Chapter Text
Tadashi didn’t have many talents when he was eleven, but hiding inside during recess was definitely one.
It was the world’s worst battle royale - dodging teachers that would hustle him outside and bullies that would terrorize him if he breathed funny - but Tadashi felt that he’d mastered the craft.
He had been idly threading through the vacant classes one day, chewing a cheap onigiri. This manoeuvre was secretly genius - if stopped by a teacher, Tadashi would simply tell them that he was looking for something he had lost. Easy. Innocuous. Brilliant, honestly.
“Young man?”
Tadashi nearly dropped his food, and he guiltily blinked up at the teacher. Okay, yes, his plan was quite clever, as long as you didn’t factor in how horrifically asocial he was.
“What are you doing in here? All students have to be outside during recess.” The teacher crossed her arms, a display of emphasis.
“I- I was looking for- well, I lost…” Tadashi mumbled, panicking. God help him if she pressed him further.
“You lost something?”
“...yes?”
“Was it a purple hoodie? With a moon on it?” She relaxed. Tadashi nodded frantically, grateful for the leeway. “Don’t worry, I saw it on a table in the class next door. Come with me.”
Tadashi did his best to hide his furtive horror, simply accepting the garment and scurrying out of the classroom upon the teacher’s command. His anxiety quelled, though, as he clasped at the fabric of the hoodie, marveling at how luxuriously soft it was. And big. Man, this thing must be expensive. And it smells pretty nice too. Who even owns this? I’ve never seen anyone wearing it.
He decided to take the opportunity to meander (as slowly as he could) to the lost and found. Honestly, Tadashi considered his plan to still be brilliant, albeit an accidental brilliance. But if the mistakes still make the plan work, doesn’t that make the plan even greater...?
His thoughts immediately dissipated, however, when he rounded the corner and saw a boy already digging through the lost and found. A very cute boy, he should add. A very, very cute boy, who was - oh God, he was looking at him.
He rose from the lost and found, making Tadashi fluster further. This boy was at least half a foot taller than him - no, than literally anyone else in their grade. His glasses slid down his smooth nose, his eyes a startlingly honey, boring intelligently into Tadashi’s own.
Tadashi swallowed, uncertain of the boy’s intense stare. Neither of them said anything for a good few seconds.
Eventually, Tadashi wracked up some courage. “What- um, what are you looking for...?”
The boy flitted his gaze from the hoodie, to Tadashi, to the hoodie, and then back up to Tadashi. He pointed to Tadashi’s hands. “That.”
Tadashi extended it nervously towards him, his arms trembling with maybe-anxiety-maybe-excitement. The boy sighed, hitching up his glasses, before gently pushing the purple material back towards Tadashi. “Forget it. You keep it.”
He left no room for a response. The boy stalked off, as cute as ever, leaving Tadashi to drag his jaw off the floor.
The very picosecond that Tadashi got home, he charged into his bedroom and yanked the hoodie over himself, his heart fluttering at the weight of the lush fabric. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, and could practically imagine that boy was the one holding him instead. It felt good.
This went without saying, but Tadashi wasn’t quite used to friends. Or, well, any positive interactions with his peers. So to describe him as ‘overwhelmed’ was an understatement. Tadashi was absolutely brimming with awe. Engulfed.
His name didn’t allude him for long - Tsukishima Kei, he discovered, after dawdling at the school’s getabako the next day. He decided to affectionately dub him 'Tsukki' instead.
And, just like that, Tadashi’s fascination had been sparked.
Tadashi didn’t dare to approach him again, much less wear that hoodie anywhere outside of his room. He was much more delighted to observe Tsukki from a distance, to drink in every minute twitch and habit, and then drown in the hoodie when he got home. The cycle he had formed was glorious.
It was wonderfully comforting to watch Tsukki, to loiter after him in hallways, to glare at girls who ogled him. Tadashi knew the boy didn’t like people much, him included, so he never encroached. Or let anyone else try.
