as i am

by tetsukkis

Summary:

tsukishima kei's biggest regret is losing the love of his life, but years pass and he wonders if he might still have a second chance at winning her back.

Notes:

welcome to my very first haikyuu fic! went overboard and wrote like 15k words lol, but i really hope y'all like it. enjoy!

Tsukishima Kei doesn't like to be told what to do.

Fruit popsicles are a staple amongst the volleyball club of Karasuno High during summers in Miyagi. It's a sight that surprises nobody—customers who trickle in and out of Sakanoshita Market all grew accustomed to the group of teenage boys perching on the steps or leaning against the walls with melting popsicles dripping down their fingers. The sound of cicada fills the hot, summer air along with the faint laughter of children playing somewhere close by.

Tsukishima doesn't particularly hate these moments—not when there's silence for once as the boys are all too busy polishing off their cold treats before it turned their fingers sticky and fruit-flavored.

He minds his own business, a strawberry popsicle halfway through, while he flexes his sore fingers on his left hand. He's too busy ignoring the quip Hinata shoots at Kageyama, the latter turning it into a childish squabble. It's a constant that Tsukishima has gotten used to, even though they were entering their third and final year of high school—some things just stay the same.

"Oi, Tsukki," calls out his closest friend Yamaguchi, newly appointed captain of the team. He's leaning against the vending machine propped against the front of the convenience store, popsicle long finished as he brushes his hand mindlessly against his gym shorts.

Tsukishima twists his head slightly, an indication he was listening.

"Don't you have to go pick up your girlfriend from cram school?" Yamaguchi slips his phone out from his pocket to check the time. "She should be waiting for you by now."

Tsukishima and his girlfriend have been together for one year now—the two having met in their first year in the same home room. He never cared much about girls, finding more interest in other things such as his studies or when his next rewatch would be on one of his Jurassic Park DVDs. Headphones over his ears without playing anything, he minded his own business like always during every lunch period with Yamaguchi next to him.

He never noticed her, not really.

But one lunch period during their second year where they shared the same home room again, with Tsukishima pretending to listen to music as always, he saw her.

She didn't have many friends in class, so she sat alone. But this time, she had found a seat by the windowsill, perched comfortably with her body angled to where he had the full view of her face. He could see the way she had wired earphones plugged in, head bopping along to whatever music she was listening to. Her eyes were shut, hair falling in cascading waves that glowed a shade lighter from the way sunlight streamed through the window and bathed her in its warmth.

Tsukishima never paid the girls in his class any attention. Not when they smiled at him or left little trinkets in his locker. And most especially not when they gushed over his height or coyly twirled their hair while pestering him on his volleyball skills. He'd hoped they took the hint every time he'd sneered back some condescending remark or brusquely turn down their advances with a smug chuckle and a wave of his hand.

There was only one girl in his class who didn't care about him. Only one who never approached him or even secretly ogled him with hearts in her eyes.

And she was there, sitting by the window, bento box left aside with her lunch all eaten as she head-banged to whatever music captivated her at the moment.

It intrigued Tsukishima, and he found himself unable to look away. Before he could even stop himself, he'd pushed himself off his seat, ignoring Yamaguchi's query on what he was doing, and strode to a stop directly in front of her She hadn't even noticed him towering over her, still nodding absentmindedly with eyes shut and lashes brushing the apples of her cheeks

"Hey," he said flatly, reaching up to tug on one of the wires without actually yanking it off her ear.

She cracked an eye open, tilting her head backwards as she followed the line of his body before finally meeting his gaze. She opened both eyes when she realized it was him, blinking lazily as she removed both earbuds.

Tsukishima can remember the strange flip in his stomach when she looked at him in what he realized was the very first time since they've been classmates.

"Can I help you?" she asked. He didn't think it was possible for someone to have a drawl even drier than his.

He swallowed back the scoff threatening to rise out of his throat. "What're you listening to?"

He didn't particularly care what music she was listening to. But he wanted to know what had her tuning out the world and immersing herself into the melody and symphony blasting in her ears.

"Oh," she mumbled, lips curling into a soft chuckle. She lifted one of the earbuds to him as she said, "Nothing."

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, shoving his own soundless headphones off to hang around his neck, and took the small device from her. He wondered if the heat creeping up the back of his neck was from his fingertips brushing against hers accidentally or from something else.

There was nothing playing on her earphones.

She'd been head-banging to absolutely nothing this whole time.

Tsukishima didn't even smile when he said, "What're you doing this Saturday?" But when she shrugged and said she wasn't doing anything—there was a strange sort of light in his eyes when he walked back to Yamaguchi who'd been curiously watching their interaction from afar.

So when Yamaguchi, glancing over at Tsukishima from where he was leaning against the vending machines, questioned him on his tardiness to picking up his girlfriend from summer cram school—the olive-haired boy gets mildly surprised upon hearing Tsukishima's response.

"Eh," Tsukishima mumbles half-heartedly, chucking the pink-stained stick into the trash bin. "She knows I have practice. She can go home without me."

The new first years are too preoccupied with watching the second years compare wingspans like idiots, but Hinata and Kageyama stand close enough to hear the middle blocker's blunt words. The tangerine-haired boy frowns at Tsukishima, removing himself from the headlock Kageyama has him in. "Oi, Tsukishima," he starts in a chastising voice, "that's not very nice of you." He jabs his elbow sharply into Kageyama's side. "Tell him he's being an asshole."

The setter covers Hinata's face with his palm and shoves him away. Kageyama grunts, however, in agreement. "You're being a really crappy boyfriend right now. She always stays and waits for you if practice extends longer than normal."

Tsukishima has the gall to look annoyed right now as he pushes himself up to stand at his full height. "What do you know about having a girlfriend, King?" he sneers.

"More than you if you don't want to even go pick your girl up." Kageyama raises his chin in defiance. "Keep this attitude up and she'll break up with you." Hinata's yanking on his arm, trying to get Kageyama to back off before a fight breaks out.

A glower forms on the blond's face, anger rising in his chest as it sears red and blinding. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says again, voice darkening in a dangerous way.

"Shittyshima, go pick up your girlfriend, you asshole." The tone of Kageyama's voice infuriates him. What right did someone who's never had a girlfriend or a female friend that wasn't their manager have?

Tsukishima's one remark away from grabbing Kageyama by the collar of his shirt and shoving him. "Don't tell me what to do," he snaps instead.

He sees Yamaguchi in the corner of his eye start to move to them, obviously ready to throw himself between the two if they so much as say another word.

But then the front door to Sakanoshita Market slides open with a forceful bang—and a mop of blond hair appears before them.

"What the hell are you all still doing here?" growls out Coach Ukai, daggers in his eyes as he attempts to swat at them with a feather duster. "Get out! Go home! Eat some real food! I don't wanna see any of ya until next week!"

Tsukishima walks straight home, ignoring Yamaguchi who'd tried to ask him if everything was all right between him and his girlfriend. But the moment he parts from the others and sees the familiar street of his neighborhood, his steps falters. Cursing under his breath, he turns on his heel and grumpily stalks all the way to the direction of her cram school.

He finds her sitting in front of the building that's been locked up for an hour now. She glances up when his shoes come into her line of sight, face stoic as she meets his frowning one—and then a small smile worms its way to her lips. "Kei, you're here," is all she says in a voice that punctures his chest, getting up to take his hand before he could object.

He walks her home, listening to her tell him how cool the advanced Chemistry classes she's learning is and how her friend from Tokyo that she'd met a few months ago in a competition had invited her to some convention. He doesn't say a word except for the occasional hum that lets her know he's listening. He doesn't apologize for making her wait an hour under the heat of the summer sun, and she doesn't complain about it either.

But guilt pools in his stomach when he catches sight of the bead of sweat in the back of her neck when he glances down at her.

Third year rolls into action—taking everyone into a whirlwind of recreating final memories, working on last minute goals before it was too late, drafting essays for college, and busying themselves with studying for upcoming exams. Tsukishima doesn't see her as often as he used to anymore, unlike their second year where they got to eat lunch together and walk home side by side after his volleyball practices. The summer cram school she started going to extends to an everyday after-school thing, and oftentimes she's too mentally exhausted by the end of the day to go over to Tsukishima's house anymore, choosing to go straight home instead.

Tsukishima doesn't offer to pick her up from her cram school, insisting he was just as tired from practice. She doesn't complain, instead compromising by saying she'll come watch his games if she's not busy with her science club that day. He doesn't go to watch her competitions, saying those stuff weren't of his interest—that he'd rather stay home and wait for her to call him and tell him how the contest went.

"Y'know, Tsukki," Yamaguchi tells him one day as they're eating lunch on Tsukishima's desk. She's not with them today, caught up with some lab project that occupies most of her lunch periods. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't know if she even gets to eat a snack before diving back in to classes. "You really ought to be nicer to her."

