Chapter Text
It was Tendou’s own fault, really. In their dorm room, when Ushijima suddenly announced that he was going into town to pick something up and refused to elaborate further, curiosity got the better of him. Tendou had bothered and prodded and begged Ushijima to let him tag along until finally, in his own lapse of barely noticeable insanity, Ushijima had slowly blinked at Tendou from a place of begrudging acceptance more so than outright refusal.
Now, a short tram ride and walk later, having averted all of Tendou’s questions about where they were going and why, Ushijima had led them into a small, old bookshop with more mothballs than customers, and series upon series of classic novels, finally explaining that he was picking up books for their room. At first, Tendou was elated with satisfaction, skipping around the shelves and piles of books organised haphazardly in the little, old place. But as time stretched on, he grew weary of flipping through the picture-less books (making face after face at the tiny text), grew tired of watching the few customers stretching into bizarre places to fetch books that caught their eye. Boredom was imprinting itself into his very bones and he wanted to do something, anything else.
Ushijima remained at the wooden desk near the front of the shop that Tendou supposed was to be where patrons bought their beloved books. However, the key element (and source of his ongoing misery) was missing – the shopkeeper was nowhere to be found. 10 times. 10 times had the bell to the shop rang out its little jingle, and twice was enough for Tendou to memorise it and immediately echo its song back to it, to the irk of other customers. After its 5th jingle, Tendou improvised a small dance to accompany his hum.
Only Tendou could tell that Ushijima was amused by it.
Ushijima was tapping his fingers on the desk now, light raps against the wood. Tendou stood by him, leaning against him purposefully in hopes of annoying him. As if he guessed his intent or was simply unbothered by this tactic, Ushijima didn’t budge an inch nor glance at Tendou as he did this. Instead, he kept tapping the desk, staring forwards at the ‘Be right back!’ sign hanging above them in big, block letters.
“I think I’m going to die,” Tendou groans, falling to lean his elbows on the desk, watching a drinking bird dip its head repetitively into its water dish on the disk. His mouth twitches at the sight of the toy, and he immediately goes to poke it.
“That is an irrefutable truth,” Ushijima replies matter-of-factly, pulling Tendou’s hand back from the toy (unknowingly drawing Tendou’s eyes to the touch), “We’re all going to die.”
A customer near them jerks their head in their direction, eyebrows furrowed.
Tendou bites back a laugh, raising a hand to the customer in apology, “One day, please, add one day to the end of that.”
Ushijima frowns down at him slightly, “Does that not go without saying?”
Tendou shakes his head with a smile, replying in a sing-song voice, “Not when it’s not just the two of us.”
Ushijima nods. Tendou wonders briefly whether he truly understood what he was saying, searching his face for something akin to a flash of understanding or contemplation. As usual, he comes up empty. For all his guesses and predictions, Ushijima Wakatoshi was the one person he could never quite figure out.
Tendou swept his finger along the layer of dust coating the desk. Maybe not figuring him out was for the best, he supposed as he blew the dust off his finger and watched it dance in the air before them. It was the thing that drew him to Ushijima, the mystery of the wonder boy who could deliver a powerful spike and yet couldn’t figure out his social skills (or complete lack of them). But, for the most part, it was those little moments, when Ushijima listened to what Tendou said earnestly and without derision like other people usually did, or touched some part of him without thinking about it, or, God, when Tendou actually managed to make him laugh by some rare feat, that made his heart pound. It was also in those moments that Tendou pushed his feelings deep, deep down and forced himself to look away. Only until Ushijima did or said something else; then, all of the ugly lovesickness came back in full force.
Something meowed from underneath the desk.
Tendou stood up tall. At the same time, Ushijima leant forwards slightly, pausing in his tapping of the desk. A small, black cat jumped up, disturbing the drinking bird with a large stretch of its back.
“Big stretch,” Ushijima mumbles softly, raising his hand to the cat. Tendou’s eyes widen, clasping his hand onto Ushijima’s forearm.
“What are you doing?” He hisses to Ushijima quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the cat who was finished stretching and now sniffing at Ushijima’s still-outstretched hand.
“I am… petting the cat?” Ushijima says, tilting his head in question to Tendou’s hand on him.
Tendou shook his head, tightening his grip, “No, no, aren’t black cats like evil omens or something? What if it curses you or something when you touch it?”
If he had money on him, he would’ve bet that Ushijima had smiled at that, a ghost of a smile that flitted across his lips but vanished as soon as it came. Tendou balked as the cat pushed her head into Ushijima’s hand, his fingers in response softly petting between her ears.
“That is a superstition, and a terrible one. Black cats are no different to any other cats,” Ushijima states, now scratching the cat’s spine, “I didn’t know you were superstitious.”
Tendou shifted slightly, pulling his hand off of Ushijima and crossing his arms in a huff, “Am not. Just… looking out for you, ‘s all.”
Ushijima pauses slightly in his petting and glances at him. The cat, seemingly offended at the loss of attention, turns her back on them and jumps onto the shelves behind the desk. They both watch as she flits in between objects placed on them, trotting from one shelf to another until she settles into a new spot high above them, bright green eyes watching them unwaveringly.
