Chapter Text
“I must have done something terrible to you back then,” Yahaba said as he took a long drag of his cigarette.
Kyoutani didn't say anything at first, just shifted his weight from one foot to the other before he let out a soft, “No”
It was cold that evening and the noises from inside the bar were muffled but cheerful.
“We were close,” Kyoutani continued.
“That's what I was told,” Yahaba exhaled and looked up “It's the first time you’ve told me that though.”
The sky was surprisingly clear. It had been raining for days, a curiously large storm had come through, slowly making its way across the country just the other day. The ground was clean but slick. The colder breeze and the dramatic change in temperature brought caution that Yahaba easily forgot about. He slipped stepping onto the sidewalk earlier.
Yahaba wasn't sure if many of his old classmates would even come to this reunion. It wasn't an official reunion or anything. Everyone just decided to meet up one-year post-graduation. Somehow Yahaba was still invited, he had every right to be invited like everyone else. But it didn't feel right to him, meeting with a bunch of ‘friends’ he no longer knew.
“It's true,” Kyoutani took a few steps closer, “we were.”
Yahaba raised an eyebrow at him. Unsure what to make of the statement and the closing distance between them.
“Then why do you always look at me like that?” Yahaba questioned cynically and also stepped towards the other man, ignoring his elevated heart rate. Now only about a meter in between them eyeing each other hard, “It's been almost a year since I last saw you, aside from the small here or there, but you still look at me like that. Like I. I don't know. Stabbed you in the gut or something. I had to have done something to piss you off that much.”
Yahaba flicked at his cigarette remembering why he started this filthy habit to begin with. His youthful anxiety was now accompanied by stress. And damn if he was stressing out right now because of some guy he found mildly attractive but was clearly holding some kind of grudge against him.
A late breeze wafted the smoke towards Kyoutani and he scrunched his nose at the smell. Yeah, another reason for him to dislike me, Yahaba thought. He definitely needs to quit smoking.
“You used to piss me off, a fuck ton actually,” Kyoutani said with a flat tone that did not reflect the slight upward curve of his lips.
A smirk? Yahaba tried to not roll his eyes. Who the hell smiles about being pissed at someone.
“But,” Kyoutani somehow sounded both shaky and confident at the same time, “I loved you.”
What..?
“And I think at some point if it wasn't misinterpreting things, you might have loved me too”
“What?”
~~~
3 hours earlier
Kyoutani took one last look at himself in the mirror that hung in the entryway of his apartment. He looked fine, nothing special. It's just like going to a bar any other day. But he had to convince himself of this because it definitely didn't feel like going to a bar any other day. Shigeru will be there.
“Fuck” escaped Kyoutani’s lips a little louder than he anticipated.
“Are you sure you want to go alone?” Tsukishima asked from the living room, “we’re roommates and play on the same team, it’s not weird for me to tag along. I may know some of them from high school.”
“Nah, said I’m good,” if Watari showed up, he wouldn't be alone.
He hadn’t expected to get along with one of his former rivals. But after Tsukishima joined the Frogs he learned they were similar in a few ways. Mostly by keeping to themselves and having a history of getting on their setter’s nerves. Tsukishima, being one year younger, had only recently moved to Sendai and Kyoutani was in need of a roommate. So here they were. He didn’t know Tsukishima very well, but he could tell he didn’t really want to ‘tag along.’ In fact, it was weird for him to even offer.
“Your..” Tsukishima paused to pick his next words carefully “former captain, he’s the reason you're nervous right?”
“Not nervous” He was definitely nervous, “well, never mind. Yamaguchi spill everything I said already?”
“Tadashi tells me everything” Tsukishima closed the sports magazine he was flipping through and lightly flopped it onto the coffee table, “my boyfriend and I don’t keep things from each other. Keep that in mind next time you confide in him. I don’t want you lashing out at me for knowing something you want to keep private”
Kyoutani huffed in acknowledgment. The best thing about Tsukishima was his boyfriend. Kyoutani liked Yamaguchi. He wasn't entirely sure why. The last person he instantly liked for no reason was Iwaizume and he is nothing like Yamaguchi. Even Watari, Kyoutani's best friend, couldn't get the words to flow out of him like Yamaguchi did. For some unknown reason, Yamaguchi was just easier. Easy to talk to or be silent around. He didn't push but at the same time could coax deep conversations right out of Kyoutani and understood him with all his lack of words. Why a handsomely freckled guy whose aura screamed companionship would date a tall blond asshole was beyond Kyoutani.
Tsukishima stood and announced he was going to his room to study. Kyoutani was left alone to finish last-minute criticisms of his appearance. He looked basically the same as he did in high school. He wanted to do something different to his hair, move the lines higher up, but he also wanted to stay recognizable. Annoyed that he cared so much he shoved his keys, wallet, phone, and hand sanitizer (because yes people are gross) into his pockets and walked out the door.
_____
The first person Kyoutani saw on his way to the bar was Watari, he wanted to text him earlier to ask if he was coming, he was only really somewhat friends with the volleyball club. These days, with Kindaichi busy as a third-year, Kyoutani was only really friends with Watari at that.