Tsukishima blinks, chopsticks frozen in the air at the quietness of his olive-haired friend's voice. He slowly lowers the utensils to set atop his half-eaten bento and says, "I didn't think it was any of your concern, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi doesn't even look hurt by the cold tone. He doesn't take his eyes off his food, shrugging at Tsukishima. "'M just sayin'," he speaks through a mouthful of rice, "she puts up with a lot of your bullshit. You don't see her take crap from anyone else in this class."

His friend isn't really one to curse or call him out on his antics, typically finding himself giggling at whatever scornful comment Tsukishima would make. So this chastising of his makes Tsukishima's lips pull into a frown, eyebrows creasing together in the middle. "She never complains about my bad attitude."

"That doesn't mean she enjoys it," his captain says in mild exasperation.

Again—how would his friends who's never had girlfriends before know?

Irritatedly, Tsukishima crosses his arms like a petulant child. "Give me one good example on when I should've been nicer to her." He knows that wasn't fair to ask his friend, Tsukishima knows he's being an asshole to her. He knows there are times he regrets not doing something sweet for her or wishes he can take back an off-handed comment that clearly stung more than he'd intended.

Yamaguchi patiently continues eating his lunch. "She's allergic to peaches."

Tsukishima blinks dumbfounded. "So?"

"So," he stresses the word, "why do you keep getting her that stupid peach castella cake from the konbini?"

He's stumped—like rendered-speechless-stumped.

For a good minute, Tsukishima doesn't say anything. He can't—not when he's opening and closing his mouth like a moron. "I," he finally says, pretending not to feel the unsettling twist in his gut, "I didn't notice—"

"I know you don't," Yamaguchi cuts in with the same patient yet borderline exasperated voice. "Because you always take the last strawberry shortcake on the shelf for yourself, and because the peach castella just so happens to conveniently be next to it, you always get that for her. Do you even know that she likes strawberries as much as you do?"

Tsukishima looks away from Yamaguchi because he doesn't know that. An inkling of shame creeps across him, and he wants this conversation to end more than anything.

"Did you even ask her what she likes and doesn't like, Tsukki? Or is it just all about what you like?"

He pushes his half-eaten bento away and slides his headphones over his ears, no longer wanting to hear his friend berate him for being a shitty boyfriend. He really should finish his lunch since he'll need the strength for extended practices today, but just thinking of what Yamaguchi said makes him lose his appetite completely.

She's waiting for him by the stands when he finishes practice later that day, tucked away in the corner with her earphones plugged in listening to nothing. Tsukishima waits for her to hurry down to him when he shoulders his gym bag, and he frowns when Hinata walks by to give her a friendly hello. This spurs the others to also come talk to her, asking her about her day and how things are going in her science club. Growing impatient, Tsukishima wraps his scarf around his neck and over his lips before heading out of the gym first.

She notices this of course, swiftly telling the other boys that she was going to hurry after him before politely bowing her goodbyes. "Kei, wait for me," she calls out to him, the pitter-patter of her footsteps echoing behind him.

Tsukishima doesn't stop, but he slows down to match her strides. He feels her by his side, panting slightly to catch her breath as air fogs up before her. She isn't wearing a scarf despite the fact it was approaching the dead of winter—he feels the beginnings of a frown on his face again. They walk to the direction of her house.

"You should've brought a scarf," he says, but doesn't make a move to offer her his. He doesn't realize he's shuffling a step closer to her, his thick jacket brushing against hers as heat seeps in between them.

She merely shrugs. "I'll live," she says blandly. "I don't mind the cold all too much."

A question burns in the back of Tsukishima's throat, but he bites his tongue and continues the walk to her house in silence. She's telling him about the project she's working on in the lab, he's listening—but the atmosphere feels different. Strained.

She pushes her front gate open, slipping inside only for him to wrap his long, bruised fingers around her wrist. She freezes for a second when he gives her a tug, gentle in a way that makes his stomach clench. "Hey, hold on a second," he murmurs, his scarf slipping down his lips so his words don't come out muffled.

She lets him tug her, drawing her in just a few steps toward him. She's close enough for him to count the lashes that brush her skin with every blink, to make out the pink flush on her cheeks that he wonders if it's from the cold—or from him.

"Why didn't you tell me about your peach allergy?" His thumb brushes across the inside of her wrist, she's so soft against the roughness of his fingertips.

She tilts her head to the side. "I did, Kei." No anger, no hurt, no bitterness over the fact that her boyfriend forgot about the one thing—the only thing—that makes her break out into hives and causes her throat and face to swell up. Somehow, the resigned smile on her face stings Tsukishima in his chest.

"Why'd you let me give you all those castella cakes?" Deep down, he knows the answer—but he asks it anyways.

The smile doesn't waver from her face when she takes her wrist from his grasp, bringing her hand up to his face. He doesn't move away, not when she traces the tips of her cold fingers along the line of his jaw. Her touch isn't the same searing hot he'd once felt a year ago when they first started dating—but it lingers like an imprint of an afterthought.

Against his better judgment, he turns his head slightly—nuzzling a little closer to her touch like he was searching for that bit of warmth.

"It's all right, Kei," she says, retracting her hand back to let it swing on her side. Her voice is soft, much unlike the dismissive drawl she'd use on everyone else as though she were perpetually disinterested. Nonchalant, for a lack of a better word. "I don't mind it all too much."

And when she walks away from him to finally retire to the hearth of her home, Tsukishima lets out an exhale. He watches the fog curl up in white clouds in front of him—and he tells himself she deserves better.

That she deserves a boyfriend who was kind and who doted on her. Who gave her his scarf when she was cold and picked her up from cram school on time. She deserves a boyfriend who remembered her fucking allergy.

As Tsukishima makes the silent trek back to his own home, he feels an awful drop in the pit of his stomach. Like every step he takes further away from her ignites a flame of overwhelming guilt that swallows him whole.

He tells himself he'll be better. He'll do better. Because Tsukishima might be an asshole, but he does love her.

 

---

 

Tsukishima Kei doesn't like when his plans are foiled.

It's finally graduation day, and Tsukishima could only describe his current situation as both dreadful and relief. He's held up into a multitude of never-ending pictures, wedged between his mother and big brother, the smiles never once fading from their faces. Hundreds of parents and guests all litter the front lawn of the school as camera flashes go off like bursts of fireworks. He sees Yamaguchi somewhere in the corner with his family, he even sees some of the former students like Daichi and Sugawara who've come to see their kouhai finally graduate—but he doesn't see her.

He realizes his older brother has been talking to him for the last minute, nudging him with a pointed look as he asks if he wants a picture with his girlfriend. They've met her a handful of times whenever his mother makes Tsukishima invite her over for dinner or when he'd take her to his bedroom to study. "She's such a good girl, Kei, treat her right," is what his mother told him over and over—completely unaware of the times he'd sneak her in late at night just to spend a little more time with her in the solace of his bed.

"I don't know where she is," he admits when Akiteru badgers him to go grab her for a photo.

He wonders if her parents had even come to her graduation. They lived all the way in Tokyo, leaving her in the care of her grandparents and aunt here in Miyagi. His features twitch at the thought of her family having forgotten to come see her officially graduate from high school—it sends his insides spiraling as he thinks about how she deserves so much more than that.

"I'll go look for her," he tells his older brother. "You should take Mom to the restaurant first—we'll meet you there." His eyes flick to their mother who's now taking snapshots of random students with large smiles painted on their faces, now frozen in time in their camera roll.

Akiteru nods at the suggestion, waving lazily at him with a "see you there".

Tsukishima walks to the direction of the building, his height giving him an advantage to look past the heads of his now-former classmates. He scans the crowd carefully, trying to pick out her hair color only to come up empty-handed. He walks down the hallways, not a fiber in his body feeling any sort of reminiscence on the times he and Yamaguchi would stroll side by side or the times she'd tag along behind him with his hand reaching for hers like it was a secret language only they spoke.

He finds himself sliding the door to the science club open—it's strange to be here, Tsukishima thinks. He's never truly gone past the threshold before, never curious about what it was she did inside. She's never asked him to as well, knowing he was going to say no anyways.

An unexplainable sensation overcomes him as he stands looking inside the empty room. She's not in here, yet she seems to fill the whole space with pieces of herself. Her name is scrawled on the board at the top hand corner as the president of the club, her lab coat he's seen her show him once hangs over a chair by the empty desk in the middle of the room, her pencil case sits forgotten next to a stack of papers. His mouth twists upward at the frog-patterned pouch—he'd gotten that for her last year.

"Oh—" a voice mumbles in surprise behind him.

Tsukishima turns to see a girl, younger than him for sure, as she blushes a deep red and shyly bows to him in greeting. He shuffles aside so he doesn't block the entryway for her.

"T-Tsukishima-senpai," she greets upon recognizing him.

He cocks an eyebrow. "You know who I am?"

"Of course. Everyone knows who the Prez's boyfriend is." And then she swiftly ducks her head as though she'd just remembered the science club's president . . . is the resident asshole. "I-I'm assuming you're looking for her?"

Tsukishima nods, stuffing a hand inside of the pocket of his trousers to fiddle with the button he'd pulled out of his gakuran earlier. She'd playfully asked it from him a few days ago in a teasing, unserious manner—he'd scoffed and told her there was no way he'd do something as silly as a high school tradition. He'd said it was stupid and didn't even make any sense when they were already dating.

