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It all started, Tsukishima Kei thinks later, with the selfie.
It lands in the groupchat without ceremony, in between shots of Rio streets and Brazilian food, a simple “look who I found” appended to the message.
Hinata Shouyou, making a ridiculous face, standing next to Oikawa Tooru making an equally ridiculous although perhaps slightly more photogenic face.
Kei stares at the selfie as he gets ready for class. Hinata’s already noticeably tanner than he was before he left Japan, but he’s still wearing that dumb meat t-shirt he had all through high school. And Oikawa Tooru is standing just behind him, close enough that he can probably feel Hinata’s warmth.
“Hinata’s allowed to make new friends,” Kei tells his bathroom mirror. “Even if those friends are smarmy assholes with terrible personalities we played volleyball against in high school.”
It’s not like he was ever yours to begin with, he thinks to himself. His reflection stares back at him, dark circles obscured by rectangular glasses.
It wasn’t until Hinata’s plane was fading into a tiny white dot in the sky that the vastness of the situation hit him, the chatter of Yamaguchi and Yachi fading into the background as Kei realized this was the first time Hinata wouldn’t be a bike ride away from him.
“What’s got you all zoned out?” Kageyama demanded then, poking Kei in the shoulder.
Kei probably smacked his hand away and said something cutting and funny about how Kageyama’s still so bossy and demanding, but thinking back on it now, he can’t really remember what he said. Only the plane flying into the blue, and the knowledge that this was probably the worst possible time to realize he had any sort of feelings about Hinata at all.
And now there’s The Selfie.
Kei gets all the way through eating breakfast, making coffee to go, and getting on the train to his morning biology class before he finally looks at the groupchat again.
Yachi replied with a sticker of a pink bunny making a shocked expression. Yamaguchi asked follow-up questions, and Hinata replied with cheerful, breezy messages about how Oikawa’s playing for Argentina and just so happened to be in Brazil right now, isn’t that wild. Kageyama said... nothing.
Kei looks at the group chat thread, and then taps Kageyama’s icon in the sidebar and opens up their barren direct message history.
Me: Did you see it?
Kageyama Tobio: Yeah.
Kageyama is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: I showed it to Ushijima-san too.
Me: And what did Ushiwaka have to say?
Kageyama is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: Not much.
“Well, this was useful,” Kei mutters. The train announces his stop, and he shoves his phone back in his pocket and decides to table this discussion for now.
Unfortunately, his brain refuses to support this decision, and he spends the lecture thinking about The Selfie. What was Hinata doing with Oikawa? (Playing beach volleyball and getting treated to dinner, according to the groupchat, but like...really? Oikawa?)
He gets through the lecture somehow, and on his lunch break checks Hinata’s ridiculously chatty Twitter. There’s that stupid selfie again, same “look who I found” caption, Oikawa fucking Tooru tagged in the post. Oikawa’s verified Twitter account replying to the post with “always fun to run into old rivals!”
Kei’s shoulders relax a fraction at that. Rivals, then. Nothing more.
...Right?
He opens up his conversation with Kageyama again.
Me: Do you still talk to Oikawa?
Kageyama Tobio: No.
Kageyama is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: Why do you ask?
“Do you have to type so slow?” Kei mutters to himself, before typing out, “Just curious.”
Kageyama types for an absurdly long time, gray dots fading in and out of the chat window before the message finally sends.
Kei reads it, and then almost wishes Kageyama was still typing.
Kageyama Tobio: Do you want to get coffee later today?
The coffeeshop Kageyama chooses is about a block away from the gym where the Adlers are having a practice game. The games were in the morning, Kageyama explains, but some of the team members with friends and family in the area chose to stick around for a bit longer.
He didn’t come up to Sendai just to get coffee with Kei, is what Kei’s getting from this. Somewhat of a relief.
“Should you even be drinking caffeine during the season?” Kei asks, following Kageyama through the glass doors.
“I’ll just get milk,” Kageyama says. “Should you be drinking caffeine during the season?”
“It’s just a division 2 team,” Kei says, bland smile in place. “And I’m a college student. I need coffee to pass all my classes without sleeping through them.” He orders a mocha before Kageyama can say anything else.
Kageyama’s still glaring at him, though.
“God, what? ”
“It’s just— I hate it when you do that,” Kageyama says, once they’ve both paid and are waiting for their drinks. He’s frowning at Kei in a familiar expression of deep irritation.
“Do what?”
“Play down your accomplishments. It’s just a division 2 team, it’s just a club. You’ve always said stuff like that and it’s always annoying.” Kageyama glares at him.
Well then. Kei’s... honestly surprised Kageyama noticed. His face feels hot. “Whatever. We’re not here to talk about me.”
Kageyama blinks. “Right.”
They pick up their orders and sit down at a small table.
Kei sips his mocha and flicks open the groupchat on his phone. Hinata’s posted more photos to the groupchat, motion-blurred selfies of him and Oikawa getting drinks at a Brazilian bar, him and Oikawa on the beach at night with some Brazilian guys they played beach volleyball against.
Yachi says she’s glad Hinata’s having fun.
Kei and Kageyama stare at the photos.
“So...” Kei begins.
“So.”
This is, Kei decides, unbearably awkward. He drinks his mocha and waits for Kageyama to say something.
Kageyama zooms in on one of the selfies with Oikawa. His frown grows more pronounced. He shoves the phone back towards Kei.
“You’re the one who asked to meet up,” Kei points out. “You start.”
Kageyama sighs like Kei is the one annoying him, and not the other way around. “It’s weird, right?”
“What is? The fact that we’re hanging out together without Yamaguchi or Yachi?” Or Hinata. The last time their little group had gotten together they’d videocalled Hinata so he wouldn’t feel left out overseas.
“That too, but I meant. That.” He gestures at the phone screen.
“It is weird,” Kei allows.
Kageyama looks down at the table, then back up at Kei. Kageyama doesn’t type slowly, Kei realizes, he just takes time to figure out what he wants to say. And what he’s decided to say now is “Do you think there’s something going on between them?”
Kei’s insides feel cold. “Wouldn’t you know better than me? Aren’t you best friends?”
“Absolutely not,” Kageyama snaps.
“Right, right, you’re eternal rivals, sorry I forgot for a second there.” Kei pushes his glasses up his nose. “So as Hinata Shouyou’s eternal rival, do you think there’s... something going on?”
Kageyama locks eyes with him then, deep blue meeting brown, and stares so deeply Kei’s sure he’s reading something Kei doesn’t want him to find out.
“I don’t know,” Kageyama admits. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You’re...smart. You might’ve noticed something I didn’t.” He grimaces like saying that gave him a stomach problem, which would’ve been hilarious in any other circumstance.
“I don’t know either.” Kei sips his mocha. “Do they both even swing that way?”
“Hinata does,” Kageyama says, with the kind of certainty that makes jealousy flare white-hot in Kei’s chest. “Not sure about Oikawa-san, but it’s possible.”
“Hmm.”
They both slump a bit.
“How long?” Kei asks.
“How long what?”
Kei waves a hand to indicate a range of ways that sentence could end. “How long have you liked him, I guess.”
“Since second year.” Kageyama drinks his milk, deep in thought. “I didn’t realize it until third year, though.”
“Did you tell him?”
Kageyama shakes his head. Frowns more. His face is going to get stuck in a frown someday, Kei thinks.
“What about you?”
Kei shrugs. “I didn’t notice until the airport.”
“Ah.”
And then, horrifically, Kageyama stretches his hand across the table to pat Kei on the shoulder. Kei flinches away.
