Work Text:
The thing about dating Kiyoko for a while is that somewhere along the line, her parents stopped looking at me like “that loud volleyball boy” and started looking at me like I was… sticking around.
Which is an honour. A terrifying one, but an honour.
So when her dad asked if I could help him out in the garden on Saturday, I said yes so fast I nearly bit my tongue.
It was one of those summer days where the sun doesn’t just shine — it presses down. The air was thick, cicadas buzzing like they were cheering the heat on. Sweat clung to my back before we’d even started.
Kiyoko’s dad stood beside me, sleeves rolled up neatly, movements precise as he adjusted something along the wooden fence bordering their vegetable patch. He didn’t waste words. When he explained what needed doing, it was calm and direct.
“Hold this steady.”
“Yes, sir— I mean— yeah. Got it.”
He gave me a brief look at the slip-up, not unkind, just assessing. I straightened immediately and planted my feet like I was bracing for Ushijima’s serve.
Across the garden, under the patio shade, Kiyoko and her mom were sorting through something on a small table — I think herbs, maybe flowers. Every now and then I’d hear her mom’s bright laugh float over, followed by Kiyoko’s softer voice replying. I tried not to stare. I failed several times.
I wanted to impress him. Not in the loud, chest-thumping way I usually approach life. I wanted him to see that I could be steady. Reliable. Someone who deserved his daughter.
So I ignored the heat.
Ignored the way sweat was dripping from my temples into my eyes.
Ignored the slight fuzziness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
We’d been working for a while, adjusting planks and reinforcing part of the trellis. I stood up from crouching, lifting a small wooden beam into place, and the world tilted — just slightly. Like I’d stepped off a curb wrong.
I blinked hard.
The sun seemed brighter all of a sudden.
“You alright?” her dad asked, not looking at me at first.
“Yeah,” I said immediately. Too quickly. “All good.”
He glanced at me then. His gaze sharpened.
“You look pale.”
I laughed, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. “Nah, I’m fine. Just hot, y’know? I can handle it.”
I could not, in fact, handle it.
My ears started ringing. A high, thin whine that cut through the cicadas. The garden felt… far away. Like I was standing at the bottom of a swimming pool, watching everything through water.
The nausea came next. Sudden. Heavy.
I shifted my weight and the ground didn’t feel solid.
Her dad stepped closer. “Take a seat for a bit.”
“I don’t need—”
My sentence trailed off because the sky dipped sideways.
A hand caught my arm. Firm. Steady.
“Easy,” he said, voice low but clear. Not panicked. Not irritated. Just there.
He guided me down before I even realised my knees were giving out. The grass came up to meet me faster than I expected.
“Yuki,” he called calmly toward the patio. “Bring a compress.”
Footsteps. Two sets. Quick.
My vision flickered. Kiyoko’s silhouette appeared above me, backlit by the sun, her hair haloed in gold.
“Ryu?” she said, and there was a softness in her voice that cut through the ringing.
I tried to answer.
The world blinked.
—
When I opened my eyes, everything was quieter.
The sun was still warm on my skin, but I wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. I was on my side, grass cool against my cheek. Something damp pressed gently against my temple.
It felt like I’d only blinked.
Kiyoko was kneeling beside me, one hand steady on my shoulder, the other holding the compress to my head. Her brows were drawn together in that subtle, worried way she gets — not dramatic, not loud, just deeply focused.
Her mom crouched nearby, fanning me lightly with what looked like a gardening magazine. Her expression was softer, concerned but not alarmed.
And her dad stood just behind them, arms folded, watching carefully.
I pushed myself up slightly.
“I didn’t pass out,” I muttered.
My voice sounded strange to my own ears.
Her dad’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “Your eyes rolled back, kid. You definitely did.”
Kiyoko’s mom let out a gentle laugh. “It was very dramatic.”
Kiyoko exhaled, a small sound that was half relief, half amusement. “You fainted.”
I could feel the heat rushing to my face, which was impressive considering I’d apparently just lost consciousness.
“I was just… resting,” I tried weakly.
Kiyoko adjusted the compress, her fingers brushing my hairline. The touch was so careful it made my chest tighten. “You were overdoing it.”
“I wasn’t,” I insisted. “I can handle some sun.”
“You were swaying,” her dad said simply.
That shut me up.
Kiyoko’s mom smiled kindly. “You wanted to impress him, didn’t you?”
I choked on air.
Kiyoko glanced at me then — and there it was. That look. Fond. Teasing. Knowing.
Maybe fainting in front of your girlfriend’s parents isn’t how you imagine earning respect.
