Chapter Text
Tsukishima Kei hates many things, but spontaneous decisions are now his new worst enemy. The week before he graduated from his bachelor’s program, he had his life all planned out—move into a moderately-priced apartment and start his job at Tokyo’s new museum.
But now, as he stands in front of a not-so-moderately-priced apartment, boxes of belongings by his feet, he realizes that perhaps he had it coming all along.
Kei figures he should be thankful, thankful that Kuroo managed to find him an apartment on such short notice. He is thankful, really, just also a little miffed.
After all, Kuroo Tetsurou is not to be trusted for many reasons, but Kei, distrusting as he is, can count on him to have connections everywhere. After a day of nagging, Kei finally allowed Kuroo to recommend a complex with an open apartment, and after a week, Kei finds himself moving in.
The apartment building stands tall, towering over Kei with its beige exterior. Also standing by the apartment is Kuroo, because even though Kei told him not to come, Kuroo insisted that he’s too nice not to help Kei move in.
“So, what do you think?” Kuroo asks, stupid grin spread across his lips. Kei shrugs, the apartment’s nice, but it wasn’t in his grand after-graduation plan.
“It’s fine,” Kei finally replies. “You can start with the kitchen supplies,” he says. Kuroo nods, picking up a heavy box.
Regardless of what Kei said, Kuroo starts with the books.
-
Kei’s apartment is small, although Kuroo insists that Kei’s getting what he’s paying for. Kei stands in the doorway, surveying the kitchen. The counter is wide enough to fit his coffee machine, and the fridge is large enough to fit exactly twenty containers.
The apartment might just be better than the one Kei had picked out before, but he’ll never tell Kuroo that.
Kei whips his head around at the sound of someone bounding down a hallway. “Did you see the boxes outside, ‘Yama? Someone’s moving in!” Kei looks down the hallway and is greeted by the sight of a short redhead, and beside him, a brooding, dark-haired boy.
The dark-haired boy scowls, “dumbass, you can’t just bother someone while they’re moving.” The redhead frowns and crosses his arms, “they have better things to do than talk to you.”
Then they’re gone, and Kuroo is back again with another box. “Wow, Tsukki, I never pegged you for much of a bookworm before today!” He says, dropping a box full of books inside the apartment.
Kei hums noncommittally, sifting through a box labeled Tools and Miscellaneous in an attempt to find a box cutter, because he plans to drop the boxes off at a recycling center, and he doubts they’ll accept boxes opened with Kuroo’s brute force.
Kei looks at the boxes laid out by the door, as Kuroo’s phone dings and he hurries to check his texts. “Shoot,” Kuroo sighs, “there’s a problem down at the gym. I have to go,” he says, “if you need anything, call me.”
“Thanks,” Kei replies. Kuroo leaves and Kei is left with ten boxes and an empty apartment. With a sigh, he begins unpacking, beginning with the kitchen appliances. If nothing else, Kei can at least have a cup of coffee.
Unpacking goes by quickly, as Kei likes to believe he doesn’t own many things, just the bare essentials. Although, as he plugs in his coffee machine and looks over at the heavy box of books, Kei realizes that he may need to buy another shelf.
Kei plugs his coffee machine into the wall behind the kitchen counter, and his lips tick up into a small smile as the machine rumbles to life.
-
An hour later, Kei finds himself with a less-empty apartment and a content feeling in his chest. His bedroom is tidy enough to sleep in, the kitchen is presentable, and Kei may just feel a little proud of himself for unpacking things so quickly.
Alongside his feeling of proudness, Kei feels something strange in his chest. His apartment feels like home, as if Kei has stumbled upon a home that isn’t is, but he shakes his head and continues to prepare a cup of coffee.
The doorbell rings, and Kei stands up from his couch to open the door. He peers through the peephole, and is greeted by the sight of a silver-haired man. He looks friendly enough, Kei supposes, friendly enough for Kei to open the door.
