Chapter Text
“Does that make sense?” Silence. One moment. Two moments. Too long. “Okay. Let’s try something else.”
Shigeo absently scratched at his cheek and he felt sweat form on his temple. Though his eyes were trained at the math worksheet and note pages in front of him, splayed out on the dinner table of his home, he felt it was more in line with staring at an abstract drawing than something he’d spent a huge portion of his life trying to learn. His brain felt strangely heavy.
He felt a gentle grip on his shoulder, fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. Comforting. Shigeo angled his eyes a little to glance at Teruki, who wore a smile and twirled a pencil in his other hand. Teruki, despite the fact he was what Shigeo understood to be a busy, popular, and studious person, had made time in his schedule to help Shigeo work on his math.
Ritsu was constantly torn between the stress of being a student council member, the stress of being an honors student, and finally having a friend to visit, so Shigeo didn’t want to pester. Master Reigen had explained that, of the things he was extremely good at (of which he assured Shigeo there were many), math was not one of them. After a particularly grueling evening spent puzzling over Shigeo’s homework, Reigen had discreetly shot a text to Teruki and Sho asking if they knew anything about math. Both responded instantly.
Sho said, “ fuck math .” Teruki said, “ be there in 5 ,” and he was. The rest is history. Except history would be a lot easier, and Shigeo probably wouldn’t need tutoring, so this whole situation would not have unfurled the way it did.
Teruki patted his shoulder once more and let go. “You’ve made a lot of progress, Kageyama, so don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”
Shigeo’s shoulders slumped a little, resigned to the lack of contact. He swallowed drily, hyper-aware of the bright sting in his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess.”
It wasn’t as though Shigeo was entirely new to this situation. After all, he’d had years of experience pining after Tsubomi. Which, granted, he wasn’t sure was over, but it had been considerably displaced from his focus by the fact that he saw Tsubomi from a distance at school, and only sometimes. Teruki, on the other hand, called Shigeo his friend, and was constantly saying such kind things about him.
And perhaps most pertinently, he saw Teruki everywhere .
Out at dinner with Reigen? Teruki, Ritsu, and Sho come with. Working? Teruki sometimes drops by. Doing homework, in his own house? Teruki is there, being helpful. So it would be little wonder that, yes, his situation with Teruki seemed to have taken the priority.
“Don’t get discouraged,” Teruki said, standing up to return to the opposite side of the table, where he’d left his notebook, pens, calculator, and a wide array of highlighters. He sat down with a flourish, crossing his legs and shrugging. “After all, you’ve got my help. And I know you can do it.”
Shigeo just hummed and looked at the notes again so that he wouldn’t stare at Teruki. His mom said he had a tendency to stare. Under the table, he wrung his hands to keep himself calm, feeling a familiar clamminess on his skin. He was having trouble focusing.
So when the door clicked open, it was a welcome interjection. Ritsu stepped inside, brow creased, a flat frown on his face, and let out a sigh. “Hey.”
“Hello!” Teruki called, waving. Ritsu looked up at him, paused for a moment, and nodded, bending down to slip off his sneakers.
“You’re home early,” Shigeo said.
“Yeah. Sho was going to go do something with his mom,” Ritsu said. “I didn’t really want to intrude or anything, and I’ve got to work on an essay, so…”
“Essays suck,” Teruki said, sticking his tongue out from between his teeth. “I’d take a hundred of these stupid math sheets any day. What about you?” He turned his blue eyes to Shigeo.
“Uhhhh,” Shigeo fidgeted, scraping one of his knuckles a little too hard with a fingernail as he twisted his hands together in his hoodie pocket. To his knowledge, he’d been doing a fairly good job keeping this whole issue under wraps. Nobody had brought it up to him so far, like with Tsubomi. “I, uh, don’t have a preference. Ritsu writes really well.”
“Well, they come easier to you than me. Your ideas are always strong,” Ritsu said, stepping forward to join them in the dining area.
“Oh yeah? Writing is the only class I do badly in.” He quirked one eyebrow, leaning his chin on one hand and grinning across the table. “Maybe I should get you to tutor me, Kageyama.” Shigeo held his gaze, determined not to be jumpy, even though he felt his ears burn. He knew Teruki probably didn’t mean anything by it, since Shigeo couldn’t even imagine himself tutoring, but the way Teruki said it made his stomach flip.
This was not good.