One day, (as fate would have it, Tadashi later decided) he had been walking through a nearby neighborhood, experimentally taking a shortcut to the supermarket. Lo and behold, there was Tsukki, in front of what must be his house. He was playing on the front lawn with an older boy, ducking through sprinklers in delighted shrieks - it made Tadashi’s heart throb with fondness.
Akiteru, he thought to himself. He’d done his research, after seeing him pick up Tsukki once, clad in an Amemaru volleyball uniform. It was almost too easy to sneak into a game, to blend into school bleachers and catch Akiteru’s name from the announcer. He didn’t quite carry the enthrall of his Tsukki, but he made the boy smile, and Tadashi decided that there was no need for intervention.
But, now, Tadashi had hit a gold mine. Finding out a family member’s name was light work. Easy pickings. He watched the boys dashing through sprinklers through his peripheral vision, doing his resolute best to keep walking and not keel over from giddiness. This was confirmation of Tsukki’s address, practically bestowed to him on a gold platter. And not even Midas' touch could have stopped him now.
That night, he simply had to indulge himself. Once Tadashi had caught the quiet snoring of his mother, he shimmied out the window, leaving a small crack in the mesh insect screen to provide an easy return.
He wasn’t planning on doing anything dubious - not yet, anyway. Tadashi just wanted to stare at the house a little bit. Get himself familiar with the property. Tonight was only to satisfy curiosity; more ambitious endeavors could be planned later.
The street was hollow and intimidating, the moon waning crescent above him. Tadashi had never been out past his bedtime before, much less by himself, but he persevered. It was a quick trip to and back. No big deal. And it was for Tsukki's sake, after all.
The Tsukishima house was just as impressive in the din of nightfall. Only one window boasted any light - the one with the toy dinosaur on its windowsill - and Tadashi had his gleeful suspicions as to whose room it might be.
There wasn’t really any way to clamber up to that window for a better look, and it was far too risky to somehow attempt entry. Tadashi resolved to remain on the sidewalk, ducking behind the Tsukishima’s respective garbage bin. His heart hammered in his ears as he leered up at the window, willing one thing: please, please, please just let Tsukki walk past. The briefest glimpse would satiate Tadashi, and send him cheering and skipping home.
Just…one look…
And, lo, his patience rewarded him. Screw brief glances through windows - the front door of the residence swung right open, beholding a dashingly gorgeous Tsukki and the (less attractive) bag of garbage that he was lugging with him.
Wait.
Tadashi startled so suddenly that he almost knocked the bin over. A bag of garbage?! Oh no - Tsukki was coming this way!
There was nowhere to run, not without blowing his cover. Tadashi had no choice but to remain bunkered behind the garbage bin, as out of view as he could manage, willing Tsukki to not look too closely. He couldn’t bear the thought of Tsukki seeing him, being disgusted, and…Tadashi didn’t want to contemplate it further. But, hell, it was seconds away from unfolding. What could he do?
Nothing, he accepted sorrowfully. Nothing but sit here and freak out.
Footsteps clicked up the path, steadily approaching closer, and Tadashi prayed away an onset aneurysm. Dread shuddered through him in devastating waves. Please, please, just…
The pitter-patter stopped. A suffocating silence lugged in the air. Tadashi braced for the worst.
A faint rustle. Then, Tadashi stiffened when the bin shook against the force of garbage falling within it, rickety on its wheels. There was a clapping, as though Tsukki was dusting off his hands. Then the footsteps resumed, growing fainter, returning to the house.
Tadashi counted sixty seconds after the click of the door before he let himself breathe again, gasping desperately and willing anxious bile to stay in his stomach. He counted a further sixty seconds before he peeked around the garbage again.
The curtains were drawn in Tsukki's room.
Thank. Christ.
Tadashi immediately began clawing around in the garbage, frenzied and erratic, searching for some sort of memento. He felt fairly certain that if he didn’t have something physical to commemorate the occasion, the adrenaline comedown would make him think this was a hallucination.
His fingers brushed across spongy nylon. Jackpot.
Tadashi tore the kneepad out of the trash and skipped off sharpish, bounding down the road and resisting the urge to tra-la-la along the way. He clambered back into his room, head spinning from a combination of stress and exhilaration.