"I'm not sure, I just heard rumors of where she went, but I don't want to tell you the wrong thing so, again, this is just what people were saying—"

"Where is she?" Tsukishima interrupts her rambling, suspicion wearing down on him at the way this first year was dancing around her answer.

The girl lets out a defeated puff of breath, face contorting to a wince as she says, "I heard she went to the rooftop with Nishida-senpai."

He tenses, shoulders stiffening and turning rigid at the sound of the boy's name. Tsukishima doesn't do well with jealousy, in fact, he's tried to avoid the feeling each time he sees her talking to another boy in class or in the hallways by simply looking the other way. He knows she doesn't have eyes for anyone else but him—she told him so one day when he'd walked with her to their lockers and a confession note slipped out of hers.

Tsukishima gives the first year girl a brisk nod before walking away, heading straight to the stairwell that leads to the rooftop. He makes it to the final staircase, hesitating once his palm is pressed flat against the metal door One push away from her, and yet . . . a small part of Tsukishima becomes unreasonably afraid of what he might walk into. She's never been disloyal or dishonest to him—not once. Yet he sees the way some boys look at her when she's not looking; intrigued by the way she's impassive to everyone else except to her own boyfriend.

"Nishida-kun, why'd you take me all the way up here?"

Tsukishima can hear her voice, something in his chest stuttering. He can hear the baritone response of the captain of the soccer club, yet its muffled through the door—Tsukishima pushes it open as silently as he could without alerting any of them. And then he peeks through the cracks.

They're standing by the tall ledge, facing one another—she has her arms crossed as the wind blows on her hair gently, cinematically; his fingers are fiddling with the second button of his gakuran with a slightly embarrassed smile on his face. And that sends Tsukishima's stupid, stupid heart lurching uncomfortably inside of his ribcage.

"—this to you," he catches the last bit of what Nishida is saying, "and I know you're dating Tsukishima, but I just wanted to take a shot. He's not good for you." Nishida says her name with a gentle sort of affection—a way that Tsukishima rarely does. "He's an asshole and doesn't treat you right. He doesn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated." He extends a hand to her, palm open to reveal the button. "Let me show you what you're missing out. Give me a chance to be your boyfriend."

Tsukishima has half a mind to barge in and laugh mockingly at his face. To jeer at him for even suggesting such ludicrous idea to his girlfriend. But then he watches as she turns her head away from the soccer club captain, ignoring the button offered up to her like a gift, and sighs softly.

The wind carries her voice when she says, "Nishida-kun . . . , you don't know Kei like that. He's not—he isn't the rude boy everyone thinks he is. He's thoughtful and smart and, at the end of the day, he cares about me a lot."

Nishida curls his fingers dejectedly around his button and shoves it inside his pocket. "I heard he never picks you up from cram school on time," he tries, grasping at the little bits of information that might sway her. "He's always late."

Tsukishima's hand that's pressed flushed against the door tightens to a fist, knuckles burning white. He makes to enter, to barge in like he's here to save the day and intimidate Nishida away—to prove to her that he can show up when it matters.

She doesn't turn to Nishida when she replies, Tsukishima doesn't see the tears stinging her eyes nor the tautness of her mouth. "It's all right if he's late," she says in a light, airy voice that's meant to be casual, "I don't mind it all too much. He still shows up, and that's all that matters to me."

He leaves quietly before either of them notice him, mind running a hundred kilometers per hour with the words she'd just said as he makes his way down the stairs. He wonders if there's any hidden subtext to her response, hoping there isn't. His fingers dig through his pockets, searching for that small button he'd meant to give her—it burns when his hand encloses around it.

He wishes he was never late to pick her up from her after-school activities.

But fate would have it—Tsukishima shows up late to their date a week later. He'd planned everything from picking her up from her house to going to the movies together and maybe the arcade next door since he knew she liked claw machines, to grabbing a bite to eat from the ramen stall on the way back, and then dropping her off at her house with a kiss goodnight.

He's panting when he makes it to her front door, hands bracing on his knees as he catches his breath. "Practice ran later than usual," he gives as an explanation, gulping greedy breaths of air.

"Kei," she starts.

"I was supposed to be here on time, I'll make it up to you—"

"Kei."

Tsukishima blinks, then stands straight to his full height, head ducked the slightest bit so he can keep his eyes meeting hers. He realizes she's in a hoodie and shorts—she's not dressed to go out on a date. There's not even a hint of makeup on her face (not that she ever needed it, in his opinion, but he knew she liked to put on some mascara and a bit of gloss on her lips that tasted like strawberries).

She's looking at him, but her eyes dart around his face like she can't settle on his golden gaze fully. He blinks. Her face is splotchy, the tip of her nose red, and her eyes puffy. "Kei," she says again, and Tsukishima wonders if this is what it's like to feel heartbreak over something so beautiful.

He quietly says her name, tongue curling over each perfect syllable. He's never stopped to ponder about how her name sounds, the rise and fall of each intonation or even the way it sends a comforting sort of ping in his heart every time he says it. Her eyebrows draw together at the sound of his voice, silver-lined eyes finally meeting his as she hesitates on her next words.

So he says her name again, because it's the only thing he can grasp onto right now. The only reality he can fathom.

"Kei, I need to tell you something," she says, gently and kindly—a manner he promised himself he'd be more of to her. She doesn't invite him inside, choosing to step out of the threshold instead and closing the door behind her.

Tsukishima swallows hard, his throat suddenly rough as he wills himself to stay calm. "What's wrong?" he asks. Suddenly, he's unsure if he should take her hand in his—it was always something he found second nature to him, yet the moment didn't feel right. Like he'd lost all privileges to hold her hand.

She inhales deeply, like she's bracing herself before exhaling the words, "I'm moving to Tokyo. I got accepted to Todai, and I think I wanna go there. No—" she shakes her head a little firmly, "—I do wanna go there."

His stomach clenches painfully. He got accepted to a local university here in Miyagi, and he knows she did too. But she was always meant for something more, for something bigger, so this didn't really come as a surprise for him that the University of Tokyo had accepted her application. But it still hurt like a bitch, nonetheless, to know they'd have to resort to long distance.

"That—That's great," he tells her, face softening as he offers her a smile. "You'll do amazing there, I know you will. I don't know how often I can go see you, but I'll try to come visit you every Saturday or every other Saturday if—" he stops talking.

Then his hands are cupping her face, long fingers warm on her quivering cheeks as he brushes his thumbs over them.

"Why are you crying?"

She sways forward, burying her face into his chest as she sobs. She doesnt do anything but grip the ends of his shirt as she cries—and he knows what she's about to say before she even does. So he lets her ruin his shirt, one arm curled lightly around her waist to hold her against him with his other hand gently stroking the length of her hair. His throat grows thick, making it near impossible to even swallow, but Tsukishima steadies his breathing. He can't break down—not in front of her, not like this.

When she finally stops crying, she pulls away just to hold him at arm's length. She meets his eyes again, and despite the fact that snot runs down her nose—he's never found her more beautiful than at this moment. A part of him wonders if it's because he knows what's about to happen, but the better half of him knows it's not true—that he's always found her beautiful since the day he first saw her sitting by the window, sunlight in her hair as she bopped her head to silence.

"I think we should break up," she says. It was so soft, he nearly misses it were it not for the fact he watches her lips move, mouthing the words.

He saw it coming, he truly did, but his stomach still lurches into his throat. "Why?" he whispers, hand still cradling the back of her head and the other loosely on her waist.

The smile she gives him breaks his heart in a way he didn't think was possible. "You know why, Kei."

"But I love you," he argues.

Her lip quivers, but she reaches up to thread her fingers through the short strands of his blond hair. "I know you do," she says patiently. "But I—I can't always sit around waiting for you each time. If we can barely match our schedules while living only twenty minutes apart . . . how are we going to make it work when I move all the way to Tokyo?" She shakes her head. "I can't—I can't live like this anymore. I need to put all my focus on school, and you do too. Besides, you're going to be busier with practice—I don't want to stop you from that."

She moves her hand away from his hair, but he reaches up to grab it almost desperately. "I'll do better," he blurts out before his mind could register his words, like his body knew what it wanted before he could even process it. "I'll keep better track of time, I won't be late again. I'll do better," he's saying repeatedly, "I'll be a better boyfriend. Just—Just don't . . . " The words are hard to say, piling on his tongue and weighing down on it until it starts to shove into his throat. He presses her hand against his cheek, feeling the coldness in her fingers on his skin. "Don't break up with me. I'm sorry."

She catches her breath, eyes widening at the last two words—like she couldn't quite believe they'd come out of him. He supposes that's his fault, holding too much pride to offer an apology when he should've done so all this time. She takes a step forward, hands sliding to his shirt as they curl around his collar.