Shigeo knew that he was letting out a long “uhhhhhhh,” but felt just detached enough that he couldn’t stop himself until Teruki waved his hand. “That was mostly just a joke.” He nodded and turned to look at Ritsu, but Ritsu was fixing Teruki with a strange look. Shigeo was not very good at reading expressions in the first place, but this one was utterly foreign to him.
While Shigeo looked at Ritsu, he became acutely aware of the fact that Teruki’s eyes were still on him and realized he hadn’t responded. “Oh. Well, I wouldn’t mind trying to help you out, I guess,” Shigeo said, turning back. “I just don’t know how much help I’d be.”
Without skipping a beat, Teruki said, “I think you’d do amazing,” and flashed Shigeo a grin.
Well, that about did it.
Shigeo knew he was staring, and just hoped his face was as blank as it felt. It seemed to be, because Teruki leaned back into his chair and glanced at Ritsu, arms crossed behind his head, seemingly unaware of the incomprehensible buzz of thoughts behind Shigeo's eyes. “What’s that face for?”
“I’m not making a face,” Ritsu said, his unreadable expression deepening, somehow.
Teruki sighed. “Okay, whatever.” He shifted slightly and murmured, “getting kinda hungry.”
Ritsu's face turned into a scowl. “You’re always fucking hungry.”
The idea hit Shigeo like a truck, knocking whatever held his windpipe shut out of place. “Oh. I’ll go get food, then.”
Teruki blinked at him. “I guess it is due time for a break,” he said, standing up. “I’ll get my shoes.”
Before he could think, Shigeo blurted out, “No, that’s okay. I’ll go. I just,” he racked his brain for something to say, but found nothing.
“Do you need a moment, Shige?” Ritsu asked, smiling slightly. Shigeo’s shoulders relaxed just a touch and he nodded. “Okay, we’ll wait for you.”
“Do you need money?” Teruki asked, reaching for his pocket.
“Our parents left us some while they’re out for the week,” Shigeo said, fighting the urge to dash out the door, mouth running a mile a minute. “I’ll just go to the place around the corner, I know everyone’s orders, I’ll be right back.”
“See you!” Teruki called, and Shigeo shut the door in a hurry, aware he probably slammed it too loud.
The air outside was much cooler than it was in the house – or at least, it sure seemed that way where the wind blew on his face. He gave himself a few minutes of just breathing, easing his nerves, before he even started to walk.
He felt his face twist into a little frown, teeth digging into the inside of his cheek enough for it to sting a bit. When he let go, he began to move his feet. Slowly, deliberately.
That was a close call.
“So,” Ritsu began slowly, voice calm but coated in iron, “I hope you realize that you won’t get away with dancing around this situation.”
Teruki turned to face him, brows pressed down against his skull. “I’m gonna need a little more context than that.”
The silence that preceded the comment had been heavy, analytical. It was unusual for Shigeo to leave the two of them alone together. Ritsu had been watching Teruki with calculating eyes, and though there was no overt malice on his face, Teruki had the prickly sensation of being dissected. Ritsu leveled him with this stare for a few long moments further after speaking, eyes a little narrower and more confused.
“Context,” Ritsu repeated, and Teruki nodded slowly. “Okay. My brother is the context here.”
“I’m dancing around your brother.” Ritsu gave a nod that was halfway between convicted and dumbfounded. “I mean. I’m at your house, Ritsu. He’ll be back any minute now –“
Ritsu let out a sharp groan, running a hand through his choppy hair. “Oh, for the love of – Hanazawa. Do you…Are you really not sure what I’m talking about? Because if you’re playing dumb, I’ll – …well, I don’t know what.”
Teruki looked down at the table he sat at, index finger curled over his lower lip. Dancing around Kageyama? From Teruki’s perspective, that wasn’t the case at all. Between Reigen frequently inviting them out for ramen as a group and Teruki tutoring Shigeo with math becoming a regular event for the last few months, they’d been seeing each other a lot more frequently. Not to mention, he liked to drop in and say hi every once in a while.
Ritsu’s expression had grown hard again. Teruki felt the back of his neck grow clammy. Though he considered them almost friends, and Ritsu had nowhere near the experience with his psychic powers as he or Shigeo did, his ruthlessness was duly noted and Teruki did not want to get on his bad side. From the scrutiny, he began to wonder if he’d, in fact, gotten on the younger brother’s shit list.