Kageyama’s frown changes from “resigned and upset” to “confused,” and Kei hates that he can tell the difference between Kageyama-frowns now. An unfortunate side effect of being teammates in high school.
“I don’t need your pity, King,” Kei says instead. “Or your commiseration, if that’s what you were going for.”
“So then...” Kageyama stares at the phone again. “What should we do? Is there anything we can do, from here?”
“You can confess your love over a text message, I’m sure that’ll go over great,” Kei says, so sarcastic even Kageyama gets it. “Or you could just, I don’t know, ask him about Oikawa, that’ll probably be more elucidating than speculating with me.”
“Are you going to confess?”
“Never,” Kei’s reply is swift and immutable. “No point.” Why would Hinata Shouyou choose Tsukishima Kei over his volleyball soulmate? Kageyama’s eyes bore into him anyway, blue and piercing and challenging Kei to try harder.
“I hate how you do that too,” Kageyama informs him.
“The King is certainly opinionated today.” Kei leans across the table then, making the most of his height in order to loom over Kageyama. “It may surprise you to hear this, but I don’t actually care whether or not you like anything about me.”
“You can’t just keep giving up on things whenever you decide it’s impossible!” Kageyama snaps.
Kei stands. “It’s better for you, isn’t it? One less rival to worry about.” He gathers his things, shoving his phone back into his pocket and picking up the empty paper cups on the table. “I think we’re done for today.”
Oikawa stays in Rio for a week, and while the number of selfies sent to the groupchat decreases as the novelty wears off, the number of selfies Tweeted and Instagrammed does not. Kei never thought he’d spend this much time looking at anyone’s social media, and yet, here he is, glaring at Oikawa’s blue-check account like it has wronged him personally.
“Beach volleyball is hard, but thanks to @NINJASHOYO I’m getting better~!,” the most recent tweet declares in English, Japanese, and Spanish, with an attached photo of Oikawa diving after a volleyball in the sand. Hinata’s slightly blurry in motion next to him, shirtless and suntanned, the sunlight making his hair glow neon orange. It’s not the best picture of either of them, but... they look happy, Kei hates to admit.
“Maybe you should ask him if they’re a thing,” he texts Kageyama one night in a moment of weakness. Because I can’t take it anymore, Kei thinks.
Kageyama doesn’t reply until the next morning, but when he does, he sends Kei a screenshot.
Me: Are you and Oikawa dating?
Hinata Shouyou: lololol nahhhhh
Hinata Shouyou: y do u ask
Me: Just curious.
Hinata Shouyou: we’re friends!!
Hinata Shouyou: wild how that happened but yeah!!
Hinata Shouyou: (also he totally watches all ur games he said he doesnt but i can Tell)
Me: I don’t watch his games.
Hinata Shouyou: riiiiiiight sure kageyama
Hinata Shouyou: ill tell him u asked abt him ;)
Me: >:(
Hinata Shouyou: lololol i can see u making that face
Hinata Shouyou: do u want his number ;)
Me: No.
Hinata Shouyou: lmaooo ok
Hinata Shouyou: anyway gotta go bye!!!
“Huh,” Kei says out loud. Kageyama forgot to crop the screenshot to just the relevant part, which gives Kei far more insight into the Oikawa-Kageyama dynamic than he ever wanted to have. He’s glad Kageyama asked about it, since Kei has far less reason to be interested in Oikawa’s life and career than Oikawa’s former kouhai.
“Thanks,” Kei ends up replying.
Kageyama is typing...
No problem.
Kageyama is typing...
He stops typing.
Me: ? What were you going to say?
Kageyama Tobio: Never mind.
Kageyama Tobio: Good night.
Kei blinks at his phone. That’s... more polite than Kei remembers Kageyama ever being in text. He rarely says anything in the groupchat unless mentioned directly.
It’s weird, is what it is, Kei decides.
Me: Good night.
Hinata doesn’t text Kei directly often. There’s the groupchat for their year, the less-active Karasuno Volleyball Alumni groupchats (plural, for some reason they keep making more groupchats with basically the same people in them), the Miyagi first years winter training camp groupchat, the third gym chat, and Kei has almost all of them muted but that doesn’t stop him from seeing Hinata’s messages and selfies and stickers.
The last time Hinata messaged him, just Tsukishima Kei himself, was to share a photo of some restaurant in Rio with a decal of a terrible and inaccurate cartoon dinosaur taped to its window. “Why did you send me this,” Kei asked, and Hinata said “it made me think of you!!!”
“I feel like I should be offended,” Kei sent back, while feeling warm inside and out at the fact that Hinata had thought of him at all.
This time, it’s a picture of an ice cream cone, pink and studded with strawberries and waffle pieces, that Kei sees when he checks his phone one morning.
Hinata Shouyou: Strawberry shortcake ice cream!
Me: Is it good?
Hinata Shouyou: yeah!!!
And then, because Kei can’t help himself:
Me: is Oikawa-san still there?
Hinata Shouyou: I saw him off this morning :c it was fun while it lasted!
Hinata Shouyou: he rly helped me out haha
There is nothing to be jealous of, Kei tells himself, no reason why he should feel a stab of pain under his ribs, but the feeling slides through anyway, and he grips the phone with too much force as he types “Good for you.”
Hinata Shouyou: :)))
Hinata Shouyou: I was having a rly bad day when I ran into him... feeling super homesick n stuff
Hinata Shouyou: and then oikawa-san played with me and treated me to dinner!
Hinata Shouyou: so yeah it was nice
Me: I’m glad you’re not all alone over there.
Hinata Shouyou: me too :) i miss everyone tho!!!
Kei sends back, “Everyone misses you too.”
Kei goes through the rest of the day distracted, half-present, pleased that Hinata remembers his favorite food and thinks of him and misses him, but also other feelings he can’t put a name to. The conversation scratches at him all day like an itch deep under his skin, and he has to turn his phone off completely during class so he’d stop staring at the stupid thing.
He turns it back on again on the train home.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: tsukki! Are you doing ok?
Me: Fine, why do you ask?
Yamaguchi Tadashi: best friend senses were tingling
Me: -__-
Yamaguchi Tadashi: ok ok you’ve been online less than usual all week so I was wondering if something was up
Yamaguchi Tadashi: maybe you’re just busy with school! But if that’s not it.....is it anything I can help with.......
Me: it’s nothing, seriously chill lol
Yamaguchi Tadashi: ://///// Okay.......
Briefly, Kei feels a spark of guilt that Kageyama knows about his feelings for Hinata, but his best friend doesn’t. But he doesn’t know how to tell Yamaguchi, not at this point.
The guilt flares brighter as he opens up another message window.
Tsukishima Kei sent a screenshot.
Me: This has been distracting me all day.
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: That sucks.
Me: Right?
Kageyama Tobio: I miss him, but...
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: But I’m looking forward to seeing how much he grows over there.
Me: God, he’s going to be a nightmare to play against.
Kageyama Tobio: Amazing, you mean.
Me: Maybe.
He’s visiting Akiteru in Tokyo this weekend, because Akiteru misses his little brother and their mom is concerned her older son isn’t eating well living alone so far away. So he gets on the train with a backpack full of plastic food containers, and texts Kageyama.
Me: Going to be in Tokyo today, you want to meet up?
Kageyama Tobio: Sure. I’ll be done with practice at five if you’re still around then.
Kageyama’s never been easy to communicate with, but he’s even worse in text, without the frowns and gestures Kei had grown used to over three years of high school. And, well, Kei needs to talk about the Hinata thing with someone who gets it. On some level, at least.
