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You grew up with Yamaguchi, best friends since childhood, and did everything together.
So when he starts showing up in bruises, you couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on.
Until one night, when you accidentally get caught in the middle of a crossfire of a battle, the spider-like superhero comes in to save you, not realizing it turns into a moment of connection that hints at unspoken feelings and the secrets he keeps hidden.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
You didn’t realize when it started.
When you started observing him more than usual, his wrist would bloom with bruises across his wrist, half hidden under the sleeve of his hoodie.
Or, maybe before that, whenever he would space out mid-conversation, eyes flickering more towards the window as if he was waiting for something to happen.
Yet, he would smile the same way, soft and uneven. Still laughed quietly but lit up every room he was in. Still, you could tell something had shifted.
Something heavy and secret.
You knew Yamaguchi for a long time. You became friends when you were kids, became friends with Tsukishima together, quite literally almost did everything together. The teachers sometimes would question if one was seen without the other.
But you also knew him long enough to read the tension in his shoulder, the way his fingers curled when he thought no one was watching. You tried telling yourself it was volleyball, the stress taking a toll on your childhood friend or the aggressive practice causing a bad fall or another scrape across his face.
Yet, why does it feel like it’s more than that?
He always brushed it off, saying it was volleyball or he tripped on his way to school. All you could do was just frown in disappointment. You knew he was keeping something from you.
“Practice was rough, (N/N),” he’d say smiling while ruffling your hair like nothing's wrong. “Just lost my balance.”
But losing your balance doesn’t leave bruises shaped like burns across your arm, does it?
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
One evening, the city hummed beneath a pale sky, and you stayed late at the cafe across from the gym. You liked the view, the way the streetlights would always paint everything gold from far away.
You were stirring your drink when you saw him, not Tadashi, but him. A figure sprinting on top of the building, his suit in red and blue.
It was the superhero everyone talked about. Known to be clumsy but one of the saviors your town could rely on.
He landed on a lamppost, unsteady, gripping his arm, pain, maybe. The city stretched below him in a blur of headlights and rain, but he barely looked down. They moved again, running across rooftops, slinging webs like it was nothing, like gravity didn’t matter.
But even from that distance, you saw it, the way he faltered mid-step, the sharp exhale when he stopped. The movement wasn’t perfect; it was careful. Human-like.
Your brows furrowed, curiosity tugging at the edges of your confusion.
Who was he, really? And why did it hurt, watching someone you didn’t know look so tired?
And just as he came, in a blink of an eye he was gone.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
Tadashi came late to school again, or for the tenth time as you remember it. His arm was bandaged, and there was a cut above his eyebrow, still bleeding faintly through the gauze. If anyone had super hearing, they might have heard the sound of your heart cracking at the sight.
He looked exhausted, shoulders drawn in, hair a little messier than usual, but when his eyes met yours, he smiled. The same soft, uneven smile he always gave you, like nothing was wrong.
Like he wasn’t falling apart underneath it.
You wanted to ask what happened. You wanted to believe it was volleyball again, or maybe just bad luck. But the image from last night, the boy in red and blue clutching the same arm as your childhood crush on that lamppost, it just wouldn’t leave your head.
He saw you staring at his injuries, in which he murmured as a way to ease your worries. “Just tripped on the way home..” he said, scratching his neck in nervousness.
“Off what, a tower?” you joked half-heartedly, grinning before you went back to writing notes.
But in the corner of your eyes, you could see his smile falter, as if your words actually meant truth.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
You waited for him after practice to walk home together. It was something you both always did. You loved hearing him talk about the tiny ordinary things. His voice steadied you, even when he looked exhausted, or when his hands shook slightly as he shoved them into his pockets.
But today just felt off. Not only for you but him as well. He kept staring at the skyline like it was calling to him.
You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You only kept walking beside him, your steps quiet against the cracked pavement. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows, and the soft hum of the city filled the silence between your words.
He glanced at you briefly, then back at the horizon. You thought you saw a flicker of something, worry, maybe or hesitation. He wanted to say something, but it was like some sort of web was wrapped around his throat.
His fingers twitched at his side, brushing the edge of his sleeve against the faint bruises along his wrist, and you couldn’t stop the way your stomach tightened.
