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Chapter Text

Sometimes Hanazawa Teruki wondered why he spent time with these people. He could’ve been friends with anybody. With his status, he could’ve grabbed any passer-by by their sleeve and told them they were friends now, but instead he had chosen this miserable group of people.

Of course, there were many perfectly good reasons to why he was friends with them. They all came from rich families with influential parents, they had more privilege than they knew what to do with and they were all the cream of the crop of Saffron High. Who else would they spend time with? No one else was worth it and even though it was always kind of funny to let some poor social climber think they were about to make it in, the members of their friend group had remained pretty much the same for a while now. They were on the same page, so to say.

They might’ve had similar interests, hangouts and upbringings, but that sure as hell didn’t make them good friends. They just knew that they were going to be seeing each other a lot and networking with people of the same status level was going to be good in the long run. Their group was as thick as thieves and being a part of it was an achievement the people below them could only dream of. Leaving the group would’ve been idiotic. Teruki had a certain image to keep and with these people, it was as easy as breathing.

It was a nice, warm day out and all five of them had gathered into a café at the side of the park near their school. It was known as their hangout and everyone who was anyone visited this place to bask in their glory. Here they had absolute authority. Here they could sit and ridicule the people passing them by. Teruki had removed his uniform jacket and was enjoying the springtime sun. Next to him sat Yokoyama Akemi, the daughter of a famous violinist who had no plans on following her mother’s footsteps. Across from her was Ito Koichi, the only son of a business tycoon and first in line for his rather old father’s heritage. And next to him, currently sharing the same seat, were Matsumoto Mitsuru and Takada Reiko, tightly lip-locked. Their relationship had been decided for them before either of them had been born as a part of a business transaction between their parents and now they were making the most out of it by dating, fighting and cheating on each other in a way that would end up with them in the headlines in a few years.

And then there was Teruki himself. His parents were running their business abroad, moving from country to country so often he didn’t even know where they were currently at. Here he sat, with his supposed friends, bored out of his mind, about to fall off his seat with the way he was slouching. Not that he was looking bad while doing it. Absolutely not. Never in his life would he be caught dead looking bad in public. Teruki always made sure to look his best and the way he was slouching could have been a cover of a teen magazine, his look made out of pure relaxation and cool boredom. He was the only child of a rich family, living on his own at the age of sixteen, enjoying life, making independent decisions and dating whoever he wanted.

His life was good. His life was perfect.

Or it would’ve been, had he not been bored out of his mind.

The current conversation topic held no interest to him. Koichi was talking about some new girl he was seeing and telling the others how he’d taken her out to eat at a restaurant his father’s business owned and how it was the real deal this time. Akemi was laughing at him, telling him that the girl was only seeing him for his money.

“Come on,” Koichi laughed. “Of course she is. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“Agreed,” Akemi said and her smile was as sharp as everything else about her. “With the way you look, no one’s going to date you for your personality.”

Koichi huffed, annoyed.

“Well, we can’t all be like Teru here. I bet he could get anyone to date him if he just fluttered his lashes and gave one of his smiles or whatever.”

Well, at least they were talking about him now. Teruki sat up straighter, throwing an arm over the chair to shoot a smirk at Koichi. Mitsuru and Reiko were still busy with each other, completely oblivious to the world around them.

“Jealous?” Teruki asked.

“You kidding?” Koichi fired back. “I can buy me five girlfriends, you just flash your pearly whites and they’re falling over each other to get to you. How do you do it?”

“Charisma,” he said, lifting a hand to give a lazy pose. A flock of girls passing them by started tittering and waving at him and Teruki shot them a wink. They were practically swooning. Maybe he should pick up one of them?

Akemi snorted derisively at his flirting, her smile bearing a mean glint.

“I bet you couldn’t get just anyone. I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s immune to your charms.”

“There is no such person,” Teruki said, completely sure he was right. He leaned back against the chair and enjoyed the sunlight on his skin, crossing his legs. Every move was precise and practiced, meant to gather looks.

“Oh really?” she asked. “How about we see it, then? We pick you someone and you show us how you do it.”

Mitsuru and Reiko separated with a wet pop and turned their attention to the conversation. Had they been listening through the whole thing? Teruki frowned a little.

“Can we pick anyone?” Mitsuru asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Teruki scoffed. “Sure. If that’s what you want. But I can tell you already, it’s going to be a short challenge.”

“That’s boring,” Reiko said and started applying a fresh layer of lipstick.

“How about we make it a real bet?” Akemi asked and Teruki did not like the way her eyes lit up. He’d gone out with her a few times before ending up in the same circle of friends and she’d been pretty meanspirited with him since. “We pick you a target, you get them to go out with you on a date and they kiss you. Not the other way around, they have to be the one to initiate it. You up for that?”

Her tone implied that she expected Teruki to turn her down. Which was ridiculous, of course. With a premise like that, Teruki would be done in few minutes. He shrugged, indifferent. “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.” At least it would be something to do.

Reiko seemed to have already lost interest in the bet, running her fingers over Mitsuru’s chest to start again with him, but her boyfriend was mildly intrigued and was looking around the park outside, maybe trying to find a suitable victim. Koichi was looking too, but it was Akemi, unsurprisingly, who found the target.

“There!” she shouted, pointing towards the same flock of girls that had passed them a moment ago. They had stopped in front of the café and were looking through the menu, complaining about the price range.

“What, who?” Koichi asked, craning his neck to see better. Next to him, Mitsuru started to chortle.

“That’s perfect!” he laughed, apparently having spotted who Akemi was pointing at.

“Who is it?” Koichi asked, louder this time and Teruki was glad he did. That way he didn’t have to demean himself by feigning interest. All the girls had been shooting glances at him, ranging from shy to outright flirtatious. He could get any of them in a heartbeat. This was already boring.

“It’s the one in Peppermint High uniform,” Akemi said, smiling like a cat with a canary.

Ah. Teruki had dated a few Peppermint High girls before. He knew their uniform. But none of the girls were wearing it. He frowned a little and sat up. Yes, there was no one in that group wearing the traditional colors of Peppermint High.

“I don’t see her,” he said dryly.

“Who said anything about a her?” Akemi asked and then it dawned on Teruki. The gender-neutral terms from before should’ve clued him in on Akemi’s intentions from the start.

And now that he knew what he was looking for, Teruki spotted him. Slowly making his way across the street was a boy in a dark blue high school uniform with a bag over his shoulder. He had black hair and a stiff demeanor.

“What?” Teruki said skeptically, turning to look at Akemi. “A guy? Really?”

She was smiling from ear to ear. “It’s got to be a challenge.”

Teruki turned back to look at him.

“What if he’s not into guys?”

“A challenge!” she cried out.

Teruki frowned. The problem wasn’t that he wasn’t into guys. He was and had always been. He’d known that the gender of his partner was pretty low on his list of priorities when it came to dating for a long time. He’d just learned quickly that some relationships were more acceptable in the public eye than others. So he’d only ever dated girls. Teruki scoffed and got up.

The problem wasn’t that it was a guy.

The problem was that the guy looked like a complete nobody.

“Ugh,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t have his friends thinking he wasn’t able to. “Fine. Watch and learn, guys. This is how it’s done.”

The guy had made his way past the girls by now, meandering towards an unknown destination. Teruki started making his way towards him. He looked to be around Teruki’s age, a little shorter than him and he kind of looked like a strong gust of wind could knock him over, even though he was by no means a skinny guy. Something about his stance just made him look like a total pushover. Or maybe it was his haircut. Who in their right minds had a bowl cut anymore? How embarrassing. You had to be a K-pop star to pull that off and this guy clearly wasn’t. Teruki could see now why Akemi had chosen him.

Well, the thing about losers was that they were desperate for attention. And that made them easy targets.

“Hey, wait up!” he called, putting on his most friendly, his most approachable voice, donning his mask of good nature.

The girls turned to look at him, clearly hoping he was calling to them. Teruki didn’t stop to spare them a glance. Sure, he would’ve liked his target to be one of them, they all looked like they could kiss better than this bowl cut guy. But this wasn’t about what he wanted.

The guy didn’t stop. He didn’t even look like he’d heard Teruki’s voice.

Grinding his teeth together, hardly believing this guy was making him run for him, Teruki picked up his pace to catch up with him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you,” Teruki said, his voice slipping and revealing the annoyance underneath. That wouldn’t do, not at all. He smoothed his features and softened his voice to call: “I wanted to have a word with you, if that’s okay.”

This time he was heard and the guy stopped, turning to look at Teruki over his shoulder. He had a real plain face, nothing remarkable about it. Hooded eyes, round cheeks and a bored expression. A guy like that could easily disappear into a crowd. Teruki would’ve probably never even noticed him had Akemi not pointed him out in the first place. What a bother. Teruki swallowed up a sigh. Of course she’d pick someone like this. She just wanted to watch him squirm.

The guy remained like that, body turned away stiffly, eyeing Teruki like he was still trying to decide whether he was talking to him or not. Teruki cut the distance between them, walking up to im and giving him his most dazzling smile.

The guy blinked slowly.

There were a few ways he could go about this, Teruki thought. Turning to give a look at his friends, who were staring openly at him and Bowl Cut from the café porch, Teruki’s smile gained some edge. They were too far away to hear whatever he said, so if he wanted to, he could take the easy way out and tell this guy that he was having a bet with his friends and just ask him to kiss him. Teruki could even pay him. It would be an easy deal, one and done and he’d never have to see this guy again.

But that would be cheating. Teruki was looking this loser into his dull, brown eyes, and smiling. This guy looked like he’d never kissed anyone in his life. Hell, he looked like a guy who, after Teruki was done with him, would never kiss anyone again either.

Why cheat, when Akemi had given him the easiest target on earth? He could play with this a little longer.

The guy frowned a little, giving Teruki a questioning look.

“Hello?” he said, framing it like a question. “Can I help you?”

Teruki put one hand on his hip and cocked it to the side. He was gracing this guy with one of his best smiles, carefully practiced to perfection and the guy should’ve been grateful for it. No one was ever going to look at him the same way again. Teruki tossed his head back to remove hair from his eyes and when he did, he could see the girls in front of the café starting to whisper to each other.

“I saw you walking by while I was sitting with my friends,” he said pointing a thumb behind them. “I thought maybe you’d want to come hang out with us.”

Maybe he was overdoing it a little, putting too much warmth into his voice. Some of the girls in the past had seen through the act and called him out on it. But Teruki knew it wouldn’t matter. It hadn’t before. He knew his status, knew that he was oozing charisma and there was no way this guy would –

“Sorry, I can’t,” he said. His voice was a shocking monotone that hardly even reached over the noise of the traffic and the tittering of the girls.

“What?”

“I can’t. I need to go to work.”

Work? Teruki sized the guy up again. Yeah, he was definitely dressed in a Peppermint High uniform, not some college get up. He was pretty young to have a job, Teruki thought. Maybe it was a family business?

It didn’t matter. Teruki managed to keep his sneer at bay and the smile in place when he asked: “Is your work really more important than hanging out with friends?”

“We’re not friends.”

Wow. That was… Okay, wow. Teruki stared at the guy, this clear case of a shut-in who looked like he saw way too little sunlight in his life and talked to maybe his mom and no one else. He was offering this guy a way to get into his circle of friends, to a group that was clearly above his status. The guy should’ve been elated! Sure, the offer may have been dishonest but he didn’t know that! This guy looked like he could count his friends with the fingers of his one hand and still have digits left to spare. What the hell was his problem?

Teruki hid his grimace with well-practiced ease.

“Ah, yeah. I suppose that’s true. But I’d like to be.”

Hah. Finally, a reaction out of him. The guy’s eyes grew a little larger, but only a little. What looked like either a permanent look of boredom or tiredness had lifted slightly to reveal… something. Maybe some watered-down excitement? Teruki couldn’t tell, and in all honesty, he didn’t even care. If it got him results, then…

“Really?” he asked.

Easy prey.

“Sure!” Teruki said. “But since you’re busy with work…” He left the sentence hanging, seeing if the guy would finish it for him.

He didn’t. He was just staring at Teruki like he expected something out of him. Well, Teruki had had shy girlfriends before, socially awkward little things who needed a bit more guidance than the others. He softened his smile accordingly, to appear as unthreatening as possible.

“So maybe you could like, give me your phone number and we could call sometime?”

Perfect. With just a pinch of uncertainty and shyness, Teruki painted the picture of a blushing, awkward guy and it seemed to do the trick. Bowl Cut was nodding enthusiastically now, pulling out his phone.

Teruki reached for it automatically.

“Let me just put my number on yours, so you can call me after work,” he insisted, taking the offered phone and tapping his number to it. Saving his digits under the name of Hanazawa Teruki, he handed the phone back to him. He couldn’t scare off the shy guy with too intimidating actions, so for now, it would have to do. Slow and steady won the race, they said, but Teruki had always found it kind of boring. Well, Akemi had said it needed to be a challenge, right?

The guy took his phone back, cradling it in his hands like it was some untold treasure he’d just stumbled upon. He was reading the number, or maybe Teruki’s name, his lips moving voicelessly in time with the letters. Then he looked up and smiled. It was a pitiful little thing, barely a lift of his lips. There didn’t seem to be much feeling behind it, but it was a start.

“Call me after work?” Teruki said, voice all soft and pleading, turning his smile into a small waver.

“It was nice to meet you, Hanazawa,” the guy said, the name uncertain and carefully pronounced when he spoke it.

“Likewise,” Teruki said and turned to let the guy go. When he was sure he wasn’t looking anymore, his smile morphed into an extremely smug look of satisfaction. He walked back to the café where his friends were staring at him. They looked to be bursting at their seams.

“What the hell was that?” Reiko asked, arms crossed in clear disappointment. “That was nothing!”

“Yeah, I kind of expected more,” Koichi agreed.

“Can’t do it?” Akemi said. She was the only one who looked pleased with the outcome.

“What?” Teruki asked. “You thought I was going to half-ass this? No, we’re going to do this right. I’m going to get that guy to date me and then he’s going to kiss me. He’s going to call me after his work and then we’re going to go from there.”