The silver-haired man stands in the doorway, wearing a wide smile. “Hi, neighbor!” The man says, “I saw your moving guy earlier today.”
Kei nods, “sure. My moving guy.” Kei wonders how the man mistook Kuroo for a moving man, but he figures anybody could look that way from afar. He replies, “can I help you?”
“I should be asking you that,” the silver-haired man says. He extends a hand, “my name’s Sugawara, but you can call me Suga.” Kei is silent, so Suga continues. “You probably haven’t had the chance to shop yet, but there’s a little store right down the street. There’s nothing healthy there, but their instant noodles will be enough to get you through the night.”
“Thanks,” Kei says, and Suga smiles.
“Do you have your phone? We should exchange numbers, since we’ll be seeing each other often.” Suga says, and Kei wants to frown at that, but he doesn’t. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Suga, who quickly enters in his number.
He hands it back, and Kei becomes aware that Suga has saved himself as ‘Suga-senpai.’ Suga clears his throat, “well, I’ll be going now.” He leaves, and Kei frowns as he realizes that Suga was right—his fridge is empty and the evening is approaching.
Kei takes one look out the window, at the shop across the street bearing a sign that reads We’re Open! Kei shrugs on a coat, slips his shoes on, and closes the door behind him, leaving his moving boxes sitting on the floor.
It’s getting colder, as fall is slowly giving way to the cold embrace of winter. Kei remembers bus rides passing through Tokyo, but school field trips were never enough to do the city justice, weren’t enough to showcase the bright lights and ever-moving metropolis.
Kei’s shoes click against the pavement, and he wakes his way over to the store. He steps in, and the shop clerk is alerted by his presence. Kei silently wishes he had made a grocery list, but he picks up a basket and slips into an aisle.
The lights flicker on and off as Kei skims through the noodle aisle, tossing packages into the basket. If Kuroo were here, he’d remind Kei to eat healthy. Kei leaves the aisle and wanders over to the refrigerator, placing two bottles of juice in his basket.
Kei pushes his glasses up his nose, and walks over to the counter. The man there looks bored, even more so as he rings up Kei’s items. “And will that be all?” He asks, and Kei nods. He hands Kei two plastic bags, and Kei leaves the store, bags in hand.
As much as Kei wouldn’t like to care, Kuroo insists that Kei put more in his body than instant noodles and black coffee, but Kei can’t think of eating anything else. What’s more, he doesn’t know anyone in the area, save for his new neighbor, Sugawara.
Kei grumbles and stalks up the stairs to his apartment. He debates whether or not asking Sugawara about better grocery stores will haunt him for the rest of his life.
When Kei arrives back at his apartment, things look different. His belongings remain untouched, but his moving boxes have been neatly stacked. Kei pushes his glasses up his nose, there’s no sign of a break in, but Kei gets the feeling that his apartment was less than empty while he was gone.
Memory is unpredictable, Kei thinks, and he could very well have stacked the boxes before he left. Still, Kei lets the thought float to the back of his mind, there are other things to worry about, like what flavor of instant noodles would be suitable for a chilly night like this one.
-
Kuroo insisted that the best part about this apartment is the balcony, and Kei has to agree. It’s nice, overlooking the city and beyond. Kei’s never been much of a stargazer, but he might as well start now.
The noodles are fine, probably overloaded with sodium. Kei goes back inside, and closes the door on his entry to the night sky. Kei figures he should take a shower, and so he does, although he notes that the water is colder than he would have liked.
Kei also swears he saw a bar of soap move in the bathroom.
Kei lays in bed that night, tossing and turning. It’s never been like this—Kei prides himself on his regular sleeping schedule, but something is different tonight. He heard once that the first night in a new place is always the hardest, but Kei never believed it.
Kei sheds his blanket and walks toward his window. The moon is out tonight, a crescent moon standing proudly in the sky. Kei envies the sun for being able to disappear behind the clouds, giving way for the moon to rise.
It isn’t normal to feel like this, but Kei hopes it’ll be over tomorrow, and his apartment will be as welcoming as a new apartment can be.