Akiteru is, predictably, concerned about him. “Are you sleeping enough? Eating well? They’re not working you too hard at that college, are they?”
“You’re my brother, not my mom,” Kei complains. ‘Why does everyone keep asking me if I’m okay?”
“Because you’re not exactly known for talking about your problems unless specifically prompted into doing so,” Akiteru points out. “And I’m guessing Tadashi thought the same.”
Kei grumbles in response.
Akiteru pours his brother a cup of tea, pushes the mug towards him, and waits.
Kei sighs. He sips the tea— two sugars, the way he likes it. “Have you ever— liked someone, who didn’t like you back, and probably never will?”
“Oh. Ohhhhhhhh. So that’s how it is.” Akiteru leans forward across the table. “Who is it?”
“None of your business.”
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who!”
“Just answer the question.”
“Fine, be that way.” Akiteru drinks his own tea. “To answer your question— it’s happened to me before, but it passed. If you’re sure it’s an impossible crush, it’ll pass eventually.”
“How long will that take?”
Akiteru laughs. “It depends, I assume. I hope for your sake you get over it soon, though.”
“Thank you for the sympathy,” Kei grumbles.
“Tell me who it is!”
“Nope.”
Tsukishima Kei obliges his brother by telling him about his classes and the extracurricular research project his favorite professor is letting him do for internship credit.
“And how’s volleyball? You’re not skipping practice to visit me, are you?”
“We don’t have practice on Mondays. Volleyball is fine.” It was weird at first, playing on a team of total strangers and his most bizarre high school rivals, but he’s not butting heads with anyone the way he and Kageyama were all the way through first year. Not even Koganegawa can annoy Kei the way Kageyama does just by existing.
Akiteru lets him go eventually, instructing that Kei text him when he gets on the train, and off the train, and home.
“I’m not going straight back, actually. I’m meeting up with— someone, since I’m in town.” Kei is standing in the entranceway, one shoe already on, about to step out the door.
“Anyone I know?” Akiteru raises his eyebrows.
Unlike Akiteru, Kei can’t lie to his brother. Akiteru always sees right through him. He looks away and mutters, “Kageyama.”
Akiteru gasps like he’s had some kind of sudden epiphany.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, it’s not that,” Kei cuts him off.
“It all makes sense now,” Akiteru says. “All that bickering when you two were in high school, and the way you know exactly what to say to rile him up—”
“I’m not in love with Kageyama,” Kei says flatly. His face feels like it’s on fire. He’s not sure whether clearing up the misunderstanding would make this better or worse.
“Of course you aren’t.” Akiteru winks. “But if you were, I wouldn’t be so sure he’ll never like you back.”
“I like Hinata,” Kei interrupts, sliding his other shoe on and pulling the door open. “Kageyama also likes Hinata. We’re meeting up to complain about it.”
“Ah.” Akiteru squints at him. “In that case. Have fun?”
Kei rolls his eyes. “See you, nii-san.”
Kageyama’s training facility is half a subway line away from Akiteru’s place, long enough for Kei to reconsider whether or not this was even a good idea in the first place. Maybe he should’ve asked Akaashi if he wanted to hang out instead. Or Lev. No, probably not Lev.
Kageyama sends him a Maps link to a trendy juice bar across the street from the training facility, though, so it’s too late to turn back now.
He’s waiting under the awning in front of the entrance, frowning at his phone, hoodie pulled up over hair still damp from a shower.
“Juice?” Kei asks, coming up behind Kageyama.
Kageyama startles, fumbling with the phone in his hands before shoving it into his pocket. “It’s healthier than coffee. And it’s close by.”
He must come here a lot, Kei thinks, as the girl behind the counter calls out “Welcome back!” and asks if Kageyama-senshu would like his usual.
“Yeah, thanks,” Kageyama says, and points at some strawberry-banana-orange-whatever blend on the menu. “You’d probably like that one, it’s sweet.”
Kei blinks at Kageyama, caught off-guard. “I guess I’ll get that, then.” Why the hell does Kageyama remember that Kei prefers sweets, when anything unrelated to volleyball usually falls right back out of his head?
The juice is pretty good, which is even more annoying.
Kageyama sips his own violently purple juice blend and waits for Kei to start talking.
“Does it ever get easier?” Kei asks. “The— well, you know.”
“Ah.” Kageyama continues to sip his juice. “I think it has, yeah. Since he’s not around anymore, I don’t have to think about him all the time, and can focus on other things. But I mean— volleyball always came first, even in high school. And now.”
“How did you know that you liked him in the first place?”
Kageyama chokes on his drink, and, coughing slightly, looks away. “I uh. Saw him kissing— someone. After a practice match. And. It hurt, but I didn’t realize why until. Later.”
Kei squeezes his cup with a bit too much force. “Wait, what? Who? What? Explain.”
“... He asked me not to tell anyone.”
Kei waits.
Kageyama shakes his head. “I don’t know if they were ever, like, together or if it was just a one-time thing. We never talked about it after that, so. Maybe it wasn’t important.”
“Somehow I don’t believe Hinata could secretly date someone for two years of high school without any of us picking up on it,” Kei says. “So that makes sense.” Still, he’s burning with curiosity. “Who was it, though?”
“Someone from Nekoma. I didn’t see his face, and I didn’t ask.” Kageyama is frowning, frustrated. The paper cup in his hand crumples from the force of his grip. “Maybe I should’ve. I don’t know.”
He sighs. “It just. Hurt. To think about it too much.”
Kei nods almost imperceptibly. “Yeah.”
“It’s so annoying,” Kageyama grumbles. “That he can make us so sad without even really doing anything.”
“Indeed.” Kei sips his juice. “Why don’t we just... stop liking him?”
Kageyama frowns. His confused frown this time. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“It can be,” Kei says stubbornly. “My brother said unrequited feelings always pass eventually.”
Kei adjusts his glasses and peers over the top of the lenses at Kageyama. “What if we make it a competition?”
Kageyama looks blank. “Huh?”
“Whoever gets over Hinata the fastest wins.”
“Wins what? And how do you even prove something like that? Can’t I just lie and say I’m over Hinata whenever?”
Kei rolls his eyes. “You’re not that good at lying about your feelings.”
Kageyama squints at him, assessing. “You’re a better liar than I am, though.”
“Fair enough. I guess... whoever gets into a serious, non-Hinata relationship first wins?”
“Fine.” Kageyama stretches his hand across the table. Kei shakes it.
“Do you like guys and girls, or just guys?” Kageyama asks suddenly.
Kei shrugs. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“If you could say yes to any random girl that confesses to you, that gives you an advantage in this competition.”
The implication being that Kageyama can’t do that. Interesting. Kei leans back in his seat. “Relax, King. Not only am I not interested in women, I have pretty high standards.”
“You like Hinata,” Kageyama points out.
“ You like Hinata. Lots of people like Hinata. Have you seen the replies he gets on Twitter? It’s hard not to like him.” It’s like being pulled into orbit around the sun. Fitting when he remembers the silly sun-moon-shadow metaphors Yachi kept coming up with whenever they fought, back then.
“Anyway.” Kei’s juice cup is empty, and he has to catch his train back to Sendai. “We have a deal.”
Kageyama nods.
Having a goal helps. Deciding that he’s going to Get Over Hinata Shouyou is one thing, but beating Kageyama at Getting Over Hinata Shouyou is an entirely different thing. And Kei’s not about to start losing to Kageyama now.
He signs up for some dating apps as a gesture of good faith, and then immediately deletes all of them. He mutes Hinata’s Twitter (which has mercifully ceased posting about Oikawa). He immerses himself in his schoolwork, in volleyball practice, actually saying yes to hanging out with his classmates and teammates in the evenings so he wouldn’t end up thinking about what Hinata’s up to half a world away.