The kiss she gives him feels like a goodbye. Her lips are soft and warm, and Tsukishima does everything he can to imprint it into memory, laying it into the grooves of his mind so he can still remember her exactly how this moment is. She's crying again, their kiss turning salty as she breaks away from him.

But his arm is around her before she could step back, drawing her to him one more time. One last time. He crushes his mouth to hers, holding her face as he selfishly takes one last kiss from her, because he can already taste the regret crawling up his throat. His forehead rests on hers, noses brushing as he uses his thumb to wipe off the stray tears that wouldn't stop slipping down her cheeks.

"You're gonna be just fine in Tokyo," he tells her, feeling her body shake under his touch. "You're gonna ace all your tests and you'll graduate with flying colors. They're lucky to have you join them." And when she buries her face in his chest again, his arms wound around her tightly. "Don't cry," he says, lips finding purchase on the crown of her head. "Please don't cry."

But Tsukishima is a hypocrite, because his eyes turn watery as he holds her for the very last time.

"Don't cry."

 

---

 

Tsukishima Kei likes strawberry shortcakes.

He rolls his neck with a groan, feeling the crick in it that he desperately tries to relieve. He hisses when he feels it again, already knowing he's gonna have a crappy shift at his part-time job later if this turns into a stiff neck when he wakes for class. It's nearly three in the morning, he's barely halfway through his stupid paper that was due in class. He can't wait to give his end-of-year review on the art studies professor who doesn't let the students turn in their papers at midnight like any other normal college professor.

"Fuck my fucking life," he mumbles to himself, keeping in mind that his roommate is dead asleep. He stares at the screen of his laptop, eyes flickering to the word count at the bottom—he's two thousand words away from meeting the minimum requirement. He can do this.

But first—

—it was time for a snack break.

Tsukishima pushes himself off his office chair, wondering if he's gotten too old from the way his lower back whines in pain. He silently pads to the tiny kitchenette his dorm provides, sliding his glasses up his head as he rubs a fist against his eyes. There's a throbbing behind his left eye, a sign that he really, really needed some sleep. He yanks open the fridge with a little more effort, the rickety thing squeaking as he does so, and studies the assortment of food and beverages. He pushes his roommate's cases of beer around, and his eyes spot it.

The very last strawberry shortcake he'd gotten from the konbini two days ago.

He snatches it with a renewed vigor, a smile already working its way onto his lips as he sees the expiration date isn't until tomorrow. He takes a fork from the drawer and helps himself to it—every last bit of strawberry and whipped cream. When he finishes, he tosses the empty container out and makes a mental note to drop by the store tonight after his shift ends.

He returns to his desk, stomach a little satisfied now with the snack, and he sighs as he creaks open his laptop once more for the final leg of the work. His fingers pause, poised above his keyboard before he could type in the password that unlocks his Macbook. The small icon shows the photo he used for his profile picture—it was one that she'd taken four years ago when they first started dating. She was smiling without teeth, but her eyes sparkled with joy because he was standing behind her with his chin on the top of her head.

"Kei, you look pretty cute here," she cooed that day, quick to forward him the photo.

He huffed, pretending he didn't secretly adore it the same way she did. If not—more. He'd gone home that day after walking her back to her house, and he stared at that photo for a good amount of time before falling asleep with the stupidest smile on his face.

Tsukishima shakes the memory out of his head and types the password into his laptop, revealing the Word document he'd last been using. He sighs wearily and gets back to work. He thinks about how he really should change his profile picture.

"Thanks for staying to help close up the shop, Tsukishima-kun," says his coworker, Fujimoto Himari, face contorting to one of extreme gratitude like he'd just saved the world or something.

Tsukishima works part-time in the local bookstore near his university just for a bit of spare change. He's saving up to move to a proper apartment hopefully towards the end of his third year (which would be next year), and he's been on track so far with his plans. If anything—staying behind an extra two hours gave him the overtime pay he could use to help boost his savings by a little.

He shrugs as he holds the door open for her to walk out first. "It's no problem, Fujimoto-san," he says politely as she waits while he locks the front door.

"I told you to just call me Himari," she tells him with a pointed look on her face.

But he shakes his head, still polite as he says, "I don't want to overstep any professional boundaries, Fujimoto-san."

And before they part ways, she studies the look on his face—he wonders if she can see the secrets that lie behind his eyes. "You don't want to or you can't?"

He doesn't answer.

She grins and raises a hand for a wave. "Whoever she is—she's a lucky girl to have someone like you head over heels for her. See you on Wednesday, Tsukishima-kun."

His face burns at the embarrassment of her words, at the fact that he was too much of a loser to admit he's actually single, but that he still isn't over his ex-girlfriend of two years. "Have a good evening, Fujimoto-san," he murmurs instead with a bow.

He should be over her. He needs to be over her. He tells himself this over and over, every single day for the last two years. He tells himself this in the morning when he wakes up, checking his phone with the underlying hope that she might reach out to him asking how he is. He tells himself this when he sits through lectures, mind wandering aimlessly as he thinks back to high school and how easy it was for him to watch her scribble nonsensical words on the margins of her notebook as the teacher drones up front (she used to sit one row in front of him and one seat to the right). He tells himself this when he stretches before volleyball practice, gazing towards the corner of the stands near the exit doors—the seat she'd always occupy in the gym back in Karasuno when she'd wait for him to finish up and walk home with her. He tells himself this when he's at work and a uni student his age checks out some chemistry book he knows she'd eagerly immerse herself in if she got her hands on it. And he tells himself this every night he tosses and turns in bed, staring at his walls and ceilings as he wonders how she's doing all the way in Tokyo and if she's found a new boyfriend made any friends.

Tsukishima walks the same route he's taken multiple times to the konbini that's between the bookstore and his dorm when his phone buzzes in his back pocket. He slips it out, taking a glimpse at the lockscreen where he sees the group chat he was added in against his will blow up incessantly. Bokuto is pestering the chat on when their next get-together is, saying he has plenty of stories about the professional team he's joined and about his teammates. Akaashi shuts him down with a polite "Some of us have real work to do, Bokuto-san." which makes Tsukishima grin faintly at the boy's wryness. Kuroo just sends a spam of stupid emojis that make him roll his eyes—the black-haired boy was always down to hang out or have drinks, saying that he could do with an evening away from his never-ending workload of being a grad student.

He leaves the messages on seen. Nobody's surprised by this.

Pocketing his phone back into his pants, Tsukishima enters the store as he makes his usual rounds around the place with skilled fingers that grab hold of several packs of ramen and a bag of chips he's indulging himself in this weekend. He makes his final stop at the dessert section, eyes instantly falling on where the strawberry shortcakes are.

He scowls. There's only one left.

Whatever, he can come back tomorrow after practice since he's not schedule to work anyways.

Tsukishima advances forward to the dessert, the packs of ramen and chips all one wrong move away from falling out of his hand as he reaches over with his free one to grab the shortcake.

Someone's fingers collide into his in the same hasty fashion he does.

And Tsukishima swears he feels fucking electric currents zap him into life.

He retracts his hand in an instant, almost like he'd just been singed by fire—and he whips his head to whoever had just attempted to take the very last thread of his sanity (read: strawberry shortcake).

All the breath rushes out of him as he says her name—the syllables still curling around his tongue like it's poetry. She's just as taken aback as he is, eyes widening to resemble that of a doe's as she tilts her head back to meet his gaze. She looks exactly the same as the last time he saw her sans the tears and snot—and yet . . . she looked so different. Like there were pockets of time hidden behind the two years they'd spent apart without any form of contact. Her face is thinner, more angular than he's seen before, and her hair is longer too. She's wearing it up in a loose bun, practically spilling out of its clip—

Fuck.

That's the claw clip he'd gotten her in their third year—the very last present he's ever gotten her.

"Kei," she says in surprise, and his stupid heart jumps in his chest at the sound of his name. She stands a little straighter, subconsciously tugging on the button up she's wearing. He briefly glances down to see she's wearing something formal—a white button up tucked into a pair of pinstriped pants. She's even wearing heels now.

His mouth slacks open the slightest bit as he does everything in his power to speak in a steady voice, "What're you doing here? Are you back here in Miyagi for good?" He hates how he can hear the thinly-veiled hope in his words.

She gives him that usual twist to her lips, a soft chuckle leaving her. It goes straight to his heart. "Oh, no," she tells him with a shake of her head. "I'm only here for the rest of the weekend then I return to Tokyo. My grandfather fell yesterday and needs someone to accompany him to the hospital for tests, and my aunt can't leave my grandma alone at home either so—" she shrugs, "—here I am."

Tsukishima breathes out, "Here you are." She doesn't look away from him, and he realizes there are dark circles under her eyes. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry as he becomes hyper-aware of how ridiculous he must look with six packs of ramen and a bag of chips in one hand. "How have you been?" he finally asks, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

She brushes a stray piece of hair away from her face, and he sees the way her lips widen to a smile. "Really good, Kei," she says. "Tokyo's so different from Miyagi—everyone's always busy, always in a rush to get to Point B, but I really enjoy the thrill of city life. There's something different everyday, something exciting." There's a faraway look in her eyes. "Sometimes I find myself missing the simplicity of Miyagi . . . I miss the people, the memories. But I don't regret moving there despite it all."