“Is this,” Teruki swallowed against his tight throat, tilting his head slightly from the table to where Ritsu was leaned against the wall to his left, one knee bent to rest his foot on the wall, “um. Is this about…our fight? Back at Black Vinegar?” Ritsu creased his brows, mouth hanging open slightly, like words had died before he could say them, and an incredulous expression took him over. “I probably never properly…apologized for that. At least, not to the extent I should have. Shit. I – “
“Holy shit,” Ritsu mumbled. His expression was almost blank, eyes wide. “You really have. No idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
Not the fight, then. “No?” Teruki said helpfully.
The palm of Ritsu’s hand found his face with a loud smack , and Teruki twitched slightly as he let out what sounded like a muffled scream. Once the sound died, Ritsu stood up straight, fixing Teruki with an impressively sharp glare despite the painful red of his forehead.
Voice dripping with exasperation, Ritsu said, “Would you like me to spell it out for you, then?”
Teruki nodded. “If I’m, ah, doing something to cause him trouble, I would want to know. He’s had enough trouble from me. He doesn’t deserve it from anyone. He’s too nice a guy.”
Before the words were even all the way out of his mouth, Ritsu let out an “AUGH” of frustration. “For FUCK’s sake, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Do you have any self-reflection?!”
Getting caught up in insults, are we? “Are you going to tell me or not, little brother?” Teruki said, letting a hint of irritation spike through his neutral tone.
Ritsu let out a breathy sigh, seeming to catch his anger before it got out of hand. He looked down and shook his head. “Okay. Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve got a crush on my brother.”
Teruki wanted to burst out laughing, slap his knee, doubled over with tears in his eyes. He wanted to respond with a familiar cocky anger at the nerve some bratty preteen had to judge his personal feelings, to think he had any say in it. He wanted to refute the point with bewildered indignation, shocked that a friendship he’d worked so hard to prove was worthwhile could be so misconstrued.
Teruki did none of those things. Instead, feeling something awkward and heavy in his stomach, he met Ritsu’s carefully analytical stare once more, and let out a weak, shaky “Oh?”
“Well, good to know you weren’t intentionally avoiding the subject,” Ritsu said, shrugging and leaning back toward the wall, face still hard with irritation. “Do with that information what you will, but by God, do something . It’s getting hard to watch.”
“Hard to…hard to watch?” Teruki stumbled to his feet, fully facing Ritsu. “I don’t – this seems ridiculous, don’t you think? Like…” Ritsu quirked a brow. Teruki spluttered at the sweat he could feel forming on the back of his neck and he tried to scratch it away. “A crush on – no, no I don’t think – you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I!” Ritsu said, an utterly joyless smile splitting his face. “Shige has literally never been as close to someone he didn’t feel was his family as he is to you. He tells me all the nice things you say.”
“I-I just like to give compliments.”
“Bull shit ,” Ritsu hissed. “When do you ever compliment anyone else?”
Teruki didn’t say anything for a moment. He had never thought about any of this, but he felt strangely exposed nonetheless. “He’s…he’s such a nice person. I just want him to know that, right? He doesn’t seem to think it of himself…”
Ritsu looked unfazed. “Great. Yeah. Sure. I agree. So you lavish him with shit like – “ he paused to flip his hair mockingly – “’Kageyama, you’re just amazing.’ ‘I think you’re very handsome, Kageyama.’ ‘I’m so lucky to have met you, Kageyama.’ ‘You have such lovely eyelashes.’ ‘I’m just head-over-heels for you, Kageyama.’” He made a disgusted face at Teruki.
It took Teruki a moment to realize – “I-I never said the last one,” he stammered, ashamed at the weakness in his voice. His face was getting hot, like the bright light of a microscope scorching his skin as Ritsu trained his dark eyes on him.
“Right. Of course.” Ritsu nodded with mock wisdom. “Then let’s talk about how you can’t keep your hands off him.”
“I can!”
“Well you don’t,” Ritsu said. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught you literally centimeters apart, arms and legs all twisted up like some god damn squid fight? Dozing off on his shoulder? Fucking laying across his lap?” Teruki was about to protest, but it died when Ritsu continued. “He doesn’t even like physical contact!”
Teruki’s brain went off on autopilot. “Oh, shit, he doesn’t? Figures he wouldn’t say anything. He’s too nice. I’ll have to ask – or should I just back off? Maybe…” He trailed off when he caught Ritsu’s eye, a glint of amusement there. “I’m just – I’m trying to be considerate,” Teruki said, and felt his face turn warm. “I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.”
