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Doubt could encompass Yamaguchi as quickly as the wind could change. It was his specialty, a novel character trait that he was known for, though the severity he liked to keep under a veil so thin you could tear it just by an offhand comment.
“We’re ordering your uniforms now, so after practice tell Shimizu your sizes!” Takeda said, as if that wouldn’t spin around in his head all of practice. The last thing he wanted to do was say the words out loud.
All Yamaguchi could think about during practice was how he fit into space. The way he floundered around, taking up space so awkwardly as he caught and received and spiked, something unrefined as compared to his peers. Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukki, they all commanded a certain presence while on the court, one that could stand equal to their upperclassman. Yamaguchi was a sub-in; he was not quite there yet.
Advice flew over his head unwillingly as he tried to grasp too loosely, his thoughts directed at something as useless as small, medium, and large. It was exhausting, the worry. It was something that ate at him even after he choked out the words and they were noted down. Something that followed him into the changing room where he could do nothing other than look down as he changed, and something that kept him hyper aware as he walked home with Tsukki.
Carefully manicured conversation was what followed him to the split at the road where the two left each other, Yamaguchi eager to go home to his shower and bed until he could black out the day completely, and yet he sat in his room glued to a singular text.
Tsukki: Remember to eat.
It was simple, and yet it evoked the worst part of himself to run wild and free within his mind. Anger, desperation, loathing, lamenting and something like a little spark of love washed over him. Three words, and he felt so sick (and happy, happy, happy!) and so sick of feeling and looking this way.
I will.
Thank you
With trembling fingers, he allowed himself a glass of water and half a sandwich on whole wheat bread. A quiet dinner snuck in the dark, not a trace left of his sins to be found in or about the kitchen. After chugging the water and washing the dish, he climbed back to his room.
Time passed as it usually did, with headphones on and homework to be done, until he tucked himself away in bed. That was the worst part, laying there in the quiet dark only to be met with flashes from the day that haunted him.
Yamaguchi woke the next morning feeling hollowed out. Someone had taken a melonballer and scooped out his innards. He wished someone had scooped out his heart instead, as the next thing that followed was a crushing wave of self hatred so lethal he wondered how he could cope. Today is a bad day.
Sluggishly, he combed his hair and brushed his teeth, barely tugging his uniform on before hurrying out the door to go meet Tsukki. If the other could tell it was a bad day, he didn't say, yet his eyes glimmered in a silent understanding that defined their years of friendship. Passing over a protein bar, the two walked in silence as Tsukki ate and Yamaguchi felt the weight of it in his pocket, entirely ignored.
"Yamaguchi, make sure to eat before practice if you aren't going to eat it now," Tsukki said, glancing at the boy as they trekked.
"I know, Tsukki. You don't have to remind me," Yamaguchi responded, clutching his fist around the bar in his pocket. It squished under the pressure, bending and moulding to the shape of his fingers and the grooves of palms.
"Sometimes you need it," he said softly before they arrived on campus and the topic was lost to the throngs of students. It floated away from Yamaguchi, though deep down it rang around in him somewhere, reaffirming the little voice that said he cares! He cares about you! Above that was a gatekeeper, one that screamed for him to ignore it because how could Tsukki like someone as big as him? Let alone a man.
Shoved down further, Yamaguchi ignored the voices as much as possible, even when he looked at the way Tsukki helped him with homework and how he celebrated his improvements in the sport they so loved. He ignored them so adamantly that the subtle changes in Tsukishima were lost on him. How the blond boy lingered, weaving himself further and further into Yamaguchi's life that it became expected to see the two of them together. A package deal, the silent duo overshadowed by Hinata and Kageyama.
On a night where Yamaguchi was especially lost within himself, Tsukki spent the night at his place. A small dinner together, simple and plain and paletable, yet Yamaguchi had locked himself in the bathroom afterwards fretting about in front of the mirror. He turned, abhorring his side profile as he felt the curve of his stomach protrude out.
"Yamaguchi?" Tsukki called, knocking tentatively at the door.
"Sorry, Tsukki," he responded, unlocking the door and smiling up at the blond. "Do you want to shower before bed?"