They helped me sit up slowly. The world tilted for a second, but Kiyoko’s hand stayed firm against my back.
“Careful,” she murmured.
Her dad watched closely but didn’t hover. He trusted I wouldn’t crumble again immediately, but he was ready if I did. I appreciated that more than I could say.
“Let’s move him to the shade,” her mom suggested lightly. “Before he tries to build the entire garden single-handedly.”
Kiyoko nodded. “Come on. Under the tree.”
She slipped her arm around mine, steady but not overbearing. I let her guide me — partly because I still felt a little floaty, and partly because I liked the feeling of her leading me somewhere.
We settled under the large tree at the edge of the yard. The shade was cooler, the air less suffocating. She eased me down into the grass and sat beside me, knees tucked to one side.
Her parents drifted back toward the house after a moment, her dad giving me one last measured look that somehow felt approving despite everything.
“You rest,” he said. “Work can wait.”
I nodded, trying to absorb the fact that he hadn’t sounded disappointed.
Kiyoko shifted closer, brushing some grass off my shoulder. “You scared me.”
I swallowed. “Sorry.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Why didn’t you say you felt bad?”
“I didn’t want to look weak,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
Her lips curved into a small smile. “You fainted.”
“Okay, yeah, but before that.”
She laughed softly — not mocking, just warm. “You don’t have to prove yourself like that.”
I looked at her properly then.
Maybe it was the heatstroke. Maybe it was the near-death-by-vegetable-garden experience. But seeing her there, sunlight filtering through the leaves and catching in her hair, eyes steady on me with that quiet affection… it felt like the first time I’d ever noticed her again.
My chest ached in the best way.
“You’re really pretty,” I blurted.
She blinked. “You just regained consciousness.”
“I’m serious.”
A faint pink dusted her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “You’re very dramatic.”
“You’re the one holding a compress to my head like I’m some tragic hero.”
“You’re the one who tried to power through heatstroke to impress my father.”
When she said it like that, it sounded… ridiculous.
I huffed a laugh. “Did I at least look cool before I dropped?”
She pretended to consider it. “You looked stubborn.”
“I’ll take it.”
She adjusted the compress again, her fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Next time, tell me if you feel dizzy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” I smiled at her, softer now. “I just… want them to like me.”
Her gaze softened even further. “They do.”
My heart did something embarrassing in my chest.
“My dad wouldn’t have let you help if he didn’t,” she added. “And my mom already calls you ‘that loud but sweet boy’.”
“Sweet?” I repeated, scandalised.
She nodded solemnly. “Very sweet.”
I groaned, flopping back onto the grass and immediately regretting the sudden movement. The world spun slightly, and she steadied me again, laughing under her breath.
“See?” she said. “Overdramatic.”
“Hey, I nearly died.”
“You fainted for maybe ten seconds.”
“Ten seconds too long.”
She leaned closer, her expression shifting from teasing to something more tender. “You don’t have to impress us by hurting yourself.”
“I wasn’t hurting—”
She raised an eyebrow.
“…Okay, maybe a little.”
Her fingers traced lightly through my hair, absent-minded, comforting. I melted instantly, staring up at the canopy of leaves above us.
“I’m really in love with you,” I said quietly.
There was no big flourish. No shouting declaration. Just the truth, slipping out under the shade of her childhood tree.
She didn’t look surprised.
“I know,” she replied, just as soft.
“And I’m really in love with your family too,” I added quickly, because it felt important.
She smiled at that — a full one, eyes bright. “Good. They’re part of the package.”
I turned my head toward her, propping myself up on one elbow. “Even the stoic dad who witnessed my eyes roll back?”
“Especially him.”
We both laughed then, the sound easy and warm in the summer air.
After a moment, she lay back beside me, shoulder brushing mine. The grass was cool beneath us, the tree shielding us from the worst of the heat. From the patio, I could hear her mom humming something cheerful, and the faint clink of gardening tools as her dad resumed work at a slower pace.
Kiyoko glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Next time, you take breaks.”
“Yes.”
“You drink water.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t argue when my dad tells you to sit down.”
“…That one’s negotiable.”
She nudged my side lightly. “Ryu.”
I grinned. “Okay, okay. I’ll listen.”
She studied me for a second, making sure I meant it. Then her hand slid into mine, fingers threading together.
The embarrassment was still there, simmering under my skin, but it was softer now. Drowned out by the way she looked at me like I was something worth taking care of.
If fainting in her garden meant lying under this tree with her hand in mine, listening to her half-lecture, half-tease me while the world slowed down around us, then maybe it wasn’t the worst way to try and impress her dad after all.