What the hell is happening to you Tadashi?
🕷️‧₊˚
After you and him split ways, you headed on your own route back home. Usually Tadashi would’ve walked you all the way home, but today was an exception. Well, the fifth exception.
“Hey I gotta go back to my house right now, sorry my mom…needs something”
The hesitance in his words made you worry but also a little annoyed. Your green-hair friend never lied to you, so why did it feel like he was?
The night had a chill that seemed to press closer with every step, and somewhere above you, a shadow moved. You froze, your breath catching as the streak of machinery swung across the rooftops again, landing with a soft thud a few meters away.
Your heart jumped. You were almost in the crossfire of a fight between masked figures, the one in red and blue moving with fluid precision, the shadows of his opponents scrambling beneath him. You pressed yourself against the wall, holding your breath as debris clinked and shattered around you.
And then… he paused. You looked up, shaking from what you couldn’t tell if it was because of the cold or your fear.
His head tilted in your direction, eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment.
You saw his eyes from the slits of the damaged mask. The same greenish-brownish eyes you grew up to love. That flicker of recognition and concern, made something twist painfully in your chest.
Your heart faltered. It couldn’t be.
But before you could think again, he was gone, swinging past the rooftops in a blue of movement and color. The echo of his webs lingered in the night air, and your hands shook despite yourself.
You leaned against the wall, it being your support for now. You pressed your palms against the cool brick, your heart hammering, mind racing.
Oh god.
You didn’t realize it then, but something had changed. You weren’t just watching from the sidelines anymore. You were connected, somehow, to the superhero who carried the world on his back with secrets, who risked himself in the shadows, who you had loved quietly for years without even knowing how close to the truth you already were.
🕷️‧₊˚
The next day, Yamaguchi didn’t speak. Responding in small words, you couldn’t help but worry and be annoyed at the same time.
He came to school, still late, sleeves covering the faint purple marks along his wrist. His forehead was freshly bandaged, and you could tell he had been clutching his arm in the way only he could.
All you wanted to do was just rip the bandage off and ask what the hell was going on, but the words caught in your throat.
“Practice was… intense yesterday,” he said softly, and for a moment, you wondered if he was testing you, seeing how much you eyed his bandages in an unreadable look.
You wanted answers. The truth that he hid from you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.
“Tadashi…” you began, but he shook his head slightly, as if he knew what you were going to ask.
“I’m fine, I swear,” he said, his voice quiet as if he rehearsed it.
You didn’t believe it. You never did.
How could you believe it when your best friend shows up in bruises every day, fresher than the last?
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
After school, Tadashi left without walking you home. Something about having to be home early because of something. You didn’t catch the rest of it.
You hesitated at first, debating if you should’ve confronted him just then, but decided against it and then decided to take your usual route anyway, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in your chest.
The streets were calm at first, the sky turning soft shades of orange and pink with the setting sun. But the quiet didn’t last.
As you passed a narrow alley, a sudden commotion froze you in place. A group of men, masked and moving quickly, appeared, their focus split between something further down the street towards… you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You realized too late that you had stepped directly into the crossfire.
A blur of red and blue shot across the rooftops above, moving faster than your eyes could track. Webs snapped and stretched between lampposts, buildings, and fire escapes as the figure leapt and swung with an ease that made your head spin.
Instinctively, you crouched, pressing yourself against the wall and covering your body with whatever you could. Your heart pounded as he landed between you and the danger, crouched low with careful precision.
Then his gaze met yours, just for a second, and your world tilted. Recognition, concern, and a flash of something unspoken passed through those bright eyes.
Before you could think, he moved. Swift, controlled, and effortless. A web shot out, snagging a nearby fire escape, and in a heartbeat, he swung down, scooping you into his arms.
You couldn’t even process what was going on, but as it was instinct, you found his shoulders and grabbed him tight.
“I’m taking you somewhere safe, hold on!” He shouted and your stomach lurched as the ground fell away.
Your hands shifted between holding his shoulders and his neck, your legs brushing against him for balance as you were lifted into the air. The city blurred beneath you, lights streaking past in golden lines, rain beginning to drizzle softly. You shut your eyes, heart racing with fear and awe, as you clutched him tighter, the adrenaline hammering through your veins.