“Nice!” Koichi said. The others didn’t look as convinced. Reiko turned back to Mitsuru on his lap and they continued from where they’d left off before. Akemi was frowning a little, her smile forgotten somewhere. That in itself was enough to make Teruki smile wider. He smirked at her before sitting back down.

It didn’t dawn on him that he hadn’t even asked the guy’s name until he was back home that evening. And the fact that he’d forgotten to get his number in return for his own came to him the next morning when he realized that the guy hadn’t called him like he’d asked.

Chapter Text

Okay. Okay, he was a little mad.

No. That was an understatement. Teruki was furious when he made his way to school the day after his encounter with the bowl cut guy. Why the hell had he not called? Was that loser really so shy that he didn’t even have the guts to pick up the phone and call a person who clearly had asked him to do so? That he couldn’t even send a single text? Apparently so, since there’d been nothing but silence from him since yesterday.

And Teruki was pissed. Who did he think he was? A guy like Teruki would never show interest in a guy with a bowl cut and a fish-eyed stare. The guy should’ve been counting his lucky stars that he’d even been acknowledged.

It got even worse at school. Koichi was the first to run into Teruki and the first thing that came out of his mouth was: “So how’d the call go? You got a date set?”

Like summoned out of the depths of hell itself, Akemi appeared next to him, the shit-eating grin already in place.

“Yeah,” she said. “Did you make any plans for today?”

What could he tell them? Nothing, that was what. Teruki smiled widely, like smugness incarnate.

“Sure thing,” he said. “I’m meeting him after school today, walking him home. I’ll convince him to get a coffee with me. We’ll be done by the end of the day.”

“Ooh. Teru’s getting confident.”

When had Reiko gotten there? Teruki lifted a brow. Apparently his misery was a beacon to these vultures. Not that he’d let his friends know about his problem. They’d laugh their asses off at his failure.

It wasn’t his fault. It was Bowl Cut’s. And he’d better have a good explanation for this. Nothing short of his grandmother kicking the bucket was going to cut it here.

Teruki had no other choice. He needed to find the guy himself, apparently, since he had no idea how to contact him otherwise. Teruki had nothing, not the guy’s name, not his number, not a clue where he lived. The only thing he did know was that he went to Peppermint High and had a job. That was it. Bowl Cut was forcing his hand in this matter.

But there was no admitting defeat now. His friends thought things were going swimmingly, and they’d be hungry for news soon. So they made plans to take the guy to their café near the park. Teruki’s friends would go there ahead of him to hang out while Teruki brought him there on their date. When the kiss happened, his friends would have the front row seats to see it.

A bulletproof plan, that wouldn’t take long to execute. And by the end of the day, Teruki would be free of his bet and his reputation would be intact.

The only hitch was that he didn’t have Bowl Cut here with him. And that was a big problem. He needed to find him as soon as possible and make sure that his friends would never find out that there had been a problem to begin with. So the moment the last bell rang, Teruki was out and on his way to Peppermint High. Lucky for him, it was only a short walk away. Fifteen minutes, if he hurried.

Of course, the problem was that the days ended at the same time in both schools and fifteen minutes was a long time for a friendless loser to hang around after school. By the time Teruki made it to Peppermint High, the schoolyard was empty. Everyone had either gone home already or was at their after-school clubs. Teruki ground his teeth together with enough force to make his jaw ache. Stupid Bowl Cut making a fool out of him.

He could hear someone shouting. Multiple people, actually. He frowned, looking around. Somewhere close by people were chanting: “Fight on, fight on, FIGHT ON,” and it was getting louder.

With barely enough time to dodge, Teruki jumped out of the way as a group of very muscular high schoolers ran past him.

“Watch where you’re going!” he shouted and to his horror, the sweaty, muscular guys stopped and turned to look at him, still jogging in place.

“Ah, sorry,” one of them, looking to be the leader, said. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Well, in the future, I’d suggest you –” Teruki swallowed his words as he recognized one of the joggers. Maybe his luck was turning after all, because he knew that hair.

Bowl Cut’s movements were far more sluggish than the bigger and better members of his club, already looking half way defeated even though they hadn’t left the schoolyard yet. Teruki was a little surprised to see him there at all, clearly part of the same club. He had not struck Teruki as the athletic type. Still didn’t, to be honest. He looked about ready to pass out.

“Ah!” Teruki said with forced glee. “There you are! I was hoping I’d run into you. Why didn’t you call me yesterday?”

The club members looked at each other, trying to find out who he was addressing, until their eyes eventually landed on Bowl Cut. He didn’t look like he was even registering what was happening around him anymore, Teruki realized with rising temper. Had he not heard a word he said?

“Kageyama,” the leader said, making Bowl Cut almost trip on his feet as he stopped jogging to look up at him. “Is this your friend?”

Bowl Cut turned to look at Teruki with empty eyes and there was no recognition there. For a second Teruki felt like he was standing on nothing but air. How could he not remember Teruki? Then, slowly, Bowl Cut’s eyes grew larger and his mouth opened a little and Teruki felt relief.

“Oh,” he said. “It’s you. Hello.”

And that was it. That was all he said. Teruki was really struggling to keep his kindheartedly neutral smile in place now.

“Ah,” he started, “you didn’t call me yesterday. Did you forget?”

Bowl Cut stared at him for a beat, before looking down.

“…I did,” he said carefully and Teruki realized that he was a terrible liar. He bit his teeth together, deciding to keep from mentioning it.

“Well, that’s… that’s too bad.”

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry. He didn’t sound much like anything. The muscular guys were still jogging where they stood, following the exchange with clear interest. Teruki bit his teeth together and forced his body to relax. He lifted his hands up and closed his eyes as if in surrender and chuckled a little, just enough to seem like it was no big deal.

“I kind of assumed that was the case. I was a little hurt, not hearing from you all night though.”

The joggers’ eyes were all on him, gauging him out.

“I’m sorry,” Bowl Cut repeated with just as much conviction as before. He didn’t offer anything more.

Alright. So this was going to require a little more work from Teruki’s part, then. It was annoying, but fine. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it. Some girls had been shy and hadn’t called him when he’d asked. Usually he’d just let it be, move on and find someone else, but there was more riding on the success of this relationship.

“How about we hang out today instead?” he suggested, leaning in closer and offering Bowl Cut an open smile. “I’d love to spend some more time with you. Or do you have work again?”

“No, not today,” Bowl Cut said.

Teruki waited him to continue. But he didn’t. The other club members were like watchful hawks hovering over them, watching Teruki’s every movement. He had a feeling he should not cross them. But the leader was smiling. Smiling really wide, actually.

“How about it, Kageyama? If you want to, you can go. We won’t hold it against you. It’s good to let your muscles rest every now and then.” The other members were agreeing loudly with their leader, cheering at Bowl Cut. “As long as you don’t make a habit out of it.”

“President Musashi,” Bowl Cut said, staring up at the guy with dull eyes. Something shifted, Bowl Cut’s eyes twitched and his expression moved slightly. It wasn’t enough to make it look like much had changed, but the leader’s smile softened. “Thank you,” Bowl Cut said.

“No problem, Kageyama. You can tell us all about it afterwards!”

The whole club seemed really invested in this. They were smiling and cheering before continuing their jog, leaving Teruki alone with Bowl Cut – Kageyama, apparently. Their investment could prove to be a problem. Overprotective big brothers sometimes caused Teruki some trouble, especially if he’d broken their sister’s little heart. And this club looked like it was filled with nothing but well-meaning big brother types. Big brother types, who looked like they could and would pummel Teruki to a pulp if he did something to their smallest and weakest member.

That could be a problem. But Teruki would cross that bridge once he got there. Now he had more important things to worry about.

“Why don’t you go ahead and change then, Kageyama,” Teruki encouraged him. “I’ll wait for you out here.”

Bowl Cut nodded and his face was back to that expressionless look it’d had before, with nothing there to read. Teruki kept the smile on just long enough for him to disappear back to his school to change. Dropping it, he dug out his phone to find it flooded with messages from his friends, all boiling down to pretty much the same thing.

Where are you?

Teruki sneered and tapped out an answer. Just found Kageyama, he wrote. We’ll be there in ten. Calm down.

Fifteen minutes later Bowl Cut returned and Teruki slipped back into his role. He smiled and suggested they go grab a coffee together and Bowl Cut nodded his consent easily enough. All according to plan. Teruki was going to turn this around to a victory yet.

The first thing Teruki did was ask for his number.

The walk to the café went alright, all things considered. Bowl Cut wasn’t much of a talker. Not that he’d expected anything else. A shy guy like that wasn’t going to be leading the conversation. So Teruki kept the talk alive by telling him about himself. Just to get him to know who he was dealing with.

And then it was time to move into the compliments. Nothing endeared people to Teruki like a well-placed compliment.

“So, you’re into running, Kageyama?” he asked. “That’s amazing. You can really tell that you’ve been working out.”

Bowl Cut looked at Teruki and his expression didn’t shift one bit. It was like holding an eye contact with a dead fish.

“Not really,” he said and Teruki was left wondering if he meant that no, he wasn’t really into running, or that he didn’t think his workout was really showing.

No matter. Teruki was going to bulldoze through this.

“Have you been running for a long time?” Obviously not, he’d looked like he was dying after maybe five minutes of jogging.

“No.”

“So you just started? That’s so cool. I’m sure you could run a marathon soon.”

Ha! There it was. Bowl Cut was smiling again, but it was that same infuriating little thing that didn’t even look genuine with how small it was. If Teruki hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t even have seen it.

“You have a really nice smile,” he said, leaning a little closer and fluttering his lashes.

The only response he got to it was the smile vanishing and Bowl Cut turning his attention away. Teruki ground his teeth together.

After a way too long pause Bowl Cut said: “Thank you, Hanazawa.” And then there was silence.

They arrived at the café fifteen minutes later and Teruki held the door open for him. Bowl Cut didn’t even seem to notice.

In the far corner of the café, Teruki spotted his friends in wait. Mitsuru and Reiko were sitting at the opposite sides of their table, arguing loudly over something, but Koichi and Akemi noticed Teruki right as he entered. Koichi’s look shouted a loud and clear: “Where the hell have you been?” while Akemi’s was a little harder to read. The smugness behind her eyes made Teruki highly uncomfortable.

“Here, Kageyama,” he said, pulling out a chair for him to sit on. He chose a spot on the other side of the café, where his friends could easily see everything, but couldn’t hear them over the chatter of the other customers.

Bowl Cut was looking around, his eyes a little larger than before, going from the drapes in the windows to the other patrons and for a moment Teruki worried he was going to notice his friends sitting in their own booth, but Bowl Cut’s eyes just glided over them without recognition. Not a very observant person, was he?

“I’ll go get us drinks. Do you drink coffee, Kageyama?”

“No. It makes my stomach hurt.”

“Tea it is, then!” Teruki decided and left to get them their drinks. He got them both teas and two cupcakes to bribe Bowl Cut with. Sitting down across from him, Teruki didn’t have to look at his friends to know they were staring. So he set down his offerings before reaching for Bowl Cut’s forehead and brushing some hair out of the way.

He did not get the reaction he’d wanted. Bowl Cut flinched a little, pulling back from the touch, looking at Teruki with wide eyes.

Teruki laughed lightly, pulling back. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “You just have such pretty eyes. I wanted to see them. I should have asked first.” He leaned over the table, resting his face on his hand.

“Oh,” Bowl Cut said simply before grabbing his tea and taking a sip out of it. “It’s alright.” He wasn’t looking at Teruki.

Damn. This might be a little harder than Teruki had thought. Maybe Bowl Cut just wasn’t into guys. That would be bad. Teruki wasn’t going to admit defeat yet, though. He reached with his free hand, brushing his fingers carefully against the Bowl Cut’s. The guy stiffened a little, but didn’t pull his hand away. So Teruki grew a little bolder and rubbed his fingers on his, drawing careful, shallow lines on them.

Bowl Cut had weird bumps on his hand. Teruki looked down to study them closer only to realize that he was looking at scars. There were multiple old scars across the backs of his hands, going all the way to his wrists and disappearing under the sleeves.

Kageyama sat stock still, like frozen solid and when Teruki lifted his eyes from his hands, he could see the look of a cornered animal.

Teruki smiled and fought to keep it soft as if nothing at all was amiss.

“Those are some nasty looking scars,” he said, keeping his tone light like they were talking about the weather. “What happened?”

Kageyama looked like he was about to bolt. Teruki ground his teeth together to keep from saying anything more.

“It was,” Kageyama started and looked away. “A cat.”

Bullshit. No way just getting scratched by a cat was going to leave scars that lasted. Teruki kept his hand on Kageyama’s knowing full well that if he let go, Kageyama would be out of his seat and out of the café on the same second. He ran his fingers over the back of his hand and curled them on the underside, touching his palm. The scars continued there as well.

“Must’ve been some cat then!” Teruki said and laughed. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Slowly, very slowly Kageyama pulled his hand free from under Teruki’s and tucked it beyond reach under the table. Teruki could see him twisting them together on his lap. There was a look to his eyes, a wide-eyed edge that made it look like he was considering making a run for it. Like he was about to walk out through the door without a backwards glance.

Not good. Teruki took a look at his friends from the corner of his eye. Akemi was texting furiously, Koichi looked bored and Mitsuru and Reiko’s fight looked like it had reached its peak and now the two of them were sulking.

They were getting bored already.

Fine. Kageyama didn’t like his “cat scratches” being touched. That was fine! Teruki knew how to be charming without physical contact.

He smiled, fighting to keep it soft instead of the vindictive smirk that was threatening to break free. He wasn’t going to lose because of this guy! Teruki needed to lighten the mood, make sure Bowl Cut was feeling comfortable and that he’d know he was feeling comfortable because of Teruki.

“So a funny thing happened today,” he started. It was easy to talk. With the life he was living, Teruki would always have enough to talk about. So he went with his usual date dialogue. Funny, light conversation topics that allowed him to show his humorous side.

And it was working. As he talked, Bowl Cut relaxed a little. Slowly his shoulders went down by notches and his eyes lost their edge, his expression watering back down into dull boredom. Better that way, Teruki supposed, than to have him on the edge of running.