A silence hung between them as Tsukki evaluated him, eyeing him up and down. "Are you okay?" he whispered almost awkwardly, eyes turned away like he couldn't bear any answer that wasn't yes.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Yamaguchi laughed, filing away the voices once more. They crawled around inside of him, making his stomach turn until they clawed their way up his throat. He held his lips firmly shut, unwilling to broach anything that could disrupt the delicate peace that existed between them.
"You've been acting strange," Tsukki muttered, looking him back in the eye. "I just wanted to make sure. That you're alright."
Yamaguchi had to fight the urge to let the voice take hold of his lips and speak anything out loud. The only thing he could let out were affirmations of his false sense of rightness. Ushering Tsukki back into his room, it hung in the air between them as they worked on homework. Pencil strokes rang throughout the room like thunder, a displacement of the tightrope that Yamaguchi was dancing on.
"You know," Tsukki started, causing Yamaguchi to freeze. Please…
"It's okay, you know. It's okay if you aren't alright." Please don't say anymore…
Tsukki looked up from his worksheet, staring at the monstrous form in front of him. I'm oka—
"You know I'll still love you, right?"
The voices were ripped out of Yamaguchi so violently he began to cry. Looking up into Tsukki's face, it seemed unworthy to keep his mouth shut any longer. "I'm sorry."
Tsukki shook his head, smiling slightly in the soft way he reserved only for him. "Don't be sorry, Yamaguchi."
Facing each other, the blond reached over the table to wipe his face and dry his tears away. More came afterwards, the damn too broken to contain much. Shifting over, Yamaguchi found himself halfway in Tsukki's lap as they embraced on the floor, face tucked away safely in the crook of his neck. A hand ran through his hair as he let the sadness roll out of him in waves. "I'm sorry, Tsukki," Yamaguchi cried, clutching the boy tightly.
"It's okay," Tsukki whispered. "It'll be okay."
A wave of denial ran through him, doubt at his words, and yet, he found himself craving their truth. Nuzzling further into him, Yamaguchi tried to find safety in Tsukki.
Doubt could encompass him in the blink of an eye, but he had someone who loved him. Someone who cared, who stayed, who watched and listened.
Yamaguchi had to try to believe.
"Tsukki," Yamaguchi croaked, voice scraggly from crying. "I think I hate myself."
The hand running through his hair stuttered slightly before continuing on. "Why?"
"I'm—" he started, burying his face into Tsukki's shoulder. "I'm ugly, and I take up so much space, and yet there's nothing to show for it."
"I don't think you're ugly," Tsukki whispered above him, an arm snaking around Yamaguchi tighter. "I think you're beautiful, and that your mind thinks worse of yourself than it should."
"I think i'm overweight."
"I think you think that," Tsukki started, speaking slowly. "But it's not true, because I know you don't eat enough and I can practically see through you."
"Don't lie to me," Yamaguchi snapped, picking his head up from its safe spot.
"I'm not, baby," Tsukki smiled down at him, tugging him back to where he lay at his neck. He repositioned them so that his back was to the bedframe and Yamaguchi was curled in his lap fully. A hand remained at Yamaguchi's head while the other curled around him. "I promise, I'm not. I don't expect you to believe me, and I'm so proud of you for telling me, but I need you to listen to me for a second."
Yamaguchi murmured his assent, arms curling inward towards his chest. The sight made a small smile dance on Tsukki's lips as he continued: "I don't expect your self image to magically change, but how you see yourself and how others do is very different from one another. I see someone struggling, and I want to try to help you. Will you let me?"
The thought made Yamaguchi's heart sing and shatter all at once. His best friend, the boy he loved, wanted him. He also knew what "help" entailed. "I love you too, Tsukki," he started, fidgeting with the hem of Tsukki's shirt, "but, I don't know if you can help me."
"I didn't ask you that," Tsukki said, rocking them back and forth a bit. "I asked if you'll let me try."
"I—" he stuttered out. The feeling of Tsukki slowly running his fingers through his hair, the ability to hide away at his shoulder stumped him. If this is how it would be, then why run away from the most comfortable he'd been in years? "Yeah, okay."
Tsukki hummed, leaning his cheek on top of Yamaguchi's head. Month of his thoughts buzzing around in his head quieted down to nothing.
Hidden away in the safety of Tsukki, Yamaguchi felt no doubt nor anger or sadness in that moment, only a profound sense of correctness larger than life itself.