Seconds later, he landed on a tower, keeping you steady, arms firm around your waist and back. You were breathing too fast to speak, chest pressed against him, rain dripping into your hair. He looked down at you, eyes soft behind the mask.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low, careful, full of concern.
You nodded, your heart still hammering against your chest to the point you could hear each beat loudly in your ears.
What just happened.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
The wind whipped around you on the tower, the city lights below blurred in streaks of gold and silver. Rain slicked your hair to your face, and your chest still ached from the adrenaline of the near-miss moments ago.
“You really shouldn’t be out here alone,” the masked boy said, holding you firmly. You could feel the strength in his arms, the warmth despite the chill, but anger bubbled up before worry could fully settle.
“I could say the same about you!” you snapped, your voice cracking slightly. “Who even are you? You just swing in, risk your life, and disappear like nothing happened?!”
For a second, the only sound was the rain and the hum of the city below. Then, from behind the mask, you caught the tilt of his head, as if his eyes were crinkled with amusement.
“You think I don’t know how reckless that sounded?” he said, voice light, teasing, almost musical. “But I couldn’t let anything happen, especially to you.”
Your heart twisted. Mad, yes, but… relieved, terrified, and a little breathless from the rush. The rain soaked through your clothes, but you barely noticed; all your focus was on him, the way he had caught you, the way he was holding you safe.
But what did he mean ‘especially to me…’
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” You questioned, your heart starting to speed up again.
He tilted his head slightly, a playful tilt that made your chest ache in confusion. “I mean… I’ve been watching out for you,” he said softly, the rain dripping off the edges of his mask. “Maybe, more than you probably realize.”
That’s when it started to click. His voice, his touch, his clumsy stance, his familiar golden-green-brown eyes you saw before.
It can't be.
Your breath caught in your throat, chest tightening as your mind raced. The way he had caught you, the way he held you, the soft warmth in his voice beneath the mask, it all clicked, threading together in impossible clarity.
“Tadashi?” you whispered out.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
A soft laugh slipped from him, low and almost shy, carrying the warmth you had always known. “Surprised?” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper behind it, something gentle and sincere.
You noticed the subtle shift in his posture too; the tension in his shoulders, the tightness that had held him upright and guarded, seemed to melt away just slightly, as if letting you see a glimpse of the boy beneath the mask.
You felt a mix of frustration and worry knotting in your stomach. “You… you could’ve gotten hurt! All this time… you were out there, swinging above the city, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I couldn’t,” he said, voice soft, brushing a gloved hand along yours as if to reassure you. “Not when it meant you might worry. Not when it could put you in danger too. I had to make sure you were safe first.”
Your hands trembled slightly, pressed against his chest. The rain soaked you both, cold on your skin, but the warmth radiating from him through every touch and heartbeat made it feel impossible to notice.
He leaned just a little closer, giving you space to step back, but the pull of his presence was magnetic. The world around you, the wind whipping across the bridge, the distant hum of the city, the soft patter of rain, it all faded into nothing.
There was only him, only this suspended moment, only the truth finally revealed.
“You… you’re Spider-Man,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide in shock.
“Yes,” he said simply, tilting his head with that playful, familiar tilt that made your chest ache.
“But right now… I’m just me. Just the one who caught you.”
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
You opened your mouth, wanting to say more, to scold him, to ask him why, to tell him how worried you had been, but your words caught. All you could do was keep your head down, heart hammering, breath pacing in contrast to his as the city lights flickered around you.
As if he could sense your heart racing, he peeled off his gloves and took your hands gently in his, warm and steady, the same familiar touch that had always made your chest flutter. Every little brush of his fingers sent sparks through your veins, and for a moment, the chaos of the city, the rain, even the danger, faded into nothing.
You looked up, and your breath caught. The realization hit you, just how close you were to him, so close that the faint warmth of his breath mingled with yours. His eyes, now shifting into a color of hazel brown and green, had a softness that had always drawn you in, held yours, filled with concern and something else you couldn’t yet name.
He smiled then, genuine and full, but behind it lingered the shadow of fear, the fear that maybe, just maybe, something could happen to you in his absence, that all the moments he had kept hidden were because he’d been trying to keep you safe.