He also starts messaging Kageyama more often, which he probably should’ve expected to happen, but still takes some getting used to. They’re not sending each other “good morning” and “good night” messages— usually, anyway— but Kageyama starts texting Kei at completely random moments, sending him bizarre memes he says he got from Hoshiumi-san, or passing on a piece of advice from Ushiwaka. Distractions to share.
To be polite, Kei responds in kind, telling Kageyama interesting things from his classes that Kageyama definitely doesn’t have the context to understand, and complaining when the coffeeshop next to his department’s building is out of chocolate syrup.
“You shouldn’t be drinking that anyway,” Kageyama says, every time, and Kei responds with a single eyeroll emoji. Every time.
Kageyama Tobio: Can I ask you something?
Me: Sure.
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Me: Spit it out already.
Kageyama Tobio: Fine.
Kageyama Tobio: Can you help me pick out a gift for Yamaguchi’s birthday?
Me: Cutting it pretty close there, King. The party’s next week.
Kageyama Tobio: I know, I’m sorry.
Kageyama Tobio: We’re coming up to Sendai tomorrow and I’m spending the weekend with my family. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?
Me: Sure.
Kei almost asks Kageyama to meet him at the shopping street when he remembers how much Kageyama sucks at directions.
Me: I’ll pick you up outside the gym, I guess.
Kageyama Tobio: Thank you.
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Kageyama sent a sticker.
It’s a bunny bowing deeply. Kei absolutely does not smile.
Kageyama’s standing outside the gym when Kei shows up, but he’s not alone. He’s talking to someone on the Adlers Kei doesn’t know by name. The other player nods and waves goodbye as Kei walks up.
“Hey.” Kageyama nods at him, shoulders relaxing. Kei nods.
“You’ve known Yamaguchi for four years now,” Kei points out as they walk to a department store. “You should know what he likes.”
Kageyama huffs. “Last year we all pitched in for a giant Tikachu plushie, but... I don’t know, he can’t want more plushies.”
“Wrong.” Kei shakes his head. “Yamaguchi always wants more plushies. But yeah, you should get something different this year.”
“What’d you get him?”
“The gift of my continued friendship,” Kei says.
Kageyama stops walking and turns to stare at Kei incredulously.
Kei holds it for a beat before cracking up. “God, your face. I got him two tickets to his favorite band’s Sendai show next month.”
“...That’s good,” Kageyama admits.
“I know.”
They wander aimlessly through the department store for a while, Kageyama pointing out random items that Kei immediately vetoes, partly because they’re not good enough for Yamaguchi, and partly to irritate Kageyama. Eventually they stumble on a thick, warm plaid scarf, in green and brown and gold colors that should look good on Yamaguchi.
“And it’s November, which means it’s almost scarf weather. Congratulations, King, we’ve found the perfect birthday present for Yamaguchi Tadashi.” Kei claps sardonically as Kageyama pays for the scarf and the gift packaging.
“Thank you,” Kageyama says, no trace of irony in his face.
Kei feels hot. He blinks and looks away. “As Yamaguchi’s best friend, it’s my responsibility to make sure he gets good birthday presents. Obviously.”
“Still.” Kageyama swings the paper back back and forth a little. “This was fun.”
“...Maybe,” Kei says, as he realizes with growing horror that yes, it was fun, to spend time with Kageyama Tobio. Of all people. What has his life come to.
Yamaguchi’s birthday gathering is a small affair, yakiniku in a restaurant with Kageyama and Yachi, and Hinata on videochat. They had a big group video call with everyone in Karasuno Alumni Chat Number Whatever earlier in the day, but the actual party is just them. Kei’s not sure when the five of them became this closed friendship unit, but he’s not sure he minds.
“Happy birthday,” Kageyama grumbles, handing over the paper bag brimming with tissue paper Kei helped him pick out.
“Thank you!” Yamaguchi beams.
“At least try to smile,” Kei hisses, poking Kageyama in the side.
“My smile scares small children, are you sure you want that on Yamaguchi’s birthday?” Kageyama hisses back.
“Because you try too hard. Just think about something funny, or something that makes you happy.”
“I can’t do that on command!”
“I’m still here, you know,” Yamaguchi interrupts.
They jump apart. Kei feels vaguely exposed, like he’s been caught stalking Hinata’s social media accounts instead of bickering with Kageyama. But Yamaguchi just looks vaguely amused.
“Did you ask Tsukki to help you pick this out?” he asks, pushing the tissue paper apart to examine the contents.
Kageyama nods. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“ At the time? ” Kei repeats. “You came crawling to me for help—”
Yachi leaps across the booth to get in between them, her latent volleyball-managing skills activating like it’s high school all over again. “I think we get it, guys!”
“Sorry, Yacchan,” everyone says in unison. Yamaguchi turns the grill on.
Hinata, on Facetime through Yamaguchi’s phone, smiles and says, “I’m glad you’re all having fun.”
Kei glances at the phone screen. It’s early morning in Brazil. Hinata’s eating breakfast at his kitchen table. The sunlight and white furniture of Hinata’s apartment makes his video feed the brightest spot in the dim restaurant. It’s almost as if he’s there in person.
Kei waits for that feeling of longing to envelop him, but it doesn’t, the heat of the grill and sound of his friends’ laughter filling any space that wanting Hinata would have occupied. Maybe the stupid Getting Over Hinata competition is actually working.
“I’m impressed, honestly,” Yamaguchi says later, after the meat’s been eaten and Hinata’s gone to work and Yachi’s left early (She has an early morning tomorrow. Everyone wishes her the best and quietly worries about her schedule). “That you and Kageyama still hang out. Voluntarily! On purpose!”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised about it,” he mutters. “We were on the same team for three years.”
“But not on purpose.” Yamaguchi smiles softly. “And the way you’re arguing with each other now feels different.”
Kei feels exposed again. “It’s not important. Actually, I should probably get going too.” He stands.
Yamaguchi just laughs.
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
“Sorry, Tsukki.” He doesn’t look sorry at all. “Let’s call it a night?”
Kageyama looks like he’s falling asleep sitting up. He’s never been much of a night owl, Kei recalls. It’s probably past his bedtime or something. He shakes Kageyama’s shoulders a few times. “Let’s go, unless you want to live here now.”
“I live here now,” Kageyama replies, half-asleep.
“No you don’t,” Kei snaps, pulling Kageyama out of the booth. “Yamaguchi, give me a hand, he’s heavy.”
“Last year you would’ve just left him there,” Yamaguchi muses, but helps Kei get Kageyama to his feet and steer him out the door.
The November chill seems to wake Kageyama up, and he yawns. “Thank you.” He turns to Yamaguchi. “Happy birthday, again.”
“Thank you, again.” Yamaguchi grins. “Are you staying at your parents’ house?”
“I guess.” Kageyama yawns again. “I don’t think there’s any trains back to Tokyo right now.”
“Did you not plan in advance?” Kei demands. “We agreed on this restaurant weeks ago! How dumb are you, honestly?”
Kageyama blinks at him, too tired to really put up a fight. Which just irritates Kei even more. “Just stay at my place, god, you’re impossible.”
“What?” say Kageyama and Yamaguchi in unison. With more disbelief than Kei thinks is strictly warranted.
“I have an extra futon at my place, and it’s closer, and you don’t have to wake your mom up or whatever. It’s the most logical choice.” Kei sticks his hands in his pockets and looks away. “Yes or no?”
