Chapter Text
The sun beams down against the concrete road, heat radiating off the dark grey surface. In fact, heat seems to radiate from most everything in the small neighborhood. The trees, the grass, the gravel driveways.
A nice breeze sweeps by momentarily every now and then, refreshing and almost heaven-sent in the sweltering weather. It rustles the leaves of the trees and the few small yellow wildflowers that have survived the summer heat and line the ground beneath their shade.
All the houses in this neighborhood look the same, even though they vary in size and figure. They're brick, unassuming and simple. The yards are small, filled with mostly dead grass and fallen leaves.
Normally the grass is much nicer, at least at some of the houses. But the extremity of the temperature seems to have most people shying away from tending their lawns.
With the exception of the few neighbors who have sprinkler systems installed, most of the lawns are a parched brown color. Some houses have flower boxes underneath their windows and gardens on their porches, but the flowers are far from joyful or alive.
The street lights are turned off, as expected, after all it is midday. They're painted black, the glass that contains the lamp is smudged and slightly dirty. It blurs the light when it does shine, but it makes little difference.
The posts are quite old, positioned in equally-spaced spots on the sidewalk. They give off an antique air, not fitting in very well with the newer houses.
The birds chirp, but their joyful twittering is few and far between. They've all hidden themselves away in the cool shadows and on the branches of trees and in the wooden bird boxes nailed to those trees. Their nests have already been built and so that's where they stay. They don't swoop down to catch their meals of worms, seeming quite content for now to rest in peace.
It's starting out to be a slow summer, the type where the days seem almost endless, drawing on and on, and the things to do seem to have disappeared. The neighborhood pool is closed for renovation, in fact, it's been years since it's been in use.
It's drained completely, filled with cracks and dirt and leaves, clearly not in the best condition. Nobody seems to care all that much though, because nothing's been done to patch up the damage.
The nearby park is in good condition, it's just been redone and the equipment is near perfect. However, the current intensity of the temperature and the lack of tree-given shade is enough to keep most kids away from the park. It's a shame too, the town spent good money on the repairs.
Summer camps abound in plenty, but for Tsukishima Kei, boredom is infinitely better than spending all day, stuck in a smelly, badly air-conditioned gym full of loud, obnoxious kids. He's been to many before, they're all the same. Tsukishima is more than content to spend his summer alone, at home.
His mother and brother seem to have other plans for him though.
Akiteru's been obsessing over the fact that there are new neighbors up the street for the past couple of days. Apparently, they have a kid around Tsukishima's age, and while that doesn't really interest him, it sure seems to excite Akiteru.
The subject comes up at dinner, it works itself into the middle of conversations completely unrelated to anything similar. Tsukishima knows his brother only wants the best for him, and he supposes he appreciates it, at least to some degree. But this amount of meddling is starting to get annoying.
He knows Akiteru thinks he's some helpless, lonely kid who's in need of friends. He understands why he thinks that, at least slightly. Akiteru's always been very social, infinitely more so than him. He makes friends easily and seemingly everywhere he goes.
Just last week, he met a girl at the dairy aisle in the grocery store and, in the span of a mere thirty minute conversation, managed to learn not only her name, but the fact that she's an older sibling, she has a pet bird, her little sister just broke a blender, and she's lactose intolerant and just picking up milk for her dad.
Akiteru also seems to be naturally likable. Tsukishima's five years younger than him and he's already come to terms with the fact that whatever engaging qualities his brother possesses have not been bestowed upon him. There's something about Akiteru's demeanor that he doesn't quite have, and he knows he never really will.
He doesn't mind though, he prefers it this way. Other kids his age don't interest him all that much and they don't care for him either. They stick with their little groups and he's perfectly fine with that.
Tsukishima prefers to keep to himself and his thoughts, and he's perfectly capable of entertaining himself. Akiteru, however well-meaning he might be, doesn't seem to get that.
His brother's excited attitude about the neighbors seems to have infected his mother and, while he goes along with it, he doesn't get the ruckus. They have other neighbors. It's not like they talk to them all that much either. He asked his mom about it last night, but she just laughed, ruffled his hair and said he was too young to understand. Which maybe he is, because he has no idea what the fuss over these neighbors is about.
The house they've moved into has been empty for forever and Tsukishima supposes it'll need a bit of fixing. He's ridden his bike past it before. It's a bit different than the other houses, he remembers.
For one thing, it's not brick, which is nice and also way more interesting than it should be to him. The front left window is smashed and the other one is cracked and covered in cobwebs.