God. That would’ve been so embarrassing. The others wouldn’t have let him live that one down for a long while.

Bowl Cut seemed most interested when Teruki mentioned about being in his school’s soccer team. He didn’t give much input to the rather one-sided conversation Teruki was keeping alive by himself, but he brightened just a little when Teruki mentioned the sports. He supposed the guy was interested in getting fit, considering the club he’d joined. So Teruki started talking about that.

“I joined the Body Improvement club two months ago,” Bowl Cut told him, unprompted. He mulled over the words for a moment, looking like he was swallowing them down as soon as they appeared in his head. “I’ve never been… athletic. Reigen said it would – “ And then he didn’t say anything more. He sat completely still for way too long of a moment and Teruki wondered if he was going to continue the thought.

“So, you want to get buff, huh?” he prompted.

Bowl Cut looked down.

“I guess,” he said slowly. Teruki could see him opening and closing his hands. “I want to be… stronger.”

A wimpy guy like him? No wonder. Teruki bet a lot of guys had picked on him. Teruki swallowed a chuckle. A bit of muscle wasn’t going to change that.

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Maybe you could give me some pointers. We could go run together sometime.”

Bowl Cut was staring at him. Staring right through him, it felt like. And Teruki did his best to answer that look with a steady stare of his own. Looking closer, he could see the guy was thinking about something, slow gears turning somewhere under that embarrassing haircut of his.

“What’s on your mind, Kageyama?” Teruki asked, resting his elbow on the table, his chin on his hand. He offered the guy an inquisitive smile, well-meaning and interested, his eyes full of warmth that ought to warm up just about anyone.

No such luck with Bowl Cut, it seemed. His hands were twisting under the table again, eyes wandering to look away, discomfort appearing out of somewhere, uninvited and unnecessary. Bowl Cut’s cupcake remained untouched.

“Why did you ask me to spend time with you?” he asked.

“Huh?” He hadn’t expected a question like that. It was the first one Bowl Cut had initiated himself. “Well, the moment I saw you, I knew you were someone I wanted to get to know better.”

Bowl Cut hummed quietly, eyeing his cupcake like he was planning on absorbing it instead of eating it like a normal person. When he lifted his eyes up again, there was a slight crease between his brows.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Teruki faltered a bit. What the hell did this guy mean was he sure? Of course he was sure, that was why he’d said it.

But that wasn’t really true, was it? And with the way Kageyama was looking at Teruki, he could almost feel the doubt crawling through him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Teruki asked instead of voicing his thoughts, pulling back a little and lifting the hand he’d leaned his head against into air and waving it around. “I mean, why would I be here if I didn’t want to spend time with you?”

“I suppose,” Kageyama agreed. “You just don’t seem like you’re having a good time. Maybe we should stop.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Kageyama looked Teruki in the eye, meeting his look with a stable one of his own.

“I don’t think you really want to spend time with me. It’s okay. I understand. I’ll leave now.”

No! He couldn’t leave! Teruki’s eyes flew to his friends. Only Akemi was really watching, the others busy with their own things. Teruki couldn’t let Kageyama leave! He was standing up already! Teruki reached his hand forward, but Kageyama flinched the moment Teruki’s fingers grazed his. He pulled back, lifting his hands up to his chest and looked away.

And just like that he was gone.

Out through the door and away like he’d never been there to begin with.

Teruki could feel four pairs of eyes on him now and cold sweat was rising at the back of his neck. For a moment, all he could do was sit there in shock.

What had gone wrong?

He needed to do emergency ego maintenance.

Teruki hid his discomfort expertly under another mask, this one of pure confidence and smug satisfaction. Despite the fact that Kageyama had left in such a hurry, looking every bit as full of uneasiness as he had, Teruki stood up with the air of a guy who had gotten exactly what he wanted, and sauntered lazily to the table of his friends.

“Well?” he said. “What do you think?”

Mitsuru spat out a short laugh. “What do I think?” he repeated.

“That was probably the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” Reiko said and at least the two of them were agreeing on something again.

“Did you really just scare off the loser?” Akemi asked and she sounded like she was having the time of her life, her smile revealing perfect teeth. “What did you do? You get tired of losing the bet already?”

Teruki pulled himself a chair and fell down on it with practiced ease, running a hand through his hair to mask how absolutely infuriated he was with this whole situation.

“It’s all part of the long con,” he said. “Come on. Have you guys ever actually tried to date a shy guy? I can guarantee you’d try to move too fast and lose them like immediately. He’ll be back.”

“Oh, I think he won’t,” Akemi said.

Teruki had the feeling she was right. But he wasn’t going to admit anything and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let go of his smirk.

“That guy’s such a sad case,” he drawled. “You think he has any friends outside of this? I’ll have him eating from my hand by the end of the week and that’s a promise.”

“So, what’s he like, anyway?" Koichi asked.

“Pfft,” Akemi said. “Seems like a pretty milquetoast kind of guy.”

“A total loser,” Teruki agreed. Hm. He could use this. Guide the conversation away from him. He leaned over the table towards them. “Did you see? He actually has a ton of scars on his hands.”

“What, really?” Reiko asked, looking from Akemi to Teruki. “You think… he did that to himself?”

“I mean, pretty likely,” Teruki said. “I asked about them and he said they’re from a cat.”

“Geez,” Koichi said. “Maybe we shouldn’t play around with a guy like that. He might be unstable.”

“Shut up, Koichi,” Akemi said. “Teru made his bet, he’s going to finish it.” She turned to look at him. “Right? Or do you want to admit defeat now?”

“As if!” Teruki said. Akemi wouldn’t know about charm if it bit her in the ass. She went with looks alone and never bothered to put on a good show to get what she wanted. Someone like her, a person who just waited for everyone else to fall to her whims instead of actually getting who she wanted had no right to criticize Teruki. “You’re just salty I’m putting this much thought into this,” he said and leaned back to cross his arms over his chest. “You thought I was going to rush into this, but I’m actually making a show out of it and you feel threatened. Poor Akemi.”

Reiko giggled and Akemi’s look soured.

“You don’t want to admit you’re losing?” Akemi said, her tone noticeably colder. “Fine. Keep going, then. We’ll see what happens.”

An easy victory. Teruki’s smug smile was a little easier to hold onto.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s the point of the bet, right?”

She rolled her eyes.

Kageyama wasn’t going to be as easy of a target as Teruki had thought he was, though. If he was going to be taking this seriously, he needed to start taking him seriously as well. So. Rule number one. No talking about his weird scars. Fine. He could do that. He didn’t particularly want to talk about them anyway. Rule number two, no touching. Not yet anyway.

The thing that kind of got under his skin, though, was the fact that Kageyama had taken one look at him and been able to tell that Teruki didn’t really want to spend time with him. That could be a problem.

Maybe it was just the public place. Maybe that was what made him uncomfortable and made him think that it was Teruki who was at a fault here. Teruki didn’t believe for one second that Kageyama had actually seen through him. That wasn’t possible and that’s all there was to it. Something needed to change, though.

“You know, he had the most awful dead fish stare I’ve ever seen on anyone,” he said.

“What? No way, I didn’t see,” Reiko said.

“Yeah. I could keep talking and talking and he’d just sit there, like,” Teruki made a face, pulling his lips down, hunching his shoulder, “this. You think someone like that is going to be a hard deal? In your dreams. Shows just how much you know.”

He was going to have to do some background work before he could bring Kageyama in front of his friends. Seemed like it was going to require a far more delicate of a touch than he’d assumed.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t pull it off. It was just going to be boring.

Time to bring out the big guns, he supposed.

”I guess I’ll be bringing him over to my place, then,” he said, groaned like it was a great admittance of defeat from his part.

He rarely brought people around his house. There was too much riding on this to go half-assed, though.

”Remember, if the kiss happens and no one’s there to see it, it doesn’t count!” Akemi said.

”You don’t have to remind me,” Teruki said. ”Trust me, when it happens, you’ll be there.”

At least he had something he hadn’t had last time. He had Kageyama’s number, which already gave him a better position to move from. The moment he got home, he started planning out what he was going to say. Kageyama didn’t seem like a patient guy from the way he’d just ditched him back there, so Teruki wasn’t sure how many chances he was going to get.

He didn’t like calling? Fine. Teruki was going to send him a text. And that text had better be perfect.

Hey, the message said. I wanted to say that I’m really sorry about how things went today. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know I can be a little forward sometimes. I hope you’ll still give me a second chance.

And then he waited for a response.

There was no immediate reaction. Kageyama probably hadn’t noticed the message yet. That was fine. He didn’t strike Teruki as a person who spent his time on his phone 24/7. Just as Teruki was about to leave the app, a green dot appeared next to Kageyama’s name.

Three tiny dots showed up on the screen. He was already writing back.

Well. That was a little unexpected, but Teruki wasn’t going to curse some good luck. The faster they’d be done with this, the sooner Teruki could go back to his life and rub this in Akemi’s face. She should’ve known better than to challenge Teruki at his own game.

He was taking a really long time to write that answer. The dots kept moving up and down. For a moment they stopped, but then they started again. Was he writing a novella over there?

The screen was about to go dark. Teruki tapped it.

Still going.

Did he really think Teruki would be interested in his explanations? That he needed to write for five minutes and Teruki was going to read that? He was going to skim the message if anything. Kageyama was wasting his time.

So was Teruki with this waiting. He dropped the phone on his bed and got up to go to the kitchen. He wasn’t feeling like cooking anything specific, just something he could get out quick. He ate in no hurry, grabbing his phone and messing around with it for a bit. He kind of forgot about the message thing until he was finished and went to check what Kageyama had sent him.

There was nothing. There was no message. The green dot had disappeared and Kageyama had said nothing.

Okay. Didn’t mean he had to spend minutes keeping Teruki on suspense.

He must’ve gotten cold feet midway through.

Really. This guy was such a bore. He switched to the group chat and started typing out a message about how unresponsive Kageyama was to everything he did, but before he got even three words in, he stopped. Teruki stared at his phone for a moment, then deleted it all.

Already seeing him tomorrow, he wrote instead. I’m going to make you eat your words.

Kageyama wasn’t going to make a liar out of him. He’d get him flowers and meet him at his school with an apology if that was what it took. Play the part of a regretful fool, worried to have hurt his dear friend’s feelings. That ought to pull him out of his shell again.

His phone buzzed a few times. He checked to see that Koichi had sent his encouragement while Akemi was calling bullshit for no reason. He didn’t care about that. Let them scream. He took his dishes to the kitchen again and shoved them into the washer. Afterwards he picked his phone up again. Still nothing from Kageyama. Teruki ground his teeth together and opened the messages app. Some more screaming from his friends. He opened his message to Kageyama.

The three dots again. Well. At least he’d come back. Teruki ran his tongue over his teeth.

He wasn’t going to pay attention to it. He wasn’t going to let it bother him. Let Kageyama wait just as long as Teruki had been forced to do. Let him stew in his uncertainty.

Teruki pulled off his school uniform tie and threw it over his chair, unbuttoning his shirt before walking into his bathroom. He did things extra slow just out of spite, purposefully taking his sweet time with hair care and washing himself from head to toe more thoroughly than he’d done in ages.

He imagined how Kageyama must’ve been fretting over his lack of response already. How he must’ve been getting worried sick that he’d lost his chance with Teruki. As he should. Under any other circumstances, he would have been dropped ten times already.

Of course, having Kageyama worried probably wasn’t the best idea. What if it got him spooked again? Made him pull right back into his shell? It would make things all the more complicated for Teruki and he didn’t deserve that shit.

They didn’t need to prolong this any more than they already had. Teruki was going to get his attention, get the kiss and be done with the whole mess. Challenges were fun and all, and his life had been in a dire need of some excitement for a while now, but this whole thing had gotten pretty boring pretty fast. A little embarrassing too. And all of it was Akemi’s fault, naturally, for choosing such a bottom feeder for him.

Teruki just wanted to be done with it.

When he got out of the bathroom, with his towel around his head, he made a beeline for the phone to see if Kageyama had finally gotten his message out.

He had.

Teruki opened his phone.

It’s fine.

He stared at it. Then tried to scroll down as if there was going to be something more to it. There was nothing. That was it. Two words of nothing. It’s fine. What did he mean it was fine? It was fine, he wasn’t mad about how their date had gone? It was fine, he accepted the apology? What?

There was nothing more. No dots to indicate that Kageyama was still forming a longer response somewhere out there, no green dot next to his name to show that he was even there anymore. This was all Kageyama had wanted to say and there wasn’t going to be more.

Over forty-five minutes of thinking, writing and rewriting and this was all he’d gotten out of it?

Infuriating! This guy was like a brick wall. Nothing was getting through.

Teruki ground his teeth together. Fine. He wanted Teruki to do all the work? He could do all the work. He would do it and still come out of it with winning colors. Did Kageyama even realize how needlessly hard he was making things?

Was this somehow all Akemi’s doing? Was this some weird, elaborate plan to dethrone Teruki? That would have made way too much sense, actually. Akemi was the type to go bribing others to do what she wanted and she would have without a doubt loved to play with Teruki like this. Getting him into a bet and hiring a guy to play the part of a loser? That sounded like something Akemi would do, had she the brains for it.

But then again, Kageyama seemed just about as thick-headed of a fool as he appeared. If it was all just acting, he was damn good at it and talent like that didn’t just pop out of nowhere.

No. Kageyama wasn’t the type of a person to pull off something like this and come off believable.

Fine. Fine! Teruki was going to do everything. Kageyama should count himself lucky Teruki couldn’t dump him now. He should’ve counted himself lucky the moment Teruki’s eyes had landed on him. No one else would have been willing to do this much heavy lifting for any kind of relationship.

Are you free tomorrow afternoon? he texted. I’d love to see you again. Maybe come over to my place? I make a killer tea.

He wasn’t going to stay up waiting for his two-word reply. No doubt he’d take another hour to give his answer and Teruki didn’t have the patience for that. He put his phone on night mode and plugged it to the wall before digging in under his covers.

When he woke up, Kageyama had sent him: Sure.

Chapter Text

He met with Kageyama at his school after his club activities. Teruki’s plan was that they could walk home together and he could make Kageyama comfortable with some nonthreatening banter.

