Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Kei, I scheduled an appointment with Rikiyu-sensei for your medical examination tomorrow. Just rest for tonight and don't worry about the chores. I'll handle them.”

His older brother, Akiteru, says as he finishes placing all of Kei's dirty laundry inside the washer. His sports bag was discarded on the floor and the remains of dirty volleyball equipment were left untouched.

Tsukishima Kei, a survivor of Ushijima's grueling spike that was carved to perfection after years of practice, has finished his bath and changed into his silk sleepwear. He was just about to wash his clothes but apparently, his brother beaten him to it and advised the blonde to take it easy and rest for the night.

It was kind of rare for his older brother to do this much when they weren't exactly on proper speaking terms yet—hell, Kei didn't even acknowledge Akiteru's existence anymore not until the blonde returned from summer camp and demanded Akiteru for answers about his suffocation, apparent exhaustion, and burn out from the sport back in his early high school days. Sure, they may have talked about the sport and it significantly impacted their relationship with one another but to the point of sharing one's affections through actions? Yeah, they weren't on that level of normalcy… yet.

The soft glow of the LED light in their laundry area cast a golden hue on taupe strands. It made Akiteru glow brighter, his softly matured features accentuating the kind look that he shared with Kei. Nii-chan, even as time ticked and escaped Kei's grasp, he was still kind-hearted and expressed his tenderness through actions that Kei thoroughly missed—even if he was adamant to admit it. He vaguely remembers the memories shared between the two of them as the chasm of their relationship grew larger day by day aware of the crumbling brotherhood that they once shared when Kei was in grade school. The blonde never thought that he could relive the forgotten past with warmth embracing the two lost souls.

“What is it? Do you need something else, Kei?”

The blonde was awakened from his stupor when Akiteru touched a comforting hand on Kei's shoulder to which he visibly flinched and inwardly cussed when the bundle of nerves from his right pinky twitched in pain from the sudden movement that he caused.

“Ah, nothing.” Kei says once he recovered from his daydreaming. “I was about to clean up the laundry by myself but I do not see the reason to do that task anymore.”

Hurt flashes through Akiteru's eyes. “Ah, I figured that you would be resting so I did it my—”

“Thank you,” Kei says with a small smile tugging from the corner of his lips. “I couldn't have done it by myself either way.”

Before his older brother could come up with a reply, Kei muttered his excuse to leave and turned back on his heel to trudge the path toward the comfort of his room. The blonde had enough of physical and mental turmoil to waste away so having an emotionally draining conversation with his brother alone would be the cause of his death.

As he opened the door of his room, the artificial warmth coming from his heater enveloped his lithe body. His blankets scattered across the calming presence of his bed were inviting him to regain his lost energy. Without any hesitations and without dwelling over what had happened during the match, he buried his nose in the soft sheets of cotton fluff and closed his eyes to let sleep envelop him.

But of course, even sleep was a crime now.

His eyelids shot open when he heard the familiar beeping tone from his iPad—a clear indication that someone was initiating a call. His throat bubbled with a groan of frustration as he remembered that he had forgotten to put it on silent mode before leaving home. He would usually put it on silent mode before his feet stepped out of the house since he didn't want to be disturbed whenever he would study the entire night or watch a randomly chosen geography channel that was filled with a bunch of dinosaur facts.

The blonde, even if he was on the way to dreamland, did not have any choice but to sit up on his bed and reach out for the piece of device that disturbed his peace. The screen of his iPad cast a harsh glow inside the darkness of his room so he opened his bedside lamp and slipped on his glasses to see who was calling at the peak of night.

His Face ID was recognized and the familiar group photo of Kuroo getting hit by a stray volleyball from the back of his head flashed from his screen. Of course, Kei inwardly says, what did I even do to anger the gods like this? It's not like he was going to be riding the carriage on the way to drowsiness anyway so he accepted the call even if he was mildly pissed.

His eyes followed his three seniors on the screen. They were pixelated—a clear indication that the WiFi connection in the province isn't the best. Akaashi, who's in his room, hair still messily curly as the gunmetal hue of his eyes showed the lack of expression that he usually bore. Even at night, when he was perched on his study table his chin propped on his hand as he looked down on Kei, he was still pretty as his soft features were illuminated by his table lamp. Chaotic, loveable Bokuto was grinning from ear to ear. His hair was still wet and plastered on his forehead where the sunrise beads were hidden from the curtain of his messy strands. He looks so happy sitting on the couch cross-legged. Kuroo, on the other hand, was moving around the kitchen space grabbing whatever shit was inside his fridge to satiate the hunger inside his stomach. He should have known that Kuroo was busy with his fingertips grabbing grub and placing it on the counter table. While Kei cannot see his face directly, he knows what Kuroo would look like on his bed, grinning at him like some kind of idiot—it was kind of amusing seeing him in another light.

“Kei,” Akaashi called out from his position, “were you about to sleep?”

Kei nodded. “I was about to doze off but…”

Akaashi cast out an apologetic smile in return. “Ah, I have to apologize. Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san were both persistent—”

Whatever Akaashi had to say, it was suddenly cut off by Bokuto's loud, boisterous exclamation of his: “Hey, hey, hey, Tsukki! That was an awesome block against Ushiwaka; now I have a complete-complete victory over you two!”

Kei had to flinch at the sudden grating voice over his speaker.

“Bokuto-san, you should tone down your voice. Kei’s family may be sleeping, you know.” Akaashi says.

Bokuto pouted over the screen. “But, Akaashi…”

Before Akaashi could worsen Bokuto’s mood, Kei chimes in. “I still do not know what you mean by that, Bokuto-san, since it lacks any sense—but, thank you.”

“Oi, Four-eyes, why are you thanking the idiotic owl when it was me who taught you how to block properly?” Kuroo butts in as he was about to take another bite of his onigiri.

“It's Tsukishima,” Kei corrects him for the nth time. “Don't hog all the glory, Kuroo-san. If it wasn't for Bokuto-san’s spikes, I wouldn't have learned how to properly block the ball either way.”

Kuroo indignantly squawks while Bokuto laughs in return. Akaashi just hides his smile behind his hand. Kei could feel his cheeks warming up despite his left hand aching from holding his iPad steadily.

“How could you, Tsukki! After I have spent years training you to be the best blocker in your prefecture!”

“Lies. Correction, you trained me—no, bothered me—for a maximum of five days. Also, I am not the best blocker in Miyagi since Date Tech Volleyball Club exists.”

Kuroo raised his right eyebrow, a mannerism that he unknowingly unlocked as he observed people beyond the lies that existed within their eyes. Kei knows that Kuroo is reading him, ready to counter the blonde’s claims.

“Stepping down the pedestal so quickly when you’re the first blocker in Miyagi to successfully spike the Number One Hitter in all of Japan? Even if you are only a pompous first year? My, you have a very humble personality, Tsukki.”

Kei rolls his eyes in response to Kuroo’s taunts. “Well, people do say I am very pleasing and kind.”

“Kuroo, stop being so mean to Tsukki! You just have to accept that I am way better than you when it comes to training Tsukki right.”

Kei rolled his eyes. “I did not say that—”

“Oh, shut it, Bokuto! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have your complete victory over Ushiwaka!”

Is this fight even worth it? Ugh, I’m getting tired.

“Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san, didn't you say that you called Kei because you were worried about his injury?”

The two stopped bickering immediately and their eyes wandered into the camera, trying their best to read Kei and his emotions about his apparent injury. His bandaged right hand was lying beside him, skin still twitching in sparks of pain as the bundle of nerves surrounding his pinky was numb.

The two were quiet as their questions of concern died down in the back of their throats. Kei looked at each of their pixelated faces on the screen of their iPad—Kuroo stopped eating whatever snack laid out on the table his eyebrows pinching in worry; Bokuto propped his chin on his knees as he rocked back and forth from where he was sitting; and dear Akaashi was staring intently at the camera of his laptop getting a read on Kei. They were all waiting for Kei to open up, to let the blonde take a step inside the awaiting mass of nothingness.

It was kind of hard using his left hand to hold his device so when he adjusted from his seat using his right hand unconsciously, he jolted in pain and groaned from the sudden pain crawling from his fractured pinky spreading throughout his whole hand. His iPad was suddenly discarded behind him as his left hand supported his right wrist, his body caging himself in the darkness of his room. Apparently, his exclamation of his hurt was loud because Akiteru was suddenly knocking outside his door.

The cacophony of concerned statements rang inside his room. And Akiteru, without even confirmation from his younger brother, opened his door and immediately ran towards the bed. Light from the hallways spilled inside dark wooden floorboards.

“Kei! I heard you from outside, are you okay?”

“Nii-chan,” Kei groans out despite wanting to scream from the searing pain, “I’m fine—I just placed pressure on my right hand. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” Akiteru says skeptically.

The blonde nods in affirmation and then adds: “It’s nothing serious.”

“Just call me whenever you need me, okay? And don't stay up late, we have to go to the clinic early in the morning.”

Instead of farewells and goodnights, Akiteru ran his fingers through the blonde’s locks lightly massaging his scalp using the pads of his fingertips. Tsukishima sucked in a breath and unconsciously, his body responding much faster than his pent-up brain moved closer to his brother’s touch—a feeling he still chased up until this day. His childhood dependency never seemed to change and morph into something bitter and frigid.

A jump back in the past filled with smiles and filled with his brother’s adoration for him.

“You played really well today, Kei.” Akiteru whispered with a ghost of a smile that only his younger brother could see. “I’m really proud of you.”

Even in the early beginnings of Winter, where cold creeps in the crevices of his room finding ways to torment his lithe physique, Kei felt incredibly and undeniably warm inside.

Kei formed his reserved smile of his own, his teeth barely showing in between his curved lips as his brother exited his room silently. He almost forgot the pain he was sporting only appearing once again when he picked up the discarded iPad on his bed.

He once came into view with the familiar faces he grew accustomed to.

Kuroo was the first to speak up, his tone joking and teasing at the same time: “Oho? Dear Tsukki here got praised by his brother.”

Kei clicked a tongue at his senior. “It was a mistake accepting your call.”

“Tsukki! Your brother seems like a kind person! Does he play volleyball, too? I wanna play with him!”

“He plays for the community team whenever he's free from work,” Kei says with a swell of pride covering his heart.

“Is he a spiker and an ace like me, Tsukki?”

At that, the blonde laughed wholeheartedly which made the three on the other side blink and let their jaw drop in surprise. They never knew how to make the blonde smile, let alone, laugh, and now that Bokuto has mentioned his older brother, the three could see how mirth was dancing in the blonde’s eyes. They could practically feel their heart bouncing from their chests wanting to escape their prison and stay by the blonde’s side.

Akaashi felt as if his world was revolving around him, time a profoundly complex concept as his gaze was solely fixed on Kei. Kuroo felt his world shatter only for the broken pieces to fix themselves entirely, seeming to break once again—this is the effect the blonde has on him. Entirely whipped and too crestfallen to pick and fix the earth he is living in. While Bokuto seems awestruck, words and thoughts simmering into nothingness as he only wants and wants and wants to be with the blonde once again.

The blonde tilts his head with a smile. “He is an ace, Bokuto-san.”

“I think we should all go to Miyagi,” Akaashi declares out loud without any hesitation backing the confident tone in his voice.