Kageyama’s still staring at him, so Kei adds, “Offer’s expiring in thirty seconds.”
Yamaguchi is also staring at Kei. Kei decides to ignore him. “Yes or no, King?”
“Fine." Kageyama nods. "Thank you for offering. See you, Yamaguchi.”
“Sure, see ya,” Yamaguchi agrees, squinting at the two of them and giving Kei a look that means he will be messaging Kei next morning for an explanation.
Kei starts walking in the direction of his rented apartment at slightly faster than his usual walking speed, daring Kageyama to keep up.
“What was that all about?” Kageyama asks.
Kei doesn’t really know himself, so he ignores the question. They turn onto his street.
“Tsukishima. What’s going on.”
Kei unlocks the door to the building and takes the steps to the third floor two at a time. “You’re reading too much into this.”
“This isn’t the kind of thing you’d usually do,” Kageyama points out.
Kei freezes, key in the lock, and turns to lock eyes with Kageyama “I didn’t feel anything,” he says finally. “When I saw him on Facetime. Instead of wanting... whatever. I just didn’t feel anything at all.”
“So...you invited me to stay over... to tell me this?” Kageyama asks. He looks like he’s genuinely trying and failing to connect the dots, which makes Kei feel even more embarrassed.
“It was the most logical option,” Kei repeats. He pulls the door open and all but shoves Kageyama through it. “Bathroom’s first on the right.”
Kageyama obediently takes his bath and puts on the change of clothes Kei gets for him. Kei sets up the spare futon in the living room while he waits and feels the weight of this incomprehensible impulse decision catch up to him.
“Bathroom’s free,” Kageyama announces, joining Kei in the living room. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Whatever,” Kei scoffs.
Kageyama hesitates, and says, “I didn’t feel anything either, then. Or like. I felt like I wanted to beat him in volleyball. But that’s always been there, so.”
Kei raises his eyebrows, and steps around Kageyama to get to the bathroom. “Guess it’s working.”
“Guess so.”
As Kei takes his turn in the bathroom, he realizes this is the first time someone outside his family (not counting Yamaguchi, who’s basically family anyway) has stayed overnight at his place since high school. And it’s Kageyama. Of all people. He’s alone, in his relatively new apartment, with Kageyama Tobio.
Kageyama who is sitting on his unfolded futon in the middle of Kei’s living room, wearing Kei’s extra pajamas, checking his charging phone.
Kei tries to remember what Kageyama’s nightly routines were like during training camps, but it’s been a while and it wasn’t like Kei paid any attention. “Do you... need anything else? Glass of milk before bed?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Kageyama looks up, mouth twisting uncomfortably. “...I feel like I’m going to have to pay you back for this later.”
Damn, Kei wasn’t even thinking about that until he brought it up. “I’ll think of something.”
Kageyama glares at him.
“Tch.” Kei looks over his shoulder at Kageyama’s phone screen. “What time do you have to be back in Tokyo tomorrow?”
“I don’t know... I don’t have practice tomorrow, but I’m doing some outreach thing in the afternoon, I think...”
“You think.” Kei flicks off the light and steps over Kageyama. “If you wake me up before 10 tomorrow, I will kill you.”
Kageyama just nods at this pronouncement. “Okay. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Kei lies awake in his bed for longer than usual that night, staring into the darkness above his head and wondering if he could actually hear Kageyama’s breathing through the wall or if he’s imagining things.
When Kei wakes up, Kageyama’s gone, but there’s a message waiting for him.
Kageyama Tobio: Went for a run. You said not to wake you, so.
It was sent nearly twenty minutes ago. He’s probably on his way back, then.
Me: Sure you won’t get lost, King? You don’t know this neighborhood.
Kageyama Tobio: -__- I have a navigation app on my phone now.
Me: He CAN be taught.
Kageyama Tobio: -__-
Me: Do you eat breakfast?
Kageyama Tobio: You don’t?
Me: Coffee.
Kageyama Tobio: :/
Kageyama Tobio: I’m on your street
Kei sighs and gets out of bed. The rice cooker’s warm. Kageyama must’ve put it on before he left. Kei starts his coffeemaker and checks his fridge for things resembling breakfast food. His mom left a bunch of pickled vegetables last time she visited, so that’s something. By the time Kageyama pulls open the front door, he has two bowls of rice and miso soup and a sensible amount of side dishes scattered around his tiny kitchen table.
Kageyama stares at the arrangement, slowly sitting down opposite Kei. “You made all this?”
Kei bristles. “Mom made the side dishes,” he admits. “Is this peasant food not good enough for royalty, King?”
Kageyama tries a pickled radish, delicately picking it up with his chopsticks and inspecting the slice before taking a bite. His eyes widen. “It’s great. Just unexpected. You really don’t eat breakfast at all?”
“Who has the time?” It is kind of nice to eat a complete breakfast for once, but Kei’s not hungry in the mornings anyway, and he doesn’t usually have early practices he needs fuel for.
“Kind of thought you’d like those big Western dessert breakfasts,” Kageyama explains, in between bites of extremely ordinary rice and vegetables. “Like, pancakes and stuff.”
“Sometimes, maybe, but not every day.” Why are they talking about breakfast food, of all things? This is weird. This is a weird situation to be in.
Kageyama checks his phone. “I have to be in Tokyo by 3 so I should probably get going soon,” he mutters.
“Don’t let me keep you.” Kei takes a sip of his coffee and watches Kageyama over the edge of the cup. Kageyama hasn’t changed much since high school, appearance-wise. He’s wearing an Adlers hoodie now instead of his Karasuno jacket, and he parts his hair differently, but the expression of concentration directed at the phone in his hand is exactly the same as it always was.
So why does it feel different, somehow?
Kei shakes his head and starts clearing the table. Kageyama insists on helping with the dishes, because Kei cooked and someone has clearly trained Kageyama into being a proper houseguest. They talk about the “outreach thing” Kageyama has to do in Tokyo and the Frogs’s chances in the division 2 circuits this year, and it’s weird in how normal it is. Comfortable, almost.
“I heard Kuroo-san’s applying for a job with the Volleyball Association after he graduates, so you might start seeing him at those outreach things soon,” Kei says.
Kageyama makes a hilariously expressive face at this. Kei snickers. Kageyama scowls.
Their phones both vibrate at the same time. Their main group chat has been updated with a message from Hinata: a photo of the beach in Rio lit up at night, and a note that his team won today.
They stare at the message and Kei realizes he hasn’t thought about Hinata at all until this moment.
But Hinata exists and he’s all the way across the world, and Kageyama is standing in Kei’s kitchen drying Kei’s bowls with the kitchen towels Kei’s mom bought for him as a housewarming gift, and the main thing they have in common is the fact that they both care more about Hinata than about each other.
Cared. But. Maybe still.
At any rate, the moment’s shattered, and Kei puts the bowls back in the cabinet in silence while Kageyama gets his stuff.
“Do you need me to walk you to the station?” Kei asks, leaning against the door as Kageyama puts on his shoes. “You’ll have to take the local train two stops and then transfer to the shinkansen.”
“I’ll be fine,” Kageyama says, and then looks up. “I don’t want to intrude on your day even more.”
“I offered,” Kei points out, although he’s not sure why he did that. Why he keeps doing these things. His plan for the day minus Kageyama was mostly homework and maybe calling his mom at some point to reassure her he’s still alive. Maybe he just really, really does not want to do his homework. Subconsciously. “What would your coach say if you got lost and ended up in Osaka by accident?”
Kageyama squints at Kei. “I don’t think there’s any way for me to get to Osaka from here.”