He sure hoped they weren’t going to run into anyone who knew him on their way. Kageyama looked like roadkill after his workout. He’d clearly taken a shower before meeting with Teruki, but it’d failed to perk him up. Everything about him drooped, his skin, his wet hair, his eyes, just… everything. He was pale and unsteady on his feet and God, if anyone saw him in Teruki’s presence, his reputation would be ruined.

But all Teruki could do about it was smile and bear it.

“You look like you had a thorough training session today,” he said pleasantly enough. Go with friendly, he thought, warm him up again and then move in for the kill. Today’s mission was root work. The kiss itself was going to have to take place somewhere public, but Teruki had learned his lesson. They were far away from any sort of intimacy. For now, they were just warming up. “Working hard again, I see.” He nudged his shoulder against Kageyama’s, barely even touching it. “I’m jealous of your resolve. Seriously. We going to be seeing some gains soon?”

Kageyama had been quiet ever since Teruki had picked him up and it was really hard to gauge out whether it was because he was still mad at him about the café or if he was just being his spacey self. Could’ve been either or, really, and Teruki was weighing down his options. He could bring it up, apologize face to face about what he’d said, put on his mask of humility and regret to get Kageyama to open up again. But that risked making him look like a doormat in front of him. Who knew, maybe Kageyama was into strong personalities? The big and buff guys of his club seemed like loud enough people and they were getting along like a house on fire.

Kageyama just hummed a complete non-answer to Teruki’s question. Trying to have a conversation with him was like fighting an uphill battle.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone over,” he continued, putting his hands behind his head and looking carefree. The weather was beautiful, he knew the sun was hitting his hair from the perfect angle to make it look like he had a golden halo around his head. It was no surprise to him that he turned heads on their way. Kageyama, though, had seemed to pick a point to stare on the ground rather than at the obviously gorgeous person next to him. “But I feel you’re kind of special. So maybe this could be like our thing? You don’t really like being out in the open with so many people, do you?”

Kageyama lifted his head and looked at him.

“Not really,” he said slowly and looked away. “It’s… noisy.”

Hah. He could be as short-worded as he wanted, Teruki was still going to be able to read him like a book by the end of this day, he was sure of it.

“Yeah, I bet,” he said. “I’m kind of the same, I guess. I much prefer staying indoors and doing stuff by myself.”

Kageyama looked at him again. He was expressionless when running his eyes up and down him.

“Really?” he said and his tone revealed nothing.

Absolutely not. The thought of Teruki spending longer than a few days’ time at home and away from people already had him growing bored. He’d start growing mold. It was the absolute worst-case scenario.

“Absolutely,” he said with a smile. “But I guess I can sacrifice some of my me-time for you, Kageyama. Since we’re friends.”

“Hmm.”

Guh. This was already such a drag. Teruki had wasted his time making sure his hair would look good for this. He was looking his very best in his school uniform and people were stumbling on their feet, too busy staring at him when he passed them by.

There was going to be no one to appreciate his hard work once they got home, huh? Kageyama might as well been blind, so disinterested he was.

Well. Time to put on the charm, he supposed.

“So, today during my classes, one of my friends – “ he started, but stopped when he heard the smallest of gasps from Kageyama. He perked up immediately, thinking he’d finally gotten his attention, but when Teruki turned to look at him, he was looking off to another direction completely.

There was a black and white cat sitting in the alleyway between two buildings. A big and ugly thing, looking like it had lived most of its life homeless, with some scarring on its ear and a crooked tail.

Kageyama was looking at it with large eyes like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Teruki bit on his tongue to keep it from clicking. He twisted his mouth only when he was sure Kageyama wasn’t seeing it.

“Yeah, there are a lot of alley cats here,” he said. “There used to live this hoarder nearby. She just kind of let her cats roam free. That’s why there aren’t any birds here anymore.”

Kageyama wasn’t listening. He’d knelt down on the ground, dirtying the knees of his pants and he was offering his hand to it. The cat regarded him without much of an outwards expression, just blinked its eyes slowly. Kageyama looked to be doing the same right back.

“They’re super dirty and have fleas, you know,” Teruki said, shivering at the thought.

The cat stood up and Teruki took a step back. These animals were wild and more likely to scratch at you than to play nice. He’d heard how they yowled at passersby when they got too close. Kageyama didn’t move, though, keeping his hand steady and the cat approached him.

Teruki made a shooing motion and the cat stopped, bowing its back, letting out a low meow.

“Come on, Kageyama,” he said. “Let’s – “

Kageyama turned to look at him, his face empty, eyes maybe a little wider than usual and Teruki closed his mouth.

God damn it. Akemi just had to give him someone who liked dirty, homeless animals, huh?

Teruki rolled his eyes, didn’t even try to hide it and remembered his mistake only after the fact. He looked at Kageyama to see how he’d reacted to it, but he’d already turned back to the cat.

The cat was now approaching Kageyama slowly, head stretched low, whiskers trembling. Kageyama remained unmoving, his hand steady for the cat to study.

Teruki watched the scars on his hand. Cat scratches. Maybe there was some truth to that after all. Petting random alley cats was going to get you hurt and that was that. Stupid from his part. Just because one cat trusted him, didn’t mean they’d all be this accepting.

”You shouldn’t touch it, it’s probably diseased,” he said.

The cat started rubbing its head against his hand and something funny happened to Kageyama’s face. Everything seemed to go soft, some of the tension Teruki hadn’t even realized was there draining away. Kageyama patted the cat, stroked its back with long, steady movements and Teruki could hear the cat purring like a car engine all the way to where he was standing.

Teruki tapped his foot against the ground, looking around. Not many people were around at this time. That was good. Teruki didn’t exactly want to be seen interacting with weird animals. He pursed his lips and looked at Kageyama.

He had a small smile on. It wasn’t a big thing, just the smallest upturn of his mouth, but it reached his eyes and made them look warmer than they’d looked before.

Teruki twisted his mouth, a smile of his own stretching on, though far sharper than Kageyama’s.

This was actually good! He could use this.

He pulled at his uniform jacket. Too bad he’d left his hand sanitizer in his locker. Well. He had another one at home. He started approaching them, cutting the distance between him and Kageyama with his cat. The moment he got closer, though, the cat froze, its back bowing upwards and fur sticking up. Kageyama froze as well, hand stopping mid motion and his warm expressions hardening and disappearing.

Teruki stopped.

A mask. He needed a better mask.

”A cat person, eh?” Teruki said, making his tone light, questioning. ”I’ve always preferred dogs myself. How do you do that? Get them to approach you like that? That’s pretty cool.”

Kageyama stayed kneeled on the ground next to the tense cat, turned his head to look at him slowly and there was a hard edge to his pose that hadn’t been there before, a tension to his jaw. He seemed to work over it for a while.

”It’s,” he started, then said nothing more.

”Hm?” Teruki said, slowing down his movements and kneeling down next to him. The cat backed away with a bowed back and wild eyes. It should’ve realized that Teruki would rather cut off his own arm than touch it. Scars were not his thing.

Kageyama stood up almost the moment Teruki knelt down next to him and spooked the cat, sending it yowling and running back into the alley.

”Can we go?” he said and his voice was a little unsteady.

Okay? Teruki hid away the sneer behind his pleasant mask. Fine. He was going to be like this, huh?

“Sure thing!” he said, not letting go of his smile for even a moment. His eyes zeroed on the cat hairs on Kageyama’s clothes and he had to push down his cringe as well. God. He was going to be taking this guy to his home? He better not get into his wardrobe.

As if Teruki was going to let anyone near his clothes.

He needed to adjust his mask with Kageyama. Clearly he didn’t like fast movements and sharp tones. Even an idiot could have seen that. But it wasn’t enough to know what not to do. There was no feedback from Kageyama, nothing to latch onto to see what he liked. Everything Teruki did just seemed to wash over him without leaving a trace. It was annoying and it made it harder to decide which façade to pull for him.

Soft and nice. That had to be it. Soft words and kind actions. He just had to keep at it to get to a point where Kageyama would stop being so God damn stubborn.

Had to be soft. Looking at this guy, Teruki doubted he’d survive a single day with the mask Teruki wore around his friends. The snark alone would send him crying to some corner, no doubt.

Would he have to get a cat just for this occasion? Borrow one from someone? Always a viable option.

Teruki guided them to his apartment building, forcibly keeping the conversation alive while Kageyama was doing his very best to kill it at every turn. They climbed the stairs to Teruki’s floor and even though it wasn’t that big of a climb, by the end of it Kageyama was out of breath and looking about ready to collapse. It would have been funny if it weren’t so embarrassing.

When he was leaning against a wall, breathing so heavy he looked like he was about to pass out, Teruki dug out his phone and snapped a quick picture to send it to the group chat.

Tired after some stairs lol. Going to put my charm on now.

When he looked up from the responses he was getting, Kageyama had managed to pull himself together and was wiping sweat from his forehead. Teruki made sure to mask his somewhat spiteful smile into an encouraging one.

“Climbing those steps every day after school sure has done me some good,” he said. “Maybe you should come over more after this, get some training from small, every day actions!”

Kageyama’s only response was to wheeze a little louder.

Just about what Teruki had expected.

“It’s just over here,” he said, pointing a thumb towards his door. “You going to be able to make it?”

Kageyama nodded stiffly and followed after him when Teruki went to open the door. Teruki guided him into the kitchen before holding his hands up.

“Wait there for just a moment,” he said. He walked to his cleaning closet and grabbed a lint roller. After that, he marched to his bathroom and got a bottle of hand sanitizer. He offered the roller to Kageyama. “Here. For the cat hair.”

Kageyama stared at it for a moment like he was trying to decipher the meaning behind Teruki’s words. He did seem to get the idea eventually, though.

Teruki rubbed the hand sanitizer to his skin and handed it off to Kageyama once he was done with the roller.

Ugh. Now he was going to have to let him further into his home.

Fine. Whatever. He took Kageyama through his kitchen and into his living room bedroom combo.

“Make yourself at home,” Teruki said and waved at his table. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Kageyama looked around the room like he hadn’t really heard what he’d said. When he turned back to look at Teruki, he blinked at him slowly.

Teruki fought the urge to roll his eyes and pointed at the table again, taking care not to let his motions get as sharp as he would have liked to make them. Kageyama was just as slow to move as he was to think, apparently.

Okay. Alright. Softness. He could do softness. He smiled at Kageyama with the softest of his smiles and disappeared back into the kitchen to put some water on the stove. He listened carefully to the noises from the other room, but he could hear nothing. He could just imagine Kageyama sitting at the table, staring into nothingness like there wasn’t anything going on behind his eyes.

The water boiled, he poured it into two cups and grabbed a handful of teabags for Kageyama to choose from. When he rounded the corner back into the other room, Kageyama was right where he’d left him, sitting by the table and staring through the glass door to the balcony and the sky beyond.

Of course. Because the first person he’d brought to his home was more interested in what was going outside than the apartment he was in.

At least he wasn’t making fun of its size.

Teruki set the cups down and reached to caress his hand over Kageyama’s shoulder, to rouse him from his stupor. His touch made Kageyama flinch violently and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” Teruki said, soft and quiet. “I did not mean to startle you. Do you not… like being touched?”

Kageyama looked away and rubbed his arm.

“It’s not that,” he mumbled to the floor.

Then what was it? Teruki bit his teeth together and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s fine. Here. I made us some tea. Would you like some?”

Kageyama stared at the cups like he wasn’t really seeing them. When he reached for one of the tea bags, his movements were slow and sluggish. Teruki watched the scars stretch on his hands when he curled his fingers around the cup.

With deliberate movements, Kageyama dipped the bag into the water, slow and stilted, like he thought every movement seconds ahead of time, sitting so stiff on his chair he looked like a bad wax figure.

That was fine. Teruki could work with this. There had to be something he could do here. He put his elbow on the table and chin on his hand, smiling at Kageyama when he turned to look at him.

“I’m so glad you decided to come with me after all,” he said. “I was so worried I might have scared you off last time. I’m so sorry. I know I can be a bit pushy sometimes. I’m just the type of a person who goes and gets what he wants when he sees it.”

Kageyama studied him for a while, a guarded look in his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

Kageyama looked down and away.

“You said,” he started, then remained still for a moment, mouth open. “You… That when you see something you like, you get it. So. What did you want?”

Going there already? Teruki smiled, looked down and tried to look a little bashful. “Well,” he said slowly. “Let’s just say that I looked at you and saw something I like.”

Kageyama’s only response was a non-committal hum. When Teruki looked back up, he had a closed off look on his face.

“How does that make you feel?” he goaded. Just to get some ground to stand on.

“I don’t… know,” Kageyama said slowly. “I don’t think you’re being very honest with me.”

Teruki bit his teeth together. How could he possibly tell? He’d fooled smarter people than Kageyama before.

“You wound me,” he said and chuckled. “Do I really strike you as someone so shallow?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know you.”

“Well, I’m trying to get to know you. Maybe you should open up a bit and let me closer. You might be surprised of what you see.”

Kageyama lifted his eyes. His hand was holding tight onto the string of his teabag, so tight, that the string was digging into his skin. Even now that they were alone, he was still acting dodgy and nervous like he was constantly waiting for something bad to happen.

This wasn’t working. It just wasn’t. Teruki pulled back and ran a hand over his face. He wasn’t going to be able to get any work done like this, not when Kageyama looked like he was one push away from completely retreating back into his shell again.

He wanted honesty? Fine. Teruki could give him a little honesty. Just a little, though. Not too much to give everything away.

“Okay,” he said and let go of his masks for a moment, letting some annoyance through his voice. “Fine. Some friends of mine saw you walking past and you looked like someone who doesn’t have a lot of friends. And honestly? You could do a lot worse than me.”

Kageyama blinked slowly, looked at him and for a moment just… stared. Teruki looked back, didn’t even bother to try to put on an inane smile for him. Let him see just how annoyed he’d made Teruki. And it almost looked like some of the haze disappeared from Kageyama’s eyes, like he was looking at him properly for the first time.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Teruki repeated.

“Okay.” Kageyama blinked again and looked down. “Your friends are right. I don’t have… a lot of friends.”