“So, what,” Tendou narrows his eyes and points at the cat, slightly unnerved by her stare, “You’re telling me that’s normal?”
Ushijima nods.
Tendou grumbles and looks away from the cat, poking at the drinking bird, “Next you’re gonna tell me she’s the shopkeeper.”
“I am starting to think you know very little about cats,” Ushijima replies, resuming his finger taps on the desk.
“Cats, schmats,” Tendou waves a hand dismissively, “Dogs are better.”
Ushijima tilts his head at him, “Why do you think that?”
“Eh, they tell you what they want. I don’t know what to do with a cat,” Tendou looks up at the cat still staring down at them, “She’s looking at us. Surely that’s not normal.”
Silence.
Tendou turns his head to Ushijima, who was staring down at the drinking bird, deep in thought.
“Hey, Earth to sunshine, halloo? Demon-cat got your tongue?” He waves his fingers in front of Ushijima’s face, drawing a tiny jolt out of him that he wasn’t expecting. Worry toils inside of him.
Tendou softens and lays a hand on his arm, “Hey, you okay?”
Ushijima nods, blank-faced as ever, opening his mouth to say something when a loud clutter makes them both jump and they snap their heads back to the desk.
There’s a big, brown box before them, and the tiny, old shopkeeper is stood just behind it.
“Here you go, young man,” The old woman says in a scratchy voice, patting the box on the side, “One stack reserved under the name ‘Ushijima’. This was quite the find, you know, quite hard nowadays to get this stack. I remember my Kaori loved this, you know, when she was 7- “
Ushijima places a hand on the box, his mouth set in a hard, thin line, “Thank you, ma’am.”
Tendou raises an eyebrow at this odd, well, more-odd-than-usual behaviour. The old woman doesn’t register this as abnormal, instead smiling happily and patting the box eagerly.
“Well, we’re not getting any younger,” She says, turning to the shelves behind her, “Where did I put my… oh, is my baby awake now?”
The old woman’s searching is stopped by the cat stepping gingerly down the shelves and into her arms. The cat pushes her face into the old woman’s and a small reverberation can be heard as the old woman pets and coos at her.
“That is purring,” Ushijima states to Tendou, his hand still on the box.
Tendou scoffs offendedly and jabs at Ushijima’s arm, “I know what purring is, thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome,” Ushijima replies automatically.
Tendou rolls his eyes in a huff, but still bites back a smile. The old woman puts the cat down on the desk before turning back to the shelves behind her, resuming her search. The cat glances at Tendou. He frowns at her. She winks one of her eyes at him slowly.
Tendou’s mouth drops open and he grabs at Ushijima’s arm, hissing, “She just winked at me! I am telling you, demon-cat-”
Ushijima shakes his head and looks at the cat now licking at her paw, “Cats are not demons and she is not winking. She is licking her paw.”
“She winked!”
“Now she is cleaning her face.”
“Wakatoshi.”
“Here we are!” The old woman turns back around with tape in her hand, smiling widely.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but your cat just winked at me,” Tendou juts a finger at the cat now looking up at her owner.
The old woman blinks. Then, she laughs and puts a hand to her mouth to stifle it. Feeling a burn creep up his neck, Tendou crosses his arms again and burrows slightly against a frowning Ushijima.
“Forgive me,” she hiccups a final giggle, waving her laughter away, “Sorry, yes, Baby likes to wink. My granddaughter says it means she likes you. It’s cat-language!”
Tendou and Ushijima glance at each other in confusion.
“Wait, sorry,” Tendou raises a hand to the cheery, old woman, “Your cat is called ‘Baby’? And she likes to wink?”
She nods vigorously before looking askance to herself, “Well, Baby’s my granddaughter’s cat. But yes! Baby must like you, young man.”
Ushijima tilts his head in thought as Tendou’s head flickers between the two of them, exasperated.
“Uh huh, that makes it… okay then...?”
Tendou looks at the cat, now watching Ushijima with her wide-eyed stare, and back up at the old woman who has busied herself with relocating the tape she put down, humming absent-mindedly.
The old woman shabbily tapes the box up, disregarding the aesthetics of taping a box up well, and looks to Ushijima, “Right, that’s that. Cash or card?”
As Ushijima follows the old woman to the other end of the desk to pay, the bell above the bookshop door jingles and Tendou’s attention is called to it instead of frowning at the hasty box tape, watching another customer enter as he hums the bell’s ditty. He fiddles with his fingers as the customer heads to the back of the shop, and turns his head back to the demon-cat on the desk.
She’s gone.
His eyebrows furrow as he glances up at the shelves and behind the desk to see no evidence of the cat having been there. The drinking bird pops back up, teasing him.
“Please, come again! Any time,” the old woman smiles up at Ushijima as they walk back to Tendou. She pats his arm before clutching Tendou’s hands with a smile.
“You too, you must come visit us again,” the old woman winks up at him.
Tendou nods and gives her as charming a smile as he can muster under her icy grip as Ushijima picks up the box, distributing its weight evenly across his arms. Appeased, the old woman releases Tendou and watches the pair leave, the smile never leaving her face as she hears her bell jingle once more.
“What nice, young men,” She beams before turning to flip the sign behind her.