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The blond across the table from her was unusually twitchy. Which was not twitchy at all by most standards — her brother’s other friends mostly tended towards hyperactive — but Miwa had known Tsukishima Kei for long enough.
“What’s up with you?” she asked.
He jumped. Which, similar to the twitching, was a stiffening and stilling of muscles more accustomed to relaxation.
“It’s nothing,” he tried to deny.
“It’s definitely not ‘nothing’,” she prodded, “but fine. Keep your secrets.”
She checked her watch.
Akiteru was running late.
Miwa hadn’t been surprised to receive the invitation to dinner. She and the Tsukishima brothers got together often enough even when Tobio wasn’t around. While neither she nor Kei were particularly chatty on their own, Akiteru tended to drag conversation along in his wake and Miwa enjoyed herself for the most part.
Not that she didn’t like Tobio’s boyfriend. She just didn’t always understand their dynamic.
Something about her quiet, oblivious little brother just would not reconcile with the sarcastic asshole — Kei would be the first to call himself that — that he’d been dating for the past three years. The sharp words, the bickering, the overall diversion of interests. How much could volleyball tie two people together?
She wondered if she’d understand it more if they were physically compatible — intimacy was an important factor in any relationship — but with Tobio away in Italy from August to April, she imagined that that held less sway over the course of their relationship. Then again, maybe they worked because Tobio was away for most of the year. She wondered if they’d fold if they ever got around to living with each other on a more permanent basis.
Miwa took a sip of her wine. Kei checked his watch, then his phone for the seventh time since they’d been seated. He drummed his fingers on the table and took a sip of his White Russian.
“Fuck it,” he suddenly muttered to himself, lightly slapping his palm against the table. Miwa raised an eyebrow and set her glass down.
He picked up his phone again, tapping a few times before passing it across the table. She gave him a long look before glancing down at whatever he was showing her.
It was a ring: brushed platinum, modern in styling, no stone. Nothing too flashy, nothing too fancy, but still classic. She looked back up at him. Kei was stylish in an effortless, understated way, relying more on fit and color palette than adornments to look good. He wore his glasses and the aforementioned watch — it was a gift from Tobio when he moved, an elegant thing that switched between the time in Tokyo and Rome with a simple push on one of the buttons at the edge of the watch face — and that was it.
“Are you thinking of accessorizing now?”
Kei shot her an unamused glare.
“I’m thinking of proposing to your brother and I value your opinion.”
It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, before she could really even think it over, moderate her words and express her concerns in a more palatable manner.
“Are you sure?”
Kei looked taken aback but not nearly as irate and offended as she expected — maybe he was having doubts about this too? Maybe Akiteru or Tobio had talked him into it, telling him that it was the logical progression of their relationship. Maybe she could be the voice of reason here.
“I mean,” she started. “Think about it. You’ve been dating for three years, sure, but Tobio’s been away for most of that time, so how can you really know, right?”
Gold eyes stared at her from behind horn-rimmed glasses, wide in surprise.
“And what if he moves back home or you move to Italy and things just — just — don’t work? Then you’re not just breaking up, you’re calling off a whole wedding.”
Kei sat back and — oh, there was the anger she had predicted.
“I was actually asking for your thoughts on the ring but please, Miwa-san, tell me how you feel.”
She felt herself flush as she froze, the realization of her mistake sweeping over her.
“The ring is fine,” she said quickly, reaching for her glass again. “It’s nice, actually. He’ll love it.” She couldn’t remember what it looked like at all.
“No, no,” Kei insisted. “Now I want to know what you have against me marrying your brother.”
“I have absolutely no objections to you marrying Tobio,” Miwa answered.
“You didn’t sound like you have ‘no objections.’”
She sighed and tried to explain.
“I have nothing against you, I just — don’t you think it’s too soon?”
His expression hardened. “You think I haven’t thought this through?”
That was the essence of what she had said and Kei wasn’t giving her a way to backtrack from it. Now that the sentiment was out there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Her concerns were valid.