The exterior is wood as he discovered upon closer inspection. The dark brown door clashes with the rest of the house. It's decently small, but there's a nice little fenced in backyard with a koi pond. No fish currently occupy it, so it's more of just a rock surrounded hole, but he still thinks it's kinda neat.
He has no clue what most of the inside of the house looks like, but he once peeked through one of the windows. It was dark and dusty and he didn't stick around very long because that was about all there was to it.
Regardless of how unimpressed he is by the entire situation; house, neighbors and all, that doesn't seem to deter his mom in the slightest. She's gotten it into her head that they've got to go and meet the new neighbors, and Tsukishima doesn't think it would do anything if he protested. She rarely seems so enthusiastic anyways, so he decides it won't kill him to comply.
So, that's how he ends up on the front porch of the old, now not-so-abandoned house, standing next to his mom. He glances momentarily back at the mailbox which seems to have fallen over. It lies on the ground on its side, separate from the post. Tsukishima vaguely wonders what happened to it.
He refocuses his gaze on the door, which is not the same drab brown as before. Instead, it's been painted a pale yellow, cheery and bright. Tsukishima stares at it blankly, taking in the intricate flowers engraved in it that he's never noticed before. They're visible now because of the light paint. He doesn't recognize the type of flower.
He's still trying to figure out which variety of flower is imprinted on the door, when it opens, obscuring the carved wood from his view. He blinks. He didn't even hear his mom ring the doorbell.
"Hello?"
He's interrupted from his thoughts by the new voice. He turns his head up to look at it's owner.
It's a woman. She's only a few inches taller than Tsukishima. Her dark green hair is tied back in a quick messy bun, strands of hair falling out every which way. She's wearing a pale cream-colored sweater, which is nice but unusual for the summer.
The sleeves of the sweater are rolled up, which Tsukishima thinks defeats the whole purpose of a sweater. Her expression is one of polite confusion, eyes squinting as if she's trying to determine whether or not she recognizes them.
His mom's quick with a response, flashing a rare bright smile and extending a hand for her to shake.
"Hi, we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I'm Yui Tsukishima and this is Kei."
A small smile flits onto the other woman's face and she nods in greeting, once to each of them, before politely taking his mom's hand. She turns her smile to Tsukishima for a brief moment and he doesn't stop himself from smiling back at her. Her expression is warm and welcoming.
"It's nice to meet both of you. I'm Himari Yamaguchi."
Tsukishima doesn't quite remember exactly when he zoned out. Only that he regrets doing so the moment he regains focus. His loss of focus might have been a result of his interest in the surroundings of the house.
Or maybe it was the fact that adult conversations always seem to bore him. But he feels as if he should have made a bit more of an effort, considering how nice the new neighbor is. Luckily, neither she, nor his mother seem to have noticed, too absorbed in their conversation, so at least he won't be hopefully won't be seen as rude. Even if he is mildly standoffish, he doesn't lack conscience. He'd prefer it if he made a good impression.
He's glad to see they both seem to have hit it off. They're talking on and on, and even if Tsukishima doesn't really understand the topic of their conversation, he's glad his mom seems to be having a pleasant time talking. It's been a while since she's really interacted with any of their neighbors.
But that's not what attracts his focus. Not that, or the car that drives by on the road behind them, or the quiet hum of pop music that can be heard from inside the house. No, it's none of these things.
It's the sudden presence of a young boy by the women's side. Well, not exactly young, he looks to be Tsukishima's age. Maybe a year younger. He's gazing at him curiously and Tsukishima doesn't know what else to do besides stare back. So that's exactly what he does. He stares and observes.
Freckles are one of the first things he notices.
They cover the boy's face, prominent against his tan cheeks. They spread across his forehead and under the creases of his eyes, which seem to smile in the same way his mother's do, though more nervously. His gaze locks on the other boy's collarbones and then arms and he notices that the freckles are present there as well. Tsukishima rips his eyes away reluctantly when he realizes he's been staring.
They meet another pair of eyes. They're a plain brown, but they're still rather nice. They hold a teasing gleam beneath all the shyness. It's not all the obvious, but it's definitely still there. His eyes scan the other boy's face, latching onto the dimples on the corners of his mouth. He's not even smiling all that wide, but they're still there, beaming up at him.
His hair is the same shade of muted forest green as his mother's and equally ruffled. It sticks up in places, somehow managing to maintain a look of softness even with all the pointy edges. He's shorter than Tsukishima and his arms, the ones covered in freckles, rest by his sides.
He's interesting. That's Tsukishima's first evaluation of him.
He hasn't spoken yet, staring up at Tsukishima with a sort of focused intensity. And Tsukishima finds himself blinking, flinching away from the eye contact, if only just for a second. This is certainly something new.