The blonde blinked, surprised that the calm brunette was the one who suggested that. There's a determined lilt in his voice and his eyes glimmed with something that Kei couldn't point out.

“That's a great idea!” says the two idiots and Kei mentally groans to himself because he knows fighting and arguing with them is futile.

As Kei shifted on the bed to let his shoulders rest on the wooden headboard, his fingers throbbed again from the pain and he couldn't resist hissing from the jolts of electricity running inside his veins—reminding him of his foolishness in hesitating to block the ball or rather, his bullheadedness to trudge through uncharted waters.

“Tsukki, is it really that painful?”

“If Kei is going to the physician tomorrow, then yes, it seems worse than we thought it would be, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi says with concern painting his tone blue.

“Hey, Moonshine,” Kuroo calls out to him on the screen.

“Hmm?”

Kei glances up only to see Kuroo’s hazel eyes pierce into his every fiber of being unthreading and unlacing his every school of thoughts running inside his brain overdrive.

“When you single-handedly blocked Ushiwaka for the second time, what did you feel?”

“Greedy, egoistic, and fear.” Kei says almost too immediately, and too honestly.

“And why do you think that is?”

Kei bit his lower lip as he tried to assimilate and analyze his plays once again in the forefront of his mind.

Ushiwaka is in front of me, Kei realizes too suddenly. He saw how his eyes were devoid of any joy in crushing his opponents and only saw a flickering image of hunger, of being a glutton for victory—for success.

His eyes mirror Kei’s and the blonde sucked in a breath, as he saw fear and doubt—these burdened feelings that resurfaced once again, no, that were there since the beginning of the match.

They were going to lose, Kei sensed it. I couldn’t do it—

Kei jumped, too greedy, and yet fear was covering the entirety of his system, as his fingers came in contact with Ushiwaka’s full force of his spike and then his pinky, dislocated, came in sudden contact with the net.

He wasn't able to register the pain, not until blood, his warm blood was covering his palms. Red, red, red—just like his humiliating fear of losing.

“I doubted myself for a moment,” Kei says with a soft whisper. “I doubted… them. I feared we were going to lose and I got too full of myself, thinking that I could block him once again and then I didn't—I couldn't. It was suffocating… to say. My composure, even if it was just a moment, cracked.”

“Did it now?” Kuroo says with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “From what I saw on the screen, you looked pissed that you were injured.”

“I was,” Kei says with a click of his tongue. “It was really painful, you know?”

“Sentiments, sentiments,” Kuroo shrugged it off. “You see, my little country bumpkin, blocking is not just about placing pressure on the opponents—you should also have the heart to believe that your teammates are behind you, persevering with you. It's the essence of blocking. And because I know you get into your head too much of the time, you let Ushiwaka overcome your abilities—he saw through your fear, Tsukki. He saw how in milliseconds, you doubted your teammates and most importantly, yourself. The fact that you also hesitated in your block tells me your fingers aren't prepared to brace for the impact of his spike. Now, have you learned your lesson and your mistake, my cute little kouhai?”

“I am not your kouhai,” Kei snaps at him. His tone is sharp and biting at the same time as defiance bubbles inside his chest.

Once again, Kei could feel Ushiwaka shoving both his and Hinata’s head against the linoleum floor of the gymnasium. Fear crept up the forefront of his mind, his breathing tight inside his chest, how he could only see defeat and cries of frustration.

“I detest you,” he could feel Ushiwaka whispering this mantra all over and over again. “You’re nothing but gravel and empty confidence.”

“You're at it again, Tsukki.” Bokuto says, snapping Kei’s reverie letting him focus on the present once again.

His position changed, the screen on his iPad focusing on the entirety of the spiker’s face making his twinkling orbs sparkle like twin suns. There was an underlying seriousness and sincerity covering his irises, his lips drawn in a cupid pout. The wrinkle between his brow deepened as he glared at the blonde.

“You know, being scared is normal for players—even I get scared of big, airheaded blockers. Take Kuroo as an example.”

Kuroo’s indignant squawk can be heard from the speakers. “You nasty shi—”

“Fear is a normal emotion for us because we're humans, Kei.” Akaashi cuts in swiftly. “And I don't think you could've controlled what you were feeling and what was happening on the court at the same time.”

“If you let fear envelop you, it doesn't mean it can swallow you, Tsukki. That's what I used to tell Akaashi, you know? Let fear consume the entirety of your being but never let that emotion become the cause of your downfall.”

“Let fear be your companion, that's what Bokuto is trying to say, Kei.” Kuroo says. “Ushiwaka or not, Benkai or not, like you, they are all players with different capacities and experiences. Fear is not something to be feared at, rather, it's something to be faced amidst the war happening on court. Ushiwaka took that opportunity to cage you at the very last minute, making you panic internally causing every part of you to twitch and loosen its hold.”

“You’re smart, Kei.” says Akaashi with a small smile. “I know that you're not letting your mistake hinder you from becoming a better player.”

“Who knows?” Kuroo shrugs. “Maybe he is already a player to be reckoned with. Correct me if I’m wrong, Sweetheart.”

At that, Kei let every word that they utter sink inside his head. Internally tucking every piece of their phrase neatly inside his organized library of his thoughts.

Their assurances made it easier for that lingering memory of fear to melt into a puddle of forgettable memories. It made the blonde’s cheeks warm despite the cold atmosphere in Miyagi. He tried hiding a smile under the collar of his sleepwear but unfortunately, Bokuto noticed it.

“Ah! Tsukki is smiling!” he says giddily. “Isn't he an adorable little crow?”

“Bokuto-san, Kei is not a crow.”

“Tsukki, if only I’d known my praises can make you smile like that, I would've complimented you more instead of irritating your sorry ass.”

“Stop being presumptuous, Kuroo-san.” Kei says with an eye roll. “And no, I don't want to hear your insufferable praises and your grating voice.”

They fell into comfortable silence once again letting the quiet succumb to them and lull them into drowsiness. Kei could feel his own eyes starting to weigh heavily.

“Could we, uhm—” Akaashi stutters and then opens his mouth once again. “Can we see your injured hand? I know that you're uncomfortable, but we were really worr—”

Kei showed the bandages that serve as armor for his dislocated pinky finger. As the warm glow of his bedside lamp bathed his ivory bandages gold, Kei could see how every wrap of thick gauze was intricate work. The delicate tapestry covers the ugliness that swarms in between his fingers. After the awarding ceremony, Kei immediately went to the clinic once more to let the nurse change his bleeding gauze. Hours ago, patches of blood seeped in between the seams, now, only the remnants of pain were left behind haunting and reminding the blonde of his sacrifices for the sport.

“My pinky is dislocated,” Kei says with a sigh. “My brother needed assurance if it needed stitches or prescribed ointments. The nurse inside the gym told me that I should lay low in practice if I want this to heal within 2 weeks.”

“So it’s that bad, huh?” Kuroo said and clicked his tongue in the end. “Damn that Ushiwaka.”

“Well, considering this mishap, I guess I’m partially in luck.” Kei says with a shift in his tone. “No volleyball for two weeks? That’s a reward.”

“I dunno, Tsukki. Sure, there’s no volleyball, but do you really want to sport your injury for that long? It can be annoying, you know.” Bokuto says.

“I agree with Bokuto-san on this one, Kei. We don’t even know if it can fully heal within the time frame.”

“Mark my words, if I see that damn Ushiwaka, I'll punch him in his pretty boy face.”

Kei rolled his eyes. “Stop being dramatic, Kuroo-san.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi says. “Japan won’t have another handsome player that can represent the country.”

Kuroo squawks in an ugly manner, rice spilling out from his mouth toward Kuroo’s device. Bokuto shouted an indignant “hey!” on his side while Kei nodded in agreement.

“I think Ushiwaka has foreign blood,” Kei says to Akaashi, “I heard his father is from the States.”

Something playful glinted in Akaashi’s irises. “Is that so? No wonder his cover page magazines always sold out in a few days.”

“You bought his 2018 issue?” Bokuto asks with his mouth gaping from the surprise of it all. “You didn’t tell me!”

“Who knows, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi says with a smirk emerging from his lips.

“I never would have thought that you were an Ushiwaka fanatic, Akaashi-san.”

“And I never even took him as a guy who would love foreign blood!” Kuroo practically screams.

“Well, never judge a book by its cover. And no, I did not buy his magazine—it was a gift given to me by my mother for my birthday. During that time, I was irrevocably smitten with Bokuto-san and yes, I bought every magazine where he appeared for interviews.”

Kei blinks in surprise while Kuroo whistles teasingly. Bokuto, on the other hand, was already looking at Akaashi as if the sun rose and sank with him. Twin suns were round and they were swimming in happiness as he looked at the Cupid who successfully shoved an arrow through his beating chest.

“Akaashi! I love you so so so much!”

Akaashi smiles, his gunmetal blue irises disappearing under the apples of his cheeks.

“I know.”

“So can I still punch Ushiwaka?”

“No.” Akaashi and Kei sternly say.

“No fair!” Kuroo complains. “Why?”

“You’d only hurt your weak hands,” Kei teases.

“Hey, just so you know I am made of stone!”

“Sure, I'll believe that once every pig on this planet learns how to fly.”

“Are you seriously doubting me, Tsukki?”

“Yes,” Kei says without a trace of hesitation. “You didn’t notice how hard and firm his muscles were on the screen?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Bokuto cuts off their back-and-forth banter. “Why are you talking about his muscles, Tsukki? Don’t tell me you're interested in him? In Ushiwaka?”

Kuroo’s jaw drops in return. “Is that true, Tsukki? Don’t tell me you don’t find us attractive anymore?”

Kei rolls his eyes at their dramatic display of antics.

“Do you seriously think I am attracted to him? Please spare me. And also, when did I ever admit to finding all of you attractive? I clearly remember that I only said that to Akaashi-san.”

Akaashi beams in return. “You were cute, you know? I visibly caught sight of the tips of your ears burning red.”

“I’m sure you do,” Kei says drily. “You teased me after that.”

“I did. And I kissed your cheeks after teasing you.”

At that, Kei suddenly felt a gush of warmth covering every part of his body. Once again, the clinging memory of summer heat rushed to the forefront of his mind.

It was hot. Cicadas hummed under the burning glow of the moon, and the telltale of the loud impacts of volleyballs hitting the linoleum floor vibrated under the tips of the blonde’s fingers. He is now sitting on the bench with the second-year senior from Fukurodani High. They were both sharing silence without any awkwardness lingering in the burning atmosphere.

“You're really pretty Akaashi-san,” Kei says as his eyes slowly shift to look at the boy beside him. His cheeks were warm and flushed from the endless practice sessions that they had.

Akaashi’s eyes widened and the unknown waters of flooding emotions filled his aquamarine orbs. A barely there smile formed in his lips and joy bloomed in the depths of the blonde’s heart.

“Is that your way of saying that you like me?” Akaashi teased. “You're also pretty, Tsukishima.”

Kei’s heart soared in happiness. Biting his lips, he had to turn away because of embarrassment creeping in. He felt how the tips of his ears burned and thrummed together with the quickening beat of his heart.

But what he did not anticipate was how Akaashi’s slender fingers wrapped over his own before leaning in to kiss the apple of his left cheek.

The kiss did not last long but it made every wall of defense that Kei built throughout his life crumble in milliseconds.

“I should've kissed you on your lips before you left,” Akaashi says with a sigh.