And in that suspended moment, rain dripping from your hair and clothes, the bridge stretching endlessly beneath you, you felt it, the truth, the tension, the quiet understanding that nothing would ever be quite the same again.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
The rain tapped softly against your shoulders, sliding down your hair and mixing with the adrenaline that still thrummed through your veins. Your hands were still in his, and each small squeeze of his fingers sent a current up your arms, grounding you while making your heart race all at once.
“You… you’ve been risking your life,” you murmured, voice trembling. “All this time… and…gosh I’ve been so selfish, haven’t I? Asking you about your bruises or not noticing when you’re tired… I should’ve-”
He shook his head gently, cutting you off, his hands still holding yours. “No,” he said softly, voice steady despite the cold shock of the rain. “Don’t think that way. You’ve been nothing but worried about me, and that… that’s what matters to me. You caring doesn’t make you selfish.”
Your chest tightened, guilt and relief colliding, but not going away entirely. “But you… you’ve been out there, keeping me safe, keeping the world safe! Hiding all of this… alone.”
“I wasn’t alone,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, eyes soft and golden-green. “I had you in mind. Always. That’s why I couldn’t risk letting anything happen to you.”
“I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”
Your heart swelled, a rush of warmth and ache colliding at once. The weight of his words sunk deep into your chest.
You wanted to be angry at him for hiding something so dangerous, for making you worry endlessly, but how could you, when his voice trembled like that? When every word sounded like it came from somewhere between love and fear?
How could I be angry when you put your life on the line everyday…
“Tadashi…” you whispered, your throat tightening around his name. “You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. You don’t have to protect me from everything. I just- I just want you safe too.”
He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth curling in that same shy way you’d seen a thousand times before, but now it hit differently. His mask still hung loose in one hand, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead, and his eyes glowed softer than the city lights behind him.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But when it’s you…” His voice caught, like the confession weighed more than the air between you. “When it’s you, I can’t stop myself.”
The world felt painfully still, the hum of cars below, the rhythm of the rain, the soft flutter of his breath. You stared at him, the same boy you’d grown up with, the same boy who laughed too softly, smiled too kindly, who now stood before you as something more, something, no, someone brave, fragile, and heartbreakingly human.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” you whispered, your hands tightening around his. “Every time you showed up hurt, I thought, I thought I was losing you. Thought-thought that something was happening and I wouldn’t be able to help you before it was too late.”
He let out a shaky laugh, small and tired, but still warm. “I think that’s the part that kept me going,” he admitted. “Knowing someone would notice if I didn’t come back.”
Your eyes stung. “That’s not funny.”
“I know,” he murmured. “It’s not supposed to be.”
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The rain kept falling, tracing silver lines down your faces. His thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, and you could feel every ounce of his hesitation, the battle between wanting to keep you close and needing to keep you safe.
“I’ll always protect you. Always.” he murmured, his eyes looking deep into yours.
“Always and forever.”
Then, as if sensing the storm of emotions inside you, he leaned a fraction closer, brushing his forehead against yours. His lips followed, soft at first, testing, then firmer, carrying the weight of all the worry, care, and quiet longing neither of you had admitted out loud.
Then, almost in a whisper, he said, “Can I…?”
You blinked, hesitant for a second. “Can you what?”
His lips curved, eyes glinting just slightly. “Try something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Before you could answer, he shifted closer, one hand still holding yours while the other reached up to cup your cheek. His touch was tentative, reverent, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he pressed too hard.
Your breath hitched. “Tadash-”
But he didn’t let you finish.
The kiss was soft, hesitant at first, the kind that stole your words and left you weightless. Your hands moved instinctively, resting against his chest, holding him as tightly as you dared, and the rest of the world, rain, wind, fear, vanished, leaving only him, only you, and the undeniable truth between you.
It wasn’t perfect; it was trembling, rain-soaked, desperate in all the quietest ways. And in that moment, you felt everything, the nights you’d spent worrying, the lies he’d told to protect you, the truth that now bound you both together.
When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, breaths mingling, eyes half-lidded and shining.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rough. “For all of it.”
You shook your head, fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Just… don’t disappear again, okay?”
A small laugh escaped him, soft, real, and a little broken. “You know I’ll always come back to you.”
And for once, your heart felt at ease.
🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