And finally, the boy's mom seems to have noticed that he's there.
"Oh! This is Tadashi."
She lets out a surprised exclamation, gesturing at the freckled boy, who's now smiling awkwardly at both of them. His mom's speaking as well now, waving at him.
"It's nice to meet you, Tadashi. Kei, introduce yourself."
The last bit is rather pointed, accompanied by a look that he knows to mean 'behave yourself', as if she expects him to object in some way. She really didn't need to use that tone because he wouldn't have refused anyway. He's curious now.
"I'm Tsukishima."
The other boy grins at him and he can feel his eyebrows furrow slightly.
"Yamaguchi."
The greeting they exchange is short and curt, to the point. No more words are exchanged, and for the first time in a long time, Tsukishima feels sort of disappointed. He can't quite explain why, which is annoying. He's rarely at a loss for words, or in this case, explanations. He can't tell how he feels about this development.
It's interesting though, just like Yamaguchi. The name fits him well, another thought that crosses Tsukishima's mind, brief and unwarranted. He can't explain that one either and he figures this is about to become a recurring theme. Yet another thing Tsukishima isn't sure about. He seems to have hit a mental road block, just from meeting someone new. It's strange to him, but not completely terrible.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. Not that he'll ever confess it to Akiteru, but he has to give him some credit.
His mom's gone back to her conversation, leaving Tsukishima standing awkwardly beside her. His eyes dart around, both interested and slightly uneasy, in an attempt to gage what he should be doing. He shuffles his feet, eyes locking with the brand new welcome mat situated in front of the doorstep. It looks weirdly textured, but Tsukishima keeps his eyes trained on it.
Gratefully, the other boy seems to sense his mild discomfort. He beckons to Tsukishima, stepping back inside the house as if to give him some room to enter. Tsukishima casts a sideways glance up at his mom. She doesn't seem to notice, still too caught up in her discussion. He figures she won't mind if he slips inside for a minute.
So he follows the green-haired boy, stepping over the threshold and into the house. The other woman doesn't so much a bat an eyelash at him.
It's cool inside, courtesy of the fan that whirs on the ceiling. There are boxes sitting in the corners and on the old living room couch and on the dining room tables. They're scattered every which way and some have toppled over to rest of their sides. Tsukishima vaguely hopes there wasn't anything valuable in them.
The whole house seems to be in a general state of disarray. But somehow, it still manages to maintain a slight semblance of order. Maybe it's the coral-colored tulips positioned beside the pile of boxes on the table or the leafy potted plants that occupy the space beside an entryway.
It's rather nice, now that it's not all dark and abandoned.
Sunlight pours through the glass-paned window, casting a warm glow across the floor. It's still dusty and the dust is only made more visible by the bright light that hits it. The particles float through the air. Tsukishima opens his palm and lets one float down to rest against it. He stares at it for a minute, before closing his hand and yet again following after Yamaguchi.
The boy turns to him once they reach the living room, polite smile still plastered on his face. The dimples are even more noticeable now, Tsukishima realizes.
"Sorry if it was awkward out there. My mom tends to get a bit carried away sometimes."
"I've never met an adult who doesn't spend hours in a conversation. Mine's like that too."
His response is unnecessarily snarky, but Yamaguchi doesn't seem to mind much. He lets out a small, bright laugh, smile becoming yet wider. His previous reserved disposition seems to have completely disappeared now that he's more at ease.
"You're interesting, you know that?"
Tsukishima's eyes narrow.
"I don't."
Yamaguchi takes no offense to the terse remark, instead continuing on just as unconcerned as before.
"Well, you are. You live up the street, right? In the brick house with the red bicycle?"
Technically they're all brick, Tsukishima's brain supplies unhelpfully.
"Yes, I do."
"That's neat! We drove past it yesterday. You have a pear tree in your yard, I think?"
Yamaguchi doesn't seem able to run out of questions. And Tsukishima finds he doesn't really mind it.
"We do. It's kind of dead right now though. It was too cold last summer for the pears to actually grow and the heat this year seems to have damaged the buds. We might get one or two pears, probably no more than that."
The other's lips purse in a pout.
"Hm, that's too bad. There's a strawberry bush in our backyard, but I think it's dead too. It's too bad. I like strawberries."
He sounds so genuinely disappointed over a simple fruit. Tsukishima can't really understand why, even if strawberries do happen to be his favorite fruit. His response comes quickly.
"Maybe it's not completely dead. If you water it regularly and it gets a lot of sun, it might be fine. The sun shouldn't be that much of a problem considering how hot it is outside. It should be okay with the heat too, but I wouldn't count too much on it."