His tongue feels heavy, like it's dragging through sand, when he asks, "How's school been?"

"Oh, it's tough." Another chuckle leaves her, a little weary this time, and he knows it's the main reason to the bags under her eyes. "Everyone's so competitive." She waves a hand. "But enough about me, how are you?"

Tsukishima opens his mouth—there's a hundred things he wants to say, a thousand things he wants to tell her. He wants to talk about his classes and how much he loathes his one professor who's awful at giving deadlines for papers; about his one classmate in his archaeology class who's taller than him (something he knew she'd be amused at because she thinks there's rarely anyone in Miyagi who matches his height); about the time Bokuto had gotten him shit-faced drunk on the day of what could've been their three-year anniversary; about the frogs he'd spotted one rainy night last summer and how he thinks she would've found them adorable; about the ramen stall they used to go to during their spontaneous date nights and how the owner passed the shop to her son to take over, and that he gives Tsukishima an extra order of gyoza if he comes by to eat; about their old classmates and how he sometimes eats lunch with Yamaguchi on campus and that Hinata and Kageyama both had gone pro; and that he still fucking misses her after all this time and he's not once gotten over—not one bit at all.

He closes his mouth, resorting to a small smile instead. The words grow heavy on his tongue, yet he bites it down as he says instead, "I'm doing all right. Yamaguchi misses you," he throws in as an afterthought.

She pauses, then smiles back. "Tell Yamaguchi I miss him too."

They weren't talking about Yamaguchi.

There's a pinging notification that rings in the air, and she blinks, breaking eye contact with him as she takes her phone to read the message. "I have to go, but—" she hesitates, "—it was really nice to see you again, Kei." And then she gives him that soft smile of hers that he's only ever seen directed to him—and it fucking breaks him apart inside.

"Wait," he says, taking the last strawberry shortcake and pressing the container into her hand. He ignores the shudder that runs down his spine when their fingers brush. "You should take it."

"Oh, I couldn't, this is your favorite—"

"It's yours too," he swiftly interrupts, and she's stunned at the fact he remembers this. How could he forget when Yamaguchi had practically reprimanded him that day and called him an ass of a boyfriend? "Take it," he says again. "You're gonna need some sugar in you after taking care of your grandpa."

She sighs defeatedly, knowing there's no arguing with him. They walk slowly to the front, the attendant ringing them up as Tsukishima's quick to pay for both of their purchases. He fights the grin from forming on his face when she lightly smacks his arm before she could even grab her wallet.

She doesn't try to say she'll get the next one, he notices.

Maybe that's why when they both exit the store with plastic bags in their hands, ready to part ways, Tsukishima's unable to stop himself from blurting out, "When can I see you again?" His heart is pounding, he can feel his chest constricting around the stupid organ as he remembers breathing is an essential living requirement.

Her phone goes off again with another text message—the third one in the last five minutes. It makes Tsukishima's eye twitch.

But then she's struggling to find the words to answer him, lips mouthing a response that she's unsure how to give. And with every ticking second that wrenches his gut, Tsukishima realizes it's like déjà vu. He knows what she's going to say before she even does.

"Kei," she starts, and he already feels the stab to his stomach at the tone of her voice. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not—" she exhales shakily, eyes darting away from his as she tries to look at anything but him, "I can't start something I know I'm not ready for yet."

Perhaps it would've been better if she curses him out and says she'd rather drink bleach than see him again. He reckons it would hurt less than her still being nice and kind to him after all this time.

He wants to say he's better now—that time has changed him and turned him into a more considerate man. That he's not the same idiotic boy who took his girlfriend for granted. He wanted to take her in his arms and sweep her off her feet, to show her everything he wished he did the first time—to give her the world she never received from him.

But her phone goes off again, and he knows he has to let her go again.

She has a life now—she's in the middle of college, and he's certain she has everything she could ever want and need. He can't be selfish again, not when he's thoroughly convinced he's a changed man.

So he smiles and gives her a nod. "I understand," he says, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "Take care when you get back to Tokyo, and I hope your grandfather gets well soon." And before he could let her walk away just yet, he adds, "If you need anything—anything at all—I'm only a phone call away. That's if you haven't deleted my number or blocked me yet." His eyebrows furrow as he realizes she could've done just that.

A chuckle echoed in the night, and his heart skips a beat when she sees a smile on her face. "Kei, you're dumb—why would I block you?"

He's trying not to grin despite the cinder block in his stomach as he already starts to wonder if they'll ever see each other by fate again just like tonight. "Walk home safe."

"I will," she promises and shakes the plastic bag in her hand. "Thanks for the strawberry shortcake."

"Anything for you." And he means it this time. Truly.

She turns just as her phone rings, and Tsukishima makes to walk away to the opposite direction when he hears her pick up the call. "Hey, Tetsu—yeah, sorry for the hold up. I'll be home in ten, I'll call you back by then."

Tsukishima wishes he didn't like strawberry shortcake as much as he does, because maybe he wouldn't have to see the love of his life again and maybe he wouldn't have to hear her talk in the phone so sweetly to Kuroo Tetsurou.

 

---

 

Tsukishima Kei likes dinosaurs.

He remembers the first time he made her watch the entire Jurassic Park trilogy with him, blocking out his entire Saturday during the spring break of their second year dating. She knocks on his front door, and Tsukishima practically barrels past his older brother Akiteru from answering the door. The smile on his face was barely contained—the biggest she's probably seen on him when he breathlessly tells her he hopes she cancelled all her plans for the day and drags her to the living room.

The entire series came up to five hours and forty-four minutes—but considering bathroom breaks or maybe dinner in-between films or even any circumstance where Tsushima might have to explain something to her, he'd already expected this movie marathon to last the entire day.

"Enjoy your date, nerds," Akiteru cooed at them, ruffling Tsukishima's hair in typical older brother fashion as the younger boy swatted his arm away with a glare.

She's laughing, the smile never faltering as she said, "You're welcome to watch with us, nii-chan."

Tsukishima directed his glare at her for how sweetly she talks to his brother. Akiteru simply snorted, jutting a thumb to his chest and proclaiming he has a reputation to uphold as 'Kei's cooler, more awesome older brother' and that he 'can't be caught dead watching one of Kei's nerdy dinosaur movies'.

The pillow Tsukishima sent hurling into Akiteru's face was enough to prove his point on how much he would like him to leave. He waited until the older boy is gone before Tsukishima crossed his arms petulantly and pursed his lips into a pouty frown. "Since when do you call him nii-chan?" he grumbled.

"Are you jealous, Kei?" she teased, leaning over to pinch his cheek.

He huffed, moving away as he shuffled closer to the arm of the couch. "Why should I be jealous?"

She hummed, making to get out of the couch. "Maybe I should go see what Akiteru-nii is up to—"

She yelped at the sudden tug of Tsukishima's fingers around her wrist as he pulled her back onto the couch. The space between them vanished like a flame extinguishing, and suddenly he can feel every rise and fall of her breath as she's pressed to his side. She inhaled sharply, not expecting the close proximity of him as his eyes flickered down to the way her lips part. He wanted to kiss her—to taste the strawberry on her lip gloss that she has on, but his mother was right there in the kitchen, and his stupid brother was down the hallway in his bedroom, door wide open.

He kept an arm around her instead, holding her flushed to his side as he played the first movie. He's grinning when it started—not because it's his favorite film, but because he can feel her stare on him as a pretty pink spreads across her cheeks.

He talked to her about the interesting facts he's learned about each dinosaur that pops up on the screen, keeping his voice low and hushed so only they can hear. She has her head on his shoulder, under the warmth of his arm as she listened to the growing excitement in his words. He didn't know it then, but she'd already seen all three Jurassic Park movies. She rewatched them all anyways without a single word of complaint, and let him talk to her about the different dinosaurs like it's her very first time seeing them.

Tsukishima isn't all too fond of the newer ones—Jurassic World. So instead of going to see the film that just came out in the theaters, he opts for visiting the fossil museum that just opened in Tokyo. His coworker Himari had helped him get tickets on the opening day since her brother works there—Tsukishima promised to help her close the bookstore for the next three Fridays in exchange. With a backpack full of clothes for the weekend, he makes the trip to the city by bullet train.

Tsukishima doesn't know anyone who lives in Tokyo that he's close enough to ask to bunk with for the weekend—except maybe Akaashi. He considers asking the college student if he could stay over in his place, but Tsukishima remembers him complaining in the group chat about how cramped his dorm room is a few months ago. Kageyama Tobio was out of the question—Tsukishima would rather die than ask the King of the Court for a favor. So he settles with the cheapest hotel he could find that's within distance to the bullet train back home and other public transportation to get him around the city.

It's still too early in the day to check in, so he decides to grab something to eat before heading straight to the fossil museum. There's a decently long line when he steps in, but he doesn't mind the wait. And when they scan his ticket and welcome him inside with a pleasant smile and greeting, Tsukishima feels like he's ten years old again.

