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Yaku had a talent of messing his personal relationships up. It had happened time and time again, in a pattern he was fully, absolutely aware of but powerless to stop. He would get to know someone, they would get too close for comfort, he would lash out at them, and Yaku would find himself alone yet again.
But, he had been getting better at it over the last few years. The first step to fixing a problem was admitting that you had one, and Yaku was fully aware of his problem. He had been working on trusting people; on letting them get to know him; on letting them get close. He had even managed, through this effortful openness, to get a boyfriend who was as sweet as spun sugar.
However, some habits were harder to break than others.
“Why do I do this to myself?” Yaku asked miserably, staring desolately at his melting popsicle.
Kuroo, who was sitting beside Yaku on the park bench, glanced sidelong at him. “I’d say it’s because you don’t eat your ice cream fast enough,” he observed blithely.
“No, not this,” he said, waving the popsicle and making syrup splatter on the ground. “This. This thing where I make people mad at me.”
“I don’t know. It’s definitely a serious character flaw.” He sucked on his own popsicle for a moment. “So... Lev’s mad at you?”
Yaku looked over at him, surprised. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “He’s the only first year who you would be this gloomy over. The rest of the team has already gotten used to your terrible personality.” Kuroo glanced over at Yaku, wearing a lazy smile, but it slipped slightly when Yaku continued to stare out towards the horizon gloomily. “Hey, I’m kidding.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, “But you’re right. I ruin everything.”
“That’s not true. You don’t ruin everything.”
Yaku scoffed derisively. “Lev is mad at me! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him angry before this! He hasn’t texted me in like two days, and every time I see him at school, it’s like he doesn’t even see me!”
“Oooh. Silent treatment, huh?” Kuroo sucked thoughtfully on the last bit of his ice cream. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen Lev mad, either. Didn’t know he could do that.”
“I know!! I really fucked up, Kuroo,” he moaned, raking his hand through his hair. “I have no idea how to make it right.”
“Well, how did you make it wrong?”
Yaku shrugged helplessly. “I don’t even know. One day everything’s fine, the next day it’s like I don’t exist. I must have done something, but I don’t know what.”
“Have you asked him what you did wrong?”
He gave Kuroo a withering look. “I would have to exist to ask him that.”
“True.” He sighed, and spread his arms out on the bench, looking out towards the horizon as well. “I mean, it’s Lev. He’s the sappiest kid I’ve ever met. Spout some cliche romcom thing at him and I’m sure he’ll be too busy swooning to stay mad at you.”
“Romcom thing?” Yaku wrinkled his nose in confusion and distaste. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “Flowers, singing at him, epic confessions of love... you know. Romcom stuff.”
The disgust on his face deepened. “That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, well. That’s the kind of stuff Lev likes.”
Yaku hummed thoughtfully, turning the idea over in his head. It did sound super embarrassing, and exhausting, but... it did also sound like the kind of stuff Lev would like. If he had to describe Lev’s ideal activities, “exhausting” and “embarrassing” would definitely be in the list of descriptors.
But, he had no idea where to begin. Yaku avoided romantic comedies as a rule: they were irritating, and boring, and ridiculous. He had no idea what kind of romantic stuff happened in those movies. Lev would love to be treated like one of the heroines in the movies, but... Yaku didn’t know how to do that.
Which was how, later that night, he found himself poring over Wikipedia and TV Tropes, reading dozens of plot summaries of romantic comedies, and taking messy notes in his notebook to brainstorm ideas. Yaku read until his eyes ached, and then he read some more, until he collapsed from exhaustion. He fell asleep with plot summaries bouncing around and mixing in his mind.
When he awoke, though, he had come up with a foolproof plan: he would borrow the confessions from these movies to win over Lev’s heart. Yaku didn’t really understand how or why they worked, but, then again, he didn’t understand romantic comedies to begin with. To someone like Lev, who lived their life like they were in a romcom, these confessions were bound to work like a charm.
According to TV Tropes, the most infamous confession of love in a romantic comedy came from a 1989 movie called Say Anything. In that movie, the protagonist had stood outside his love interest’s house, holding a boombox over his head, playing a romantic song. She had woken up in the morning listening to that song, and somehow, that was a big romantic gesture.
Yaku didn’t really get the appeal, truth be told, but if it was an infamous scene, it was probably considered romantic, right? Lev would probably like it, right?
