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Heartbreak never really was Yamaguchi’s thing.
Admittedly, this is only like, the second time it’s ever really happened--and it didn’t feel like it hurt this much the last time it happened. It feels so painful, heartbreaking, and sad and he doesn’t know what to do but cry.
He can’t cry, though, and he can’t figure out why. He did at first, on the first day; tears in the shower as he choked out broken sobs that didn’t feel anything like him at all, and he doesn’t cry like this, doesn’t hurt like this way usually. Not unless it’s Tsukishima, his Tsukki, or who used to be his Tsukki, and it hurts so goddamn much.
He’s still stuck, though, and not sure what to do. Yamaguchi knows the five stages of grief, too: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. He wishes he could skip all of it and go straight to Acceptance already; accept the fact that he no longer has a boyfriend who has any interest or love in him and it really, really fucking hurts.
Yamaguchi's not sure if Tsukishima really doesn’t love him anymore, per se, but it feels like it. It felt like it at the end, too, when Yamaguchi could give him absolutely everything and Tsukishima would just shrug or brush him off, like it hadn’t really mattered; like the brunette was someone who could just easily forgive and forget constantly. He’s not, though, and he figured Tsukishima would have known by now--by then, whatever.
Right now, Yamaguchi figures he’s in the stage of denial.
It hurts, too. It hurts more than he could ever expect; a sharp pain in his chest when he remembers all the ‘I love you’s and the times that they laughed, even if it was just about stupid things. About a dumb celebrity, or the lyrics in the song of a boyband, or how bad Yamaguchi is at singing but how he could bring Tsukishima to his knees with his cooking, or the pillow fights, the kisses and the hugs--and it hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts so much he doesn’t want to feel it at all, and there’s nothing to do except sit in his room and stare at the ceiling, and regret, regret, regret everything.
It hurts more than he feels like it should.
He's already deleted Tsukishima’s number; probably dumb on his part. He hasn’t deleted their messages, however, and he goes through them and laughs at the blonde’s overuse of emojis; Yamaguchi once had to tell him that he sounds a bit hostile because his text messages were so emotionless. So he started using them-- like putting cheesy heart eyes after ‘I love you’ or winking when saying ‘you looked good today’ and it was a nice thing to see him be so open, even if it was cheesy, but at least Yamaguchi could read his emotions better.
Not enough, though, apparently, because often something was always up with the other, and he would never say what, would just give him snotty attitude and Yamaguchi would get angry and not reply for a whole week unless the other said something first. They’d been dating for a year and he thought it would’ve been resolved by then, but it hadn’t. Yamaguchi's chest aches thinking about it.
Tears well up in his eyes, but he can’t force them to come out. He knows crying is good for him, especially in times like this, Yachi had even told him so. The person he’d gone to first was her, too, and she knew the whole situation and why they broke up exactly. It was because Tsukishima was so selfish with how he acted, and Yamaguchi didn’t mind, he’d always been that way a bit; closed off, protecting himself of course. It just so happened that when Tsukishima was in a bad mood he wouldn’t give any love, even if Yamaguchi would sit there saying, “hey, I love you, I’m here for you” the blonde would respond so casually with “mhm” or “yeah”. He knew Tsukishima better than anyone, or, at least, thought he did. Yachi is the one who has to point out that this wasn’t how a normal relationship worked, and that Tsukishima's love for him shouldn’t depend on his mood; shouldn’t depend on the time of day when or not Yamaguchi would gain any love from the other.
It doesn’t register in Yamaguchi’s mind at first that it’s strange. It’s the way it’s always worked between them, but when things started to get more difficult than usual he had to turn to someone, and Yachi was his first choice because she’s his best friend, and admittedly, he couldn’t get a hold of Sugawara at the time, either. It wasn’t that Yachi didn’t give good advice or wasn’t there for him; it was just that Sugawara had more experience with these types of situations, and it was easier for him to talk to Sugawara about this for some reason. In a strange way, the setter reminded him of a mother.
