Chapter Text
They run into each other, unexpectedly, as the sky is turning shades of pink and red and orange, as the air becomes colder around them.
“Wakatoshi!” Tendou cheers, and drops his grocery bags to the floor. He wraps Ushijima up in a bear hug, and the latter doesn’t fight it. When they pull apart, Tendou’s nose wrinkles up. “You’re all sweaty,”
Ushijima picks his sweat-soaked shirt from his body. It dries quickly, when he’s standing in place like this, and it makes him shiver. “Well, I was running,”
Tendou laughs, and it makes a smile prickle at the corners of Ushijima’s mouth.
“It’s been…” says Tendou, and his mouth forms the shape of a question. He picks his bags up slowly. The action gives him time to think, to sort out his words.“I don’t even know, but it’s been years,”
“It has,”
Tendou throws his arms up, and in doing so, throws his groceries back to the pavement. They fall without mercy, and surely now he will have to deal with bruised fruit and dented cartons for days to come. But that seems to be the very last thing on Tendou’s mind. He gazes over Ushijima more, with that same attitude from their high school volleyball days. It keeps Ushijima on his toes, keeps him guessing.
“What’ve you been up to, Wakatoshi?” Tendou asks. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, and when a group of middle school girls squeeze on by, he jolts in place. He moves aside to clear the sidewalk. But even at this time of day, just before night takes over, the streets are still lively. As the seconds tick on by, both of them are beginning to feel a bit in the way, with their tall, tall bodies, and grown stature. They take up so much space.
Ushijima finds a bench for them to sit on, and Tendou arranges his groceries beside him. They pop a squat and play the part of people watchers.
“Well?” Tendou repeats himself. He lets silence settle between them. And it might have hardened up and stayed there forever, if Ushijima hadn’t spoken up.
“A couple years ago, I was travelling through Africa,”
Tendou’s eyes boggle. “Seriously?”
Ushijima nods. His head casts a shadow on the pavement. “By motorbike. I was crossing the Sahara when it broke down. I was stranded for a week,”
Tendou very nearly tears his red hair out. His body twists, as if possessed by demons. He leaps to his feet and performs a strange dance, once that makes Ushijima raise an eyebrow. “WAKATOSHI! WHAT THE FUCK??” Ushijima makes a noise from his throat, but Tendou cuts him off anyways. “YOU GOT STRANDED...IN THE SAHARA??”
“Yes,” says Ushijima, and leans back on the bench.
Meanwhile, Tendou’s shaking his head, his arms crossed over his chest. “Unbelievable,” he says, and suddenly points an accusing finger at Ushijima. “You’re impossible, Wakatoshi,”
“Really,” Ushijima murmurs.
“But,” says Tendou, and his eyes have taken on a new character. They’re hungry for more. “What happened?”
“What happened?”
“When you were stranded!”
Ushijima’s gaze seems to be focused on a distant point. It’s like he’s lost in his thoughts. And Tendou starts to think that he’s gone for good - but then he talks, in that same voice as always. It presents the facts; nothing more, nothing less.
“When I was stranded...it was hard. I tried to repair the bike, but I didn’t know how. I went to sleep that first night, and the next morning, a boy woke me up. He asked me…”
Ushijima reflects on this.
“He told me...to draw a volleyball,”