“You'll have your fill,” Kei says with a small smile decorating his lips. “You're all coming to Miyagi, right?”

The three of them smiled, an unsaid promise left in the dim-lit corner of Kei’s heated bedroom.

“Tsukishima! Raise your arms higher!”

Kei could feel his anger simmering and bubbling inside the blackened dungeon of his mind. The blonde did not even know who it was, some tall player who was lucky that they were personally handpicked by the coach of Shiratorizawa. He knew that the guy was also a middle blocker, but he did not expect that he was one of the few persons inside this heated gymnasium to take practice so seriously.

If only Sawamura-san hadn’t agreed on his behalf to participate in this dreaded first-year camp, he would not have spent his entire time socializing with people he would not even bother to care about. Let alone personally call him out for his faults.

And the fact that he was called out only because of personal practice? Personal practice?

It’s making his stress peak higher, his anger is nearly at boiling point.

“I hate this,” Kunimi grumbled beside him. “I hate him.”

“Same.” Kei muttered under his breath as he once again jumped to spike the ball that Kunimi tossed to him.

The ball aligned with his palm perfectly and a resounding smack can be heard throughout the gymnasium when it made an impact on the linoleum floor. His feet landed mere inches away from the net as he and Kunimi made their way towards the sides to take a quick break with the rest of his apparent so-called “buddies”.

“Looks like you've worked yourself to the bone, Kunimi.” Kindaichi says once they were close enough for earshot.

“Shut up,” Kunimi says beside him. “I’m already pissed as it is.”

“Not even Oikawa-san could force you to practice for two hours straight.” Kindaichi belted out a teasing laugh. “This is a new record. I have to tell this to Iwaizumi-san.”

Kei and Kunimi sat on the wooden panels as they both took large gulps from their water bottles. They were beyond exhausted, both being paired up for spiking and receiving drills for personal practice. Kei could not even fathom how he survived almost three hours of practice straight, let alone forgetting to drink water in between. They were both caught up in doing the things assigned to them and also forced to hear unnecessary “helpful suggestions” from the other players surrounding them. Almost all of the players knew that the two of them were major slackers on their field—wanting to preserve their energy or let the game warm up to them before solely letting loose on the court.

It’s stupid, Kei thought internally. They are all monsters.

His unwarranted negative emotions inside this hellhole also peaked because it had been three days since Kei had last talked to them. Three days without calls, texts, or even corny emojis.

He hated this feeling of hopelessness. The sinking feeling of slowly drowning in the vast ocean of despair and desolation. The only thing to keep his head out of the gutter was the first-year camp. And of course, Hinata’s stupidity and the utter humiliation of becoming their ball boy.

“Kei,” Kunimi calls out to him, “who was that punk who called you out?”

Kei found out that he didn’t abhor the single syllable of his name when he was called by Kunimi. He did not know when the brunette started calling him that, but he was already comfortable in his presence that Kei found out that he did not mind the familiarity. He did not mind that they were already on a first-name basis despite knowing each other last Friday.

“Dunno,” Kei says with an eye roll. “It’s bothersome having to deal with people like that.”

“That was Wandei Rai from Eiwa High. He’s a personal pick from Washijou-sensei himself. He’s the only person here who is not from Miyagi.”

Recognition dawned in Kunimi’s eyes. “‘The Thunderous Middle Blocker of the South’?”

Kindaichi nods solemnly. “I don’t know but it seems that Wandei’s parents are friends with Washijou-sensei. I heard from the others that Washijou-sensei only invited him out of respect.”

Kei sighs. “Don’t believe in baseless rumors, Kindaichi. Whatever Washijou-sensei’s reason for inviting him, we do not have to meddle and discuss it like creepy gossip mongers. I’m just pissed at the fact that he blatantly calls me out even though it was for personal practice.”

“Kei’s right.” Kunimi nodded beside him. “You know how aggravated we get whenever people force our asses to go all out.”

“Nah, man. I’m just surprised that a prominent middle blocker is with us.” Kindaichi’s eyes started twinkling in delight. “Do you think I could get his signature?”

“I hope not,” both of them say as they slumped on the wall.

Volleyball practice continued for about an hour or two and by the end of infinite smacks and jumps, they were all granted permission to take a quick hot shower before they needed to head home. Kei quickly washed and changed his sweaty clothes, he is now wearing layer over layer of clothing since the cold is now unbearable in the city.

“How many sweaters do you have, Tsukki?” asked a bewildered Koganegawa.

“About three,” Kei says with a huff as he struggles to wear his parka jacket.

As all of them stepped outside the gymnasium, the cold breeze of the nearing Winter season ruffled Kei’s blonde hair. The blonde shivered and continued walking on the sidewalk. He was beside Kunimi while Kindaichi, Hinata, and Koganegawa were busy exchanging cell numbers. Since Goshiki is a student from Shiratorizawa, he is required to sleep in the school dorms.

“You have a signed volleyball of Ishikawa Yuki? No way!” Kindaichi says to Koganegawa who was bashful under the praise.

“Yeah! Me and my folks went to the Leagues in Tokyo last year! Man, he was so nice!”

“You have to send me a picture, Kogane!” Hinata urges. “No fair! I wanted to go, too!”

“With your height, you can be easily shoved inside a luggage.” Kei quips from behind. “Although it would be easier to send you overseas via parcel delivery.”

Hinata bristled, his hair becoming pointy by the second as he gnashed his teeth together.

“Tsukishima!”

“You said you wanted to see the Olympics, right? It’s easier to shove you inside a box and the next thing you know, you're traveling all the way to Paris.”

“If I remember correctly, Japan's Olympic Team is already in the Olympic Village.”

“It has a village?” Hinata asks pointedly at Kunimi. “Just how big is Paris?”

“Larger than your body figure for sure,” Kei says without any heat in his tone. “And also, did you finish your English homework? You have so much free time talking about Ishikawa Yuki and yet you haven’t done something productive in the least. How about you scurry along and finish what you are supposed to be doing.”

Hinata squawked and immediately turned pale when he heard Kei’s reminders.

Hinata immediately scrambled onto his bike and quickly peddled along the sidewalk. Kei had to roll his eyes in exasperation as he continued walking with the rest of his friend group.

“Are you done with your homework, Tsukki?” Koganegawa asks.

Kei nodded. “I finished it during lunch break.”

“You didn’t eat lunch?” Kindaichi asked.

“Only melon bread. I don’t usually eat my lunch heavily.”

“That explains why you're so thin,” quips Kunimi. “It’s a surprise you even managed to block Ushiwaka’s spike.”

“Thanks for the backhanded compliment, Akira.” Kei says with a wave of his hand.

“You're welcome.” Kunimi replies drily.

As they arrived at the gate, they all parted ways. While the three needed to buy practice gear equipment in the city, Kei needed to go in the opposite direction since he needed to board the bus. The last trip would be around nine in the evening and since practice ended thirty minutes earlier, he is not in a rush to walk towards the bus stop at the second district.

As he was about to round the corner, he spotted a figure leaning against the lamppost. Kei wasn’t familiar with him—only that the boy had strikingly purple-dyed ends and that he was wearing a plain varsity jacket. Only when he raised his head to look at the passing blonde did Kei notice that it was Wandei Rai—one of the sought-after volleyball players under 19 to represent Japan in the Olympics.

“Hey, Tsukishima.”

Kei stopped in his tracks to regard the boy who called him out politely. He is now face-to-face with a prominent blocker in the country and yet Kei did not feel any ounce of gratification entering his system. All he wanted was to go home, throw profanities at the three, and overthink, only to repeat his morning routines again and again.

“Wandei-san,” Kei says with a head bow, “good evening.”

“Ah, no need for politeness. We're the same age and all,” he says bashfully as his right hand scratches the back of his neck. “I just want to apologize.”

Kei blinks. “For what?”

“When I shouted at you to raise your arms higher.”

“Oh, that.” Kei shrugs indifferently. “Please don’t worry about it. My emotions can really get the best of me. Now, if you'll excuse me.”

As Kei was about to walk again, Wandei reached out to grip the blonde’s arm without thinking about it thoroughly. Kei cranes his neck to look at the hand that was holding his arm firmly and Wandei is immediately burned so he decides to let go.

“Ah—”

“Can you please stop apologizing?” Kei cut him off. “I told you, Wandei-san, I don’t mind at all.”

“Ah, right. Yes, so, uhm, I noticed that you're going to the bus stop too? Can I walk with you?”

Kei blinks at him, baffled by his suggestion, but he nonetheless agrees by nodding his head.

They started walking side-by-side in silence, only the occasional whistles of the season winds could be heard as well as the honks of the passing cars and trucks. As they passed the pedestrian lane, Wandei shattered the glass of silence trapping them.

“You're from Karasuno, right? I heard that you have the Freak Duo on your team.”

“Unfortunately,” Kei says drily. “It’s tiring being around idiots 24/7.”

Wandei laughs, his hair bouncing with him as his lustrous eyes twinkle in delight under the dim light of the lamppost. Kei noticed that the boy had a deep tan complexion and that he was slightly taller than Kei.

“You're a funny one,” Wandei says.

“Thanks,” Kei says with a wave of his hand. “It’s one of the few things I am good at.”

“I didn’t know that you're an entertainer, Tsukishima.”

“I’m not. I just enjoy bullying people.”

“Thanks for back there. There were a lot of rumors surrounding this issue, but the truth is, after this camp, I'll be moving to the United States.” Wandei says solemnly. “It was Washijou-sensei’s idea that instead of me attending the camp in Tokyo, it'll be better for me to stay here and take a look at the promising freshmen players. That way, instead of agonizing over whether I am doing alright with the rest of the promising players in all of Japan, I could just take a quick breather and just… I don’t know, relax and reminisce I guess?”

Kei could not hide the surprise in his expression and yet, he just nodded to show that he was listening. They were just mere acquaintances at best, and yet Wandei was telling him a secret that he should not divulge to others.

“It was better than I expected—I enjoyed chatting with players here. Heck, I even talked to the Guess Monster himself, but you know, you're a promising player, Tsukishima.”

“Come again?”

Wandei cast a small grin at him as he pointed at his eyes. “You see things beyond the ball. I know how much you analyze the game first before predicting plays. But the secret to your blocking style? Is that you have patience before you go in for the kill. I saw your game tape when we were traveling to Miyagi. You're a magician.”

Kei scoffs. “Hardly. I did not do anything. It was all of the Freak Duo’s fault.”

“You should give yourself more credit, you know? If it weren’t for your persistent blocking, your team would not have advanced in the Spring Nationals.”

Kei just walked once again silently as Wandei kept blabbering nonsensical sentiments about his life in the South. Before the blonde knows it, he’s tucked away in his state of unconsciousness as his mind drifts far away from the chains of the three players whom he is utterly smitten with.

“Tsukishima!” Wandei shouted as he ran from the backlines before jumping taking flight from the ground as his form seemed to stop midair. As Kei set the ball for a quick towards the sidelines, Wandei perfectly came in contact with the ball as he aimed for a line straight.

As the referee blew a whistle to indicate that it was their point only then Wandei was in his space, his hands in the air to which Kei got the cue for a quick high-five.

“That was a nice set, Tsukishima!” Wandei says with a grin playing on the corner of his lips.