Teruki crossed his arms.

“Yeah,” he said. “It kind of shows.”

“Hmm.”

“So… What? Those jocks? Anyone else?”

“Oh. Friends? I have my brother. And then…” His words petered off and he stared out through Teruki’s balcony. Slowly his mouth shut and he said nothing more.

Okay. Okay, this was working. It was a little weird, but it had gotten them started. Teruki just needed to make sure he didn’t take it too far and say something that was going to send Kageyama packing.

He moved closer again, pulled his chair next to Kageyama’s and reached his hand to place it over his. He forgot about the scars for a moment and just put his hand on Kageyama’s.

Kageyama was instantly on guard again.

“Well,” he said, trying to put some honesty into his voice. “If you want to, you can think of me as your friend.” He ran his hands up his fingers, over the back of his hand and towards his arm. “Or… if you want to, we could be more.”

Kageyama looked away and snatched his hand back.

“Please don’t do that,” he said stiffly.

Teruki bit down on his tongue. Okay then. Was this really not going to work? Was this Kageyama being awkward and not liking to be touched or was this Kageyama being as straight as a board?

Much as he hated to admit it, at some point he needed to come to admit that he was just wasting his time. It would be pointless to keep chasing a goal he was never going to reach.

Maybe he was going to have to pay Kageyama after all. Tell him the truth, offer him the money, get a small kiss in front of the others and then never see this guy ever again. It certainly would be the easiest and most boring option, but it would get the work done.

Although, he thought, leaning against his fist and watching Kageyama stare at his teacup like he was drinking it with his eyes instead of his mouth, Kageyama seemed like the type of a guy to guard his first kiss like it was something special. He was probably the type of a loser who wouldn’t even give it up for money.

The thought entered his mind uninvited and stressful.

Was he going to lose the bet?

Worry started churning in his stomach.

No. That wasn’t going to happen. It just wasn’t. He wasn’t going to give up and let Akemi have her win. He wasn’t going to let her drag him down with this thing, he wasn’t going to be able to live with seeing her grinning smugly at him every day for the foreseeable future.

He needed a break. He couldn’t keep sitting here with Kageyama like this, not if he wanted to keep his sanity intact.

Teruki stood up slowly.

He was going to have to come up with a battle plan.

“Do make yourself at home,” he said. “I’m going to take a little bathroom break.”

Kageyama nodded stiffly and Teruki left the room to go and lock himself in his bathroom for a moment. He closed the lid for his toilet and sat down on it, resting his head against his hands.

He couldn’t lose. Not in something like this, not because of Kageyama. He refused.

But nothing was working. He needed to admit it to himself at least. He was doing all he could think of and every time he even brushed against Kageyama, his hackles were up again.

God. He was going to have to go back out there soon. Back there, where Kageyama could keep deflecting every attempt at getting closer to him, where he could keep making fun of Teruki.

He had no plan. He had nothing.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

Teruki bit his teeth together. He wasn’t. He hadn’t given up yet. He’d rather be dead than admit defeat to someone like Akemi.

Slowly he got back to his feet, the world shifting around him as cold sweat prickled on his forehead.

Damn Akemi and damn Kageyama. He wasn’t giving up!

He flushed the toilet for show and ran cold water over his hands, staring at himself through the mirror.

“You haven’t lost yet,” he said out loud, determined, if only outwardly.

That was going to have to be a good start for it. Appearances were half of his conviction. The rest of it came from his steely self-confidence, buckling now against Kageyama’s unflinching disinterest.

It was going to be fine.

He stepped out and back into the living room. Kageyama had stood up from the table, his empty cup forgotten. He was standing in front of Teruki’s bed, looking at the knickknacks on the shelf above it. Gifts from his parents that they’d sent him from all around the world during their travels. Teruki had kept them all, arranging them neatly in order by the earliest to the latest so that they almost created a timeline for all the places his parents had been to. Of course, the newest little glass figurine depicting the Eiffel Tower was already two and a half years old.

They must’ve thought Teruki was old enough to not want them anymore. That he’d have no use for meaningless trash.

Which…

They were right, of course.

Teruki had kept the display dustless and clean for years and the empty space at the end of the shelf was looking pretty foolish now, he had to admit. He just hadn’t had the time to rearrange them yet. Pack them away or something. He’d get to it eventually. If he cared enough.

Kageyama stared at the Russian nesting doll with rounded eyes and Teruki bit back a sigh.

“Do you like them?” he asked. “They’re from my parents. That one’s from Russia.” He walked up to his bed and reached for the doll, grabbing it off the shelf. For a moment he weighed it in his hands, heard the dolls inside clacking against each other. He offered them to Kageyama. “Here. Have a look.”

Kageyama held it in his hands carefully, like it was something very precious. And Teruki supposed it kind of was. He’d been thirteen when he’d gotten that one. His parents had come to visit the estate, it’d been two years before Teruki had taken the funds meant for his education and moved closer to his high school.

His parents had for once decided to show up for his birthday and all he’d gotten was a few hours of their time and a stupid wooden stacking doll.

Kageyama ran his fingers over the seam.

“Go ahead,” Teruki said.

He looked up, confused.

“It opens up,” Teruki said and didn’t manage to catch the slight tint of ridicule from his voice. He made a twisting motion with his hands. “Give it a try.”

Kageyama turned back to the doll and gave it a twist. The top part opened with a pop and revealed another, differently colored and smaller version inside. Kageyama’s eyes grew a little larger with wonder.

He looked like he liked the dolls just fine. More than he liked Teruki for sure. He placed the halves of the doll on the table and opened the next doll, then the next and the next.

Teruki’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He kind of dreaded what he’d find if he looked. While Kageyama slowly dismantled the doll into smaller and smaller pieces, Teruki dug out his phone, anxiety churning in his gut. They’d sent so many questions. They were demanding pictures. Making fun of him like they could see right through his lies.

Teruki twisted his mouth. The last thing he needed was those vultures finding a way to get their claws on him. He knew they’d descend on him the moment they sensed weakness and rip him to shreds just so that they could feel a little better about themselves. Teruki knew it, because it would’ve been the exact same thing he’d done had the roles been reversed with any of them. They loved tearing people down. It was what they did. The higher the people on the social ladder, the funnier it was to watch them fall. What great fun it would’ve been to drop one of their own. It would’ve lifted them that much higher.

So instead of telling them the truth, that he didn’t think this was going to work out after all, he sent them a message bragging about how well he was doing. As Kageyama revealed layers after layers of the doll, Teruki kept piling on his lies. He told them how he already had Kageyama sitting on his bed, that they needed to slow down a little so that they wouldn’t get caught in it and start making out. He was sure the others wouldn’t buy it. At this point, it didn’t really matter. As long as he could keep the act going a bit longer, it would be fine.

Could he stage the kiss somehow? Get someone about Kageyama’s size, put them in a wig and have his audience far enough not to recognize the ruse? Possible. But if he got caught, it would be the end of him.

Seriously. He couldn’t even get a lonely loser like Kageyama to like him. His friends wouldn’t care it was because Kageyama was weird, they’d only latch onto the fact that he’d failed.

He didn’t lift his head when he heard Kageyama get up, just watched him from the corner of his eye when he moved to look at the other things he had on the shelf.

Koichi sent him a thumbs up emoji, telling him to get it done, while both Reiko and Akemi wanted to believe nothing he was saying. Well, they could have their opinions and shove them.

Kageyama moved from the shelf. Teruki looked to the table, where he’d opened the doll all the way to the smallest one, about the size of the nail on Teruki’s pinky finger. Kageyama had set them out neatly in rows, from biggest to smallest. Teruki picked up the smallest, the most pathetic one, colorless and featureless, and stared at it for a long moment.

He got the inexplicable need to throw it out the window. Instead he set it back down and turned to his phone.

While Teruki was busy messaging with his friends, Kageyama moved around his room, taking in everything with the same disinterest he had for everything else. He moved on from the shelf to look through the window at the plants Teruki had on his balcony, then to the other window to look at the neighboring buildings. Teruki bit down the groan trying to climb up his throat and focused on his phone for a while.

The noise of his closet door opening was what drew him out of his stupor.

Kageyama was at his closet.

Teruki jumped to his feet.

”Hold up!” he said. ”Wait! That’s off limits!”

It was too late. The damage had been done, the doors were open and Kageyama was staring at his closet full of monsters.

Teruki was going to cry. He was going to scream and shout and have a tantrum right here. Kageyama was staring and there was no erasing what he’d seen.

The thing was, Teruki loved clothes. He loved all sorts of clothes, but the more outrageous and colorful, the better.

Unfortunately, the world hadn’t yet caught up to his fashion sense. It didn’t agree with his preferred clothing styles and he had to be very careful what he picked to wear unless he wanted to tarnish his image. The line between fashionably interesting and boringly acceptable in the eyes of the public was very slim and Teruki was careful when balancing on top of it, precariously careful not to tip on to either side too much.

Kageyama was now staring with that dead gaze of his at the collection of clothes he’d never be able to wear outside his home.

He was staring at them and judging Teruki.

Teruki’s mouth tasted bitter.

Kageyama turned to him when Teruki hurried past him to slam the doors shut with enough force to make the walls shake. His eyes were wide, skin pale and it was just the perfect thing, wasn’t it? Teruki’s fists were trembling against the closet doors.

“Oh,” Kageyama said after a short delay. ”I’m sorry.” He looked down. ”I didn’t mean to offend.” He thought about it for another moment. ”You have a lot of clothes.”

”Yeah!” Teruki said. ”And they’re none of your business. They… they aren’t actually even mine. I’m holding them here for a friend. He has… he has a horrible taste in fashion, but he keeps… bringing his clothes to me. So.”

God. He was pathetic.

”Oh,” Kageyama said and was quiet for a long moment afterwards. ”I don’t know. I think they looked nice.” He looked at the ceiling, a small frown appearing between his brows. ”But I guess I don’t know enough about these things to say.”

Teruki stared at him, incredulous. Was he being serious? He looked as serious as he ever did, but there was no reading the muted expressions. Teruki ran his tongue over his teeth.

Either Kageyama had a worse fashion sense than he did or he was making fun of Teruki.

He gritted his teeth together and pulled the door back open.

“You think they look nice?” he mocked. “Well, let me just show you!” He waved his hand with flourish. “Let’s see about this disaster, huh?” He grabbed one of his favorite jackets, a puffy, bright orange atrocity with blue highlights at the seams. It had never been worn. ”I mean, just look at this! Who’d be caught dead wearing this?” It had such beautiful, pink patches, shaped like triangles and stars. He threw it on his bed and pulled out a pair of leggings with emojis on them. ”Eyugh. Look! This one’s so disgustingly kitsch it makes me want to vomit. Oh, oh, and this one!” He dropped the leggings to grab at his favorite sweater, a thing so fluffy wearing it was like being trapped in a cloud. “Are you serious?”

Kageyama reached his hand and patted the sweater.

”I like this one,” he said. ”It’s soft.”

”Seriously?” Teruki said. ”That’s how you decide what’s good and what’s not? It’s clearly the ugliest thing in the world. Teal? In this season? Give me a break!”

”I don’t know about that,” Kageyama said, defensive. He turned to the closet, taking a step closer. ”I like these,” he said, pulling out Teruki’s flower embroidered jeans. ”I like the colors.”

Teruki liked them too.

”They’re ugly as sin.”

Kageyama frowned, letting go of them. He started picking at the sleeve of his uniform.

”I don’t think it’s nice that you’re making fun of your friend’s clothes.”

Teruki turned to look at him like he was dumb. “Are you serious? Are you really that dense? These aren’t my friend’s, they’re are mine! I was just saying that they weren’t. And you bought that? Are you stupid or what?”

Kageyama’s frown got deeper.

”I think I’m going home now,” he said.

Teruki bit his teeth together. Did he have to be so damn sensitive about everything? This was never going to work. He’d brought him here so he could warm him up a bit, but he just had to be so stubborn about everything, didn’t he?

”Okay, look, I’m sorry,” he said sharply. ”Happy?”

”Not really,” Kageyama responded. ”I don’t know why you invited me here. I don’t think you want me to be here. I don’t want to be here, if you’re going to be mean.” His face was resolute. It was the clearest emotion on it yet. ”It’s… it’s important to say when you’re uncomfortable and… and you are allowed to remove yourself from a situation that doesn’t feel right.”

He sounded like a self-help book and it was getting on Teruki’s nerves. He rolled his eyes and the moment he did, Kageyama turned around and headed for the door.

Shit.

”Okay! Okay, wait!” he yelled after him. ”Wait just a minute,” He grabbed onto Kageyama’s shoulder.

The effect was immediate. Kageyama went as rigid as a rod, a startled yelp escaping before he clearly bit his teeth to his tongue.

No. Bad. That was…

Teruki pulled back.

God damn it, he was going to have to be honest, wasn’t he?

”Okay,” he said one more time and lifted his hands up in surrender. ”I’m sorry. It’s just that… I haven’t had anyone over to my place before and I know that my fashion sense is shit.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth. ”And I just. Didn’t want. To be judged. By you.”

Kageyama was slow to turn back around. Some apprehension still lingered over his eyes, but it was softer now.

”You were… embarrassed?” he asked carefully.

Teruki couldn’t look him in the eye. A feeling he couldn’t recognize was burning in his throat.

”Well,” he said, ready to spin another lie, then huffed through his nose instead. ”Yeah. Yep. I was. Okay?”

The frown smoothed over and Kageyama’s face brightened a little. He blinked a few times.

”Oh,” he said. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

”Well,” Teruki said, trying feverishly to find the right words to keep this good thing going. Kageyama was relaxing. “I kind of noticed. You’re not that good at picking up other people’s signals, huh?”

The wrong thing to say. The brightness started to fade from his face, the look in his eyes dimming down.

“That’s fine,” Teruki hurried to say. “I’m a bit of an expert myself. I can be louder about my signals to you, if you want to.”

Kageyama blinked a few times and then he…

He was smiling.

It was a small one, barely noticeable, but it was there. Not quite as strong as the smile he’d had for the cat, but not as strained as some of the ones from before.

That was…

Huh.