Kei rolls his eyes and grabs his coat.
It’s cold for November, but sunny. The train station isn’t far. They walk in silence for a bit, Kei wondering what the hell possessed him to voluntarily extend the amount of time he’s spending with Kageyama Tobio, when Kageyama suddenly says, “Thank you.”
“What?”
“Thank you,” Kageyama repeats. “For uh.” He gestures vaguely.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kei’s face feels hot. He looks straight ahead.
“You know.”
Kei risks a glance at him. Kageyama appears to be at least as uncomfortable with the situation as Kei is, so at least they’re even on that front.
“Elaborate,” Kei says.
Kageyama glares at him.
They reach the entrance to the station like that. “Thanks,” Kageyama says again, softer this time.
“You’re welcome,” Kei says. “It’s two stops and then a transfer. Don’t forget.”
Kageyama rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you around.”
“Sure.”
They stand there like that, at the entrance to the station, for a few seconds, before Kageyama turns around and heads down the steps. Kei watches him disappear into the underground.
As Kei turns back onto his street, his phone buzzes with a text from— Yamaguchi.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: did Kageyama leave yet?
Me: Just now.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: ok
And then Yamaguchi fucking voice-calls him.
“Why are you doing this to me,” Kei hisses as he picks up the call.
“Because texting gives you too much wiggle room and I’m at my parent’s house today for a belated birthday celebration so I can’t yell at you in person.”
“You don’t need to yell at me,” Kei grumbles. He opens the door to his building.
“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, not sorry at all. “Now explain.”
“Explain what?”
“Tsukki! Don’t be like that,” Yamaguchi says in a tone of voice that sounds exactly like Kei’s mother scolding him for the exact same thing. “What’s going on with you and Kageyama?”
Kei sighs deeply, but finally does what he should have done weeks ago and tells his best friend about his problems as he walks up the stairs to his apartment.
“Did you know I liked Hinata?” Kei asks, unlocking the front door with one hand.
Yamaguchi laughs uncomfortably. “I suspected, but I wasn’t sure...”
“But you thought—”
“Yeah.”
Yamaguchi’s quiet for a bit when Kei’s done, so Kei starts making himself a second cup of coffee with the phone on speaker. “So... let me get this straight: You liked Hinata. Kageyama liked Hinata. And then you started hanging out together to... complain about liking Hinata? Because Oikawa met up with him in Brazil? And now you like Kageyama?”
Kei flinches, knocking the cup over. The coffee spills across the countertop. “What? I don’t like Kageyama.”
“But I mean, why else would you keep going out of your way for him the way you have been?” Yamaguchi points out. “And you said you’re getting over Hinata, so I just assumed... If I’m wrong then I’m sorry, but that’s what it sounds like.”
“I don’t know why I’m doing this stuff,” Kei admits, “I was hoping you’d know. But it can’t be because I like him.”
Yamaguchi is worryingly silent.
“What.”
“Tsukki,” he finally says, like a doctor about to tell his patient how long he has left to live, “there really aren’t a whole lot of possibilities here.”
Kei stares at the phone screen, the call duration ticking onward, and contemplates ending the conversation. Yamaguchi would probably just call back immediately. He picks his coffee cup back up again.
“So now what?” Kei asks.
Yamaguchi is worryingly silent again.
“Yamaguchi.”
“I really think— and like, I could be totally off base here, but I really do think there’s a good chance he feels the same way.”
“Thank you for your input.”
“Tsukki.” Yamaguchi sighs. “Fine, whatever, I’m not going to get involved. But you should tell me this stuff earlier, not after weeks of barely responding to my texts.”
“Okay. Bye.” He hangs up.
So. Kei likes Kageyama. Apparently. Fucking fantastic.
Kei decides to handle this the way he handled liking Hinata: by not thinking about it. He cleans his apartment, washing the clothes Kageyama had borrowed from him and putting the spare futon back in the closet where it lives. He does his homework. He texts his mom to let her know he’s still alive, because after Yamaguchi’s ambush calling people seems like a dangerous game.
Then Kageyama sends him a photo.
It’s one of the worst selfies ever taken, probably: Kageyama and Ushijima Wakatoshi in their Adlers uniforms, grimacing like they’re being threatened. An incredibly excited small child throwing up peace signs between them. The selfie is blurry and out of focus. Kei can’t help but laugh, and something warm and light fills his chest at the sight of this horrible, terrible photograph.
Kageyama Tobio: I made it on time.
Me: Good for you.
This, Kei realizes abruptly, can’t continue.
Now that he’s aware of his feelings, they’re spilling out of him in every direction, and if he and Kageyama keep talking the way they have been, or meeting up, he’s going to say or do something and even Kageyama, dense volleyball-brain that he is, will know that Kei’s somehow fallen for him. And that would be...
Kei doesn’t know what that would be.
So he doesn’t send Kageyama a follow-up message continuing the conversation. He responds with one-word answers or not at all when Kageyama keeps messaging him with random stuff, until, after about a week of this, Kageyama asks, “Did I do something wrong?”
Because of course that’s what Kageyama would think. Because Kageyama is awkward and blunt and painfully straightforward and earnest, and kind, and if high school Kei could see Kei now he’d laugh so hard.
Kei lets the message sit for an hour, two hours, before sending back “No.”
Kageyama Tobio: ?????
Me: Busy.
Kageyama Tobio is typing....
Kageyama Tobio: Okay. I’ll leave you alone then.
Me: Thanks.
It does not feel like a victory.
Kei manages to keep himself from feeling guilty about this for another, like, three days, before he happens to catch Koganegawa watching the livestream of an Adlers game after their practice.
“What’s up with Kageyama today? He’s going to get switched out at this rate,” Koganegawa muses loudly, angling his phone like that’ll make Kageyama play better somehow.
Kei leans over Koganegawa’s shoulder, and his teammate obligingly angles the phone so Kei can see.
It’s clear Kageyama’s miserable, even though it’s only been a couple of days. He seems paler and he’s snapping at his teammates like the Kageyama from five years ago has temporarily possessed his body. They’re playing a team the Adlers usually beat by a landslide, but this time the score is closer than it should be.
Kageyama switches with their backup setter.
Fuck, Kei thinks. I fucked up.
He doesn’t message Kageyama right away, because Kageyama’s probably feeling worse after the bad game and Kei is self-aware enough to know he won’t be able to handle that delicately.
Kei stares at his contacts list for a solid ten minutes before typing a message.
Tsukishima Akiteru: Kei! What do you need?
Me: How do I... apologize to someone for ignoring them?
Tsukishima Akiteru: isn’t that your default state of existing lol
Tsukishima Akiteru: you barely even reply to me or mom
Tsukishima Akiteru: who were you talking to often enough that this is noticeable :thinking:
Me: It’s complicated.
Tsukishima Akiteru: of course
Me: If you’re going to make fun of me I can ask someone else for advice...
Tsukishima Akiteru: NO I CAN HLEP
Tsukishima Akiteru: *help
Me: Ok.
Admitting his brother was right about something, Kei decides, is less painful than the alternatives.
Akiteru, like Yamaguchi, calls him immediately. “So, you realized you like Kageyama and decided to avoid him forever?”
“Not forever,” Kei corrects, “just until I get over it.”
“But you realized Kageyama’s sad because you’re avoiding him, so you want to fix that?”
“He’s playing worse, and I don’t want— I don’t think he should—”
“Okay, calm down.” Akiteru laughs softly in the receiver. “We can figure this out.” Kei feels the weight on his shoulders lift, just slightly. Because for a second he can believe it.