“Kyoutani!” Watari waved from just outside the door of the bar, “glad you could make it!”
“How’re the fish?” Kyoutani huffed as he walked up.
“First off, not all fish, and second, nice of you to ask about fish before your friend” Watari teased.
They crowded inside as a plethora of familiar faces came into view. Old classmates and random people he saw in Aoba Johsai hallways. None of them the face he really wanted to see.
“He’ll be here” Watari all but whispered as he slid by Kyoutani and the wave of ’hello’s’ and ‘how’s it been’ making his way to the bar. He motioned for Kyoutani to follow.
Kyoutani wandered over. Only nodding or grunting at his old classmates who welcomed him or smiled in his direction.
“Liquid courage!” Watari handed him a tall glass of amber liquid with a creamy cloud-like foam on top.
“I don’t-“
“Yes you do,” Watari interrupted, “this is the one and only area in your life that needs courage”
They cheersed and Kyoutani had to remind himself not to finish the glass in one go. Suddenly realizing he is nervous and hoped he wasn’t showing it.
“Plus,” Watari whipped the foam from his lip “a little alcohol glow would hide your inevitable blushing.”
And queue blushing. Damn Watari for knowing Kyoutani so well. And Damn Yahaba being the leading cause of his friendship with the former libero. Damn Yahaba again for being the main reason for the blushing in the first place.
“I don’t blush,” Kyoutani replied, trying mostly to convince himself.
“Then you must be one hell of a lightweight, you're already a little pink” Watari laughed.
The extremely recognizable Watari laugh summoned more of their former classmates over. Watari turned to shake hands and chat with his old friends while Kyoutani resumed sipping his beer. Nodding occasionally but keeping to himself.
It was about 30 minutes into their unofficial reunion, and two finished drinks later, that the root of all nerves and stomach-churning stress decided to finally make his appearance. Yahaba Shigeru.
Kyoutani felt as if he was thrown violently back in time. His initial reflex was to smile. Pure joy threatening to wash away the mask he wears on a daily basis. A facade to look unapproachable because again people, at their core, are gross. Whether it be germs or a rotten personality, Kyoutani preferred distance. His instinctual smile was instantly slapped away by the hand of reality.
Watari noticed. His body now facing Kyoutani and an obvious, ‘you okay’ was going to be next.
Both men are then suddenly distracted by the high-pitched ‘heyyy’s’ coming from the girls in the bar directed towards Yahaba. Of course, he was Okiawa Jr. in the manner of getting the girl's attention. Only far more attractive in Kyoutani’s eyes.
“I know I’ve said it many times,” Watari sighed with genuine concern for his friend “but, Kyoutani you really should talk to him. You need something from him. Closure. Everything was just, too open-ended. The last real conversation you had with him was a fight wasn't it?”
“How am I gonna close something that to him was never opened” Kyoutani cringed at his own wording. Maybe he was a lightweight since he didn’t understand the words from his own mouth.
“Poetic,” Watari inched closer so their conversation would be a little more private “you know what I mean. I don’t have to put it into words. I get you, remember? And, somehow, he’s the one who taught me” Watari nodded towards Yahaba.
Yahaba was rubbing the back of his neck in an apologetic way. The girls didn’t seem disappointed and kept giggling. One even touched Yahaba's forearm. Gross. He got taller, not by much. Just a centimeter or two. His hair was the exact same. Which given the circumstances made a lot of sense.
Frowning at what he can’t have, Kyoutani replied “I don’t think that would be fair to him.”
“Kentarou,” Watari only called him by his given name when he was dead serious. The mood was more intense and Kyoutani wished he had another beer “Be selfish.”
“What?” Wide-eyed Kyoutani asked, not understanding how that could possibly be a good idea.
“I’m serious. You’ve been putting too much of this on yourself. It’s been over a year.” Watari sighed again, knowing why this was hard for Kyoutani but tired for his friend who’d endured in silent pain. “He might be different, but it's still Yahaba. He can handle it, he's a strong guy. He’s handled plenty of what you’ve thrown at him before right? And hey, call me crazy, but maybe things don't have to ‘close.’”
Watari nearly spilled his drink when he lifted his hands to make air quotes around the word ‘close.’ Kyoutani did think he was crazy. Not knowing how to tell his best friend he was fucking nuts, he decided to ignore the last part of Watari’s suggestions.
“You don’t know him like I knew him.”
“Obviously.”
“Thanks,” Kyoutani choked out. The pressure in his sinus warning him could start to cry. Maybe he was putting too much on himself. He hated getting emotional but it happened a lot more in the past year. It’s why he likes Yamaguchi so much, talking and unloading did make him feel lighter “You’re right. Something needs to change and I guess only I can make that happen.”
Now it was Watari’s turn to look at the other with wide eyes.
“But let's take shots first,” Kyoutani flashed his I-am-a-nervous-wreck face very, very, few people had ever seen.
~~~
“Yahaba!” Watari, finally some Yahaba did recognize, was waving him to come over.