Teruki crossed his arms and dared to put on a smile of his own, a little smaller than his usual ones and a lot less honest than Kageyama’s.

Finally, progress.

”Thank you,” Kageyama said. ”That’s very nice of you.”

”Of course!” he said, closing his eyes and waving his hand dismissively. ”I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet!”

Kageyama’s hum made it sound like he didn’t really believe him. He turned back to look at the closet, reaching for the sweater again, running his fingers over it.

“What else do you have?” he asked.

Teruki’s grin gained some genuine curve to it.

“Want me to show you?”

Chapter Text

“And then there’s this one. I really like the sequins on it. It cost me like 500 yen, can you believe? It was a steal!”

Kageyama stared up at him from a crater of clothes on the floor. Teruki’s bed was covered in jackets and jeans, his table was no longer visible from under the shirts he’d thrown over it and every single surface in his living room was under some tacky fabric.

And even then, by the time Teruki managed to find his phone from under a pink faux fur coat and realized that two hours had gone by like it was nothing, his closet was still half full, the clothes in it packed very tight to make room for more.

Teruki was wearing a rainbow-striped, midriff revealing shirt, heart shaped, pink glasses and a frilly scarf, while Kageyama sat close by with a pill box hat skewed on top of his head and an electric yellow muff around his neck, fingers lodged deep between the plastic feathers.

Teruki stared at the screen of his phone.

He’d honestly lost track of time and was having a hard time understanding what he was seeing.

He turned back to his closet. There were still so many good picks left unseen there.

That was kind of Teruki’s fault. He’d gotten so excited about finding clothes he hadn’t even remembered he owned and he’d just had to put them on. That had taken some time.

He’d forgotten how much he loved the bright green overalls he was wearing. They’d spoken to him on a spiritual level when he’d seen them online. He’d known he had to have them. And they fit like a dream! He loved them!

Even though he’d never be able to wear them outside.

Kageyama yawned loudly and Teruki turned to look at him.

“Getting bored already?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“Maybe a little,” Kageyama said, picking the hat from his head and setting it on top of the pile next to him. Teruki lifted his phone and showed him the time. Kageyama seemed surprised. His eyes grew a little, posture straightening. The only thing he ended up saying, though, was a small: “Oh.”

Oh, indeed. Teruki turned to his closet and took off the sunglasses. He folded the legs and set them back down next to the star shaped blue ones. Seemed like they both had kind of gotten lost into it.

Teruki had tried to get Kageyama to try some of the more outrageous clothes he had. He’d thought that would be funny. Kageyama hadn’t removed anything more than his uniform jacket, though, so that had kind of killed most of the fun. It was fine. Teruki had managed to throw his red and embroidered jacket on his shoulders and it looked just as ridiculous as he’d hoped. He’d gotten some pictures out of that one.

Despite the bad start, Teruki could tell Kageyama had relaxed a lot since they’d opened the closet doors.

Teruki stared at the remaining clothes in.

He supposed he too had… kind of had a good time. Better than he thought he was going to, for sure.

Kageyama rose up unsteadily and dusted off his pants.

“Do you need help putting these back in?” he asked, lifting one end of the muff.

Teruki considered telling him to help him to clean up. But this had gone a whole lot better than he’d thought it was going to. He didn’t want to ruin a good thing, so it would be better to just get Kageyama out of there.

“No, no,” he said with a smile. “I’ll clean this up myself. You should probably head home now, huh? It’s getting a little late.”

Kageyama hummed and pulled a phone out of his pocket. His relaxed expression froze in an instant. Teruki moved carefully behind him as if to start picking up the clothes on the bed, while not so subtly looking over his shoulder to see what had gotten him so disturbed.

About a dozen missed calls, all from the same number. Ritsu, it said on the screen. Multiple text messages too, by the looks of it.

Teruki didn’t bother to hide his grimace. Kageyama didn’t look like he was going to notice it anyway. He wasn’t sure what that was about, but he could guess it wasn’t good.

Kageyama removed the muff with stiff hands and offered it to Teruki without looking. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door without another word. Had Teruki not followed after him, he would’ve probably just put on his shoes and walked right out without another word. Teruki managed to intercept him before he left, though.

“Hey,” he said. “I had a good time. Can we do this again?”

He was surprised when he realized it wasn’t even that much of a lie.

Kageyama stopped, one shoe in the foot already. He blinked a few times.

“I had… a good time too,” he said, like it was somehow a big revelation to him as well, which… Okay. Rude. But Teruki was going to take it. He stood unmoving for a moment. “I think I’d like that,” he said at length.

“That’s great! Text me when you’re free!”

Kageyama nodded resolutely, like they were deciding on something bigger than just meeting up in some undisclosed time in the future.

“I will,” he said.

Maybe that meant he was going to keep his word this time. That he wasn’t going to “forget” to text him afterwards. Well. Teruki now had his number as well, so he could make sure that didn’t happen.

Kageyama was already lifting the phone to his ear by the time he stepped over the threshold of Teruki’s home. Soon enough he could hear him say: “Hey. Yes, I’m fine. Yes. With Hanazawa. I’m sorry.” Teruki closed the door behind him and turned around.

When he returned back to his room and took in the mess they’d made, he just kind of… froze there.

That had been kind of dumb. He shouldn’t have let Kageyama get into his closet and see his clothes. That’d been stupid and he was lucky Kageyama hadn’t just laughed at his face. Teruki wouldn’t have been able to take ridicule from someone like Kageyama.

But… He had to admit, it had been pretty fun to try on his clothes with someone else.

Maybe he shouldn’t feel so worried about dressing like this with his friends. After all, if someone like Kageyama could tell that these clothes looked good, then surely his friends would as well.

Heh. He’d worried about nothing. Naturally, he knew what good clothes looked like. He was at the top of the food chain! People like him were trendsetters, they decided what looked good and what didn’t. He should consider putting a bit more of a flare into his outfits.

He had a smile on for the rest of the evening and it felt pretty good.

“Oh, I have the whole thing under control,” Teruki said and leaned back on the bench. “Yesterday, I could already feel sparks in the air. I swear, it was this close.”

They’d gathered to sit at the park, where they could watch people passing them by and ridicule their looks.

“Really?” Koichi asked. “That’s good, then!”

“I can’t believe someone who claims to be such a charmer is taking so long to get things done,” Akemi said. “You can tell us if you think you can’t do it.”

As if. He wouldn’t have admitted a thing, not even if things hadn’t gotten better yesterday. He wasn’t really lying. No, there had been no sparks flying, save for Teruki’s own temper, but that didn’t mean they weren’t making progress. Now at least Teruki was pretty sure he had a chance with this.

And even if this turned out to be a bust, Teruki could play it long enough to see what was up and find a way to fix it some other way.

He was going to win and that was that. He had nothing to worry about.

“Want to see pictures of him?” Teruki asked and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He had the dumbest clothes on yesterday, look.”

He showed them the picture of Kageyama he’d taken, the one where he was wearing the muff with the pillbox hat and the red jacket. Probably the most stylish set of clothes he’d ever worn in his life.

“Oh my God!” Reiko shouted and grabbed the phone out of his hands. “What is he wearing?”

“Show me,” Mitsuru said and pulled at her arm. She slapped it away and gave the phone to Akemi, who laughed out loud.

“Look at this loser!” she barked. “What is that thing around his neck? It’s ugly as all hell! He came in wearing that?”

“Right?” Teruki said and reached for his phone, tasting acid in his mouth.

“He wasn’t wearing that in public, was he?” Reiko asked and scrunched her nose.

“I’d rather die,” Akemi agreed.

“Let me see! Let me see!” Koichi said.

Teruki stashed his phone into his pocket.

“Save your eyes,” he spat out, a bit too sharp. “You’ll get nightmares.”

This seemed to only make the girls laugh twice the harder. Teruki pulled on a better mask, held it tightly, grinning wide like he was laughing at Kageyama with them.

Right. He’d been right. His clothes should be thrown into a pile and set on fire. He’d be making the world a favor with that one. Kageyama was just so bad at realizing what looked good and what didn’t that he’d been mistaken. For no other reason would anyone ever want to try them on. Kageyama was just too dumb to realize. Because he was the type of a person to look at a fluffy sweater and say he thought it was nice just because it was soft.

Right.

Teruki held onto his smile with a steely grip. His friends were right. The clothes were awful. The muff was ugly as sin and shouldn’t be worn by anyone. Electric yellow? That didn’t work with anything.

He’d never show them what he had in his closet. It was safer that way.

“So,” Akemi said, turning to him with that terrible smile of hers, so wide he could see the gums above her teeth. “You really think there’s going to be progress on your little project?”

She said it like she knew better. Teruki crossed his legs and leaned back, putting a smug tint to his smile.

“You’ll be sorry for making this bet soon,” he said. “You’ll be eating your words.”

“Pfft,” she said. “I’ll eat my words only when you’ve got something to show me! Until that, all you are is talk, pretty boy.”

“Oh, these looks are just half the job,” Teruki said and threw hair out of his eyes, causing a few passing girls to stutter in their step. “My charm is what’s going to get him. He’s just so shy. You wouldn’t get how sensitive he is. Just one wrong word and he’s running off. He requires what you call a delicate touch. Something you wouldn’t understand.”

Reiko snorted and Akemi narrowed her eyes.

“Well,” she said. “We’ll see just how delicate of a touch you have. You can talk as much as you like, but we’ve got eyes, you know. We can see when your shit isn’t working.”

He saw Akemi and Reiko throwing knowing looks at each other and it had his stomach churning. How much could they possibly know? Not much, he was sure. It was all talk, meant to get under his skin and to get him to hesitate. It didn’t mean anything.

Akemi and Reiko had already decided this wasn’t going to work and nothing Teruki could say was going to make them change their mind. He needed results. Only that was going to make them admit defeat. Only then would he rest easy knowing he’d won.

The bet didn’t have anything monetary at stake. No, money was cheap. What they were weighing down here was the worth of their words and the image they had.

And that was worth so much more.

Teruki couldn’t afford to lose.

What he needed to do was up his game.

When there was no word from Kageyama during the first two days after their dress-up date, Teruki sent him a message instead. He staged the whole thing, sought out the cat Kageyama had been so friendly with, bribed it with some meat and caught a few pictures of it to send to him.

I think I’ll make a friend out of him yet, he sent him. Shy, but seems like worth getting to know. Reminds me of someone. ;)

He made sure to send him something every day. Sometimes a short message asking how he was doing, sometimes a picture of something soft and nice, like clouds or flowers or some crap. A little something every day to establish him as part of Kageyama’s life.

Kageyama’s answers were always stilted and came hours after he’d read the messages, but it was something Teruki was just going to have to get used to. A week later Teruki felt confident in asking to meet up again. Kageyama wanted to move slowly? Teruki could be glacial for him. They started walking home together every now and then, Teruki going out of his way to take a longer route home just so he could get maybe ten minutes of Kageyama’s time once or twice every week. Sometimes he invited Kageyama to his place and sometimes Kageyama even agreed.

They were taking things so slow Teruki felt like he was going to start going insane if he didn’t get another girl on the side. He was already catching glimpses of rumors about him having a secret partner from another school.

Teruki didn’t really want to be seen with Kageyama. He didn’t want the rumors to fuse together after people had seen him out at cafés and malls with Kageyama. The talks would get warped and people would think he’d lowered his standards. That he’d date just about anyone at this point.

He wouldn’t have put it past Akemi to start spreading tall tales like that.

The thing Teruki was having a hard time admitting to himself was that spending time with Kageyama was actually kind of okay. Talking with him was easy. Teruki got to do most of it, but it wasn’t like Kageyama wasn’t listening to him. He always was. Even though his eyes might’ve been going around the scenery rather than looking at Teruki, Kageyama still took in everything he said. Sometimes he even said something back.

It felt good to be able to rant about his friends to someone.

“I swear, Mitsuru doesn’t even want to be there!” he said. “I mean, he only comes with us, because Reiko is there, but he never has anything to say. He thinks no one can tell that he already has another girl that he’d rather spend time with. I bet Reiko knows too and she’s holding it over his head like it’s the biggest secret or something.”

“Hmm.”

“But none of them get on Akemi’s level. That girl would set us all on fire if it meant she’d get to stay warmer for five minutes.”

Kageyama looked at him with a worried look.

“They don’t sound like… good friends,” he said carefully.

Teruki threw his head back and laughed loudly, a bit louder than he was actually feeling like. People passing them by turned to look with curiosity.

“Yeah, no shit!” he said.

Kageyama frowned. “Then why do you spend time with them?” he asked.

“Status,” Teruki said. It was pretty obvious. They were the kings and queens of the school and no one else was better than them.

“They don’t seem like nice people,” Kageyama said more to himself than to Teruki.

He didn’t know half of it. Teruki thought it was pretty funny, though.

They spent most of their time at Teruki’s place, which turned out to be the best solution for the both of them. No people to see Teruki and start stupid rumors, no people to make Kageyama nervous. For a few weeks Teruki invited him over every now and then, working diligently to get him to be more comfortable around him. And it wasn’t easy. Dear lord, Kageyama was so damn sensitive about everything. Loud noises? He flinched. Brushing against him accidentally? He got stiff as a board. Even a mention of something negative, he was getting up and ready to leave.

So damn ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

It got a little easier. The thing was that Kageyama seemed to have a surprisingly good sense for bullshit. Teruki’s kind smiles just made him look uncomfortable, padded soft words got him to pull back like he could see right through them.

What seemed to work the best was when Teruki tried a little bit of honesty. Not a lot, he wasn’t stupid. But the times when he lost sense of time and let go of himself a little were when Kageyama got the most comfortable around him. It was nice.

Well. It was nicer than he’d thought this whole game was going to be. He was still spending time with a low-ranking idiot. It just so happened that Kageyama was a nice idiot.

They were on their way from Peppermint High to Teruki’s place, when a group of students from Saffron High exited out of a shop. Teruki recognized them immediately. He knew the guy heading the group. They shared the same literature class.

“Teru!” the guy shouted, lifting a hand to a wave. “There you are! Where’ve you been?”

Teruki took a quick look at the guys, then at Kageyama next to him and chose an expression he wanted to convey. A wide smile and a boisterous laugh.