Yamaguchi's lips have turned up at the corners and he nods, listening intently with wide eyes.
"Really? Alright, I'll try that then. Thanks!"
Tsukishima nods curtly in response.
"You're welcome."
And he adds, once the thought is brought to his mind, "Are you going to purchase a fish?"
"What?"
To be fair, the remark is completely out of the blue. It's also apparently enough to make Yamaguchi's facial features furrow in confusion, eyes perplexed and staring straight at him. He seems to be trying to discern exactly what the meaning behind the question is.
Tsukishima realizes too late how random that words are. Yamaguchi has no reason to think Tsukishima's been anywhere near his backyard before, which now that Tsukishima thinks about it, is kind of a weird thing to make known anyway. His intent is not clear in the slightest, and Yamaguchi has every right to be perplexed.
But just as he's about to elaborate, Yamaguchi's expression twists into one of slight understanding. His mouth twist into an 'o' shape and he's quick to confirm his supposed theory.
"Oh, wait, do you mean for the koi pond?"
He's smiling teasingly up at him and Tsukishima can feel his face burning in embarrassment. It's not actually, but it feels like he's caught on fire. The sudden understanding is honestly a bit of a relief, but he still grumbles a quiet reply.
"..Yeah."
Yamaguchi nods, still grinning like a Chesire cat.
"Thought so. And we are! I filled it the pond up with the hose a few days ago, but he haven't had any time to stop by the pet store and get one. When we do though, I want an orange one. Or maybe a white one. And I'm gonna get a covering or something so it's not too hot for the fish. I put some pebbles in too, they're clear and rainbow and stuff. They're real shimmery. Hey, do you know what you're supposed to feed koi fish? Just like, normal fish food? Or anything special? 'Cause I wanna make sure it stays healthy."
He's so certain of it already. He's only been in the neighborhood for a week or so, but he's already planned out the all fine details. Tsukishima doesn't even really even feel like telling him that the cover won't do too much for the fish, considering that how it'll be in cold water the entire time.
Instead, he addresses the question, answering it to the best of his ability.
"They'll be pretty much fine eating regular fish pellets. Shrimp and sardines are healthy for them, so I'd suggest that. I think they can eat fruits and vegetables too, but I'm not really sure. I've never had a fish."
"Wow, you're really smart."
Tsukishima blinks. The words hit him, confusing him just as much as his earlier question had confused Yamaguchi. Nothing he said was even all that impressive, but Yamaguchi's staring at him like he just proved that aliens are real.
He realizes that even with all his observing and thinking, he doesn't understand Yamaguchi at all. That shouldn't be all that surprising, they've know each other all of one hour and in that time span, they've discussed fruit and fish. That's all.
It's confusing to him. Yamaguchi seems so straight forward and he's done and said nothing that proves otherwise. Upon first glance, he seems mostly average.
Still, Tsukishima's left pondering what it is that stumps him so much about him.
He ignores the other boy's words, brushing them off as insignificant. He's not one to dwell on pointless remarks anyway.
"Can I see the pond?"
Yamaguchi nods up at him.
"Yeah. There's not much to it, but it's out in the backyard if you wanna check it out."
Tsukishima lets out an acknowledging hum, eyes glancing over at the door that leads to the backyard.
"Mhm. I do."
"Alright!"
Yamaguchi's skipping ahead of him. He follows absentmindedly behind, reaching the door just as Yamaguchi turns the doorknob and pushes it open.
The yard's familiar, but it's expected considering he's been here before. It looks exactly the same as all the previous times. There's a giant overhanging oak tree with branches stemming off every which way. Its leaves are a fluorescent green, fluttering in the wind. A few of them have fallen to rest against the ground.
A broken swing hangs from one of the branches, dangling precariously by a frazzled rope. The wood is broken in half and it's clearly very old. One of the ropes looks like it's on the verge of snapping completely. Tsukishima doesn't know how he missed it last time he was here.
The grass here is parched like the rest of grass in the neighborhood, but it's slightly less so. The oak tree covers the greenest portion, shading it from the burning sun.
The koi pond's just a few feet away. It has, in fact, been filled up with water. It glistens in the sun, stirring in the wind ever so slightly. A circlet of rocks surround it. They're situated near perfectly, but a few of them have toppled over.
Tsukishima doesn't believe in fairies, but he does think it looks rather like the pictures of fairy rings he's seen in books. The ones that are unleavable after entered. They lure unsuspecting, curious travelers in and keep them there, trapped away from the human world.