That line of reasoning was how Yaku found himself outside Lev’s house at 5:25 am the following morning. He knew Lev usually woke up at around 5:30 to get to morning volleyball practice, and he figured that this would be a good compromise. (Because, romance or not, waking someone up earlier than they needed to be up was just cruel.)
The only problem was that Yaku didn’t have a boombox. He didn’t know if they even made them anymore. What he did have, however, was his phone with music on it.
So, feeling more than a little stupid, shivering in the morning chill, he held his phone high up above his head with both hands, and pressed play.
It was some Taylor Swift song that he knew Lev liked from hearing him sing it. Something about Romeo and Juliet... he didn’t really know.
His phone was on top volume. Yaku had wondered if it would be loud enough to be audible from inside the house, but, in the still morning air, it was almost jarringly loud.
Yaku felt himself turning red. This was ridiculous.
No, this was romance. Kuroo had said the way to get Lev back was romcom stunts. This was one of them. It was about sacrificing your dignity -- that much was becoming clear. He took a deep breath, and trained his eyes on Lev’s bedroom window (which, thankfully, faced the street, and was cracked open), and waited.
He waited a long time. The verses passed, Taylor Swift warbled about her Romeo and Juliet nonsense, and Lev made no sign of appearing.
Oh god. What if he didn’t show up at the window? What if he couldn’t hear the song? What if he slept through it?
Just as the last chorus was playing, however, Lev appeared at the window, squinting down at the street. Yaku straightened out his arms, willing the music to play even louder.
Lev stared at him for a moment, and then, frowning, closed his bedroom window with a bang. The curtains shuttered close.
The song ended, and the street was once again silent.
Yaku decided, as he walked away, his face hot, that perhaps waking someone up with a song was stupidity, not romance, after all.
That didn’t mean that the plan was completely worthless, though. He had just chosen the wrong romantic comedy. That was just poor luck, really; there seemed to be a nearly endless number of them. Statistically, choosing the right one was impossible.
The next one Yaku tried was one called 10 Things I Hate About You, which, despite the title, was reportedly a wildly popular romantic comedy.
In that one, according to Wikipedia, after the female protagonist finds out that the love interest was being paid to go out with her (although, in typical saccharine fashion, he had actually fallen in love with her in the process), he gained back her favour by buying her an expensive guitar.
Seemed simple enough. It was foolproof, really. Gifts were a great way to romance someone. It was tried and true, and Yaku, thanks to his disgustingly rich parents, had the means to make it really work.
The next day was a Sunday, and therefore Yaku had the entire day to go looking for the perfect gift. Generally speaking, he tried to avoid the mall at all costs, especially on a weekend. Under the current circumstances though, it was really the least painful solution to his problem.
It still was painful though. Four hours and five shots of espresso in his body later, Yaku left the mall with a pink plastic giftbag clutched in his hand, full of confidence that he had made the right decision.
In the movie, the gift hadn’t been directly to the protagonist; it was left for her to find. Yaku didn’t really understand how that was more romantic than just directly giving the gift to them, but clearly, he wasn’t the expert.
So, early the next morning, he snuck into the first year’s row of shoe lockers, found the one with “Haiba Lev” written on it, and deposited the neatly-wrapped (courtesy of the mall’s service counter, as lord knows he couldn’t have wrapped it himself without 23 pieces of tape) box into his locker.
Then, feeling more than slightly creepy, he hid in the next row of lockers and waited nonchalantly for Lev to show up.
It was a less than brilliant plan. As students slowly showed up, he attracted more and more stares and whispers. He ignored them, glowering at anyone who stared at him for too long.
“What are you doing?” Yaku turned around, scowl already fixed in place. Kenma was staring blankly at him.
“I, um...” he trailed off, ineffectively. He had no idea how to explain this.
Kenma stared at him for another moment searchingly, and then shrugged and walked off. “Don’t get arrested.”
Yaku watched him walk away, feeling despair grow in his gut. This really was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? It was just like the stupid boombox idea. He should just leave.
“I dunno, I think I’d rather be a bird than a dolphin...”
He quickly whipped his head around. He would know that voice anywhere. Carefully, quietly, he crept forward, so he could see into the next row of lockers. It was too late to back out of this now.