There's… there’s no way that just happened.
But the proof is in the pudding. Here he is, adrenaline still sky-high and kneepad still in sweaty hands. Tadashi turned the material here and there, stretching it experimentally. No tears or scratches…
Tugging it over his own knobby leg, Tadashi found that it swung loosely at his knee. His heart thudded, suddenly aching - oh, how cute. His Tsukki must’ve outgrown it, growing as strong and steady as ever. Though Tadashi momentarily lamented that the other kneepad must’ve also been in the trash. What a shame.
He slipped the fabric off his leg, sniffing it experimentally, probing his fingers all over it, as though he could scoop out Tsukki’s essence. Maybe bottle it up somewhere. Alas, as warm as the fabric felt in his palms, all remnants of Tsukki were admittedly imaginary.
Maybe I should aim bigger, Tadashi contemplated, tucking the kneepad in a box under his bed that he had pre-allocated in preparation for tonight. His Tsukki stash.
(Currently, it only beheld the kneepad, the wondrous hoodie, some pens, and a microfiber cloth. But Tadashi was determined to work at it.)
He took out the hoodie and tugged it on, shivering at the way it enveloped him. That joy never got old. How kind his Tsukki was.
Laying there in bed, Tadashi decided to amend an earlier sentiment, as Tsukki-induced drowsiness called him into wondrous sleep. Yes, Tadashi didn’t have many skills as an eleven-year old, but loving Tsukki was one he was determined to master.
High school was a different battle.
He had ridden out the rest of elementary and middle school with astounding progress - Tadashi had made a commitment to his betrothed, after all. He had kept well away from Tsukki, his adorations unstoppable but unbeknownst to the boy.
Tadashi was confident that nobody had racked up the comprehensive knowledge on Tsukki like he had, or put in the hours upon hours of following the boy on a day-to-day (minute-to-minute) basis. Certainly, nobody had a scrapbook of photos like he had, brimming with candids and… ‘crunchy’ pages. And, most definitely, nobody had a Tsukki stash like Tadashi did. From toffee wrappers to broken glasses to (now-defiled) clothes, he had it all.
Like he said, loving Tsukki was something he was en route to mastering. But it would probably help to start actually talking to him.
Now, this wasn't coming out of nowhere or anything. Really, Tadashi would’ve been content to slug out a slow burn with his Tsukki. He knew he’d come on a little strong (a lot strong) if he were to approach him all at once, so Tadashi opted to tread slowly and take his time.
But something happened. And suddenly, there was sand in his hourglass.
Tadashi was walking back from the restroom, fiddling with the hall pass in his hand. The hallways felt soft, languid, lazy in the glow of early afternoon. On a whim, before returning to class, he had decided to detour and pause at the vending machine; he’d grown genuinely partial to strawberry milk. Though, that might be the Stockholm syndrome from fishing Tsukki’s leftover cartons out of the trash and sucking on the straws. Yes, he did it to relish in the flavor of Tsukki, but the actual drink was also pretty good.
But, when he reached the corridor, Tsukki was already at the machine.
Fuck.
Heat instantly flamed up to Tadashi’s face - he hadn’t prepared for this. It’s not that he didn’t already know that Tsukki had a free period around this time, but he normally spent it in the library, which was way on the other side of the building. What the hell was he doing here?
Not to mention, this was the third time ever that Tadashi had risked increased proximity, (i.e. being within a six-foot radius of Tsukki), and the previous two times, he’d psyched himself up for days in advance. This…this is way too sudden!
But, whether for better or for worse, Tsukki was already looking at him. He nodded in Tadashi’s direction, in lieu of a verbal greeting.
“...hello?” Tadashi mumbled like an idiot, the hall pass slipping out of his hands momentarily. He caught it in midair, face aflame with embarrassment.
“Do you have change for this?” Tsukki held up a 500-yen coin, and (after a brief pause when he realized Tsukki was actually talking to him) Tadashi nodded hurriedly. He dug around in his pocket for five 100-yen coins, splaying them out. Tsukki hummed approval, making Tadashi go hot all over.