Yahaba considered not coming tonight, his anxiety almost didn't let him out the door. But everyone said it would be a good idea. He knew how it would go, it was always the same. His past year was always the same. People looking at him with confusion or frustration written all over their faces. Yahaba’s constant apologizing and overly repeated story. He was exhausted. Exhausted from the repetitiveness. For the past year, he was stuck playing catch up. He was grandfathered into graduating high school and retained none of the information. He had to relearn three years’ worth of education in one year to get into a university. Relearning wasn’t the worst part. He was in advanced classes in middle school which he remembered and something had to of stuck in his subconscious because he was learning extremely quick. The most annoying part was muscle memory. It was like an itch he had no idea how to scratch. Muscles he had developed he didn't know how to use, they ached as they atrophied. He just wanted to play Volleyball. He could join a neighborhood team but he didn’t have time outside of his preparations for university.
Brushing over the sleeve on his forearm that some girl decided to put her hand on, gross, Yahaba walked over to Watari.
“Sorry for being so late,” Yahaba smiled, he noticed the blond rapidly turned his head to not look at him “my private tutoring ran a little long.”
“You’re here now!” Watari beamed and raised his glass “Let’s order you a drink and find a table. Forty-five minutes on a bar stool is all my shortness can handle” Watari waved for the bartender.
Yahaba eyed the blond again wondering how many drinks he had, seeing as his cheeks were already red. Cute. He recognized him too thanks to that damned scrapbook. The patterns in his hair and the uncomfortable body language were also definitely the same.
They found their way to a booth against the wall and started with small talk. What they were doing now and where they lived. Every few minutes someone from their class would pop in to chat but leave shortly after realizing how uninterested two out of the three of them were.
Finishing his second drink since they got to their table and ending his story about some surprise porpoise birth at an aquarium, Watari sighed deep and stretched his arms across the table, as if he was extending his hands to his friends.
“I miss this,” Watari stated “ahhh, sorry. I know you said you feel kinda weird now hearing stories about yourself but, and maybe I’m a little tipsy, but I miss the three of us.”
“We had lunch together every day,” Kyoutani finally spoke “It was...” he didn’t finish whatever that thought was.
Yahaba assumed the blond silenced himself because of the face he was making. Watari was right, he did feel conflicted about stories of a Yahaba he didn’t remember. They made him more mad than happy that someone was filling in the gap. The giant three-year gap in his life that he’s had to deal with for the past year. The giant blank of three years sounded like a great high school life. Yahaba was envious of his own self. It was his life and he desperately wanted that life. The one everyone talked about like he was some kind of movie star. A straight A student and Captain, Freaking Captain, of the Volleyball team. He fucking wanted that life.
He was pissed. Pissed at the Doctors who told him if he hadn’t remembered by now he probably never would. Pissed at whatever surgeon didn’t have steady enough hands or whoever was in that operating room who could have caused this. He was pissed at the human brain that was such a complicated slab of meat that we couldn’t understand enough of to avoid this. Pissed at himself above all else. He couldn’t remember and apparently, it was his own fucking fault.
“It’s okay,” Yahaba flashed a fake smile. Watari was supposedly his best friend in high school. He wondered if he could tell when he was lying.
A server dropped off a glass of water in front of each of them. Apparently, Kyoutani ordered it for them when Yahaba wasn’t paying attention. That’s out of character. Isn’t it? But he was definitely shooting Yahaba with death eyes.
After about the seventh glared from his former Ace, how the hell was this guy MY Ace, Yahaba stood and stated he was stepping outside for a smoke.
“Great idea!” Watari retorted, clearly trying not to react to the fact he very loudly kicked the leg of the table and wincing.
~~~
Kyoutani, recognizing this was his only and last opportunity to talk to Yahaba one on one, followed him. He stepped out the door just as Yahaba put the cigarette to his lips. The setter’s hands lightly cupping his face and the flicker of light illuminated the tip of his nose and glistened in his eyelashes. Yahaba, just noticing Kyoutani followed him, pocketed the lighter and let out his first exhale.
Finally able to look Yahaba in the eyes for the first time that night, Kyoutani remembered how easy it used to be around him. Suddenly he felt so stupid. So stupid for not talking to him properly a year ago. Stupid for not trusting Yahaba with his feelings.
The Yahaba he knew, Shigeru, would be saddened to know they weren’t still together. Kyoutani now felt like he had betrayed everything he had given and received from the boy he loved. His Shigeru would be hurt by what Kyoutani had done, or lack thereof. That filled Kyoutani with the confidence (alcohol also helped) he needed to say what he should have said a year ago. His Shigeru was right here in front of him.
Only now he smokes,
“You smoke?”
“Yeah,” Yahaba swallowed and Kyoutani tried not to make it obvious he was staring at his exposed neck “another new thing I picked up.”
“You really are-”
“Like a different person?” Yahaba bluntly interrupted, “Haven't heard that one before.''
Yahaba squinted across the street like focusing on something far away would remove the bitterness from the next thing he was going to say.
“I must have done something terrible to you back then,” Yahaba said as he took a long drag of his cigarette.