He spends a hefty amount of time wandering around from exhibit to exhibit, marveling over the details of each one and taking extra care to read the notes of every artifact. He feels giddy inside, not even bothering to check his phone for messages or his watch on how much time he's already spent in here.

He enters the Late Cretaceous period when he stops dead on his tracks.

There's a girl standing in front of the ginormous triceratops display, eyes wide as she clutches her purse strap that slings across her chest. She's drinking in the shape of it, bones and all, and she glances down at the lengthy description to peruse it.

Tsukishima's heart leaps out of his chest as he takes a step forward, her name on the tip of his tongue when a different voice calls it—an all-too-familiar, masculine one.

Kuroo Tetsurou swaggers in towards her, long-legged strides and ridiculously messy, bed-head of a hair that can never be tamed. He's wearing a button up shirt tucked into a pair of trousers (something Tsukishima notices is a combination not unlike the one she'd worn several months ago when they'd bumped into each other in the konbini). The old Nekoma captain has a pair of glasses adorning his face along with an ID badge clipped to his hip—it's too far away for Tsukishima to make out what it says.

"Tetsu!" she exclaims with a wave, and it sends Tsukishima spiraling inside—fuck, fuck, fuck.

He watches with bile in his mouth as Kuroo throws an arm around her, purposely resting his full weight on her as she shoves him off her with a laugh. Something rotten simmers in Tsukishima's stomach as he wonders when she'd started to be all . . . giggly around other boys. She'd always been indifferent around them in high school—aloof, even.

"Sorry I'm late," Kuroo tells her, "I was in a meeting with my advisor. He thinks I can't handle working on two theses at once."

She makes a face at him, reaching up to use two fingers to lightly push against his forehead. "If you ditch me halfway through the semester, I'm burying you alive."

Kuroo laughs, the sound deep and rumbling from his chest.

Tsukishima tears his eyes away—something about this image feels too intimate for him. He doesn't even know how she and Kuroo knew each other nor how long they've been friends. She was always too busy with the science club back in high school, so she's never actually met any of the other volleyball players outside of Karasuno. The only away game she's managed to sneak out of her club to watch was the one against Shiratorizawa.

He makes to turn around, to leave the area and find a different period he can check out instead when he accidentally makes eye contact with Kuroo who looks his way.

"Oh—hey, Four Eyes!" he calls out, the bass of his voice echoing in the room as Tsukishima tries not to physically flinch. Kuroo's grinning in that smirky way of his as though he knows something nobody else does, cat-like eyes glinting as he waves him over. "What're you doing in the city? Come, come!"

Tsukishima instantly flicks his gaze over to her, and she looks as equally taken aback as he is at the sight of him. He braves one step to them, and another—he keeps going until he stands directly before them. Kuroo's grown a little taller since the last time he's seen him, but he's still not quite as tall as Tsukishima who stands at 195cm.

For a tense second, nobody says anything, and then Tsukishima looks to Kuroo and mutters, "I told you to quit with the 'Four Eyes' already, you literally wear glasses too."

The grin on Kuroo's face broadens before he's reaching over to throw his arms around Tsukishima, the two old friends hugging briefly. "Still can't take a joke, I see," Kuroo chortles, punching him in the arm. "How've you been, Tsukki? Haven't seen you since Bo's last hangout over a year ago."

"I'm all right, and you?"

Kuroo says the same, throwing in how he'd just seen Akaashi not too long ago—busy with papers since he's on his last year of university. "Chibi-chan over here went to Karasuno as well," Kuroo says, placing a hand on her shoulder (Tsukishima wants to rip it off). "Maybe you two recognize each other?" Kuroo tells him her name, introducing her like she was his girlfriend; like Tsukishima hasn't said her name like a prayer almost every night because she was the only real thing in his life that he'd ever wanted.

Tsukishima doesn't say anything when their eyes meet, and she coughs awkwardly, jabbing an elbow into Kuroo's side. "Tetsu," she starts, a vague gesture waving at Tsukishima, "Kei and I go a long way back."

Kuroo blinks.

His eyes shift from her to Tsukishima and back to her. And then they widen marginally as understanding seeps into his features. "Oh," he says loudly, and then another glance to Tsukishima. "Oh."

Her face is impossibly red, enough to make Tsukishima want to cover her with his jacket just so nobody else could see the way she's blushing. She throws Kuroo a glare as she grumbles under her breath, "You don't have to say it like that."

But the rooster-haired boy smiles impishly as he cocks his head at Tsukishima. "Tsukki, why didn't you say this whole time your ex-girlfriend was her?" It's like he's made of stone from how he doesn't even waver with the way she was repeatedly digging her elbow into his gut. "After all the times you'd get sloshed with me, 'Kaashi, and Bo because of how much you missed her—"

"Okay, that's enough from you," she cuts in with a shrill voice, inserting herself between them as she wraps her fingers around Tsukishima's wrist. "Kei, walk with me." She shoots another filthy, nasty glare at the snickering boy.

Tsukishima still keeps his mouth shut, letting her drag him around the corner as they re-enter the Early Cretaceous period. He feels the color high on his cheeks as his eyes travel down to the hand she still has daintily wrapped around his wrist, slightly angled where her fingers curled inside his palm. Holy fucking shit—he was practically holding hands with her.

"I'm sorry about that jackass," she says with a sigh, taking her hand from his as he frowns at the absence of her warmth. "He's just a Class A Provocateur."

Despite himself, he rolls his eyes as his lips twitch upwards. "Yeah, I know."

"Ah, right—it sounds like you two know each other well." She snorts out a chuckle. "How have the three of us never been in the same room before?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he says mildly. The question burns in the back of his throat, and when he opens his mouth again, it tumbles out. "How do you and Kuroo know each other?" There's a part of him that's terrified to know the answer to that. And because he's trying to dig himself an even deeper grave to die a tragic death in, he asks, "Are you two dating?"

"Dating?" she repeats incredulously and bursts out a scoffing sort of laugh that Tsukishima finds instant relief in. "Never in my life would I date Tetsurou." She's still laughing to herself and shaking her head. "Tetsurou," she says again while pretending to brush off a tear from the corner of her eye. He wonders if she says his name again, would Kuroo pop up like Bloody Mary.

He cocks a brow. "But you two seem . . . close."

"Oh, he's the friend I told you about back in high school. The one who lives in Tokyo? He's also in the science club, that's how we know each other—we met through a competition once."

Understanding knocks him in the head as Tsukishima does remember her talking about an unnamed Tokyo friend. "So you're not dating?" he asks, and he really wants to go die in the corner now because even if they are dating, it was none of his business.

Her eyes are glittering with something he can't quite put a finger on. But her mouth quirks upward like she's amused at the question. He thinks she's not going to answer—merely content with just staring at him until he breaks and starts to squirm—but then she says, "No, Kei, we're not dating."

The relief that spreads throughout his body is shameful.

He schools his features into neutrality as he pretends to be nonchalant about all this. "Oh," he says with an air of faux indifference. He throws in a shrug. "Okay."

He's a wreck inside—brain spinning at a hundred kilometers per hour at the fact that he'd been mistaken this whole time. That she and Kuroo were not dating.

She's positively amused by now as she slightly narrows her eyes at him, rocking forward by the heels of her feet to take a closer look at his face. "We've been working on the same research paper since my freshman year at Todai—he's two years my senior, but we were required to partner with an older student since they had more experience. And because they could use the thesis as a stepping stone for if they choose to go to grad school, which Tetsu did end up doing, he didn't mind working with me."

"So you've been partners this whole time?"

She nods. "About to be three years now."

A silence follows, and Tsukishima has to redirect his gaze to something else because she was right in front of him again and all he can think about is how she's still using the same claw clip he'd gotten for her years ago and how she smells like nostalgia and long-lost memories.

He glances at her to find her already looking at him.

Like a pair of lovestruck teenagers, they turn away in unison—both sporting red patches on their cheeks with shy smiles they were desperately trying to hide from the other.

"Oi, Tsukki," a voice calls out from behind, breaking whatever spell he's under as he swivels around to Kuroo who strides over to them. "I just texted Akaashi—he says he didn't know you were in the city. Where ya staying at?"

He mumbles, "I booked a hotel not far from here."

Tsukishima misses the look she sends Kuroo who huffs at him, "Don't be stupid. You can stay with me." A pause before he flashes her a sly grin. "Or would you prefer to shack it up with Chibi-chan instead?"

He thinks he's choking on his spit, his ears burning hot as he swiftly blurts out, "I can stay with you if it's not too much trouble." He avoids looking her way, trying not to think about the last time they'd been in his house alone. The place feels stuffy as he tugs on the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. She's burying her face in her hands while Kuroo's grinning moronically while typing something on his phone.

"Perfect, all settled," Kuroo proclaims before sliding his phone in his perfectly pressed trousers. "'Kaashi says Bo's in town—we're all going drinking tonight."

She sends him an unimpressed look. "We have our paper to present tomorrow morning, Tetsurou."