For the briefest moment, Tadashi worried about how sweaty his palms were, before the absolute greatest bliss washed over him.
Tsukki’s hands were so lithe, so cold, so smooth as they swam over Tadashi’s own. Long, pale fingers curled over sparse freckles, lingering for long enough that Tadashi was certain Tsukki could feel his pulse through the palmar arch.
Then, Tsukki handed over the 500-yen coin, glancing up and catching his eyes, letting his hand rest on Tadashi’s. Tsukki’s pupils dilated and relaxed ever so slightly, like a camera shutter. It was literally the simplest muscle twitch. Involuntary. Straight-up, just, pupillary light reflex. But it made those attoseconds feel like millennia.
And that’s just the eye-contact: there’s still the glorious 500-yen coin, still warm with Tsukki's fingerprints, that Tadashi had just been given. Like it was no big deal.
Tsukki withdrew his hand, returning to the vending machine and pointing. “Do you want anything?”
“E-eh?”
“I said, do you want anything?”
Tadashi felt his soul leave his body. “Sure.”
He gets awarded another hum of approval. If I’m ever hospitalized, Tadashi decided. Don’t hook me up to an oxygen reservoir. Just have Tsukki walk in and nod approvingly. It’ll cure whatever’s wrong with me.
Tsukki didn’t ask what Tadashi wanted. He tapped in the digits for a strawberry milk and a matcha KitKat. He dropped the chocolate into Tadashi’s hands, sharp eyes flitting over him once more to gauge his reaction.
If it had been anyone else in this situation, they may have just accepted the chocolate awkwardly, or wondered why Tsukki didn’t ask them what they wanted. If it had been someone slightly more enlightened than that, they would’ve recognized Tsukki’s actions as a silent test, but they still wouldn’t know what the boy was searching for. Both types of people would’ve failed to recognize the clever intricacy of Tsukki’s actions. Tsukki was just that smart, just that deliberate.
Tadashi wanted to grin. As elaborate and clever as Tsukki’s plan was, he’d neglected to account for one detail: he was standing before the full professor of Tsukkiology.
Tsukki’s decision could be misinterpreted as rude or controlling, but the reality was quite the opposite: the matcha KitKat that Tadashi was currently holding was acting as a pH indicator, and Tsukki was carefully watching for an observable reaction. He was interested in the result. He was interested in getting to know Tadashi.
Needless to say, reverie didn’t even begin to describe how Tadashi felt. But, despite the fact that he was literally half-hard from just from being watched by Tsukki, Tadashi had spent too many years fantasizing about a moment like this just to falter now. Wasting such a wondrous opportunity? Absolutely not. He had to consider his next actions carefully.
Matcha chocolate. Not unconventional enough to be expressly weird, but Tsukki doesn’t really know me; it’s not a safe bet, like milk chocolate would’ve been. If I blindly thank him for it, Tsukki will view me as a desperate puppy who only seeks to please him, certainly not someone worth his time. If I express blatant distaste, Tsukki will view me as an ungrateful brat, who also isn’t worth his time. A mixed reaction would only frustrate him, and cause him to abandon this whole thing altogether…so the correct response is obvious.
Tadashi gave him a shy smile. “Matcha chocolate…I’ve never had it before.”
No color change.
Tsukki smiled back. More indicator would be needed. “Try it, then.”
They idled by the vending machine, tucking into their respective snacks. Tadashi opted not to speak again, instead nodding happily as he chewed. He mentally cheered when Tsukki sidled ever so slightly closer. It seemed that Tadashi had given Tsukki the results he wanted. Not too obvious, but not too defiant. Enough fight to give Tsukki something to bite, but not so much that it would tear his teeth out. Tadashi sort of wished Tsukki would bite him, leaving an undoubtedly sugar-rotted tooth in his skin.
Standing so close really made their height difference more stark than ever. Tsukki didn’t say anything, but Tadashi caught the little blush rising high in his pale cheeks. Too cute. Man, I’m gonna have to go back to the bathroom just to jack off.