“What do you want to happen?” Akiteru asks.
“I want to not have any feelings at all,” Kei snaps.
“I meant like, what do you want to happen that is actually possible.”
Kei isn’t good at this: making his wants into words and saying them out loud. Akiteru should know this by now. But he’s pushing anyway. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. Stop avoiding the question.”
“I want to...date him,” Kei mutters. “But it’s not going to happen, so.”
“Kei,” Akiteru says, “I seriously don’t think it’s as unrequited as you think it is. If you want to date him, you just have to tell him that!”
“How?”
Akiteru sighs. “Well, first of all, you should probably talk to him in person about all this...”
A few days later, Kei gets an unexpected text.
Bokuto Koutarou: HEY TSUKKI
Me: ...Hello?
Bokuto Koutarou: U R INVITED
Bokuto Koutarou: TO AKAASHI KEIJI’S BIRTHDAY PARTY
Bokuto Koutarou: December 6 in Tokyo at 8 pm here is the address
Me: Ah. Thank you for the invitation.
Bokuto Koutarou: PLEASE COME
Me: Who else is invited?
He kind of wants to ask if Kageyama will be there, but that seems like a tactical mistake. If Bokuto knew he wanted to see Kageyama, everyone would know and have opinions on it.
Bokuto Koutarou: volleyball ppl! Mostly ppl you know dw tsukki!! Oh but yacchan said she has too much work and can’t make it :(((
Me: I see. Thank you.
Bokuto Koutarou: so polite!!!
Bokuto Koutarou: lookign forward 2 seeing u :D :D :D akaashi is too!!!
Me: Sure, Bokuto-san.
Kei stares at his past messages. It’s been a week of absolutely no contact with Kageyama, at this point. His name has gotten pushed down the recent messages tab by incoming messages from group chats, from Yamaguchi, from Akiteru, and now Bokuto.
Kei can do this. He’s not fifteen anymore.
Me: Are you coming to Bokuto-san’s party?
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: I thought it was for Akaashi-san’s birthday?
Me: Same thing. Are you going to go?
Kageyama Tobio: Yes.
Kageyama Tobio is typing...
Kageyama Tobio: Are you?
Me: Yeah.
This time, Kei is the one stuck typing and backspacing. What is he supposed to say now? “I’m sorry” doesn’t feel like enough, but too much at the same time. “I want to talk to you in person” is a terrifying message to receive with that much notice. Kageyama starts typing too, and Kei backspaces a final time and waits.
Kageyama Tobio: Before, you said you were busy. Are you still busy now?
Kei hesitates, types, backspaces, and finally sends:
Me: I’ll come to the party.
The days leading up to the party pass in a blur. Kei probably goes to class, probably does his homework and hands it in on time, probably plays volleyball.
Me: I’m going to see Kageyama at a party soon.
Tsukishima Akiteru: How convenient!
Tsukishima Akiteru: Do you know what you want to say to him?
Me: Ugh.
Tsukishima Akiteru: Kei!
Me: I’ll apologize and explain, I guess.
Tsukishima Akiteru: :)
Tsukishima Akiteru: my little brother all grown up and solving interpersonal problems
Me: Gross.
Tsukishima Akiteru: :’)
He gets Akaashi a gift card to the bookstore closest to his apartment. Figures out which train he needs to take to make it there on time. And texts Yamaguchi.
Me: Are you going to the party?
Yamaguchi Tadashi: what party?
Me: For Akaashi-san. Saturday. Even if you weren’t invited I’m sure you could crash it.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: I have a test on Monday I need to cram for anyway and I don’t know Akaashi-san super well or anything, so I think I’ll sit this one out haha
Yamaguchi Tadashi: but anyway what’s new with you?
It strikes Kei then, how far apart he and Yamaguchi have drifted after high school. They’re in the same city, but different colleges and programs, so they have to plan to spend time together, and neither of them are used to doing that after so many years of walking to school and practicing and eating lunch together every single day.
Me: You said you didn’t want to get involved.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: ??? are there new developments???
Me: I’ve been avoiding him.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: TSUKKI.
Me: I’ll talk to him at the party.
Yamaguchi Tadashi: omg ok
Yamaguchi Tadashi: I’m supporting u emotionally from afar
Me: Thanks.
Three hours on a train is far, far too long, Kei thinks, not for the first time. It’s too much time to think about everything that has happened and could happen and won’t happen.
Hinata sent a photo of the sun rising over his beach volleyball net to the groupchat, and Kei doesn’t feel anything complicated about it. Besides exasperation that Hinata can be that awake so early in the morning over there.
When Kei finally gets there, the party is already in full swing. Kei can hear the dance music from the hallway. Akaashi’s standing in the doorway talking to someone Kei thinks went to Fukurodani, and when he turns to see Kei he smiles softly. “I’m glad you could make it, Tsukishima.”
Kei nods. “Happy birthday, Akaashi-san.”
“Thank you.”
Someone, possibly Bokuto, yells “TSUKKI” over Akaashi’s shoulder and Kei takes another moment to regret all of the decisions that led him here. The small apartment feels overcrowded, especially considering that half the guests are professional athletes the approximate size and shape of refrigerators. The lights are dim, but Kei can make out Kuroo talking to Kai in a corner, Hoshiumi jumping up and down in front of Shirofuku, Ushijima and the Miya twins and— his heart drops — Kageyama, holding a plastic cup and nodding along to Bokuto’s story.
Bokuto appears and grabs Kei under one arm, and Kageyama with the other, pulling them together. This was not quite how Kei was imagining seeing Kageyama again. “Hey hey hey! How are my two favorite crows!”
“We all know Hinata is your favorite crow, Bokuto-san,” Kei wheezes. He can smell Kageyama’s shampoo from this angle. Seems to be the same brand as it was in high school, he thinks absently. Wait, why does he remember that?
“Hinata’s in Brazil, so you’ll have to do!” Bokuto releases them, making Kei stumble. “Glad you could make it down from Sendai, Tsukki-dude.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Kei looks at Kageyama, who seems to be focusing on a spot on the wall next to him. “Hey, King.”
Kageyama flinches. He glances in Kei’s general direction for a split second, and then back. “Hey,” he says.
Bokuto looks back and forth between them and decides, “I’m going to get you a drink, Tsukki. Any preferences?”
“Kahlua and milk?”
Bokuto laughs. “Seriously? Okay, we might have Kahlua somewhere... Akaashi! Do you have Kahlua and milk for Tsukki?”
“Seriously?” Akaashi squints at him over the rim of his new glasses.
“It’s a perfectly normal drink,” Kei insists.
Akaashi pats him on the shoulder as he moves past Kei to the kitchen. Kei follows.
“How have you been, anyway?” Akaashi asks.
“Fine, thank you. How about you?”
Akaashi makes a face. “Applying to editorial internships, but none of them are getting back to me.”
Kei nods sympathetically.
Akaashi hands him a cup of Kahlua and milk. “Enjoy, I guess.”
“It tastes good,” Kei insists in the face of Akaashi’s skepticism, and takes a sip. He scans the space Bokuto had rented out for the party and decides he’s not ready to talk to Kageyama just yet. He hasn’t seen most of these people in ages (well, Kuroo was at the last Frogs game as part of his own internship thing or whatever, but Kei was trying pretty hard to avoid him then). Kei could catch up with people. Socialize like a normal person.
...He doesn’t super want to socialize, though.
Kuroo spots him first, anyway, peeling off the wall he was leaning against and sidling up to Kei. “Tsukki! You’re alive!”
“Yup.” Kei takes another sip of his drink.
