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Tsukishima can’t stop shaking. The itch under his skin is as debilitating as ever and he wishes that he could just turn himself inside out in hopes of getting rid of whatever it was that was agitating him. He knew doing something as drastic as that would hardly work though. This ache was deeper—seared into his very bones. Each cell that died and the new ones that were brought to life held the torrent of emotion that tortured him to no end.
His main solution to relieve that ache was impossible at the moment, and highly inconvenient for those of concern. It was strange to feel this way because even as a child, he had been known to be fairly independent. He was always praised in school for keeping to himself and being so self-sufficient for his age, and it was something he used to be very proud of.
Now all that praise and pride seemed to be biting him in the ass. How could it even cross his mind to call his mother and brother at a time like this—and on a work night too. Besides, they over-worried like no other. Akiteru would rush over, no matter what, come rain or work in the morning. His mother would scold him, and use it as a justifiable reason as to why he should've picked a college closer to them. (He wasn’t even that far, his mother was just being a mother.) All that constant nagging while living with them used to be a nuisance for Tsukishima, but now he would give anything to be fussed over by his family.
It would certainly keep him grounded as the pain in his ankle spiraled out of control. He tests it out, lifting it up and down, attempting (and failing) to rotate it. Nope. It’s definitely twisted. He manages to lift himself off the sidewalk with his good leg and tries to even his weight to start the journey back to his apartment. He catches himself before he falls again. It’s no good. He grimaces.
He checks the busy street, where he catches—much to his dismay—the eye of several curious viewers, some who saw his first fall and others who can tell that something’s not right. He chooses to ignore them with the downturn of his eyes, once again focusing on his rolled ankle. He blows out a puff of air, dreading the future conversation he knows he’s going to have with his coaches. He’s lucky in a way; the Sendai Frogs just entered their off-season.
Surely, if he called Kyotani or Koganegawa, they would come running on behalf of his family. Seeing as they doubled as his roommates and teammates, they would be the ones to care for him the most in the following months. He didn’t think it would be so bad but it wouldn’t alleviate the ache that settled as the throbbing in his ankle circulated through the whole of his body.
There was only one person he actually wished to call, and that he could call. He would always make time for him. He would come running—if only Tsukishima asked. That’s why he can’t though. He sighs and checks the time. A quarter past ten. He better start heading home on his own then.
He stalls again by picking at the new hole in his pants, the one he created when he tried to catch himself. He supposes another reason he refused to inform anyone as of this moment is that he would have to admit that he twisted his ankle by stepping off a goddamn sidewalk. He can practically hear the snickers from Hinata and feel the disappointment coming off in waves from Kageyama for not paying enough attention. The thought of the duo’s reactions lifted his spirits, no matter how much he would hate hearing it from them later. Yachi would most definitely insist on calling an ambulance for him. He smiles at the thought of how frantic she would be about it too. It’s short-lived when he takes a particularly heavy step on his bad ankle on the way to the train station.
The last person he thinks of—Yamaguchi—he knows would take the first train from their hometown to his apartment. Tsukishima knows he’s not strong enough not to ask the man to drop everything in Tokyo to come visit him. He knows that Yamaguchi would.
Even if he did try to hide it, the call coming in near midnight would definitely raise a few alarms since he was the type to be in bed earlier than that. After all, Yamaguchi knows him best. He would catch on to the wrongness just by the strain of his voice.
It was a curse sometimes that he was known so well. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he stops simultaneously to catch his breath (this limping business was a serious workout) and to reach for the device in his back pocket. A familiar name and picture flashes on the screen. Speak of the devil. *Can that saying refer to angels too? It should.* He wonders this as he takes the call.
“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi practically sings his name. A lump in his throat steadily starts to form. “I got out of work late today and I thought for sure you’d be in bed by now. Lucky me I guess!” The hurrah and giggle his boyfriend lets out relaxes his shoulders.
He doesn’t trust his mouth to say anything though. He feels the plea right at the root of his mouth (a choking hazard if anything), wanting to try his good luck and ask Yamaguchi to come see him. He steers clear of it and hums in acknowledgment instead.
Yamaguchi knows him though—has always known him. “Hey, is everything okay?” There’s a softness in the question, a space for Tsukishima to tell him everything, and a reassurance that Yamaguchi will be listening intently.
He gives up on hiding the truth. It’s not worth it anyway. The wrath that would rain down upon him once Yamaguchi were to find out at a later time would be worse than experiencing the nine circles of hell. Besides, he missed his boyfriend.
“As okay one can be with a sprained ankle and two train rides away from home,” he says. He tries to deliver this with an air of nonchalance. He doesn’t want to raise *all* the alarms.
“You whAT-” He winces, then counts to three. Yamaguchi immediately goes on a tirade: drilling into him about why he hadn’t called sooner, if he had called Aki-san yet, and on and on. And Tsukishima let him. He smiles despite the pain. It’s quite a nice distraction to answer the multitudes of questions his lover shoots at him. Things were going to be okay.
“Do you want me to come over?” Although he was expecting this question, the way Yamaguchi phrases it has him hesitating. Tsukishima would have thought that he would just invite himself over. Even after all these years, his best friend still manages to surprise him.
He swishes around the answer in his mouth, trying to mold it into something that is a lie. He misses Yamaguchi like plants miss the rain but he also knows he has other responsibilities. Apart from working part-time at a cafe, his boyfriend was also working hard in medical school and he knows that his midterms are nearing too fast to be comfortable for Tsukishima to give him an affirmative.
In the end, his mouth ends up betraying him. Tsukishima’s lips lose their feeling as he utters his lover’s name. He knows the tremble that lingers on the last syllable gives him away.
“Come home.”
He’s surprised by how desperate he sounds. Yamaguchi laughs, but it’s not at his expense. It’s a laugh of relief maybe, of happiness that he reached a hand out to help, and that Tsukishima took it.
“Of course! I was already on my way but I just wanted to ask.” His cheeky reply turns into another fit of laughter. To Tsukishima it sounds like a thousand tiny bells ringing just for him.
They plan to meet at Tsukishima’s apartment, each from their respective locations. He’s exhausted by this point but he knows it’ll be worth it to come home to his boyfriend.
Yamaguchi bids him farewell. Tsukishima replies with a mumbled, “M’kay. Love you.”
The world freezes, betrayed once again by his big mouth. He can’t be too mad at himself now that it’s out in the open. In fact, he wants to say it again, and again, until he says it so many times that someone has to invent a new phrase that is able to withstand the enormity of his love for the man on the phone. He’ll have ruined “I love you” and if it was inadequate now, then it’d be even less so then. His only regret is not saying it in person, where he could hold him close inside their pocket of eternity.
“I am going to kick you in the shin when I see you. I love you too, asshole.” The line drops and Tsukishima has to steady himself with all the giddiness building up inside. If the word “love” was subpar in holding all of the endearment he held for Tadashi, he fears that his body doesn’t stand a chance.
He once again thinks back to all the times he was alone, and how Tadashi had always been there for him. All the times other people had told him that he was okay alone and he had believed them. He’s glad those days are gone now.
What a blessing to be known so well.