It didn’t matter, though, in the end. Yachi had at least kept him from going out of his mind when he needed to vent, and he and Tsukishima couldn’t even have this conversation in person because Yamaguchi is filled with constant anxiety, so it’s 1AM when he texts the other, sleepless, to tell him they need to talk.
Obviously, it doesn’t go well. Tsukishima isn’t very patient, and Yamaguchi is doing his best to navigate between messages from Tsukishima himself and screenshots he has to send to Yachi. She’s the one up with him, guiding him; supporting him to get out of this mess, convincing him that Tsukishima is just being abusive, and it hurts Yamaguchi more than anything else to hear that.
It ends soon after that. Yamaguchi gets frustrated, Tsukishima tries to blame his problems on Yamaguchi; so Yamaguchi gets absolutely furious and says “I don’t want to be with you anymore” and that’s his way of breaking up with Tsukishima. His now ex-boyfriend doesn’t reply, and now Yamaguchi can’t help but absolutely sob, and Yachi is so worried that he’s not replying that instead she just calls him.
He sobs into the phone, and she tries to calm him down, saying “it’s okay, he wasn’t worth it, you deserve so much better” and he cries harder because Yamaguchi has never really felt worth anything, let alone Tsukishima. The one person in the world he trusted most, who he thought he could maybe possibly love for the rest of his entire stupid life, and it hurts to think that they fell apart just because Tsukishima had to be so goddamn selfish.
It’s been a few days, now, but Yamaguchi still hurts. He still hasn’t changed his phone background, which is a bad move on his part, because it’s a picture Tanaka snapped of him and Tsukishima. Their foreheads pressed together, and Tsukishima’s smiling at him, a genuine smile not many people get to see; a smile Tsukishima mostly reserved for him because he knows he loves it, and Yamaguchi still loves it, dammit. It hurts.
It’s not just a regular kind of hurt, either. It’s the kind of hurt that shakes you down to your very core; makes you want to curl up and die or cry or something, but he still can’t cry. He can't do anything but lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling and wish something was different.
He thinks that now he’s in the stage of Depression.
Yamaguchi knows the five stages of grief don’t always go in order, and they skip around and sometimes you don’t even go through a few of them, either. He pretty much knows at this point that Bargaining won’t happen, because Yachi and Sugawara would absolutely kill him if he tried, and he doesn’t want to go back anyway. He doesn’t want to go back to the depression of constantly waiting around for the other. Besides, he realized he never really got anything done when he did wait around, anyway.
So he sighs, prays that his chest stops aching and curls up on his side. That’s when he hears a knock at the door.
“Tadashi, your friend is here,” his mother says through the door, and he thinks, oh god, it’s Tsukki, he’s here.
“They can come in,” he says, sitting up on his bed as his mother opens the door.
“Alright, come on in,” and his mother let’s someone into his room, but Yamaguchi’s not paying attention, just staring at the floor.
“Thank you very much,” a voice says, and it’s not Tsukishima’s, it’s female. He recognizes it; from over the phone and from their year of friendship together, and he looks up in surprise. It’s Yachi. His mother smiles at them and then leaves, shutting the door for them to talk.
“Oh, I thought you’d be Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, staring up at her with eyes that look tired; large, dark circles underneath that make them not look anything like his own.
“No, just me,” Yachi replies, and sets her bag down by the door, sitting on the bed next to Yamaguchi. “You weren’t answering my texts, so I was worried. I rushed over right away.”
“Sorry,” Yamaguchi responds, rubbing a hand down his face. For some reason, he already feels the tears pricking at his eyes, and his breath stutters as Yachi brings her hand up to rub at his back. His voice cracks with emotion when he continues, “it’s just been really stressful, you know?”
Yachi nods, and then Yamaguchi twists his body and hugs her suddenly, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he suddenly starts crying, his body shaking with silent sobs. She’s definitely surprised, but hesitantly wraps her arms around him, hugging him close and petting his hair.
“I-It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs, and she’s a bit embarrassed, but Yamaguchi needs it--he needs her.
“Thank you,” he whispers after a while, when his shaking stops and he’s just still hugging her while she pets his hair, sighing a bit.
When he pulls back, she smiles at him, and he thinks that maybe things could be okay.