“It was luck,” Kei says absentmindedly. “I was afraid that it must be too low for you.”

“Too low? Man, it was perfect! If it weren’t for your set, I wouldn’t have done that amazingly, sickening line shot!”

“Wan-san, stop praising Tsukishima too much.” says a player from another school. “He’s not used to people hovering over him for attention.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

“But he deserves my thanks!” Wandei says all too energetically for Kei’s being.

An unwanted image popped into the forefront of Kei’s mind. Instead of Wandei Rai, Kei could see the energetic buffoon who could never seem to tire from talking and jumping too much. Wild bichromatic strands stand out on the court with all the confidence of being an ace and a captain of a powerhouse school. With his hands on his hip, he would always crane his neck and throw a roguish smile at the blonde.

“That was a nice set, Tsukki! Come play with me again?”

Kei clicked his tongue in distaste as he walked back to his position as a setter for the match and continued the whole set with annoyance lacing his every movement. His sets were now sharper, and yet very delicate to give his spikers choices up in the air. As the set ended, they bagged their win.

Goddamnit, it's been almost 4 days since they last talked to me.

Even if Kei could not admit it out loud, they miss talking to them. They miss their annoying and senseless conversations over the phone.

“Stop frowning or you'll have wrinkles, Kei.” Akira said as he sat beside the blonde. “You're also scaring your teammates, you know?”

“Stop pissing Tsukishima, Kunimi.” Kindaichi says.

“I’m not. I’m just stating facts. Also, those were nice sets, Kei.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best teacher.”

Akaashi-san.

“I doubt Kageyama would teach you,” Kindaichi says with a scoff. “He would always be a grumpy and a pissy asshole.”

“Kageyama would always be mumbling shit.”

Of course, the two would immediately assume that it was the brunette who taught him the secrets behind his sets. They wouldn’t even know about his summer escapades, not when they have exclusively decided that their relationship with one another should be private—an untold tale of rushed emotions.

It’s not that Kei hated the fact that their relationship should be hidden behind the curtain of glory, no. He just wanted his feelings to be out in the open, to have someone to talk to about his apparent predicament. About why the three were completely out of the radar for Kei to reach, about why the incessant feeling of doubt and fear threatened to cloud over the rationality of his sentiments.

Thinking was too much for the blonde so Kei sighed wistfully as he stood up to refill his water bottle outside the gym. And what luck has brought upon him by the gods when he sees the face of the middle blocker who reminds him too much of the heat supposedly bathing him whole.

Wandei’s eyes widened in surprise from seeing the blonde, but somehow he still found it himself to smile at Kei.

“Tsukishima, hey.”

“Wandei-san.”

“That was a nice game back there. Your sets really boosted the team’s morale.”

Kei shakes his head. “My sets were just mediocre at best. Please don’t think about it too much. I was only doing my job properly.”

Wandei pouted and made way for Kei when he was just about to reach for the faucet to fill his bottle.

“You're doing it again,” Wandei says.

“Doing what?”

“Having no confidence in your abilities, basing your capabilities most of the time on luck, hiding behind the shadow of everyone in this gym.”

One by one, Wandei listed off Kei’s negative traits about himself while the blonde waited for his bottle to be filled up with potable water. The boy from the South continued filling the silence with Kei’s locked capabilities—an untouched territory that the blonde himself shoved under the rugs of armor.

“You really ought to give yourself more credit. You're a great player, man, and I really want to play against you in an official match someday.”

Kei deeply exhales and faces Wandei, his eyebrows pinched in annoyance. “How can you even be so sure that I would continue playing after I graduate?”

Wandei pulled a teasing smirk from the corner of his lips as his messy hair was blown by the December breeze.

“Because you're like me, Tsukishima.” He says as he draped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him to walk side-by-side towards the entrance of the gymnasium. “You also hate the prospect of losing.”

“That’s kind of presumptuous of you, Wandei-san.” Kei says with a huff of annoyance. “And could you please remove your arm? It’s quite heavy.”

Wandei laughed over Kei’s reply. “I really like your attitude.”

“And I don’t.”

“Fine by me, Tsukki.”

Kei internally groans and stops himself from strangling the man who had done nothing but annoy him the entire morning.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Wandei pulls him closer and the blonde could feel that his crown was practically buried under the boy’s chin. “Tsukishima is such a wordy thing to say, you know? In fact, you can call me Rai—I wouldn’t even mind.”

“No, I refuse, thank you very much.”

Wandei snorts as he finally relents and removes his arm from his shoulders. Kei was relieved of such uncomfortable proximity, finally having his own personal space once again, not until Wandei looped their arms together as he skipped towards the sidelines and pulled Kei in tow.

“You cannot change my mind—we're besties and I definetely need your contact info.”

Kei could feel Hinata was already laughing behind his back and he could feel his migraine rising from his veins any minute now. It wasn’t often that Kei would be at the center of attention of so many players because he is used to the fact that they are either wary of him or pissed and annoyed by the blonde’s attitude towards other opponents. It’s not like it is his first time being noticed by other players from other schools, it’s just that the situation now is just too unusual for the blonde.

“Did you know? My parents are originally from the U.S., but they needed to migrate here because my grandmother was sick. Well, she’s dead now so we're moving back. They made an arrangement for me to skip high school and focus on training for a foreign team.”

“Is that so?” the blonde says absent-mindedly as he wishes that someone could free him of his torment.

“Hey, aren’t you curious about my hair? Well, my friends and I were experimenting with dyeing hair and look? Isn’t it sick? My parents were mad mad, but they were cool about it after a week.”

“Really?”

“I heard that mochis here in Miyagi are so good, man! Can we get one? Please? Please?”

“I'll check my schedule.”

The rest of the practice was filled with a cacophony of litanies: “nice block, Tsukki!”, “give us a nice serve, Tsukki!”, “nice emergency set!”, “let’s win this, Tsukki!”. And every single one of them aggravated Kei. He isn’t used to the fact that people would constantly praise him over and over (aside from the three assholes, his team, and Yamaguchi). He also isn’t used to people invading his personal space every minute. Every few breaks in between, Wandei would find every inkling chance to touch the blonde. Patience was wearing down bit by bit as Wandei pushed boundaries off the walls.

It pissed Kei, but the fact that Wandei could see through him made the blonde tolerate his actions. He just hopes that it is just a camp thing. And he just hopes that after this maddening ordeal, he would be free from whatever forced friendship is happening between the two of them.

If he only knew that Wandei was overbearing and annoying, Kei could’ve just passed him by as he walked down the street.

It was then at the moment where every single one playing at the court was thrusting knives against each other's necks. Sweat was dripping down a steady stream against the lines of their necks as they disappeared under their shirts, and heavy pants and grunts of frustration seemed to reverberate inside the stuffy gymnasium, eyes fixated upon the yellow-blue star emerging from the air—players struggling to keep the ball alive.

They were close to winning the match. All they needed was to win one set and get one point against the opposing team. They can go home after this, they can finally end this disastrous and exhausting first-year camp. They can finally let their learnings seep and absorb and let it bloom into a technique in an official match.

Koganegawa served the ball and aimed it straight towards Kindaichi who received it with ease. Kei set the ball for a quick, aiming to let Jin slam it over the blockers but unfortunately, the libero from Kakugawa High received it. The setter from Hakusuikan set it towards their main hitter from Oomisaki High. Kei, together with Wandei and Jin, came together for a bunch and jumped together creating a perfect wall to block the spiker. But unfortunately, the spiker aimed for Jin’s finger for a block out.

“Shit,” Kei grumbled to himself as he ran towards the backline to set the ball. Their formation was ruined—he was out of options for players to send the ball to. Maybe, maybe he could just underhand it and send it to the waiting hands of another spiker?

And then, a silver lining appeared in his peripheral vision. A glimpse of the becoming.

His eyes met the lustrous swirl of Wandei’s. A silent plea to let Kei be calm and think thoroughly, to let him breathe for a moment and let the crashing sea be relinquished to calmness once more.

Trust me, yeah?

Despite knowing each other for less than 24 hours, Kei could not help but feel as if they had known each other for years. As if he knew Kei by default, as if they were friends in their past lives. In less than 24 hours, he already has memorized the blueprint of Kei and his entirety of a being.

The blonde, stopping in the middle of the back line, his split step more decisive, his fingers came in contact with the ball and set it high towards the direction of Wandei who was looking at the ball with awe and fascination.

As Wandei got into position, the ball perfectly aligned with his palm as he slammed it down straight the line, smashing through the block of the opposing team.

Silence overruled the court before the telltale whistle of the referee overlooking the match can be heard in the background.

“We won!”

The wild uproar of Kei’s teammates supersedes the power of Kei’s beating heart right now. Aside from the fact that he was extremely lightheaded, he was starting to dissociate now that exhaustion was seeping through every bone and joint in his body.

He could feel that someone was touching him, hugging him, and then laughing loudly beside his ear. Whatever was happening, he could barely feel it and notice it. He could only work on and absorb the fact that he was extremely running low on his battery and he badly wanted to go home already.

“Tsukishima, we won!”

“We can finally go home!”

“Who wants to eat ramen? My treat!”

But before he could process it all, he was already being dragged towards the sidelines to shy away from the people who were celebrating their victory. From unnerving shouts reduced to muffled cries. The only thing he could hear now was his own beating heart.

The next thing he knew was someone snapping their fingers in his line of vision and that was when his reverie was awakened. He blinked multiple times trying to adjust his vision before he came face to face with a concerned expression decorating Wandei’s face.

“You okay there, Tsukki?”

“Fine,” Kei grumbles as he walks past Wandei to grab the towels lined up on the bench. He wipes his forehead and neck and he sees Wandei imitating his actions.

“Wanna go to Sendai tonight? I heard the guys are having ramen for dinner.”

“No thanks. I’m heading straight home after Coach Washijou’s dismissal.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flashed in Wandei’s eyes briefly. “Then I’ll just come with you then!”

Kei sighs in resignation. “Wandei-san, you're not obligated to join me in my leisurely walk. If you want to go with them, I am not stopping you. Besides, why do you even want to hang out with a mediocre player like me?”

“Well, reason number one, for no absolute reason, I just love hanging out with you. I really don't get it but I’d love to be your friend. It's kinda weird even if we only knew each other for a day but you really never had a knack for being buddy-buddy with the other guys.”

Kei looks at Wandei that says “really?” and the latter grimaces to that. But then, Kei sighs and relents. He was tired and arguing further with a guy who has the same inexistent brain cells as Kageyama and Hinata is utterly useless and insensible. 

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Reason number two, you need to level up your game with my help, man! Sometimes, you can be so lazy during games. You're wasting all of your potential.”

“I don't need to level up. I’m still a growing first year, experience can help me improve.”

Even that statement tasted sour on the blonde’s tongue. It didn't feel right saying those words. It felt as if he was back on level 1 again, trying to understand the intricacies behind the motivation of players—trying to understand why are they willing to sacrifice too much of themselves on the sport he had come to hate.

It also felt like it was a betrayal. To whom?

Kei knew very well that if the three were here, beside the blonde, they would look at him with equal parts of disappointment and hurt coloring their eyes. It was as if all the practices they took with them were nothing more than a daydream, a mirage meant to dissipate.

“I’m really proud of you, Kei.”

