion, and Keiji blinks twice as he brings his eyes up to the person in front of him. He blinks twice more, unable to process what he’s seeing.
“Udai-san….” He trails off in confusion, unsure why his old mangaka is here of all places. “Don’t tell me you’re delivering food now?” It had only been one month prior that Keiji had said goodbye to his company for good, tired of the constant pressure on both he and Udai for more updates, more pages– and on top of that, the two other mangas Keiji had been assigned with almost no notice, drawing him further away from Udai’s project. There was also the promise to help Keiji with his literature career, and then the complete lack of follow up, but that made him feel so bitter that he tried to avoid thinking about it. He’d been approached by a modelling agency just before New Year’s, and after a smooth audition he’d put in his two weeks. It had been hard to say goodbye, and the company had even come back and offered him double to keep him on, but he'd been too fed up by then.
Udai clasps his hands together and drops to his knees on the porch, bowing his head. “Akaashi-san!” He cries out again, and Keiji has a sudden sinking feeling that his new, stress-free life is about to take its final blow.
“I’ll break my contract with the company, so please help me finish this manga together!”