His grandmother once told him about a fairy ring she found in the forest when she was a young girl. She spoke of mushrooms growing all around it, pale yellows and purples and pinks. She related to him how the grove she found it in seemed to hum with a peaceful energy, like the trees and flowers themselves were murmuring in greeting. The tinted mushrooms swayed even though there was no wind and they grew to her knees, surrounding small, smooth pebbles and rocks.
The clearing lacked birds and animals of any kind, making it strangely quiet. No ants crawled across the moss-covered ground and the sky was covered by the leaves of the trees.
According to her, she felt pulled toward the ring of stones by a force unseen. The whispering of the plants seemed to grow, only enough to make it noticeable. She had stepped towards it, in a trace-like state, but been shaken from it by a burst of thunder that shook the ground. Rain began to pour and she had taken off quickly, leaving the grove in hopes of getting home before she got completely soaked.
She had tried to find the ring later, after the rain had died down, but after hours of searching, she found it had disappeared over night. The trees seemed the same as all the other trees outside of the thicket, lacking their previous buzz.
She had ended the story there, warning him to stay away from that which was mystical, unknown. He had agreed hastily, more because he wanted to leave than because he was actually worried.
Tsukishima's not one to believe in the supernatural and he doubts his grandmother's story has any credibility.
After all, it doesn't make sense that the fairy ring would just disappear, unless it was crushed by the rain. Even then, some traces would have remained.
However, when he steps down from the creaky, wooden porch to get a closer look at it, he stays at least a solid foot away, just in case.
Yamaguchi's beside him in a second, footsteps falling softly against the ground. He takes a couple steps further, kneeling down beside the rippling water. He sticks out a hand, letting it rest on top of the water, dipping below it to stir it with his hand.
He lifts it from the small pool, cupping the water and letting it splash from his hand to the earth. Leftover water trickles from his fingers, falling in small drops. Most of it disappears against the grass, but some small beads catch on the strands of parched grass, sparkling iridescently.
Tsukishima allows himself to drop to his knees next to the other boy, eyes boring into the clear water. Grass seems to have found away to grow through the stone at the bottom of it, springing up through the cracks. It wouldn't have grown very well above ground in all the sunlight, but it seems to flourish below.
His hands grip at the edges of the pond, fingers now dampened by the water. He removes them, shaking them off to dry them. They feel unaturally cold in the wind.
"So, this is where the fish is gonna be."
Tsukishima blinks, looking over at Yamaguchi.
"I had figured that much."
Yamaguchi seems to realize the uselessness of his remark, because he gives an awkward little quiet laugh, gaze flittering back down to the ground.
"Yeah, I suppose you did."
He repeats the same motion as earlier, letting his hand sink into the water. This time though, he lets his arm follow, reaching until he's touched the cracked stone slabs at the bottom. He retracts it, shaking it over the water, and Tsukishima flinches away from the splattering droplets.
The silence is tense, but it's bearable. Tsukishima keeps his eyes away from Yamaguchi and the dark-haired boy does the same.
And that's how they stay, kneeling by the brink of the koi pond, saying and doing nothing.
It's such an abrupt end to their conversation. Tsukishima almost wants to try to restart it, to say something interesting enough to cause the discussion to pick back up. Almost. He's not that desperate.
So, he keeps quiet, taking in as much as he can.
It's only a few minutes more until his mom appears at the door. He wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't creaked so noisily either. But he does and he turns.
"It's time to go," she tells him. "I have to get started on dinner."
He nods and stands, compliant. Yamaguchi remains resting on his knees, hand braced against the ground for support, but he lifts his free hand to give a small turn-of-the-hand wave to Tsukishima, and then, his mom.
"Bye. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?"
Tsukishima doesn't nod, but instead nods a goodbye.
"Yeah."
And then he's at the door, standing next to his mother, who bids a quick farewell to Yamaguchi, before opening the door. She leaves, Tsukishima follows after. He shuts the door, not looking back.
Yamaguchi's mother waves at them on there way out, seemingly more preoccupied with baking. She's wearing a pale green apron over her sweater now and she smiles over at them. The smell of bread drifts temptingly from the oven. An already finished loaf rests on the counter, golden brown with steam billowing off it. It reminds him of the bread his grandmother used to make.
"Have a good day!"
"You too!", his mother replies.
Then they're out the door, walking down off the porch and onto the concrete sidewalk, past the broken mailbox.
His mother starts talking, but he's no longer paying attention to what she's saying. His eyes stay focused on the cracks on the concrete as he steps carefully over them.
Today was interesting, that's for sure. And maybe, just maybe, a new neighbor won't be that bad.