“Makoto!” he said and reached to shake his hand. “Damn, you’re right. It’s been, what, three weeks now? We’ve got to meet up some day.”

“Just what I was thinking!” Makoto said and they bumped their shoulders together.

Makoto was the leader of the Foreign Book Club and the son of a very famous author. An important figure to keep close for the future. He’d been one of the projects Teruki had been running in the background before this whole bet thing. He was one of Akemi’s spurned lovers, a perfect little pawn to have in his pocket.

Teruki had had to put all his networking plans on the backburner while he was dealing with Kageyama, though, and it was starting to show.

Kageyama shifted, showing signs of discomfort already, standing a few steps behind him. Teruki really didn’t want to introduce them. He didn’t want to be connected with him and cause damage to his image, but having him hang behind him while he was talking wasn’t ideal either.

He had to weight down his options quick. Which was more important to him, the short-term satisfaction he was going to get from winning the bet, or the long term good it would do him to be in good graces with Makoto?

He’d worked so hard to get where he was at with Kageyama right now. If he now started clearly and openly avoiding him in the public, shunning him while he was talking to someone else, it was going to make things that much harder in the future.

God damn it.

“Ah, this is my friend, Kageyama,” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder and forcibly pushing him to the foreground. “I ended up meeting him through Akemi and we’ve been… spending time since then. That’s why I’ve been so busy.”

Makoto raised a brow. His friends swarmed closer, studying Kageyama, who looked like he was about to pull his head under his uniform jacket.

“From Peppermint High?” Makoto said, and after a moment of hesitation, offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. Any friend of Teru’s is a friend of mine!”

Kageyama stared at the hand and made no move to grab it. He didn’t say anything either, just stood there in uncomfortable silence.

God damn it.

Teruki forced out a laugh, warm and well meaning. He threw his arm over Kageyama’s shoulder, knowing that it was going to set him back some ways with him, but it was going to do wonders to diffuse the situation.

“I’m sorry, Makoto,” he said and patted the shoulder he was leaning on. “He’s a little shy. But well worth getting to know, I assure you.”

Makoto looked between them for a moment, before smiling and shaking his head with a laugh.

“Nah, that’s fine,” he said. “Spending any time with Akemi is going to do that to a person.”

They both laughed at that and Teruki was painfully aware of just how rigid Kageyama was under his arm. His whole spine was screaming with how stiff it was and the only thing keeping the others from paying attention to it was Teruki’s own presence drawing the eyes to him.

“But the two of us really need to get going,” he said, letting go of Kageyama and moving to grab Makoto’s hand. He bumped their shoulder together and saw from the way Makoto was looking at him that he hadn’t lost him just yet.

Damn. He was handsome too.

“We’ve got to hang out more later,” he said, lifting two fingers to his forehead and waving them at Makoto. “Next week?”

“Yeah, let’s meet up for lunch,” Makoto said, pulling back.

A crisis averted. Teruki grabbed onto Kageyama’s upper arm and started pulling him away, putting as much distance between them as they could.

Kageyama shot a look back. Teruki followed his eyes to the retreating backs of Makoto and his posse.

Whew. Teruki let some strain drain from his shoulders and he could see Kageyama’s hackles going down as well.

“You have a lot of friends,” Kageyama said, still looking back.

It was rare even now to have him starting a conversation. But Teruki was nothing if not willing to seize the opportunity.

“Yeah,” he said, lifting his arms and putting them behind his head. “Comes with the charisma.”

“Hmm.” Kageyama tuned to face the road. They’d be at Teruki’s house soon, away from other possible social pitfalls. “You were like a whole different person there.”

“With Makoto?” he said. “I mean, yeah. He’s on a whole different league from you.”

Kageyama hummed again, staring at the pavement, deep in thought.

“How do you… do it?” he asked at length.

“What? Talk to him?”

Kageyama shook his head and frowned a little.

“The,” he said and moved his hands around awkwardly. “The… shoulder bumps. And. You were so loud. And. That.”

“You’d want me to do that with you?” Teruki needled.

“No.”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back and burying his hands into his pockets. “And that’s why. That thing back there? Just a mask I wear when I’m with Makoto, you know?”

“A mask?” Kageyama asked.

Ah. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It was going to give Kageyama a really shallow view of him.

But then again, Kageyama already had a sense for bullshit. Showing him just a glimpse of what was behind the curtains might get him to think he was special.

And when was Teruki going to get another chance like this?

“Yeah,” he said, grinning wide. “It’s all in the way you hold yourself when you’re having a conversation. You got to watch the other person for what they like and what works for them and then build up your persona based on that.”

“So… a mask,” Kageyama said.

“Yeah. Like Makoto, there.” He pointed a thumb behind him. “He runs the Foreign Book Club at Saffron High. He likes boring stuff, like long, foreign drama movies and dry books, but likes to think himself exciting. So with him, I try to keep it light.” He pulled his back straight. “Like…” He thought about it for a moment, bent his voice into a loud, light tone that he liked to call his sophisticated bro tone. “Hey! Good to see you, Makoto. Did you see that documentary about spinning yarn?”

Kageyama hummed, looking him over.

“But then, if I was talking to Edano – he’s this other guy from my school – I’d go: Hey! Out of my way, waste of space!” His voice was sharper, rougher and it made Kageyama jump. He hurried to explain: “That’s just how we talk to each other. It’s all in good fun. And say I was talking to someone I was interested in. I’d go with something softer.” Hm. A perfect opportunity and he’d even set it up for himself. Nice going. Teruki softened his smile, let some warmth into his eyes and walked up closer to Kageyama. “Hey,” he said, quietly, tilting his head towards him. “Good to see you. How have you been? I’ve been thinking about you a whole lot since we last saw each other, Kageyama.”

His efforts were wasted on this guy. It didn’t even seem to register, not how it was supposed to anyway. Kageyama’s eyes were wide and his mouth open, but not for any reason Teruki would have wanted them to be.

“That’s amazing,” he said. “How do you do that?”

Well. Teruki preened at the compliments. At least Kageyama could recognize talent when he saw it.

“It’s easy!” he said. “I just read people and shape my response to suit the need! Most people aren’t that complicated to read. One look and I can tell what they want to hear.”

“I think Reigen is a little like that,” Kageyama said at length. “He’s really good at reading people.”

Ah, yes. Kageyama’s after-school work boss. He’d still gotten no solid answer on what it was he actually did. Just that his boss was in the… “consultation business”, or whatever.

“Is that so?”

“Mmh.” Kageyama nodded. “He says that every customer wants to feel special. But that if you are kind, they will often be kind in return. So.”

His boss must have been the source of the self-help book comments Kageyama sometimes sprinkled into their conversations, then.

Ugh. Now he was being compared to someone working in customer service.

“I’m sure that’s a good policy and all,” he said. “But I feel like working with customers is more like putting on a smile rather than trying to perfect your act over a long period of time.”

Kageyama said nothing to that, staring up ahead with an empty look behind his eyes.

Teruki filled the rest of the walk with his own voice, telling Kageyama more about his friendship with Makoto, since the subject had been brought up. Kageyama stayed quiet through most of it, looking preoccupied with other thoughts. He struggled the stairs up to Teruki’s apartment, going slower, breathing heavier and still thinking.

He only opened his mouth once they were sitting down with cups of tea at Teruki’s table, with their homework in front of them.

“So,” Kageyama said. “You are kind of like the doll.”

“The doll?”

“The, um.” He pointed a finger at the shelf and the nesting doll.

Teruki lifted a brow. “What? Are you telling me I got layers?”

Kageyama thought about it a moment and nodded.

Well. Teruki was going to choose to take that as a compliment. He leaned back and waved his hand dismissively.

“Who doesn’t?” he said. “But yeah. You’re right. I’m a complicated person.”

Kageyama hummed in agreement and reached for his cup to take a sip. Teruki… chose to take that as a compliment as well. With Kageyama, it was better to take the win where he could get it, instead of getting stuck with the nitty-gritties.

While Kageyama drank his tea and started working with his homework, Teruki got up and walked to his closet. He pulled out his teal sweater, running a hand over it. He took a look Kageyama’s way. It was kind of cheating, since Kageyama liked the sweater, but there was nothing wrong with cheating, when no one could tell you were doing it. He slipped his jacket off and pulled the sweater over his dress shirt.

He kept running his fingers over the sleeves.

Kageyama was right. It was soft and that was one of its best features.

“What mask are you wearing with me?” Kageyama asked suddenly.

Teruki was caught off guard by the question. He turned away from the sweater to look at him. Kageyama was looking right back, holding tight onto his teacup, homework completely forgotten.

That was a bit of a tricky question. The mask he had with Kageyama was the flimsiest one he had yet, since he hadn’t been able to put together one good enough to actually work. It was still a work in progress.

Teruki tilted his head, then moved closer, walked right next to him. Kageyama’s eyes zeroed in on the sweater and his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach and touch it. Not yet, Teruki thought. He’d offer it to him later, but it was too soon now.

“That’s the thing,” he said, smoothly enough. “I tried the friendly and soft one with you, but it didn’t work. You saw right through it.” He placed his hand on the back of Kageyama’s chair and leaned a little closer. Kageyama didn’t pull back, a testament to the fact that Teruki was making actual progress, even if it was slow. “Much to my disappointment,” he said, deepening his voice a little, “you didn’t really answer to the flirty one either.

Again, there was no reaction to the mention of flirting. This guy was as thick as a brick.

“So what I’m saying is that I’m not sure what mask to use with you, so I’ve been trying to be more genuine.”

Kageyama’s eyes grew a little rounder, a little bigger.

“Really?” His voice was small.

Teruki grinned and fought to keep it from growing sharp. He’d hit the bullseye with that one.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back and ready to bring the whole act to its peak. He rubbed a nervous hand to the back of his neck, laughed a little and looked away. “It’s… it’s been a little weird but… I think it’s also kind of nice. Heh.” Maybe he was taking it a bit too far. He dropped the hand and looked at Kageyama with honest interest. “What do you think?”

Kageyama thought about it carefully, looking him over as if searching for the smallest sign of dishonesty.

“I think… it’s nice,” he said slowly. As if this was something he really needed to think about.

And Teruki had to admit, he was glad to hear that as well.

Because…

Because that meant his plan was working.

Yeah.

Right.

That was the only reason.

Chapter Text

Teruki’s plan was working. There was no denying it anymore. Akemi and the others could complain as much as they liked, but Teruki was winning this and there was no going around it.

The progress was slow. Glacial. And it required much more attention than Teruki had ever used on any of his relationships. But the end results were going to be worth it, he knew it. Just to get to see the look on Akemi’s face. She was going to want to try and worm her way out of it somehow, but Teruki would keep rubbing it in until he was satisfied.

Not that he minded Kageyama’s company. Not at all. But. Business was business.

It was important to keep their good start of a friendship from stagnating and even though they’d found a good, safe space for them to interact, Teruki knew they needed to keep going. It would be easy to get into a pattern of doing things the same way and breaking free of that could be hard for someone like Kageyama.

They needed more. So he experimented with it. He took Kageyama out more. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t and it usually depended on many different factors. If the place they spent time at was filled with people, more specifically loud people, it was a loss right away. There was no salvaging that one, unless they just left and did something else. Sometimes he got spooked by the strangest things, too. More unpredictable things. Certain sounds, loud laughter and scraping chairs, had him on his guard.

It was easiest to just take him home and spend time together. But they needed more.

So Teruki started poking around.

They’d stopped to pet a cat again. A mangy little thing, different one from before, but just as friendly with Kageyama. Teruki had learned to keep his distance while Kageyama made friends.

“You know,” he said slowly. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Hmm?” The cat pushed its head against Kageyama’s side with enough force to make him sway on his feet.

“You’ve been coming over to my place a whole lot,” he said. “But we never go to your place. What’s up with that?”

Kageyama looked at him quickly, then away just as fast. His hand faltered and the cat chirruped.

“Um,” he said. “I think this is better. That I come over to your place instead.”

“Why?” Teruki prodded. “Strict parents?”

That would’ve been pretty easy to believe, actually. With how dodgy Kageyama was. That… that wouldn’t have been good.

But Kageyama just shook his head. “No,” he said. “But. I like coming with you.”

Kageyama wasn’t a good liar. Teruki had realized that pretty early on, but even though he could hear some apprehension from Kageyama’s voice now, he couldn’t hear a lie. A small laugh escaped Teruki’s mouth, unintended. Would you look at that? Actual, admitted progress.

“I’d really want to see your room, though,” he said with a sigh. “I mean, you’ve seen everything I have to offer. How bad could it be?”

Teruki had a feeling he knew how bad it could be. He still remembered the first time Kageyama had come over, the first time they’d actually gotten some progress done and how his phone had been blown up with missed calls and messages from someone named Ritsu.

Teruki tapped his foot and watched Kageyama disregard him and turn back to the cat, like he could just not pay attention to this and it would blow over.

He’d never asked who Ritsu was. He hadn’t found a good way to do that. Not without revealing that he’d been looking over his shoulder.

Now that he thought about it, what did he know about Kageyama as a person?

Not much. He went to Peppermint High, he wasn’t very athletic but wanted to be strong, he liked soft things like cats and sweaters and he had a job.

Teruki’s foot started tapping faster.

He didn’t need to know anything more. Those were enough to get him what he wanted.

He twisted his mouth and looked away, arms crossed and fingers curling around his sleeves.

“Are you okay, Hanazawa?”

He looked back at Kageyama. The cat had climbed to sit on his lap, rubbing its dirty, hairy body against his jacket like it wanted to burrow in and live under it. Kageyama had a small frown on while he patted it absentmindedly.

Teruki had forgotten his mask. He pulled one back on right away, smiling and shaking his head.

“Oh yeah, no, no, I’m fine,” he said. “I was just lost in thought.”

Kageyama looked down, then up again.

“If you want to come over,” he started slowly. “I could…” And then he said nothing more.

This was just causing unnecessary strain. They could stay at Teruki’s place. It was fine. He sighed and knelt down next to him, eyeing the cat with just as much distrust as it was showing his way.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I was just curious. Don’t worry about it.”