Lev was walking with Inuoka and Shibayama, as he did every morning, and was grinning brightly at Shibayama. Yaku’s heart ached; he hadn’t seen that smile directed at him in what seemed like centuries.
He reached forward to open his locker, and Yaku held his breath, watching for his reaction.
Lev stopped and stared at the box. He turned, self-consciously, to look over at his friends -- but they were preoccupied with their own shoe lockers. He pulled the box out, and stared down at the note. He scoffed. He pulled out his indoor shoes, shoved his runners into the locker, and tossed the box on top of them. He closed the locker, and walked away.
Yaku watched the whole thing with open-mouthed shock, icy cold shame slowly creeping through his veins.
Okay, so, that was a bad idea, he thought morosely. He had made his way into his classroom, somehow -- muscle memory was truly incredible -- and was sitting at his desk, head buried in his folded arms. The gift thing hadn’t worked. He thought it was a good gift -- Lev had been saying for awhile how he wanted a watch, and that had been the most expensive one in the store... but somehow, it had not worked.
Lev had scoffed at it. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Lev scoff before. He hadn’t known that he was capable of it.
Maybe Yaku was just picking the wrong movies. He had struck out twice, now. Truth be told, the first idea had seemed idiotic. The second one had seemed okay, but... maybe Lev already had a watch. Or something.
He needed to pick something truly romantic, truly incredible... truly Lev.
It came to him instantly. Of all the movies Wikipedia had suggested, only one -- save the Disney movies, which he couldn’t honestly figure out how to make work in a world without magic spells -- had seemed truly fairy tale-esque enough for Lev.
There was no time to waste. The more time he spent with Lev mad at him, the madder Lev would get that Yaku hadn’t made it right yet.
It wasn’t until Yaku was standing outside the Haiba house again -- this time in the evening, after volleyball practice, when Lev was sure to be awake already -- that he realized that Lev didn’t have a fire escape.
In the movie Pretty Woman, the male protagonist had climbed up the fire escape to woo the female protagonist, conquering his fear of heights and also “rescuing” her.
Yaku was afraid of heights. He had roses. He had “La Traviata” loaded onto his phone to set the mood music (or, at least, the mood music according to the movie).
But Lev lived in a standalone house, not an apartment. There was no fire escape ladder. There was only a roof, about 7 feet off the ground, that, if Yaku could reach it, would lead directly to Lev’s window.
He eyed it apprehensively. He supposed that would have to do. He pressed play on his phone, stuck the rose bouquet stems in between his teeth, and started his attempt.
Two minutes later, after Yaku had made exactly zero progress and had nearly ripped the gutter off the edge of the roof, Lev’s sister Dina opened the front door.
“Hey,” she said, levelling an impressively unimpressed look at Yaku.
Yaku was panting. “Dina! Thank god. Can you ask Lev to come to his bedroom window?”
“He’s in his room. He knows you’re outside.”
Sweat dripped down the nape of Yaku’s neck. “O-oh?”
“He says go away.”
He stared back at Dina for a second, sizing her up. She had never approved of Yaku, and had often made fun of him. He wasn’t sure if this was another instance of her being a jerk, or if this was the unfortunate truth.
Yaku looked up at Lev’s bedroom window. He made eye contact with Lev for half a second before he darted out of sight, behind the curtains.
On the way home, he gave the roses to an elderly lady sitting at the bus stop; he felt bad just throwing them away. When he glanced back, the bus had picked her up, but the roses sat on the empty park bench.
When he got home, Yaku sat and stared unseeingly at the scribbled list of romantic comedies next to his laptop. Maybe this was all pointless. Maybe he really had fucked up things once and for all.
He had tried three times, and been shot down each time. He had played music for Lev. He had given him an extravagant gift. He had attempted to climb up to the second storey of a house. Honestly, what else did he have to do??
On the list of romantic comedies, there was one that was circled and underlined. It was, according to his sources, The romantic comedy: the one that was better than the rest, the one that was the most romantic, the most sentimental, the most... Lev.
Yaku grit his teeth and frowned down at it. If this didn’t work... then he would give up. No more stupid stunts. No more bothering Lev.
This one took a few days to set up. He had to actually think about this one and plan it out. He did consider just copying the speech from the movie, word-for-word, but that probably wouldn’t work. Lev would recognize it.
No, this... this had to be for Lev.