Kuroo whispers in his ear the evening before they left. Before summer was about to fade away in the dimming horizon of rural Tokyo. It was a hushed moment between the two of them, just two individuals resting their backs against the trunk of the tree at the crest of the hill.

He could feel Kuroo’s pinky a breath away from his own as the blonde closed the distance to intertwine silver with gold. To finally name the turmoil of emotions curling deep above the line of anxiousness threading inside him.

It was Kei’s awakening. No, it was everything to him.

“Thanks, Kuroo-san.” Kei whispered in a way that only the brunette could hear his hushed confession.

“Whatever you say, asshole.” Wandei says with a chuckle as his arm finds its way to the blonde’s shoulders. “I’m still going to bother you with blocking and strategies though.”

Kei sighs for the nth time. “How can someone be so persistent, irritating, and sickeningly optimistic at the same time? Are you even human at this point, Wan-san?”

The two started walking towards the direction of the locker area, presumably to get a change of clothes before heading to the shower cubicles. They walked together alongside each other, Kei tolerating Wandei’s semantics.

“Well, you have got to blame my parents for that!” Wandei laughs wholeheartedly.

“Tell your parents that I am questioning their tactics when it comes to raising a child.”

Wandei playfully shoves Kei’s shoulders. “Rude, Tsukki! That was very rude and mean and everything in between!”

Kei actually grimaces at that. “What are you, five?”

Wandei stuck out a tongue at the blonde. “Eanie meanie Tsukki weanie!”

“For fuck’s sake.” Kei says with disgust as he walks past Wandei to open his lockers to finally get his change of clothes. Just a thick sweater, his underwear, and his joggers as he and Kunimi both went out of the locker area to take a shower quickly. Wandei be damned.

As he finally finished showering and changing his clothes, Wandei was just about to head into one of the stalls as he made eye contact with the blonde.

“Wait for me!”

Wandei didn’t wait for any response while the blonde just rolled his eyes and took his leave with Kunimi in tow.

“Hmm,” Kunimi starts.

“Don't even start,” Kei says sharply.

“I can see that you're friends now,” Kunimi says with a teasing innuendo behind his bored tone. “He even calls you Tsukki. How disgustingly cute.”

“Please don't say that.” Kei says without any hear but his facial expression contorting into something incomprehensible even for Kunimi to figure out.

“Besties. Buddies. Bros.”

“Fuck off, Akira.” Kei says with an accompanying eye roll. “You're the one who's being extremely weird about this whole ordeal.”

“Nah, just curious how it turned out this way. You hated him yesterday, didn't you?”

Kei shakes his head. “During the heat of our practice match, yes. But it didn't matter in the very end.”

Kunimi raised his eyebrow implying to add more details but Kei refuses to give him the satisfaction.

“Dick,” Kunimi mutters under his breath.

“Asshole,” Kei retorted back immediately.

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“You're welcome.”

As they started to get in their parka jackets, Kunimi couldn't satiate his gnawing curiosity so he finally relented.

“No, but seriously, how did you two became friends? I seriously don't get how you, an antisocial, could tolerate him.”

Kei zips his jacket first before answering Kunimi’s question.

“It just happened,” Kei says with a shrug.

Kunumi leveled him with a stare that translated to discontentment but he just sighed and accepted defeat. It's unlike Kei to answer subjectively without facts backing him up.

But the truth is that he just couldn't admit out loud that the presence of Wandei was tolerable at best. He was one of the few people who could reduce Kei’s inner demons into an angel’s choir. One of the few people who could calm the raging seastorm into hushed lulls of the tide against grainy sand.

And the fact that Wandei could see through him clearly, without even Kei admitting anything out loud. He knew that whatever thread was tethered around them, it seemed to intertwine and fill in the seams finding each other in the middle.

It was terrifying knowing that they had known each other for less than a day and they had drawn each other's blueprints to trace and found missing pieces far and few between.

It's unplanned, messy, and rushed and yet Kei found himself bound by Wandei’s side as they walked towards the bus stop.

It's been a week since Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi stopped responding to Kei’s text messages. The latest message that Kei sent to the group chat was two days prior until Kei had found the courage to just finally stop trying and let them figure out their shit on their own.

Even if Kei had fallen down the chasm with his unbidden feelings for the three, he wasn't an idiot to the concept of ghosting.

What's worse is the fact that the three had recently uploaded their get-together in a coffee shop yesterday on their Instagram story without even fucking acknowledging the blonde’s presence in the countryside.

He’d been in a sour mood yesterday and if it permeated today on the court as he practiced blocking the Freak Duo’s quick, well it's not his problem anymore.

He felt victory shining down on him when he blocked their spike again. It was six consecutive times and yet he didn't find it in him to bully or degrade the two.

Hinata was gnashing his teeth like a feral predator while Kageyama looked at him as if he was a constipated asshole. Kei merely looks at them sharply, without any heat in his eyes, as he returns to his original position.

The blonde could feel Yamaguchi’s sharp eyes boring through the back of his head as he prepared for another serve. He knew that nothing escapes Yamaguchi’s 20-20 vision and the impending proposition of a heartfelt talk was still unaccepted as Kei refused to talk to anyone on his team, except to talk about strategies or provide his opinion on their tactics.

He knew that the whole team was worried about him, worried about his robotic and rigid movements as hurriedly exited the club room to be one with solace again. As much as he wanted to voice out his feelings, as much as he wanted these recurring thoughts of hurt to escape the mental cells of prison—the subject and its underlying details were strictly hidden from the public.

While one sees them as a group of volleyball idiots hanging out, their relationship delves deeper than the surface of the wallowing earth.

It pains him that he has no one, not even himself, to give him some tethering advice to pull him back into the reality of it all. To allow and accept peace to finally silence bleak and heady storms.

He misses their unplanned conversations so much. He misses the way their gazes would linger for more than a minute on the screen before breaking into small smiles for him to remember, enabling him to tattoo and mark these memories as his. He misses their reassurances and their teasing remarks and banters. Misses the way their eyes hold the universe as Kei orbits mindlessly, as Kei follows them endlessly.

He was a fool for missing them so much and he was a fool for letting his tears fall as he hurriedly walked down the sidewalk.

As he was about to turn into a corner, he bumped into someone with an oof.

Kei narrows his eyes as he dusts off his uniform jacket. “Watch where you're go—Wandei-san?”

The boy in front of him blinks in surprise as his lips grin widely as he recognizes the blonde immediately.

“Tsukki!”

“It’s Tsukishima,” Kei says.

Wandei refuses to listen. Again. “Tsukki!”

*What are you doing here? I thought that you were finally moving to the States.”

Wandei groans and rolls his eyes in annoyance. Which was a sight that Kei should get used to seeing since he had only seen the man smile and laugh wholeheartedly.

“I was! I really was! My luggage are all packed and shit and then when I arrived at the airport, they said that my visa had a problem and I needed to apply or change or whatever is needed for it to work again. Apparently, my visa would be approved a week from now so here I am, stuck like a poor migrant.” Wandei says as he rests his back on the wall. “There's nothing to do besides watch, play games, eat, and then the horrifying routine starts again.”

Kei blinks the remnants of his tears as he slowly nods at Wandei’s sentiments.

“I am sending my deepest condolences to your sanity, Wan-san.”

“Thanks, Tsukki.” He grins a little before blinking in realization again as he sees the blonde’s uniform.

“You're just coming home from practice?”

“Ah, yes. It's a little later than it usually ends but it's understandable since Nationals are coming up.”

“Were you about to head home?”

Kei blinks and slowly nods for an answer. Suddenly, without any reason, his throat constricted and his chest tightened. As if all his emotions are threatening to spill and topple and ruin the very foundations of his existence. As if the pillar he was holding onto was even crumbling out of reach, the pain and betrayal coating his fingertips.

Kei’s eyebrows scrunched in dissatisfaction, his teeth coming to nibble his lower lip as his fingers found themselves.

Wandei smiles. It's not as bright as Bokuto’s, as obnoxious as Kuroo’s, or as reassuring as Akaashi’s but it’ll do. It catalyzes the dimming box that Kei is trapped in. It was close-lipped, the apples of his cheek ruddy, and his lustrous eyes brought out a glimmer of something inside Kei’s system.

And just like that, he knows that he'll be fine.

“Did you know that I went to Sendai yesterday? Goddamn, their mochi is so sweet! You could've tried one, Tsukki!”

Wandei fills the silence with his stories and Kei is internally glad that the conversations were more than he could bargain for. It's not serious, it's not forced, it's never personal and pushing.

“Is that so, Wan-san? Was it their matcha one?”

Wandei grins and nods excitedly. “Yeah! It was filled with matcha cream topped with matcha powder! It was absolutely delicious!”

“Have you tried ankoya Ekimae’s dorayaki?”

“No!” Wandei shakes his head. “Is the shop famous in Sendai?”

“Not really, no. Tourists rarely come in and out, they usually try Kikufuku. But I can attest that their dorayaki is interesting. Flavor and texture wise.”

“Take me there next time?” Hope is interlaced in Wandei’s tone.

Kei smirks. “You wish.”

When Kei finished eating his dinner and taking a shower, he immediately plopped down on his bed. Fatigue and exhaustion crept in his muscles and bones as he immediately felt his eyelids drooping.

As dreams were starting to appear in the forefront of Kei’s mind, a loud ping could be heard from his phone. A notification. Kei groans, pulling his blanket above his head only to hear the consecutive bells from the devilish speaker of his phone. He abruptly grabbed his phone from his nightstand and notifications flooded Kei’s lockscreen. Most of it is from his Instagram account so he opened the app and he blinked when he saw that Wandei tagged him in his latest story.

@wan.rxxai tagged you in a story

Kei presses the ribbon only to see their silhouettes that the lamppost created. Their tall figures loom as they walk side-by-side on the sidewalk capturing the greenery and the still life of downtown Miyagi.

It's solace and idyllic at the same time and before Kei could even think about it, he reposted the same story on his own account. It doesn't mean anything, just two friends walking, filling the silence of emptiness.

Seconds later, Wandei sent him a direct message.

@wan.rxxai: tsukki!! ure so kind for reposting.

@wan.rxxai: does this mean that we're ultra-mega-clout chasing besties now?

@tsukishima_k: Don’t get used to it.

@tsukishima_k: Absolutely not.

@wan.rxxai: whatever >3<

@tsukishima_k: Ew, kaomoji. What are you, five?

@wan.rxxai: don't question my preferences, you meanie

@wan.rxxai: also, why do you not have any pics on ur account?? what are you, an old man?? >°<

@tsukishima_k: Unlike you, Mr. Popular, I'm a very private person.

@tsukishima_k: Also, it's not like you're faring any better. Your account is a horror in itself.

@wan.rxxai: omg u stalker >.< !!

@wan.rxxai: not my fault that im aesthetically pleasing.

@tsukishima_k: Aesthetic? Please. It's full of promotional photos of yourself. It looks like a collage made by a 3-year-old.

@wan.rxxai: i am hearing jealousy. i am hearing conspiracy against a superstar

@tsukishima_k: You barely have a hundred followers. Stop being so delusional.

@wan.rxxai: MEAN! EVIL! HORRENDOUS PERSON!

@tsukishima_k: What a revolutionary surprise.

Kei exited their conversation to look at the people who had viewed his story already. Usually, they were stories from Spotify, about a song he is currently listening to. But, because of draining practice, his story was now empty except for his recently reposted one. Almost all of the people on his team viewed them and Kei could practically hear their voices scheduled to pester him tomorrow about it.