Kuroo peers into his cup. “What is that.”
“Kahlua and milk.”
“Seriously?”
“Why does everyone keep saying that! It’s good, okay, leave me alone!” Kei chugs the rest, ignoring the slightly bitter burn it leaves in his throat.
Kuroo looks like he’s holding back laughter. Kei glares at him some more.
“Okay, but actually, Tsukki. Are you doing alright?”
“You’re not my father, Kuroo-san.”
“I have to make sure my protege is still kicking!”
“I’m touched. If you’ll excuse me.” Kei steps away from Kuroo and ends up in a brief but blissfully impersonal conversation about the Elephants’s chances this year with Onaga and one of the Broccoli-heads from Shinzen whose name Kei never bothered to learn.
“There are a lot of volleyball people here, huh,” says the Broccoli-head.
“Akaashi’s not exactly the most social person,” Onaga points out. “I think Bokuto did the invitations.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t realize Bokuto knew so many volleyball players personally,” Broccoli-head says. “Even Ushiwaka made it, and that guy’s as social as a brick wall.”
Kei winces at the memory of blocking against said brick wall.
The brick wall, as if summoned, chooses this moment to walk past their cluster towards the kitchen space. Ushijima bumps Kei’s shoulder slightly.
“Ah,” he says. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Kei says, stepping aside to let Ushijima pass.
“Wait.” Ushijima glares at Kei for a moment before saying, “Tsukishima.”
“Yes?”
“Talk to Kageyama.”
Kei blinks. “Huh?”
“He’s been distracted at practice since you stopped messaging him,” Ushijima explains.
“Wait, how do you know—”
“He stopped asking us for advice on what to send you.”
Kei nods like the thought of half the starting lineup of the Adlers reading his and Kageyama’s texts isn’t deeply and existentially mortifying. “I see.”
He tries to escape, but Ushijima stops him with one huge hand on his shoulder. It feels like a brick coming down. “Talk to Kageyama,” he says again.
“I will,” Kei says.
“I think the balcony’s free, if you need, um, privacy,” Broccoli-head suggests. Kei’d forgotten they were in public. Great.
As much as he wants to put this conversation off, the looming presence of Ushijima Wakatoshi gives him no choice. Kageyama’s still leaning against the wall he’d been standing by when Kei first arrived, but now Hoshiumi’s talking to him about something. They keep looking over this way.
Hoshiumi grabs Kageyama’s wrist and starts dragging him across the crowded room.
“I can walk, Hoshiumi-san,” Kageyama protests, as people make room for him. They’re attracting rather a lot of attention for something that’s supposed to be Akaashi-san’s birthday, Kei thinks.
“Just get it over with!” Hoshiumi shoves Kageyama practically into Kei’s arms. “Delivery,” he announces, and bounces away.
“Sorry,” Kageyama mutters.
Kei looks at the ceiling. “Let’s go to the balcony, I guess.”
The “balcony” turns out to be a tiny ledge with a railing around it, barely big enough for two people to stand there and smoke, or vape, or, as the case may be, talk.
Kageyama stands as far as possible from Kei, perhaps in an attempt to give him space.
“So,” Kageyama says.
“So,” Kei says.
Kageyama’s looking at him with a deeply familiar, deeply unimpressed expression.
“First of all, I’m sorry I stopped talking to you without warning. I shouldn’t have done that.” He bows.
“Did something happen?”
“I... needed some space, for a bit. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I should’ve told you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” He bows again, because he’s polite.
“It sucked,” Kageyama says. He looks Kei in the eye. “Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” Kei says.
“So why did you need space?” Kageyama prompts.
Kei takes a breath. “Remember the competition? To get over Hinata? We never decided on what the winner gets.”
Kageyama scowls. “Really? That’s what you want to talk about right now? If you’ve—”
“I’m not done, let me finish.” Kei pushes his glasses back up his nose. “We agreed the first person to get into a serious non-Hinata relationship wins, but not what winning or losing meant. But there’s one possible outcome where we tie.”
Kageyama blinks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kei rubs his forehead. He has to be straightforward for Kageyama to get it, he knows, but being straightforward feels like falling off this stupid fourth-floor balcony without a safety net. “If we date each other. We tie.”
Kageyama blinks again, like a computer buffering. “If we... date... each other?”
“I’m saying I like you.” The words feel like concentrated embarrassment, scalding on his tongue as he forces them out. His face is probably the color of a tomato. “Do you get it now, King?”
“If you like me, then why did you say all that stuff about ties?” Kageyama looks genuinely confused and, worst of all, hurt.
The plunging feeling is back. “Because I didn’t know how to say it, okay? I’m not used to just saying things the way you do. That’s... something I have to learn.” This is almost as awful to admit as the fact that he likes Kageyama in the first place. “You’re so honest all the time, it’s scary.”
Kageyama’s frown changes from “confused and hurt” to “considering.” “What do you mean, when you say dating?”
“What people usually mean by dating, I guess.”
“Not everyone means the same thing, though. You can’t make me bentos every morning, for example. We live in different cities.” Kageyama tilts his head to one side, and Kei wants to kiss him, a little bit. “What do you want from this?”
Kei takes a deep breath to steady himself, and thinks about all of the things he didn’t let himself think about for the past few weeks. “I want to talk to you every day, and video call you and message you whatever I’m thinking about. I want to spend time with you whenever we’re in the same town. I want...” He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Kageyama’s reaction to this. “To kiss you, and. Things like that. Please don’t make me say this again.”
Kageyama is silent for a worryingly long time. Kei opens his eyes.
Kageyama takes a step towards Kei, and then another.
“So do it,” Kageyama says. It sounds like a challenge.
Kei steps forward. Puts a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.
And closes the gap.
***
Hinata comes back after two years, like he said he would. He joins the MSBY Black Jackals because they were the best team holding open tryouts, because that’s how he is. And he finally gets to play his eternal volleyball rival Kageyama Tobio in an official game, after all this time.
Kei watches the game tense and on the edge of his seat, wincing every time Hinata makes a gravity-defying leap or shockingly clean receive. Seeing him play reminds Kei a little of high school, of switching out with Nishinoya in the back row and watching the legendary freak quick from the side. But Kageyama— Tobio, now — is on the opposite side of the net, setting cleanly and sharply and as best as he can to a completely different team.
After the game all of the Karasuno alumni get together and catch up. Tobio comes out of the locker room to be surrounded by his former upperclassmen, who herd them all to some restaurant for a “proper Karasuno VBC reunion” or whatever Sugawara’s saying now. And as they walk there, Kei slips his hand into Tobio’s, because it’s crowded and loud and because Kei wants to.
Hinata, walking on the other side of Tobio, gasps. “You didn’t tell me about this! ” He gestures at their hands.
“It didn’t come up,” Tobio explains.
Kei lets out a burst of laughter. “We’ve been together for almost two years.”
“TWO YEARS!” Hinata squawks, loudly enough that their friends turn to look before remembering that the three of them yelling at each other is their natural state of being. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this for two years,” Hinata adds, in a quieter, still deeply offended voice. “But I’m happy for you guys.” He smiles. “I’m glad you have each other.”
Kei feels a knot in his chest, a spot of pain that had been there for so long he’d almost forgotten about it, loosen at this unexpected blessing. “We weren’t hiding it or anything. Did you really not wonder why we kept video calling you from the same places?”
“I just thought you’d finally become actual friends or something, obviously! I guess it makes sense that the two most emotionally constipated people I’ve ever met would end up together, but— Ow! Tsukishima! Control your boyfriend!”
It’s nice how easy it is, Kei decides.