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Distance, they said, makes the heart grow fonder. Tsukishima didn’t quite know who they were who had said that, and whoever they were also failed to mention that distance also makes the heart grow jealous, paranoid, angry, lonely, and a string of other words that were not even close to being synonyms of fonder. They also left out that distance is what causes a relationship to end over the phone, rather than in person.
Whoever they were, Tsukishima was not fond of them.
It was that distance that led to Tsukishima lying on his back on his bed, his lower half hanging off and feet resting flat against the floor. His phone was lying next to his ear, speaker phone on just loudly enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to wake up his brother in the next room. Kuroo, as he had been for the last few days, was trying to stop himself from crying on the other end of the line.
“Please calm down,” Tsukishima muttered, his own chest tight from fighting to keep himself from crying too. “You’re going to give yourself a migraine again.”
“Too late,” came Kuroo’s weak voice through the phone. “I’ll take something for it later.”
“Take something now.”
“Don’t want to get up. I’ll take it later.”
They both fell silent. Tsukishima just stared at his ceiling like he’d been doing every sleepless night this week. His eyes hurt, both raw and red from crying and strained from just how tired he was. He’d never thought he’d be the kind of person to cry over something as seemingly trivial as a breakup. A year ago he would have laughed at the idea.
And maybe he still would have laughed, if it had been someone else, even while he and Kuroo were dating. Would have laughed at someone crying over something like a relationship, would have probably told Kuroo how pathetic that person was.
“Do you think I'm pathetic for crying over this?” he asked despite the fact that Kuroo himself was still crying on the other end of the line. “I feel like, since we’re not on bad terms, I shouldn't cry.”
“Shut up,” came Kuroo's voice. “Of course I don't.”
“Because it’s not like we don’t talk anymore,” Tsukishima continued, no longer really talking to Kuroo as much as just talking to talk. “And it’s not like we can't see each other if we wanted to. So it seems like I shouldn't be crying.”
“Do you think I'm pathetic then?”
Tsukishima considered it. If he thought he himself was pathetic for crying then that would make Kuroo pathetic too. But Kuroo wasn't pathetic. He was just sad.
“No.”
“Then quit saying you are.”
“Sorry.”
Silence again. They'd run out of things to say. There were only so many times they could reassure each other that things would eventually be okay before it became monotonous and empty. He was pretty sure he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that there was truth in that. Things would be okay. Eventually they'd stop crying over this. Eventually they wouldn't talk everyday anymore. Eventually they'd be just friends again.
He'd never really been just friends with Kuroo before. He wondered if he'd really be able to now.
“I could transfer,” Kuroo suggested for what felt like the millionth time that week. “There are universities closer to you. I could get an apartment up there. You could move in.”
“Stop it,” Tsukishima breathed, hating the feeling of his chest clenching around his heart at Kuroo's words. “You worked so hard to get into your school. You're not transferring.”
“I don't give a damn about this school. I want to just make things easy for us . It's a school, who gives a shit?”
“You do. You wouldn't have worked so hard if you didn't.”
He heard Kuroo let out something close to a yell, but it was too weak and too broken to quite be one. He heard static and dull thud. Kuroo must have thrown his phone again. He waited, knowing it'd take a few minutes for him to finally come back.
“Sorry,” came Kuroo's voice eventually.
“It's okay.”
“I think I should go. I'm tired.”
“Okay.”
“Can I text you tomorrow? Is that.. I mean it's okay if we still talk, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Kei. I love you.”
“Goodnight Tetsu.”
Tsukishima reached up and clicked the end call button in his phone, but otherwise didn't move to get himself properly into bed.
Goodnight, Kei. I love you.
“I love you too.”