Grumbling, Kei returns to bed. He’ll regret this tomorrow, Kei thinks, when he will be forced to struggle through the workday. He adjusts his glasses and turns on a lamp, feeling around the side table for his latest crime novel.
There’s something weird about this place, Kei knows, but he can’t describe it. It’s the feeling of walking into an abandoned house, the feeling of being shut out of a place that claims to be welcoming.
Kei gets through three chapters of the book before his eyes begin to hurt. He pulls off his glasses and places them on the side table before resigning to look at the moon for the rest of the night.
-
Kei would not normally classify himself as someone who slacks off much, just enough to get by. Although today is an exception, because Kei finds that slacking is all he can do.
Kei adjusts his glasses for the tenth time today, before taking a sip of coffee. Everything is irritating today—the steam rising from Kei’s coffee, the green trash bin by Kei’s office door, and especially the new pens that twist instead of click.
Kei is tired, embarrassingly so, but he’d rather slog through the day than waste a precious day off sleeping. Just a few more hours, Kei reminds himself, a few more hours of sitting at a too-short desk before Kei can go home and sleep until the weekend’s over.
“Long night?” Kei turns around to see his boss, Daichi, standing at the door. Kei grumbles, taking another sip of his coffee. Daichi chuckles, “I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls a spare chair over and sits next to Kei.
Kei stays silent, and Daichi sighs. “I know it may be hard to adjust to this job, being a new graduate and all, but you’re honestly one of the best experts we have.” He says, gesturing to the many fossils Kei has labeled, spread across his desk. “You can leave early if you want, just finish up what you’re doing.”
Kei makes a noise, and Daichi stands up, headings towards the door. “Get some sleep, Tsukishima, you look like you need it.” He says finally, and disappears into the hallway, leaving Kei with too many unlabeled fossils.
If only it were that easy, Kei wants to say, but Daichi doesn’t need to know about what caused Kei’s sleepless night. There are only five more fossils left to label, and yet, classifications have begun to blur in Kei’s mind.
Kei lifts his pen, slowly lowering it to a piece of card stock. He’s certain he misspells a word or two. Kei sets his pen down, Daichi is right, Kei can go home now and still keep his days off.
Shrugging on a coat, Kei collects his scattered project and shoves his keys in his pocket. Kei takes the stairs two steps at a time, nearly tripping before he reaches the ground floor. It’s only two in the afternoon, a strange time when the sun is bright and the roads are relatively clear.
Kei hops on the subway, because as much as he hates the stickiness of public transport, there are no better options. The metal of the railing burns his fingers, but Kei’s head is too foggy to care.
The subway skids to a halt, and Kei registers the driver apologizing profusely. If Kuroo were here, he'd say something about the bags under Kei’s eyes being large enough to carry groceries. Kei nearly misses his stop.
When the subway finally arrives at Kei’s stop, he’s nearly asleep. Kei stumbles out of the subway, and he’s never been more glad that the stop happens to be right in front of his apartment.
Kei crosses the street quickly, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat. Kei knows that if he doesn’t do something about the presence in his apartment, he may never sleep again, so he enters the shop across from his apartment in the hopes of finding medicine.
Kei combs through an aisle stocked with energy drinks and cans of coffee before finding a small bottle of medicine. It’s supposed to knock him out quickly, so Kei approaches the register and walks out the door, but not before leaving a crumpled bill on the counter.
There are cats sitting by the apartment’s main entrance, and Kei wonders why he hadn’t seen them before today. He takes the stairs three steps at a time, and finally makes it to the front door. Kei’s bedroom looks different from the way he left it in the morning—the bed is neatly made and the book he was reading is sitting on the side table.
The kitchen looks different, too, cleaner. Kei just swallows a teaspoon of medicine and downs a glass of water. He slips back into the bedroom before disappearing under the covers, eyes immediately falling shut.