He raises his hand. "Woah, easy, what's with the name calling?" He juts a thumb in her direction while leaning over to stage-whisper to Tsukishima, "Your ex-girlfriend's a meanie, by the way. Blunt to everybody and gives me shit all the damn time."

Tsukishima finds their dynamics . . . intriguing, but he doesn't seem to mind it all too much. In a way, they remind him of Hinata and Kageyama or even Bokuto and Akaashi. "She's nice to me," he muses, enjoying the deadpan gaze Kuroo sends him.

"Of course she's nice to you," he grumbles under his breath with a roll of his eyes, "it's because she loves you."

"What?"

"What?"

Tsukishima blinks.

Kuroo blinks.

She looks mortified as she hiccups. "I-I'm going back to the triceratops," she announces, already speed-walking away from the duo and returning to the fossil display she was just looking at earlier.

Neither of the middle blockers say a word.

"What did you just say?" Tsukishima says again.

But Kuroo hums with feigned innocence. "I didn't say anything, what did you say?"

An irked scowl makes its way onto Tsukishima's face. "Kuroo, you're fucking annoying as always."

The black-haired boy merely grins nefariously. "I miss you too, Glasses."

"You should really look in the mirror."

Kuroo just puts his hands on his hips. "Come now, Tsukki—is that any way to speak to your senpai?"

"I'd rather break my other pinkie than call you that foul name."

"Wow, you really are still the same Tsukishima I know."

Tsukishima doesn't say anything. He likes to think he's changed for the better, but with Kuroo being a little shit . . . it's testing his patience.

They walk back to where she'd run off to as Kuroo mumbles, "She's been begging me to come with her to this museum, you know. Wouldn't shut up about it. She's all—" he locks his hands together and comically bats his lashes in an exaggerated version of her, "—Tetsu, please! We have to go to the new museum that's opening!" He drops his hand and playfully rolls his eyes. "Obsessed with some dinosaur called tra—trep—trapezoid or some shit."

Tsukishima's steps falter when they round the corner and he sees her taking pictures of the same fossil she'd been wondrously staring at earlier. His lips curl up as he corrects his friend, "It's called a triceratops. That's her favorite."

And as Tsukishima grins like a fool at the way she enthusiastically takes photos of the triceratops at all sorts of angles, Kuroo sighs deeply next to him. He shakes his head and drawls, "What a bunch of fucking nerds. You two truly are a match made in heaven."

Tsukishima doesn't even take his eyes away from her as he half-heartedly flips Kuroo off.

 

---

 

Tsukishima Kei doesn't like the rain.

After the three of them spend another hour in the fossil museum, she suggests a restaurant that's not far from their university. She says it would also make a good drinking place if Bokuto and Akaashi would like to join them, so Kuroo sends the address to the group chat where the other two agree to meet them at. They get to the restaurant, luckily snagging a seat for five right before the dinner rush hour as Kuroo takes the one at the head of the table. She takes a seat at one side, and Tsukishima attempts to sit in the one across her.

"Oya," Kuroo stops him with a click of his tongue. "Those are Bo's and Akaashi's seats." He jerks his head to the seat directly next to her. "Go sit there."

Tsukishima flashes him an annoyed look but complies. "They're not conjoined twins, Kuroo."

"Yeah, but Bo misses Akaashi, I'm sure."

They talk about mindless little things before the other two finally arrive, making Tsukishima sigh a little in relief because he's running out of insults to throw at Kuroo every time he makes some insinuating remark between her and Tsukishima.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto exclaims happily, throwing his arms around Kuroo who hugs him back just as fervently. The monochrome-haired boy swivels to face Tsukishima and he shouts, "Tsukki! Haven't seen you in forever! You've been ignoring the group chat." And before Tsukishima could even protest, he's pulled into a hug that has him struggling to breathe from how tight Bokuto crushed his ribs. "Still a beanpole, huh. How are you able to make those incredible blocks if you don't eat?"

Tsukishima doesn't even have time to formulate a comeback, because Akaashi is there in an instant, politely bowing at the boy. "Bokuto-san, that's not very nice. We don't call people beanpoles and imply they should eat more or less." He turns to Tsukishima. "It's nice to see you again, Tsukishima-san." And then Akaashi is ushering Bokuto to their seats, practically forcing him to sit and quit bothering Tsukishima. The blond smiles faintly at the duo—some things just never change.

"Bo, you remember my lovely kouhai, right?" Kuroo croons, gesturing to her as she does a small bow to the two boys.

"Hello, it's nice to see you again, Bokuto-san." She waves at Akaashi with a friendly smile. "Akaashi-kun." She's seen the latter a few times in the university library, until Kuroo one day waved him over to join them. But the literature student is far too busy with applying for internships at an editing company to have time to go to the library, so it had only been a three-time thing.

Bokuto beams, not surprising anyone on the table who's used to his loud, raucous personality. As much as his volume irritates Tsukishima, he can't really get upset at the boy—Bokuto only means well. He's been a great friend to Tsukishima, especially after the break up. Yes, he'd been the leading factor to the tall blond getting shit-faced drunk some time ago, but Bokuto had also been the one spamming Tsukishima with stupid memes every single day in attempts to make him feel better.

And yes, those stupid memes worked.

The server comes by to take all of their orders as Bokuto goes into a spiel about something that happened to him earlier in the day when Tsukishima's eyes fall on the purse she's holding clutched on her lap. It slips off a few times, and he watches as she tries to keep a hold of it all while nodding along to Bokuto's anecdotes. Wordlessly, he reaches over to gently take the purse from her under the table and places it on his lap where it sits far sturdier than on hers. She slides her eyes to him, wide with surprise, but he pretends he's listening to Bokuto.

He thinks she's turned away, so he risks a glance at her. She meets his eyes, and he finds it hard to look away. He can't look away—not when she's giving him that soft smile of hers he knows is specifically reserved for him. Not Kuroo, not anyone else on this table—him.

A flicker of something bright and white sharply lights up the whole restaurant from the glassed windows, then followed by the unmistakable rumble of thunder. Tsukishima's eyes cuts away from hers to peer outside since they were both seated facing the doors. Another crackle of lightning—and it begins to pour outside.

Well, this is just fucking great.

As though reading his thoughts, she laughs lightly next to him. "'S just a bit of rain, Kei," she says with what sounds like fondness to his delusional ears. "You can't possibly still dislike it after all this time."

Tsukishima makes a face, then he sniffs almost childishly as he says, "Nothing good comes out of the rain."

She's smiling and he can't look away from her. "It's funny you say that when one of the best memories I have is from being in the rain."

He doesn't get the opportunity to ask her to elaborate on it because their server returns with all of their food along with pints of beer for the table. She's pulled into conversation with Bokuto and Kuroo as Akaashi strikes up one as well with Tsukishima. He orders tonkatsu, and he's not surprised at seeing the exact same order in front of her—they've always had similar taste palettes (except for her fucking peach allergy).

Tsukishima's responding to the boy's question, cutting his pork cutlet into tiny, bite-sized pieces. He spares a glance to her—she hasn't touched her food yet, choosing to clink her glass of beer with Kuroo and Bokuto who happily toasts to the future success of the two's research paper. Akaashi picks up his glass to join them, and so does Tsukishima.

He resumes his cutting without taking a sip of his beer, and then he sets his knife down and swaps his plate with hers. The table hushes down, the only sound being Bokuto's words ending in a questioning sort of tone. Tsukishima isn't even paying them any attention, taking her plate of untouched tonkatsu and choosing to bite the meat off without slicing them to pieces. Still oblivious to the way the other three boys are staring, he throws her another look to see that she's smiling as she picks up her chopsticks.

"You picked a good restaurant," he tells her, nodding appreciatively as he takes another bite.

She meets his gaze, opening her mouth to respond as he instinctively leans down so he can hear her better amidst the noisy restaurant. "Thanks, Kei," she hums, shuffling closer to meet him halfway. "You didn't have to do that." She refers to the pork he'd cut up for her.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, go on and eat."

Akaashi, who sits directly across of Tsukishima, blinks as he watches the blond sneak furtive glances at the girl. And he watches as she openly looks Tsukishima's way with a smile that Akaashi has never seen on her before. He sticks his upper body behind Bokuto as Kuroo leans forward in unison. "Are they dating or something?"

Kuroo snorts. "Tsukki wishes."

The monochrome-haired boy whose back serves as Akaashi's and Kuroo's hiding spot whips his head around to whisper furiously, "Why didn't anyone tell me she was Tsukki's girl? This whole time, and I didn't even know!"

Kuroo hisses back, "I didn't know either. I just found out today."

"Well, whatever the relationship is they have right now," Akaashi starts, "it's up to us to make sure Tsukishima-san doesnt mess things up again."

The grin that slyly tugs on Kuroo's lips is concerning to the two former Fukurodani students. It's one that doesn't go past Tsukishima who narrows his eyes at the three boys in front of him as he wonders what they're up to.