Until Kei stopped scrolling to zoom in on the three distinguished profile pictures of their Instagram account.

@koukou_bokuto

@keiji.akxxshx

@tetsu.kuroo_

Kei could feel the liquid red, hot rage covering his veins in an instant. His grip on his phone tightened for a minute, his jaw clenching, and he could feel tears threatening to spill, wanting to burst into the dark where no one could question his decisions in life and his pain.

Until someone messaged him privately in his messages. Kei pressed the notification before even registering who it was.

Keiji Akaashi: Hey. How are you?

Kei read the message ribbon repeatedly, his eyes scanning and assessing if there were hidden implications behind the text. If there was even one. But to be honest? Kei was done understanding them, done understanding the game they were playing at. The push-and-pull tangent became a push-and-push situation where Kei was the only one fighting to comprehend the complexity of it all. The blonde standing at the edge of the chasm while the three were laughing on the other side, completely leaving Kei out of their relationship to ponder and suffer silently on his own.

It was as if they were testing Kei. To assess if he was fit for their relationship.

Is long distance even possible to begin with? Are you willing to fight for us?

But the blonde didn't want to fight for them. He didn't want to head into a battle where the guidelines and logistics were unknown. The blonde wants to fight with them, side-by-side, as he figures out the complexity of their relationship.

Even if he knew that his heart would shatter into sharp shards, as long as they were beside him, he would continue to glue back the pieces even if his fingers bled.

Kei decided that the pain was enough for him. If the three were to kick Kei out of their relationship silently, then Kei could easily (a lie) cut them out of his life, out of his existence and forget the summer heat and clinging memories.

Kei blocked Akaashi’s number. And then before he knew it, he blocked Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s too. His tears were falling on his cheeks, hot and heavy and all-encompassingly painful as he tried to gather his courage and pride as an individual once again. That he wasn't soft to begin with. That he was still his same, pessimistic self who fills his glass with doubts and degrading insults.

Before he could even process what he was doing, he immediately went to their group chat, and the string of messages from Kei were to be seen first.

Tsukishima Kei: Hey

Tsukishima Kei: Practice just ended. Can you call me once you're all free?

Tsukishima Kei: Are you all still ignoring me? What did I do wrong?

Tsukishima Kei: Please message me as soon as you can.

Tsukishima Kei: @Akaashi Keiji @Bokuto Koutaro @Kuroo Tetsurou please message me as soon as you read this.

Until bubbles of three dots appeared below Kei’s messages. His heart thumped against his chest, constricting his airflow. He sniffed, he forced air into him as he inhaled through his mouth. His vision is blurry as he read the individual messages from the people he wanted to hear from the past week.

Akaashi Keiji: Kei, please.

Bokuto Koutaro: Shit, Tsukki. It's not what you think it is.

Kuroo Tetsurou: Sunshine, let us explain, yeah?

Fuck all of you. Kei thinks before pressing the Leave option as he throws his phone somewhere. He didn't care if the screen cracked or if it was broken. He was an absolute wreck, a person who never cared about anything until he met them. His sanity, his rationality is slipping out of his fingers as quiet sobs fill the entirety of the dark space.

Maybe he could've let them explain first? Maybe he should've let them explain their side one more time before he broke things off with them. Maybe, maybe, maybe this was all a joke?

Kei’s mind is racing a hundred kilometers per minute, information a clutter inside him, and regrets linger like shadows in the night. Rationality nowhere to be found. Only broken pieces of his heart, emotions laid bare and vulnerable.

Is this the end? Kei asks himself internally as he shoves his face on his pillow as another round of silent cries wrecks through him, throat dry and constricted.

Yes. Yes it is.

The practice next morning was agonizingly slow. As if time is a pendulum of slow motions and transitions. He did the drills with the team with absolute precision, his blocks were on point and steady, the timing of his spikes and his start-up jumps were higher than yesterday.

But Kei knows all too well that his sharp concentration is heavily relied on the fact that whatever the fuck just happened last night, he wants to bury it all under the guise of burning energy and levelling his game up.

Because of the energy permeated within him, it seemed to have affected the people inside the gym as the power in their spikes increased, their serves were sharp, the timing of their blocks were perfect. Even the Freak Duo’s quick is faster than ever. Kei didn't bat an eye when Hinata and Kageyama were both glaring and growling at him on the opposite side of the net.

Soon, before they leave to change for their morning classes, Takeda calls them for a quick team huddle.

As soft-spoken as ever, Takeda starts off his speech with a congratulatory note. Whatever Takeda has said in the introductory part of his speech, Kei didn't find it himself to listen attentively, and instead, he found the exit of the gym more interesting.

It was tempting to leave, really. But Kei doesn't have anything else to keep his head busy aside from studying and listening to his professors.

“On that note, Date Tech offered to have a practice match with us sometime next week. Since Nationals are coming, we won't have any time in late December, so we opted to agree on having the practice match earlier. Remember the strategies that you have been working on and let them bloom in the practice match. Good luck and you're all dismissed.”

A cacophony of “yes, Coach!” can be heard in the background and Kei just blinks, waking himself. He distinctly heard that they were having a practice match against Date Tech. That was all Kei remembers as he stepped outside and walked towards their club room.

Yamaguchi is silent beside him, never wanting to push through Kei’s boundaries when he clearly knows that the blonde is not in the mood. Kei let his hand linger on the small of Yamaguchi’s back a little longer, a little non-verbal assurance that had the greanette smiling.

Kei wishes that he could return the sentiment.

“For your assignment next week, write a 1,000-word essay about the implications of World War II in shaping the history of Japan.”

His classmates groaned at their professor’s announcement while Kei internally basked in that he had an assignment to finish during the weekends. This means that practice will continue even during the duration of weekends and that he has all the nights to avoid thinking of them, to stay away from the range of the abyss.

Kei, on instinct, writes the announcement in his notebook. Letters crisp and neat. Graphite stark against the white of his notebook.

Yes, this is fine. Everything is fine.

He breathes a sigh of relief when the bells ring, an indication of their early dismissal. Kei cleaned up his table, everything in a neat pile in his bag before letting his headphones hang on his neck as he and Yamaguchi walked side by side towards the back exit of their building in which Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi were all waiting for the two.

“No, you don't understand, Bakageyama! One Piece is different from Fairy Tale. One is about pirates and one is about magic! How can you be an idiot when it comes to this?” Hinata exasperatedly says to Idiot Number 2. “Just because they are both popular, it doesn't mean that they are both the same mangas!”

Kageyama scowled at the orange head. His frown became more apparent and his cheeks reddened from embarrassment. From his lack of knowledge about the subject or from Hinata lecturing him about petty story books, Kei doesn't know.

“How am I supposed to know? The books are for kids!”

Hinata looks scandalized and offended at the same time.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know that even 30-year-olds read the damn book! And the same could be said for you! Watching cartoon characters play volleyball! That's more immature!”

Yachi looks like she's about to explode from trying and failing to tone down their arguments. She's teary-eyed and red-faced by the time Yamaguchi and Kei stand in front of the two feral animals who unfortunately identify as humans.

“A-ah, Ka-kageyama-kun and Hi-hinata… sto—” Yachi accidentally bites her tongue in the middle of her interjection.

“Hah?! Excuse me, don't bring that into this argument.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’ll punch you and I’ll personally dig your own grave.”

“If you two idiots could kindly step away from the exit and continue your stupidity elsewhere or else I would truly be the one who would throw you out in the sea where no one could find you and identify you. I’m serious.” Kei glared at them menacingly, not wanting to put up with their shit and their pettiness.

Kei narrowed his gaze to the both of them, eyes stern and serious.

“Get. Out. Of. The. Way.”

Begrudgingly, the two parted ways for Kei, Yamaguchi, and Yachi to pass through. Yamaguchi huffs out a small chuckle while Yachi prays to the deities that she doesn't pass out from the nervousness. Kei is even barely near the club room when he hears the pretentious laugh of Kuroo.

He immediately stops on his feet, Yamaguchi and Yachi looking past him to look at the scene unfolding in front of them.

Daichi and Sugawara welcomed the newcomers who were Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi. Their focus is laser-sharp on whatever the fuck Daichi is telling them. But Kei knows from the tension bleeding in their shoulders that they were only half-listening, providing forced laughter out of their chests as they continued to let Daichi and Sugawara fill in the silence.

Kei felt like he was slapped back into reality, his focus faltering in every second as he felt his chest constrict tightening the knots formed the past week. His eyes widened in a small fraction, subtle as to not cause any apparent attention. His hands found his pockets, gripping his thighs very tight to avoid shaking in frustration, in anger, and in sadness.

It was like he was a little kid again, betrayed by his own kin and words bitter and forgotten on his tongue. He was again a clueless little brat who didn't know the harsh reality of the world revolving around him.

Yamaguchi notices. Of course he will.

Yamaguchi slipped his own hand inside Kei’s pocket, offering more than heat. It helped calm down Kei’s reeling head. It provided only little because he was still shaking, he quickly wanted to get out of this situation.

Why, why, why.

Yamaguchi doesn’t know about their relationship but he knows damn well when Kei is nearing his tipping point, where he would be reduced to being nothing.

It's as if all the worry, the concern, the desperation was all coming back to him. Tremor after tremor. Each crashing wave worse.

Yamaguchi’s grip on him tightens. It tethers Kei back to reality. Kei’s thumb unconsciously rubbed small circles on Yamaguchi’s sliver of skin. Just to feel. Just to breathe.

Kei still has time to prepare, he still has the time to gather himself and act as if it’s another day in the sun. Kei was about to take a step when Hinata and Kageyama barged in between Yachi and Kei. Kei nearly topples to the ground with Yamaguchi but he collects himself before he loses his balance entirely as Yamaguchi holds him close.

He heard Hinata’s annoying and indignant squawk of disbelief.

“Uwah! Kuroo-san, Akaashi-san, Bokuto-san what are you all doing here?”

Then the three simultaneously looked behind them, their eyes landing on the orange head first before locking their gazes with Kei. The blonde felt like he couldn't breathe once again. It's as if someone was choking him, rendering him speechless in front of the three.

His heart, which was messily glued around every piece of shrapnel, broke again.

Tension palpitated in the air, and Bokuto was the one who broke the silence with a forced grin forced as he regarded Hinata with a hug.

“My disciple! Man, I’ve heard a lot of things about you!”

Hinata blushes in embarrassment. “I should've known that the rumors have already spread even in Tokyo.”

“It’s because you're an idiot,” Kageyama says by his side.

“Oh shut it, Bakageyama! You're also an idiot for falling in love at first sight!”

Hinata grins, devilish little punk, as he sticks out his tongue when Kageyama’s cheeks reddened under scrutiny.

“I didn't phrase it like that!”

“Sure you did! ‘Oh, I love him! He was such a nice setter who called me Goody-Two-Shoes!’ How romantic!”

Hinata started to back away and immediately ran towards the staircase when Kageyama went after him fuming.

“Well, that was certainly a conversation,” Sugawara chimes in thoughtfully. “And here I thought Hinata was jealous.”

“Jealous? More like he has blackmail material, Suga-chan.” Kuroo snorts.

Kei’s pulsed drummed underneath his skin when he heard the lilt in Kuroo’s voice.