-
When Kei wakes up, it’s five in the evening. Fading sunlight streams through the windows and lands on Kei’s face, forcing him to open his eyes. His eyes canvas the room, eventually landing on his closet door, which stands, slightly open.
Kei grumbles and slides out of bed, frowning at the feeling of the cold floor beneath his feet. Kei turns on the lights as he wonders through the hall. Kei doesn’t consider himself to be someone who gets hungry often, but now, he’s ravenous.
The kitchen is a ghostly sort of quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Kei opens a cabinet and pulls out another package of instant noodles, so much for eating healthy. He nearly cuts his finger on the packaging as he warms water on the stove. Kei wonders if the medicine worked at all, because he finds one cabinet to be open, a cabinet that he did not touch.
Kei is starting to get irritated. As much as he wants there to be an explanation for the strange things happening in his apartment, Kei is running out of logical explanations.
After looking through twenty television channels, Kei opts to eat in silence, since there’s nothing good currently airing. The saltiness of the noodles burns the back of Kei’s throat, yet it’s somehow the best thing Kei has eaten all week.
The door rings, Kei opens the door to see the duo from when he first moved in. Kei scowls, but the loud redhead just beams. “Hi, neighbor!” He extends a hand, “I’m Hinata.”
Kei stays silent, so Hinata continues. “I wanted to visit yesterday, but this guy,” Hinata pauses to poke the dark-haired boy in the side, “kept on trying to stop me!”
The dark-haired boy grumbles, “I wasn’t trying to stop you, dumbass.” He replies, “I didn’t want to be rude.”
“You’re being rude already,” Kei says, “you interrupted my nap.” It isn’t technically a lie, but it isn’t the truth, either. It probably wasn’t a good idea to admit he was napping, Kei thinks, but it doesn’t matter now. Hinata’s hand is still outstretched, so Kei begrudgingly shakes his hand. Normally, Kei would make a comment about Hinata’s height or Kageyama’s general appearance, but something holds him back today.
Hinata looks at him expectantly, and Kei’s frown deepens. “Tsukishima Kei,” he says finally.
The dark-haired boy shifts awkwardly, “Kageyama Tobio.” He adds, not-so-subtly elbowing Hinata in the side.
Hinata seems to catch on, albeit a little too late. “Well, we’ll be leaving now.” Hinata says, before dragging Kageyama away. They don’t even make it down the hall before Kei hears Hinata say, “can you believe how rude he was?”
“We’re the ones who interrupted his nap,” Kageyama replies, and then they’re gone. Kei shuts the door and stalks back to his bedroom.
-
Kei has never been one to take work home, but he’d rather get his project done now than worry about it later. So now, as the sun has set and the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, Kei gets to work.
Kei is only able to get through labeling three more fossils before he realizes something is off. His coffee cup has moved. Kei knows this, having stared at it instead of working on his project. His pen has moved, too, and Kei hopes the air conditioning is working properly, lest he have to deal with an overly-chatty repairman.
It’s getting old, Kei thinks, and what’s worse is that Kei doesn’t know what’s going on. He could finally be going insane, after years of staying calm, or Kuroo is playing an ill-timed prank, but Kei doubts that.
Kei just takes another long sip of coffee, staring his project down as he tries to concentrate. He reaches for a pen, but the pen rolls toward him. He squints, even taking a good look at the table. Sure enough, the table isn’t slanted.
“You’re good at that,” Kei hears, the voice coming from someone he doesn’t recognize. Kei drops his pen, silently debating if he should look up.
Kei finally looks up, and is greeted with something with no logical explanation.
A boy stands in front of him, a shy smile spread across his lips. His hair is silver, although it has grown out enough that it’s mostly brown. Kei blinks before noticing that the boy’s face, along with the rest of him, is dusted with freckles.
He’s see-through, too, Kei realizes as he reaches out to touch him.
Whether it’s due to the lack of sleep or the irritating strangers that were just at his door, Kei is only able to say the first thing that comes to mind.
“What the fuck.”