Yaku waited until after volleyball practice. He waited until after Kai and Kenma and Kuroo and all the rest had filtered out of the gym. It was Lev and Inuoka’s turn to put away the volleyball nets. Yaku waited outside the changeroom doors, arms folded over his pounding chest, waiting.
He knew from previous experience that Inuoka didn’t change after afternoon practice, so it would be just Lev and him alone. That was probably for the best.
Sure enough, Inuoka burst out of the changeroom doors first, hollering out a goodbye to Lev before he jogged away from the school. Yaku swallowed a knot that had been growing in his throat, and kept waiting.
The next time the doors opened, Lev was the one to walk through. Unlike Inuoka, who hadn’t seemed to notice him at all, Lev immediately looked at Yaku.
His expression slid from surprised to cold, and Yaku’s stomach clenched. Lev opened his mouth to speak, but Yaku was ready. He had been ready all day.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, I love you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, fast and easy like water pouring from a vase.
Lev gaped at him.
He continued on, letting his tongue spill the words before his brain caught up to it. “I love that you wear horrible clashing clothes and somehow still make it look great. I love that you have endless amounts of energy even after 4-hour practices. I love that you stick out your tongue just a little bit when you’re thinking hard about something, even though you don’t realize it.
“I love that after I spend a day with you I can still smell you on my clothes and I love that you are the last person I want to text before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because you’re mad at me. I came here today because when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
“Did...” Lev finally spoke. “Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?”
Shit. Maybe he hadn’t altered it enough.
The startled expression on Lev’s face shifted into a frown that was becoming all too familiar to Yaku. “Is this just another romcom attempt at impressing me, or... did you actually mean it? What you said.”
Yaku had spent hours poring over his notes, getting the phrasing just right, staring at the words and wondering if they were true. He wouldn’t have said it if they weren’t. “Yeah, I meant them.”
The frown softened a little, but didn’t disappear entirely. “Do you know why I was mad, Yaku?” he asked, with a little sigh.
Yaku paused for a moment. Now that he thought about it... “No,” he admitted, sheepishly.
“I told you that I loved you, and you told me you had to go home.”
Now it was Yaku’s turn to gape.
“Last week? When you were over at my house... We had pudding for dessert? We watched ghost hunter shows until I made you change the channel?”
Oh god. The memories were flooding back to him now. They had been curled up on Lev’s bed, watching dumb TV shows, and Lev had kissed his neck and told him that he loved him. And Yaku...
“It’s okay if you don’t love me back yet, Yaku.” Lev crossed his arms over his chest. His lower lip jutted out slightly in a pout. “But just... don’t run away. Okay?”
He swallowed thickly. “Okay.”
He jerked his head to the side, towards the road. He was smiling a little bit now. “Wanna go home?”
Yaku could feel the tension falling off of him. “Yeah.”
They walked together in silence. Things still weren’t fixed. There was still a gap, both physical and emotional, between them, that wasn’t there a week or two ago. But, it was better than it was the day before, at least.
“So... you meant it?” Lev asked, glancing sidelong over at Yaku. He was wearing a shy smile.
“Meant what?”
“That... y’know. You love me and my tongue and my energy and my clothes.”
Yaku felt a hot flush creep up his neck. It sounded distinctly different when he phrased it like that. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, mutely.
Lev hummed softly. “Then... why did you run away?”
He owed it to Lev to be honest, and thoughtful, and everything he hadn’t been lately. So, he took a moment to think about it before he spoke.
“Because...” Yaku gestured uselessly at the air. “I... can’t be that guy for you. I can’t be Richard Gere. Or Billy Crystal. Or Heath Ledger. Or... that other guy.”
Lev raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “I know that, Yaku.”
“I can’t give you that... romantic comedy fairytale bullshit. That’s not me.”
“I know that.” His smile looked a little painful. “I think I’ve got enough of that for both of us. You just be Yaku. That’s who I love.”
Truth be told, Yaku still didn’t quite believe him. He didn’t know if a week, a month, a year down the road, Yaku being Yaku would still be enough.
But for now... He was willing to try.
“Also, just for future reference,” Lev said suddenly, glancing over at Yaku, “My favourite romcom is Legally Blonde.”
He frowned quizzically at him. “What happens in that one? How does the guy win the girl’s heart?”
He beamed at Yaku, and reached out to grab his hand. “He doesn’t do anything. She falls for him, just as he is.”