“...Hey,” Tsukki ventured. Tadashi wondered if he was dreaming. Was he really standing here with the love of his life? Was he really talking to him? “Do you remember me from elementary school?”
Oh God, the heart problems that Tadashi was going to have.
See, here was the problem with lying directly to Tsukki: you’d never get away with it. Okay, Tsukki wasn’t psychic - he wouldn’t necessarily know what the lie was, but he’d know if you were lying. And, once he knew that, he’d pry the truth out of you eventually.
Tadashi wouldn’t make a rookie mistake like lying completely, or dodging the question. Partial-truths were the way to go.
“Of course I do - you gave me your hoodie that one time.” Tadashi beamed. He omitted the I’ve also been stalking you ever since that moment and have fucked myself to the thought of you every night. Maybe Tsukki didn’t need to know all of that just yet.
Tsukki seemed mildly surprised by the reply. “I never saw you wear it.”
“Well, it was really big on me. I ended up wearing it as pajamas.” Every night, while imagining you were holding me. And, when I outgrew it, I just went to sleep while holding it like a plushie.
Tsukki seemed satisfied with that answer. “You should get back to class.”
No, I should go take care of this boner before it develops sentience and walks away. “Hah, yeah, you’re right.”
A silence bled in between them, but it wasn’t awkward. Tadashi had been watching Tsukki since he was eleven, and he knew they were one in the same: two misanthropic losers who never had any friends. Tadashi would never take Tsukki’s reticence personally; he watched this boy grow up, after all.
“I’ll walk you there.”
“Eh- What?! How do-”
“Come on.”
Tsukki turned on his heel, strides long and elegant. Tadashi wasted no time plodding along beside him, spluttering as he went. “Y-you-! You really don’t have to-”
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
Something about that struck him funny, but once the syllables soothed over his ears, Tadashi immediately forgoed all rationale. Tsukki saying his name…a long-lived fantasy that Tadashi fought hard to convincingly conjure up every night while whining into his pillow.
In this reverie, he fucks up. Like, to the first degree.
“Sorry, Tsukki!”
They both paused at the door to Tadashi’s classroom, and it took Tsukki looking at him weirdly for Tadashi to realize his catastrophic error. He didn’t tell you his name, idiot!
“I, um-!”
Tadashi didn’t get a chance to cover his ass. Tsukki gave him a once-over, shutting him up effectively. His eyes shimmered with mirth, almost knowingly, the smallest grin tugging at his face. “See you around.”
Leaving him staggering, Tsukki stalked off again.
Tadashi didn’t even get to effectively hyperventilate: his teacher swung the door open, red in the face.
“Yamaguchi! Where have you been?! Are you aware you just missed fifteen minutes of my class?”
“I’m sorry, miss.” He couldn’t be bothered to generate an excuse. Tadashi was practically catatonic.
She took a deep breath, put off by Tadashi’s demure reaction.
“Honestly, Yamaguchi. I’d never imagine you to skip class like this. You’re a good student, and a smart boy - you should know better than to dawdle in the restroom.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
The school bell chimed, and she relented, taking the hall pass from his hands. “Please ask your classmates for notes about what you missed.”
Normally, he liked Ms. Hara, and was generally attentive in her classes. But after what just happened? To hell with anyone else on the planet right now - his mind’s only coherent thought was just Tsukki! Tsukki! Tsukki!
“Oh my gosh, were you talking just to Tsukishima?”
Tadashi jumped when two girls, Futaba and Kiruma, approached him. Shock and envy were blatant on their faces, though their smiles were well-meaning.
“No way! Are you guys friends? Did you sneak off to hang out with him? Is that why you were gone for so long?”
“God, he’s so handsome, don’t you think?”
“Are you two close? What sort of things does he like?”
“Is he dating anyone?”
They nattered on, voices intermingling, not even giving Tadashi room to respond. Not that he was going to answer them anyway. They don’t really think they have a chance with him, do they?
Tadashi had run out of time to dither; he had to win Tsukki’s heart, and he had to do it soon.