Too many people had left Tobio in his life — their parents, his teammates, herself — she’d gladly sacrifice her sense of amiability to make sure it didn’t happen again.
Because Tobio didn’t deserve it. He was straightforward and almost certainly didn’t realize how he came across half of the time, but he wasn’t malicious. He was loyal — to his team, his friends, his family — and deserved the same loyalty and dedication in return.
Not that Kei was disloyal! But —
She liked Kei. Tobio ostensibly liked Kei too — loved, really, as best she was able to tell. He was happier with the blond than she’d ever seen him before. But they were so different. Kei, with his penchant for sweets, and Tobio, who would shotgun curry pork if he could. Tobio who had a single-minded drive for volleyball excellence versus Kei with his overall intelligence and academic aspirations. Kei, with his teasing barbs, and Tobio, whose head they flew straight over. Tobio who, outside of matches, tended to roll with life’s punches and Kei, whom Miwa would not be surprised to hear had both a five- and ten-year plan.
What would their future even look like? Where would they live? What would Tobio do when he could no longer play professionally? Did they want a family of their own?
Breaking up while dating would be devastating for Tobio. Separating while engaged — or worse, married — would break him. Despite Tobio’s reassurances otherwise, Miwa felt she’d been a deficient older sister for long enough that she was obligated to step up now.
“Kei-kun,” she started, swirling the wine in her glass. “I think you think everything through. But I also think you love my brother, and sometimes love makes us do dumb things.”
She had a personal list of anecdotal evidence more than a mile long.
“So you think I’m making a mistake, then.”
“I think that you think you know what you want but…how can you be certain?”
Kei frowned, then leaned forward, arms perched on the edge of the table. With his height, he was nearly halfway across the table top.
“Miwa-san,” he started. “How can any of us be sure about anything?” He glanced away and took a deep breath before looking back at her. “I lo—” his voice cracked, “love your brother. I love him. I won’t say something sappy like ‘I always have’ because that’s not — that’s not fair to how I feel now, but there’s always been something between us. Even back in our first year of high school, no one could annoy me quite like he could, and I think the reverse is probably true too. But I stuck around when I could have left — he made me stick around when I could have just ignored him and survived in my own isolated sphere.
“And when we were both old enough to pull our heads out of our asses and try, it felt comfortable. I’d gotten so used to working with him on the court that having him in my personal life felt natural.
“I know what we must look like from the outside, but I think that’s the reason why we work. I say things and he picks up on the tone, not the words. He appreciates intention and effort, which are easier for me than saying what I mean. Sometimes he’s frustratingly simple, but sometimes simple is exactly what I need. He’s uncomplicated. Direct. Earnest. And he’s not dumb, you know? He learned Italian once he realized that he’d need it and now he’s nearly fluent. He just...doesn't usually bother.
“I understand what you’re trying to do and I — I appreciate that you don’t want him to get hurt. I don’t want to hurt him either. He’s shaped so much of who I am. He’s…he’s really incredible.
“So maybe I’m not sure, maybe I don’t know. But I do know that he’s worth it. The good times, the bad times, the effort, the fights.” Kei leaned back and shrugged. “All of it. He’s worth it. He’s always given me his all. I want to do the same.”
It was more than Miwa had ever heard him talk in one go, an impassioned plea that she’d have to remember for her wedding toast because how could she not be convinced?
What more could she ask for her brother? There was no pedestal involved here — Kei knew Tobio, the good and the bad, and decided that he was who he wanted.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
She sniffed and buried her watering eyes in her wine glass.
“Show me the ring again?” she asked, reaching across the table.
Kei gave her the small smile that she knew meant he was pleased and passed the phone over once more.
It really was a nice ring. Tobio would love it.
“I think I have one of our grandfather’s chains that would match, in case he wants to wear it around his neck whie he’s playing,” she told him.
His eyes widened before he smirked. “So I have your blessing?” he asked, huffing out a disbelieving chuckle.
“After all that” — she gestured nebulously — “how could you not?”