An hour or two passes and the five are through with their meals, empty dishes taken away by their server as the drinking begins. Bokuto's chattering grows louder as he's constantly shushed by Akaashi whose face is flushed from the amount of alcohol he's consumed. Kuroo keeps suggesting they play dumb drinking games that Bokuto groans at every time he loses. Tsukishima's body feels warm, so unbelievably warm, because every time she bursts out laughing at whatever Bokuto says, she's leaning against him drunkenly.

He blinks lazily, cheeks hot as he watches the way she tips her head back to finish the rest of her drink. Strands of her hair falls untucked from her clip, framing her face as she impatiently brushes it away. She slams her glass down with a victorious sound as Akaashi nods at her impressed. And when Kuroo attempts to pour some more beer into her glass, Tsukishima absentmindedly covers the rim with his palm as a signal to stop giving her any more.

Her purse still rests on his lap, her arm is pressed against his, and she's getting frustrated with how many times she's had to brush her stray pieces of hair away from her face. Each time she does so, more just keeps falling out of her clip until she's cursing under her breath.

Tsukishima chuckles, low and raspy, and he murmurs to her, "C'mere." She turns so her back is to him. He gently removes her clip, her hair tumbling down her back as he realizes he's close enough to smell her shampoo—it's still the same one she uses in high school. "I told you—nothing good happens if it rains," he says grimly, gathering her hair with his hands as he twists it up and keeps it in place with the clip.

"You're so superstitious." She looks over her shoulder, eyes glossy from the three glasses of beer she's had. "Where'd you learn to do that?" her words are slightly slurred, but it's not as incomprehensible as Bokuto's.

He flicks her nose lightly. "You taught me, remember?"

She grins, wild and unrestrained, and it makes his heart skip a beat. "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." She reaches for her glass, only to find it empty as she frowns pensively.

"Here, drink this," Tsukishima says, sliding over a glass of water instead. She doesn't complain and does what he says. "The rain's not stopping," he points out, glancing out the window.

It's past seven o'clock by now, they've been here for a long time, and the rain only gets stronger by the hour. Bokuto's passed out on the table with Akaashi trying to sober up so he can try to take them both back to his tiny dorm safely. Kuroo isn't even with them anymore, he's wandering from table to table with a charisma that he uses to make friends. Tsukishima doesn't know how he does that so easily.

"I should probably go home," she says after another half-hour passes—her eyes aren't as glossy anymore, and her words don't come out slurred.

Tsukishima frowns as he gets up from his seat, shrugging on his backpack that he was carrying around all day, and then taking her purse as well. He tucks it inside of his jacket and looks her way. "I'll go hail a cab outside, don't go anywhere." He turns to Akaashi who's probably the most sober of them all. "Watch her for me, I'll be right back."

She starts to protest, "No, wait, Kei—"

Tsukishima is already out of the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind him. It's pitch black outside, the harsh cadence of the rain falling in a constant downpour that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon. He squints through the fog of his glasses, breaths coming out in clouds from how cold it had gotten. His hair sticks to his forehead, his clothes cling to him, his backpack is soaked—

"Kei!"

Tsukishima whips around. His glasses are covered in rain droplets, yet he makes out the shape of her. He could recognize her anywhere. "What are you doing out here?" he yells over the roaring rain, jogging over the puddles to where she'd tried to meet him halfway. "Go inside, it's raining—"

"Kei, why are you here?" she interrupts him, her voice strained—exasperated, almost. She's closer to him now, the faint yellow lights from the restaurant illuminating her face. Her eyes are big and doe-like, yet there's an emotion that simmers in them that Tsukishima doesn't quite understand.

"I'm trying to catch a cab for you—"

Her fingers dart forward to grab him by the collar of his shirt, her knuckles brushing his skin—it sends a jolt down his spine. She's clenching his shirt in her fists, practically shaking him with how she trembles from the cold. "Kei," she repeats again, there's a crack in her voice that breaks his heart. "Why are you here?"

He swallows, his breaths come out harder like he's trying to steady himself. His head lowers ever so slightly like even gravity was yearning for them to meet, to finally have their souls touch against all odds. His eyes search hers, even with the rain on the lenses of his glasses—he sees her. "You know why I'm here," his voice is strained.

She doesn't look away from him, doesn't shy away from him as she inches closer. "But its raining—"

"I'd walk through the entire town drenched in rain for you." Tsukishima can barely hear himself with how hard his heart is pounding, begging to be free from its restraints. "You kmow I would."

Rain falls on her face, but he sees the tears that pool in her eyes. "Do you still—?" her voice breaks in the end, throat bobbing as she swallows. "Do you still love me?"

His hands find purchase on either sides of her face, fingers cradling her cheeks—and she feels so, incredibly warm to the touch. She's burning hot, and Tsukishima suddenly feels as though he can breathe again—like he's been waiting for her all his life. Like her warmth is the only thing that makes sense to him. He says her name with the kind of gentleness that makes him ache on the inside. "I never stopped loving you," he finally confesses, watching the stars in her eyes multiply with his words. "From the moment I saw you sitting by the window, I knew I'd love you for the rest of my stupid life. Even when you'd left for Tokyo, I find myself looking for you in everything—but I didn't need to, because you already occupy every corner of my mind. I see you in every little thing even if I don't try to, because I love you and I can't stop loving you." A breathy laugh leaves her at those three words, her lips spreading into the smile that never fails to send him on his knees. "I love you—"

She yanks him down by the collar, pressing her mouth hotly to his. Fire engulfs his stomach, searing a line up his spine until it surrounds him whole. She tastes like beer and rain, and it's the most exhilarating combination Tsukishima has ever experienced as he kisses her back with every exploding fiber in his body. His hands leave her face, trailing down to her sides until he wraps his arms around her, picking her up so she's pressed flushed to his chest. He's prayed for this moment countless times since the day they'd said goodbye, and he wonders if this is all a dream—that he's actually passed out drunk on the table across of Bokuto and she was just a figment of his imagination.

But she pulls back from the kiss, forehead against his, and she feels warm. She feels real. She's desperately trying to catch her breath, arms looped around his neck as her feet dangle slightly in the air from how he has her lifted. "Kei, I didn't break up with you because I didn't love you anymore," she tells him.

Their noses brush, and Tsukishima can't stop himself from stealing a kiss. "I know," he says, lips grazing hers with every word.

"I broke up with you because I was scared you'd stop showing up one day."

Tsukishima snaps his gaze away from her mouth so he can look her in the eyes. His face soften immeasurably as he says, "I know I wasn't the best boyfriend to you back then, but I promise I'm not the same person I was. I'm so, so sorry for ever thinking what I did was acceptable—that I could get away with half-assing our relationship. And, God, I fucking regretted it, more than anything." He sets her down on her feet so he can cup her cheeks delicately in his hands. "I know I can't go back in the past and erase every single bad memory you've had to keep because of me, but if you would give me a chance, I want to show you how you deserve to be treated. Show you what I should've done for you all those years ago." He brushes a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Please let me have one more chance to do everything right by you."

She's crying, sniffing at the words spilling out of his heart, and it terrifies him that she's going to say no. But then she smiles at him—the one that's reserved just for him. And she breathes out, "How can I say no to that when I've loved you all this time?"

There's a stupid, idiotic grin on Tsukishima's face when he picks her up and spins her in the rain like two fools in love. He's kissing her—he's lost count of how many times he'd done so in the last few minutes; all he can think about is how he doesn't even feel the rain anymore because all he can register is her and how she consumes every piece of his soul.

And it hits Tsukishima in that very moment—the reason why she'd told him that one of her best memories was associated with the rain. It's because their first kiss had been under the rain, sharing an umbrella that was too small for them as he walks her home from school.

There are four things in life that Tsukishima Kei grows to love: strawberry shortcakes, dinosaurs, the rain, and, above them all—her.

 

---

 

BONUS:

 

Akaashi shakes his head as he watches the two kissing outside in the rain. He lets out an incoherent murmur under his breath before saying to Kuroo, "They're gonna wake up with a fever tomorrow morning if we don't stop them." His eyes slide to the grad student who's grinning widely.

Kuroo waves a hand dismissively. "Let them be. Young love or whatever, right?"

"Didn't you say you have a research paper to present in the morning? That it's a good chunk of her final grade?"

The smile drops from Kuroo's face. "Oh, fuck, you're right." And then he's running out of the restaurant, scolding the two for staying under the rain for way too long.

Akaashi chuckles, though his heart is warm at the sight of Tsukishima reuniting with his lost love whose heart never strayed from him despite being the rude asshole he is. He turns to Bokuto who's slumped on the table, body halfway draped over Akaashi, and he says, "Come on, Bokuto-san, let's go home."

Bokuto stirs, lifting his head to reveal glossy eyes as he sleepily blinks at him. "'Kaashi," he drawls, "it's a nice night, isn't it?"

He looks out to see Kuroo ushering Tsukishima and the girl he's tucked close around his arm back inside the restaurant. The three are smiling and laughing. Akaashi finds himself smiling back. "Yes, it is."

Notes:

thank you so much for reading! would love to hear your thoughts on this. can't wait to get started writing on the next haikyuu boy~