“He’s not,” Ritsu waved him off with surprising sincerity. Somehow, that was more disconcerting than every microscope-stare that Teruki had been shown before. “I mean, ask him yourself by all means. But if he didn’t want you to touch him he’d have kept moving away. He’d let you know.” He gave a noncommittal shrug.
Sighing did not ease the heat in Teruki’s face. All of this seemed…well, perhaps not wrong. But if anything it was something that required a lot of careful thought. He looked away, gripping at the sleeves of his uniform. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t know about this.”
“It’s mostly the way you look at him.”
Teruki blinked. Ritsu had a completely unfamiliar expression on his face, something that vaguely reminded him of childhood. “I look at him weirdly?” Ritsu shrugged and leaned off the wall again, putting his hands into his pockets.
Ritsu suddenly angled his head to the doorway to his side. “Brother, there you are.”
With a jump, like he’d been caught, Teruki whipped his head to where Ritsu was looking, feeling a smile break his face. “Ah, Kageyama! Nice to – “
Nobody was there. Teruki turned back to Ritsu to see him holding up his phone, mouth twisted into something between a cruel smirk and a laugh. “That hallway doesn’t even lead to the door. I thought you’d know that.” But before Teruki could say anything back, Ritsu flipped his phone screen to face him.
Teruki was met with an image of an expression he’d never seen on himself before, not for all his incessant posing at the mirror. A wobbly smile was splitting his profile and eyes heavy-lidded and gentle. There was even a little pink on his cheeks. He looked positively sheepish.
His voice came out hoarse and raspy as the heat that rose from his chest to his cheeks dried out his throat, and he brought a hand to his mouth shakily. “Oh my God.”
Ritsu’s bitter half-smirk barely covered the wicked glee he seemed to glean from having leverage against Teruki. “You know, when I decided to bring this up, I thought it’d be more like a lecture, or an argument.” He chuckled. “but I’m honestly having a field day. This is fun.”
“For you, maybe!” Teruki’s voice came out much higher than he wanted it to be, and Ritsu put his phone back in his pocket. “Holy fuck. I do that every time?”
“Every single goddamn time.”
“Delete that picture.”
Ritsu gave a little snicker. “Never.”
“What picture?”
Teruki would usually have felt some sort of satisfaction at the little yelp and jump Ritsu made, except on this occasion, he did the same thing. Shigeo stood in the doorway, red eyes a little wide under his flat-edged fringe, bags of food clutched a little too tightly in one hand. Ritsu calmed down instantly, because that jumpy bastard had nothing to be ashamed of, but Teruki’s face felt like it was hovering over a volcano.
“Hello, brother. Hanazawa and I were just chatting.” Ritsu had a genuinely kind expression on his face, mild and easygoing. The kind of expression Teruki thought he had until roughly half a minute before. Even now, he could feel that stupid grin threatening to break through the furious heat of his face.
“Oh,” Shigeo said, stepping forward to set the bag on the table. His eyes found Teruki’s face, and he asked, “Do you have a fever again?”
The plain tone of his voice brought Teruki back down to reality. He took a deep breath, pressing his hand to his forehead. A little warm, but certainly not a fever. “No, looks like I’m okay. Thanks for bringing the food.”
Shigeo gave him a little smile and nod, which Teruki returned, and sat back down in his chair. “Little brother and I were just having a bit of a teasing argument is all.” Ritsu looked around at him from behind Shigeo, frowning, but he must have caught the steely look Teruki tried to send his way, because he just huffed.
“I see,” Shigeo said, somewhat distracted as he slowly and deliberately placed the food at their seats appropriately. “I’m glad you two are getting along.”
Shigeo did not see the stink eye Ritsu sent Teruki from his other side, to which Teruki shrugged and said, “You just bring people together, Kageyama.” Though the comment was only halfway meant as a sincere compliment, Ritsu’s face contorted into a barely-restrained grin, his fist pressed up against his chin and one finger bitten against a laugh. “Shut the fuck up,” Teruki whispered without thinking, cheeks tingling.
Shigeo didn’t seem to acknowledge the second comment, instead finding his seat and saying, “Well, we better eat before the food cools off too much.”
“Thank you, brother,” Ritsu said, sitting down next to Shigeo. The smug look he fixed Teruki with as they started to eat was the happiest face he’d ever seen that little shithead make. Teruki flipped him off.