“We thought that Hinata likes Kageyama and vice versa.” Daichi supplies.

“I don't think that Hinata likes Kageyama-kun like that.” Yachi blabbers beside Kei. “I think that he likes someone else.”

That makes Kei roll his eyes in exasperation. The action didn’t escape from the three’s intense gaze.

“Tsukishima,” Daichi calls out to him and Kei’s eyes follow the figure of his captain. “Care to accompany them for a bit? I’ll throw in an excuse for you when Coach asks. You can be excused from practice today. Apparently, the three had an epiphany and wanted to come to the countryside for no apparent reason.”

“And I find that hard to believe.” Sugawara says with an evil glint behind his gray eyes. Daichi elbows him on his ribs. “Ow.”

“Good luck, Tsukishima.” Daichi said with a small smile as he eyed Yamaguchi and Yachi beside Kei, a cue that practice was about to start in mere minutes.

He could feel Yamaguchi’s pulse thundering inside his pocket still. One last press of Yamaguchi’s thumb and everything went bleak and cold again, anxiousness clinging on his back as the weight of hurt surged once again.

Kei’s gaze returned to the three, and everyone was looking at him expectantly. Waiting for Kei to make the first move, to let him set his own pace but Kei just merely removed his gaze from them as he walked past them towards the gate. He could feel the three following him, a safe distance that shouldn't be crossed or boundaries will crumble down in an instant.

They walked past groups of students, trees and shrubberies, and convenience stores until Kei came to a stop when he spotted a familiar playground near his primary days. Where he first met Yamaguchi.

It’s the same even after all these years, colorful, tiny, and isolated from people. It's well kept except for the fact that it has rusts in between.

Kei spotted a nearby bench, hidden from the twists of metals and slides, and walk towards it, the three falling four steps behind him.

The blonde settles his bag on the bench before he faces the three standing awkwardly in the middle of a playground. Never taking another step forward, closing the distance, and acting what they were before. They all have troubled looks on their faces, their mouth opening and closing and swallowing the words they were about to say.

The blonde wasn't faring any better. His fingers found a way to entangle themselves, his battered nails picking at the loose skin on Kei’s calloused palm, scar prominent against the valleys of imperfection. His throat feels dry, and constricted, and his tongue is heavy inside his mouth. His mind was oddly clear despite the internalization and panic minutes before.

Calm before the storm, he vaguely remembers. This will end disastrous and horrible and sickening and the blonde knows this fact very well because he was on the receiving end of the terror of anxiety and helplessness.

“Tsukki—” Bokuto starts and Kei abruptly cuts it off.

“Please don't call me that.” The tone is sharp and icy and jagged along very edges.

Bokuto flinched, horror displaying in those irises that Kei used to love and adore. No.

“Please, listen to what we have to say, Kei.” Akaashi’s voice was too soft, too calming, too everything that Kei hates.

“Please don't call me that.” Kei says once again. “You lost that privilege when you started ghosting me for what, a week now?”

Kei couldn't help his tone. Couldn't help the fact that he was pointing fingers. His emotions were quickly rising to their boiling point, threatening to come out and explode right here and there. He knew that there was no point in fighting, arguing, but Kei could not help it. He was ignored for a week straight, his thoughts on his own as the three continued to shower themselves with affection.

Kei wasn't even allowed to divulge their secret because it's a sacred oath he meant to keep. He doesn't want to break their trust when things are going too good between the four of them. When their relationship is a blossoming bud in the middle of summer.

“It was supposed to be a surprise. That we were meant to ignore you for a couple of weeks before coming down here in Miyagi to be with you for the entirety of Christmas and New Year.” Kuroo quietly explains.

Kei couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“Couple of weeks?” his tone rising and he could feel his eyes flooding with unshed tears. “What? Are you all even hearing yourself right now? Should I even be thankful for your thoughtfulness?”

“Please just li—”

“What, you were supposed to ignore me for two more weeks? When the past week I have felt nothing more than a nervous wreck, asking myself what was wrong, why are you three ignoring me? And then post freely on Instagram of your daily escapades with each other as if I’m nothing but someone whom you've shared a moment with in summer! Text after text I have felt nothing but concern for the three of you, I felt nothing but hopelessness waiting for your reply and what? All I got was that you were supposed to ignore me up until before Christmas? That's fucked up.” Kei says as his voice breaks in between sentences.

His tears were running freely on his cheeks, his eyebrows scrunched up as his lower lip quivered.

“And then you came here after I decided to delete our conversation and blocked your numbers? What? Feeling guilty and remorseful all of a sudden? That this was no longer a joke or a sweet action but a fucked-up way of ignoring my woes about the three of you?”

Bokuto looks at him as if Kei physically stabbed him. As if he could feel that everything was collapsing in itself. The very core of their relationship—privacy and rushed confessions—is chipping away very slowly. Kei knows that this is the end of their beginning.

“B-but we did it for you, Kei. Because we wanted you to be happy. You know that we love you, right?” Akaashi says, pleading.

“Did you ever think about the implications of your actions before proceeding to this plan? Did you even really think that this is what I wanted? Sure, surprises seem fun but ignoring your boyfriend for one whole week is not!”

“Please don't break anything off because of our stupidity,” Kuroo says. “We'll do better next time. We won't do that to you again. We won't do anything you won't like.”

Kei doesn’t know what to do anymore. He's so torn, so tired, so empty. They were on a shaking boat, the waves crashing and thrashing, waiting for one of them to give up. To finally fall and drown in agony.

“I–I…” Kei exhales wetly. “I don't know anymore.”

And then a sob finally escaped within Kei as he broke down in front of them. Kei shuts his eyes, unwilling to look at them to avoid seeing the pained expressions on their faces. But someone was hugging him, someone took the extra step to reach out to him and finally let him feel.

It was Bokuto curling up to him, letting his head rest on his shoulders as sobs broke out of him while the latter presses his face on Kei’s chest, absorbing every pain and every distress that he feels.

And then Kuroo was embracing Kei from behind as Akaashi kisses Kei on the top of his head again and again and again.

“We love you, Kei.” Akaashi repetitively says in a hushed whisper. “We care about you so much.”

“Give us a chance to make it up to you, yeah, Sweetheart? We’ll do all the things you like and we'll do all the things that you enjoy. Whatever rings your bell, Moonshine.”

“Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki…”

Kei didn’t say anything. He just continued to bask in their post-apocalyptic argument as he reached out to grab Akaashi’s shirt and his other hand clung onto the arms wrapped around his waist. Akaashi intertwined their fingers as Kuroo tightened his hold on Kei’s middle.

He didn't know how all of this escalated. He didn't even know how their predicament was resolved. All he knows is that they were inside Akaashi’s familial home, five blocks away from Kei’s, as they were all cuddled up in Akaashi’s childhood bedroom.

Kei is in the middle as Kuroo is behind Kei, hugging him and kissing close-mouthed on his exposed neck. Never heated, just innocent touches and longing between two lovers. Akaashi is facing Kei, touching his fingers, his face, or kissing every sliver of skin enough to sear the memory inside his mind. Tantalizing blue eyes searching Kei’s honey orbs, for what, Kei doesn't know. He just knows that Akaashi is looking at him intently, filled with love and adoration and sickening twists of positive emotions. Bokuto’s behind Akaashi and yet his arm is outstretched to let Kei’s head rest on his hand. To let the pads of his fingers rub gentle circles on his scalp.

Kei is feeling too much of everything, too much of what he's asking for, all-encompassing, dizzying, unconditional. He feels his tears gather from the corner of his eyes, raw and defenseless against the affections that he is receiving.

Is this even right? After everything that has happened the past week?

Kei doesn’t know. He doesn't want to think about that right now not when Akaashi is in front of him, gaze locked and irises filled with an ocean of countless emotions. Not when Akaashi is staring at him as if he is the answer to his prayers. Not when he feels warm once again.

“Hey,” Akaashi says quietly inside his room.

Too intimate. Kei feels sick, something disgusting pooling inside his stomach. He tampers it down.

“Hey,” Kei croaks and winces after he realizes his throat is sore from all the shouting.

“You don't have to say anything,” Akaashi reassures him. “I’m content with how we are right now. With you inside my room, my bed.”

Kei nods slowly, eyes never leaving Akaashi’s own.

Again, there's that disgusting feeling boiling inside Kei’s stomach. He wasn't sure if it was doubt, fear, or anxiety. Maybe a mix of the three, he doesn't know. Unconsciously, his fingers twitched under Akaashi’s own.

Akaashi notices his discomfort. “You okay?”

Kuroo stops his ministrations, Bokuto’s shoulders seep in with agitation once again.

“Sunshine? Tell us if we're doing anything wrong, okay?” Kuroo’s voice was a breeze alongside the curve of his ear as Kei nodded.

“It’s,” Kei hesitates for a moment. “It’s too much.”

Akaashi looks alarmed for once, worry coloring the iridescent sheen of Akaashi’s blue.

“What’s too much?”

Kei blinked, lips quivering as he released a shaky breath. He wills himself to say it, to be honest and let everything out in the open. Let go.

“You,” Kei says with an exhale. He blinks away his tears, his throat tightening. “All of you at once. I’m not used to it.”

He could feel Kuroo sagging behind him, a breathy laugh and a kiss on his nape.

“Cuddles are just the bare minimum, Blondie.” Kuroo whispers and buries his nose behind Kei’s ear. “You deserve us as much as we deserve your undivided attention and love.”

“Tsukki, you better get used to it ‘cause in the near future, we’ll all afford a place for all of us and a bed big enough for cuddles.”

“Tempting,” Kei deadpans. “More idiots in my life, great.”

“You basically agreed to let us be your idiots,” Bokuto says with a soft laugh.

“Please don't tell me you’re regretting your decision,” Kuroo says in a small voice. Empty confidence and bravado gone in a minute.

Kei blinked and pressed closer to Kuroo. “How could I? You're all making it hard to do that.”

Akaashi smiles, soft, sincere, and too salty because the brunette is letting his tears fall in a steady stream, eyes glossy and yet they never left Kei’s own. Afraid that their blonde might disappear into oblivion once again.

Akaashi doesn’t want to let that happen again.

The brunette presses close to Kei, letting their nose bump, their breaths intermingle as they both bask in their presence, the solace that they found each other. Letting the gold thread tighten its hold on them and pray that it'll never untwine once again.

Akaashi let out a whimper, Kei watches as his partner silently cries and then Kei closed the distance, and took one step closer by pressing their lips together. Soft, chapped, messy like how it's supposed to be. Akaashi tasted like sea salt and mint fairly resembling how a soft wave crashes against the shore and kisses sand. Their lips slotted against each other, longing laced with anxiety. Kei felt so full as he rested his forehead on Akaashi as he deepened his kisses, afraid that all of this must be a fever dream.

And Akaashi read him so well because he pulled away flushed and too soft.

“This isn't a fragment of your imagination, Kei. This is real, we are real,” Akaashi says. “We love you, Sweetheart, and we're sorry for making you feel like you are not a part of this. We'll never be perfect for one another if you're not here with us.”

Kei swallows down his sob as he nods earnestly, all of the sharp edges of raw, negative emotions tampered down as Akaashi leans in and kisses his forehead softly. Letting his lips linger for a moment before whispering:

“I love you.”

