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Training camp had been so different with Karasuno there. First of all, captains meetings were at least ten times more entertaining because of all the shit Kuroo gave Daichi. Second, the tall french fry of a middle blocker made a nice addition to their extra practice group. ‘Third Gym’ as Bokuto and Kuroo called it. ‘Literal Hell’ was Akaashi’s name for it.
“Nice block, TsuKki!” Bokuto could remember himself saying hundreds of times. After the second day of Tsukishima practicing with them, he was about to shut down about a third of Bokuto’s spikes. Which might not seem like it was that good, but given that Bokuto was the fourth best spiker in the country, it was pretty damn good.
But Tsukishima never seemed to really notice his praise. Never responded to it. Never said anything back. He talked to Kuroo. They talked about different techniques and Kuroo gave him lots of pointers and they’d laugh and get along great. But Bokuto never got a word spoken to him, at least not individually.
“You’re overthinking it,” Akaashi would say whenever Bokuto brought it up. “He doesn’t really talk to anyone.”
But Bokuto couldn’t stop thinking about it. And it hit him like a ton of bricks as Karasuno was loading their bus to head back to Sendai.
They stood together, the four of them from the Third Gym, close by to Karasuno’s bus. Tsukishima was about to go, and it was time to say goodbye.
“This week was actually kind of fun,” Tsukishima said quietly. “I learned a lot, and I really appreciate it. Thank you, Kuroo-san.”
Kuroo-san.
He boarded the bus, and Tsukishima was gone. No thank you to Bokuto. No goodbye just for him.
Overthinking it, he thought to himself as he followed Akaashi back into the school. I’m over thinking it.
But that still didn’t make it any less painful.