“I know.” Kei says almost automatically and the three release a sigh of contentment because they know the message underlying in his statement.

I love you, too.

The next day, Kei begrudgingly opened his eyes early in the morning to prepare for practice. The three were still sleeping soundly, tired from the unthreading of the events yesterday. He didn't have the heart to disturb their rest as he quietly padded down the floor towards the bathroom to prepare and change into his practice wear. Just a simple black shirt and white dri-fit shorts and wore his Karasuno jacket. He fixed a few strands of his hair and washed his face before opening the door and returning to Akaashi’s room.

Kei didn't expect that Kuroo was the first to wake. His eyes still blinking sleepily as his gaze locked onto the blonde when he entered the room. Kuroo made an action using his hands, urging Kei to come closer and the blonde followed without a second thought.

Kei pressed a kiss on Kuroo’s forehead.

“Good morning, Kuroo-san.”

“Morning, Sunshine,” he mumbles. “You going to practice?”

Kei nods solemnly. “I can't skip practice. You know how Dai—”

“You don't have to explain, Kei.” Kuroo hushes him. “Lemme walk you?”

Kei frowns. “It’s a 20-minute walk. You sure you can handle it?”

“You're forgetting the fact that your boyfriend is an athlete. And yes, I’m damn sure. It's our first morning walk together, how romantic is that?” Kuroo says against his lips, his smile widening when he sees the faint blush decorating the blonde’s cheeks.

“Very romantic,” Kei says monotone. “I just need to gag first.”

“Kinky. Now give me a minute to change and wash my face and then we can go.”

It wasn't a minute, in fact. Kei was forced to listen to Kuroo’s five-minute tangent on his morning hair routine. It's tolerable at best but it still pisses Kei off (slightly).

As they walk side by side with Kuroo’s arm around his shoulders, they talk about mundane things and argue about silly comparisons.

“So who's that guy on your story? We never had a chance last night to talk about that.” Kuroo says casually and yet his eyes darted in several directions, a clear indication that he was nervous.

“A friend I made from camp,” Kei says.

Kuroo blinks. “You have friends?”

Kei nods carefully as he expects a bitter turn in their conversation but Kuroo just laughs wholeheartedly.

“Sorry, sorry, it's—I’m just really happy for you. And I never would've expected you to use the term ‘friends’ openly.”

Kei blushes. “Well, he was irritating at first but…”

“But?”

“He's tolerable. And well, he also likes sweets.”

Kuroo chuckles and kisses Kei on the top of his head. “You kids are so adorable.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

“Rude, Moonshine, rude.” Kuroo chided. “But I’m really happy for you, Kei.”

Kei hums as they turn a corner only to spot two vending machines for snacks and beverages. They were about to pass but Kuroo stopped to peruse the glass case filled with a variety of sweet and bitter condiments.

“The cafeteria in Karasuno must be closed since it's a Saturday and I know you're not the type to eat much, but at least bring something to have your fill.”

Kei stood awkwardly in the corner as he let Kuroo choose several snacks and drinks for him, mildly touched by the sentiment of the older man. He didn't have to wait long because Kuroo held out two cans of strawberry milk and a can of spanish latte.

“Put these in your bag. You need carbs and you need caffeine to fuel you for the whole day.”

Kei accepted them and placed the three small cans inside his bag as Kuroo pressed several buttons again and held out two small bags of melon bread and two bags of strawberry milk bread.

“These are mostly snacks but your managers have probably packed bentos for you. Only eat these during your hour breaks.”

Kuroo helped Kei place all of the things he bought inside his bag, carefully tucking away the large portions of bread at the very top in order to avoid deformity.

“There, snacks are all safe and sound.”

“What am I? A grade schooler?” Kei couldn't help but snipe, an unconscious reaction at this point.

Kuroo rolled his eyes and kissed the blonde’s forehead. “Just eat your sweets, Blondie. You need to gain weight and muscles, you know?”

“Aren't you worried about me having cavities?”

“Nope. You're a freak when it comes to hygiene and cleanliness.”

Kei hides his smile as they continue to walk side by side with Kuroo’s fingers intertwining his. They can both see the school gate, and a few people from every sports club entering the premises to practice. Kei’s heart breaks a little because a few minutes from now, he'll be separated from his burning furnace. He still doesn't want to let go yet.

“We'll see each other after your practice ends, hmm? We'll pick you up. You want that, Moonshine?”

Kei’s chest tightened and he pressed the pads of his fingers on Kuroo’s skin harder.

“But what about the others? Aren't you worried that they might have caught on to our relationship?”

“No? Besides, even if they did, we don't have to deny anything. Sure, it may be private, but it doesn't mean that you have to hide everything from them. I know that because of our selfish, unanimous decision, you had a hard time processing your feelings.”

Kei bites his lower lip and lowers his gaze, feeling guilty for his sudden and petty outburst last night.

“I-I’m so—”

“No apologies from you. We made a mistake and your feelings, thoughts, and emotions are all valid. You were all alone here while we three have each other's back to talk whenever we have problems. It was unfair on your part and like you've said, we haven't thought about the consequences of our actions. But just because there's a whole hundred kilometers and more separating us apart, it doesn't mean that we love you less.” Kuroo stops in his tracks to look Kei in the eyes. “Our relationship wouldn't be complete without you in it and we all love you equally, Kei. Remember that, Honeycomb.”

Kei nods teary-eyed, but he's careful not to let his composure slip. He felt his lips quiver and Kuroo was there to rub a soothing line all over his lower lip and he exhales as Kuroo kisses him sweetly. Soft and fluttering like how it always is with Kuroo.

It feels like the burden he is carrying dissipates as he relaxes under Kuroo’s searing caresses.

“Honeycomb is a ridiculous endearment.” Kei says as they parted.

“It suits you, doesn’t it?”

“Do I resemble one?”

“Your eyes remind me of one. Pretty, sweet, deadly.”

“Deadly? Nice to know that I can be the cause of your sudden death one day.”

Kuroo laughs and presses a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Kei, you are the death of me.”

“And I’m absolutely running late thanks to your embarrassing public display of affection.”

“It takes two to tango, Darling. We are both at fault here.”

Practice ended earlier than Kei expected. It was around five now in the afternoon, the setting sun bathing the purpling skies a bruising gold. Everyone was excited to go home and rest for the entire evening since the practice session was hectic and straining against sinuous muscles as they focused on their stamina and core muscles. Kei hated every second of it, his legs wobbly and his battery nearly empty.

It also did not help that Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, and Kageyama were conversing loudly in the corner because of their less-than-average test scores on their quiz yesterday.

“69 percent still counts as a passing grade! Right, Noya-san?”

Nishinoya nods enthusiastically as if that was something to brag about.

“That’s right, Yuu! Even I got 67 percent from Mori-sensei! Learn from your senpais, Kageyama, Hinata!”

Kageyama and Hinata look at the two with sparkling eyes and awe dawning on their expressions. Kei rolled his eyes at the overreaction from the two idiots.

“Getting a grade of nearly 70 percent is not something to brag about, you know?” Ennoshita interjects with a bored tone. “And don't encourage our first years to be idiots like you two.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya visibly freeze from Ennoshita’s lecture. The proud expressions on their faces were gone in an instant.

“Well, at least they passed.” Sugawara says with a shake of his head. “Thank the deities for that.”

“Noya-san and Tanaka-san are so cool!” Hinata exclaims happily. “Do you think we could also do that, Bakageyama?!”

Kageyama nods with determination plastered on his face. “Of course! If they can do it, I can also do it!”

“You should,” Kei says. “Unless you want that incident to happen again last summer camp.”

The whole team laughs as Hinata’s face reddens and Kageyama’s facial expression turns to mild disgust.

“What did you even eat, you idiot? Ugh, now that he mentioned it, I couldn't even get the image out of my head.”

“I don't even know! Ugh, I don't want to ride in Saeko-neesan’s car again. She almost got us killed last time!”

“Don't blame Tanaka-san’s sister for this. You're just a disaster in moving vehicles,” Kei says with an eye roll.

“Oh, shut up, you mean asshole!”

Yamaguchi and Kei headed out first as they both walked towards the gate and there he saw the three waiting for him on the sidewalk wearing casual winter clothes.

Kuroo gives a small wave as he looks so unapologetically foolish in his cheetah-printed sweater and baggy jeans while Akaashi is hidden in his thick woolen scarf, parka jacket and sweatpants. Bokuto is waving enthusiastically as he spotted Kei as he looks absolutely roguish in his bomber jacket and jeans.

They were perfect and beautiful in the setting sun and Kei internally wishes for sceneries like this to unfold as years pass by them.

“Tsukki, you don't have to say anything for me to understand. As long as you're happy and contented, I’m also happy for you.” Yamaguchi says quietly by his side as he bumps their shoulders together lightly.

Kei beams at him as he returns the gesture by intertwining his fingers with Yamaguchi.

“But if they hurt you, I will personally travel all the way to Tokyo using my car and murder them with my ax.” Yamaguchi says menacingly.

Kei laughs out loud at that statement as his eyes twinkled in mirth.

“You don't even have a license yet! And why the hell do you have an ax?”

“Correction, I have a student's license. Regarding the ax, my mother literally made me chip wood for our furnace at home. It was really heavy, you know?”

“Sucks to be you.”

Yamaguchi snickers and releases his hold on Kei as they arrive at the gates.

“Guess I’ll be heading first then? Don't forget to text me all the details, yes?”

Before Kei could even process what he said, Yamaguchi was already walking away from him. Kei blinks as someone encircles an arm around his waist. He looked to his right and he was greeted with Akaashi’s piercing eyes.

“Hey, Kei.” he mumbles softly.

“Hi, Keiji-san.”

“Tsukki!” Bokuto pressed the side of his face on Kei’s shoulder as he stood close to the blonde. “Miss you so much!”

“Really?”

“You weren't there when we woke up!”

“But I’m here now, aren't I?”

Bokuto’s sunny orbs glimmer in delight as he nods eagerly at Kei.

“You are.”

And then lastly, his gaze landed on Kuroo who looked at him as if he hold all the answers to all the questions of the universe. Hazel eyes against golden brown.

“Hey, Honeycomb.”

“Hey, Roosterhead.”

“Mean.”

“I know.”

The four laughed as they walked towards the bus station side by side with the shimmering rays of the setting sun bathing their skin in warmth. Their steps were light, slow, and steady against the cemented pavement.

Akaashi’s hold against him never leaves, a mark yet to sear against the fair complexion of Kei’s skin. Bokuto’s large presence constantly calms the demons that threaten to lurk and escape the cages. Kuroo, a puzzle piece that fills the silence with humor and unrelenting teaseful comments.

The four of them are a perfect harmony in the chaotic orchestra of Kei’s mind. Every note is a flawless press to create a chime of intoxication and vulnerability at the same time as every crescendo a climax to their new beginning.

They made a mistake and yet they did not let their misunderstanding linger for a minute longer. Their relationship was hidden among the prying eyes of the audience and yet they opened the curtains to ease the doubts flooding in every compartment of Kei’s mind.

It was unplanned, how Kei fell for them amid the summer horizon and yet he could not help but feel the delight that they brought him ever since that fateful encounter.

Maybe this isn't the end. Maybe it is the beginning of a new phase in their relationship.

“I love you.”

He doesn't specify who, he doesn't explicitly say who. What's important is that they understood him.