Kageyama hummed, running his hands over the cat a few more times.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Damn it. And now he was apologizing. Teruki sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Really. I’m just worried this thing we have is going to like, grow stale.”

He really shouldn’t be saying this. He covered his face.

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked.

Teruki huffed a humorless laugh.

“That we’re going to keep doing the same thing over and over again and it’s going to be boring. And then you’re going to get sick and tired of this and that’s it.”

“Hmm.”

The cat wriggled and Kageyama opened his arms to let it jump off. It stretched, yawned and started cleaning itself after shedding what looked like half its coat onto Kageyama’s jacket.

“I don’t know if I would,” Kageyama said at length. “I think you are… an interesting person, Hanazawa.”

Teruki laughed. “Yeah. Compared to, what? Your how many other friends?”

Kageyama looked down.

Shit. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know how these things work,” Kageyama said slowly, twisting his hands and pulling at his skin. “I don’t… You said it yourself, I don’t have many friends.” He swallowed and looked up at Teruki. “Are you getting bored of me?”

Teruki opened his mouth to say no, of course he wasn’t, but the words didn’t come out. He… wasn’t. He wasn’t getting bored of Kageyama.

The thought of saying it out loud felt weird.

He didn’t know what mask he should’ve been wearing for this, what emotion he should’ve been showing right now.

“I…” he started, unsure how to put it to words, unsure what he even wanted to say with this. “I guess I haven’t had this type of a friendship before.”

Kageyama looked away, looked at the cat as it bowed its back in a stretch before strutting away.

“Me neither,” he said at length.

Kageyama met his eyes right away. Teruki had arrived at their meeting point before him and turned his attention from his phone only to meet a very serious stare.

“Hey,” he said, pushing his phone into his pocket. “There you are.” A little late. He didn’t say that. “Want to get going? It’s a pretty nice weather out. Want to get ice creams or something?”

“Ritsu isn’t home today,” Kageyama said, never once removing his stare.

“Ah,” Teruki said and didn’t how to proceed for a moment. “That’s… good?”

“And my parents will be at work late,” he continued, as if that was going to explain the rest of it.

“Okay?”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Kageyama just looked him in the eye, holding tight onto the strap of his bag.

Teruki was better than this. He relaxed and threw his own bag over his shoulder with a smile.

“You have me at a disadvantage here, Kageyama,” he said lightly. “Let’s start from the beginning. Who’s Ritsu?”

A slight dusting of pink spread over Kageyama’s face and for a moment Teruki forgot what he’d been thinking about. Kageyama ducked away with a dismayed look.

“Oh,” he said, muffled. “Sorry. Um. He’s. My little brother.”

He had a brother?

“No reason to apologize!” Teruki hurried to say, waving his hand around to create an air of nonchalance. “I didn’t even know you had a brother!”

Kageyama said nothing to that, yanking at the straps of his bag between his hands.

Oh. Oh!

“So, we’re going to your place, then?” Teruki asked, clinging onto the carefree attitude with all he had.

“Mmh.” Kageyama nodded. “If you. Want to.”

“Oh yeah, that’d be great!” Teruki said, stepping closer. Ah. The redness was fading, leaving behind the usual complexion and bored eyes. A pity.

They started walking the same way they usually did together. Kageyama seemed quiet. Well, he seemed quieter than usual, which wasn’t saying much. Teruki talked and talked, but barely got a hum in return.

Something wasn’t working here and he knew it.

When they reached a certain point, Kageyama pointed a finger towards the direction he usually walked towards.

“We go here,” he said, nearly inaudible.

Something was wrong and Teruki was going to have to fix it.

“You know,” he said before they could get going. “If you’re not comfortable with taking me with you to your home, it’s fine. I think I was a little pushy last time and I didn’t mean to be. If you don’t want to take me with you, it’s fine.”

Kageyama pulled at his bag, looking indecisive.

“It’s… fine,” he said.

It clearly wasn’t. Teruki drew in a long-suffering breath.

“You know,” he said. “You aren’t that hard to read. I can tell when you’re not comfortable. And I can’t stand it. So we’re not going to your place today. We’re going to mine.”

Kageyama lifted his head and Teruki was disappointed to find that instead of calming down the situation, his words had somehow made Kageyama even more uncomfortable.

“No,” he said, sharper. “No, it’s fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” Teruki said, refusing to take another step.

Kageyama snapped his mouth shut, twisting it a little.

“What’s the problem here?” Teruki asked. “Why are we having this argument? Let’s drop it and go.”

Kageyama looked constipated, staring down at the ground rather than at Teruki, mouth twisted and brows drawn.

“Well?” Teruki snapped. His insides were twisting.

“I don’t. Want you to,” Kageyama struggled the words out, then said nothing more.

Teruki bit his teeth together tight.

“Get bored. Of me.”

All strain left his body in one big, disbelieving sigh.

“What?” he said. “That’s what this is about?”

Kageyama didn’t lift his eyes from the ground when he nodded.

Sheesh. Teruki blew air through his teeth.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere, you know?”

Kageyama stared at the ground for a long while and Teruki shifted. Was he gathering his thoughts or was he not going to say anything?

“I’m not getting bored,” Teruki said, trying to at least get him to look up. “Tell you what. If I am, I’ll let you know. You already know I’m going to be honest with you, right? So I’d let you know the moment I wasn’t having a good time.” He considered it for a moment, before adding: “And I want you to do that with me as well. Okay? If I’m doing something you don’t like, please tell me. Cause, like… I said that you’re easy to read, but I’m not a telepath. Sometimes I miss stuff. Like this. So.”

“Reigen says that communication is important in any relationship,” Kageyama mumbled.

“He’s right, you know?”

He nodded stiffly, then dropped his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Nothing to apologize!” Teruki said, waving his hand around. “I’m the one who made you uncomfortable, so I should be apologizing to you.”

Kageyama lifted his head and looked at him. Teruki offered him a sure-fire hit smile.

And like that, most of the tension was washed away and Kageyama relaxed.

“So,” Teruki said. “My place? I actually got this one movie that I’ve been wanting to watch for a while.”

Kageyama took one step closer, then faltered. He looked back, towards the direction he’d been going towards.

“I’d like you to come over,” he said and turned to look at Teruki.

“Really?” Teruki asked, tilting his head towards him.

Kageyama nodded. “I think… I’d like that.”

Okay! Teruki grinned.

Kageyama didn’t live far. Teruki’s apartment was pretty close to the park and all of that, not really on the best side of the city, but in a pretty decent neighborhood. Kageyama’s place, apparently, was close by, in the suburbs with plenty of middle-class houses.

The house was nice. Pretty basic and suburban, something that reeked of comfortable mediocrity. Teruki was kind of embarrassed to live in an apartment smaller than Kageyama’s house, but he hid away any apprehension he had.

“Mom and dad are usually out late,” Kageyama spoke to the ground. “And Ritsu is – “

The door opened before Kageyama could reach it.

Kageyama Ritsu looked pretty similar to his older brother. A bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges. It was the way that he carried himself that made it so easy to tell them apart. Whereas Kageyama looked like he was constantly trying to make himself look smaller than he already was, Kageyama Ritsu was doing the opposite, looking down at Teruki from the platform of the doorway, eyes narrowed and brows drawn.

“Is this your friend, brother?” he asked.

Kageyama didn’t look up from the ground.

“I thought you said you had student council things today.”

“I did, but we finished early,” he said. He turned to look at Teruki and there was a hard edge to his eyes. He stepped closer and up close Teruki could tell he was a little taller than this guy. It seemed to annoy him, so Teruki offered him a wide smile.

“Hanazawa Teruki,” he said, trying to think of which mask to wear for Kageyama Ritsu. He seemed like the typical overprotective brother type, so polite and kind would probably be the best. But he kind of wanted to mess around with this stiff guy a bit. “Pleasure to meet you.” He offered his hand.

Kageyama Ritsu squeezed it tight, like he was trying to intimidate him and Teruki’s smile gained some edge. He held back just as tight.

“Ritsu,” he said. “So you’re the Hanazawa my brother has been spending so much time with. How nice to finally meet you.”

All kind words, spoken with an edge so sharp the younger Kageyama was going to end up cutting himself if he wasn’t careful.

“Guilty as charged,” he said, laughing a little. Neither of them was willing to be the first one to let go. For a moment they just stood there awkwardly, smiling at each other while Kageyama shifted next to them.

“That’s nice,” Ritsu said. His smile was as sharp as the rest of him.

“Ritsu?” Kageyama said.

“Why don’t we go inside,” he said. “I’m sure Hanazawa would like to get some tea.”

Ritsu stepped back and finally let go of Teruki’s hand. He waved at them to enter and Teruki stepped in first.

“Ritsu,” Kageyama said quietly. “Please don’t.”

He didn’t hear if Ritsu said anything in return.

The air around the house had an oppressing weight to it and Teruki understood a bit better why Kageyama had been so insistent on not coming over. His brother sure was a piece of work.

Instead of letting them sit by themselves, Ritsu followed them into the kitchen while Kageyama started making tea. No sense of privacy with this one. Well. If he wanted to play the part of an overprotective brother, then Teruki was going to let him. It was kind of funny, actually. The way he’d understood it was that Ritsu was the younger brother anyway, so it wasn’t really his role to play, was it? Teruki offered him nothing but wide smiles and tried his best to sand the smug edges off. He must not have been doing that great of a job since Ritsu had nothing but sour looks to give to him in return.

Even though Kageyama took out only two cups, Ritsu brought his own. When Kageyama sat down with Teruki, Ritsu sat down right next to his brother.

“How was your day, Shige?” he asked.

Kageyama looked between Teruki and his brother and seemed just so uncomfortable with the whole situation. He licked his lips, swallowed a little.

“It was… good,” he said.

“That’s great,” Ritsu said and it seemed he’d gotten his cushioning words out of the way, now staring right at Teruki. “So, Hanazawa. You are friends with my brother. That’s really nice.”

He said it like it wasn’t.

“Ritsu,” Kageyama said.

“It’s so good to see other people taking interest in him. He is a good person.” Ritsu’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two meet?”

Teruki was all smiles. “Oh, that’s a funny story, actually!” he said and turned to Kageyama. “Isn’t it?”

Kageyama was rubbing his hands together. “Not really,” he muttered.

“Oh, you’re selling yourself too short!” Teruki declared. “It wasn’t that long ago. It was a sunny afternoon and I was out with my friends. Our meeting must’ve been set by fate. I saw Kageyama and I just knew I had to talk to him. You were a bit shy, weren’t you?”

“Mmh.”

Damn it. He was really making Teruki seem like the bad guy here, pulling away from him like he was suddenly averse to touch again. Teruki’s eyes flew to his scars and then to Ritsu on the other side of the table. The little brother had his fists held tight around his teacup, his expression set.

Teruki wanted to ask what his problem was. He wanted to poke right back at him and show him he wasn’t someone to mess around with. But he couldn’t just start beef with Kageyama’s little brother.

He leaned back in his chair and looked Ritsu up and down.

What did he want? There was always some way to get the brother types to melt. They wanted their sisters treated like princesses, like precious little girls. Teruki ran his tongue over his teeth, smiling at Ritsu inanely.

“You know,” he said. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even know Kageyama had a big brother until today!”

“Little brother,” Kageyama said quietly, his voice drowning under his brother’s, when he said: “Is that so? You must not know my brother so well, then.”

“Oh? I think I do, well enough anyway,” Teruki said. “After all, we’re just getting to know each other.”

“Is that right?” Kageyama’s brother asked. “From what I’ve heard, you two have been spending quite a lot of time together. And yet, this is something you didn’t think important to learn?”

“It just hasn’t come up in a conversation,” Teruki said with a shrug. “It isn’t that complicated.”

He would have laughed at how frustrated Kageyama Ritsu looked right now. It was kind of funny. But that wasn’t really something he should do in front of Kageyama, was it?

“You worry too much, little brother,” he said. “I get it. You want to take care of your darling brother, but – “

“Don’t test me,” he cut in. “Why are you friends with my brother?”

“Ritsu!” Kageyama said a little sharper.

“Answer the question, please, Hanazawa.”

“Why does there have to be a reason?”

He was grinding his teeth.

“Do you have friends at Lemon Zest High School?” he asked instead.

Teruki frowned. What kind of a questions was that? It came out of nowhere. “I’m familiar with it,” he said slowly. “I wouldn’t say I have friends. Just… acquaintances.”

“Really?” Kageyama Ritsu said. “Acquaintances. Friends of friends. Anyone specific?”

“Not really. Look, I’m having a hard time understanding how this –“

Kageyama stood up fast. He was staring at the table with a frown when he grabbed Teruki’s nearly untouched tea, carrying it to the sink and leaving the cup there.

“You wanted to see my room,” he said, his voice a perfect monotone, hiding poorly away the clear anxiety.

Teruki turned to look at the little brother from the corner of his eye. His emotions were far easier to read. Anxiety there as well, just poorly hidden under an ill-fitting mask of aggression.

Something was wrong here. Teruki felt like he was missing a few pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t even known he was building.

When he apparently took too long to think about it, Kageyama’s hand shot forward, fingers curling around his wrist, pulling him up forcefully. Well, as forcefully as he was able to. Had Teruki been ready for it, he could‘ve easily just sat where he was, unmoving. It was the surprise of the act that had him following after Kageyama without a fuss when he pulled him behind him.

Kageyama Ritsu stood up as well, slower. Teruki met his sharp and angry stare and didn’t know what he’d done to earn such emotions.

The usual overprotective siblings were so out of obligation. Because they felt it was expected of them. They played the part and it was all kind of embarrassing to watch. Some of them were just stupid and refused to believe that their darling sibling was growing up and had the right to make their own decisions.

This felt different, though. There were no poorly practiced lines of: “If you hurt them, I’ll kill you,” or any other bile. Just this simmering feeling of a threat and weird questions.

He wanted to ask Kageyama about it, but he was strung tight like a coil and Teruki worried what might happen when the tension broke loose.

What they needed to do now was to calm the situation down. Get Kageyama’s shoulders to relax and the wild look in his eyes to calm back down to the usual dullness. Kageyama looked like he had when he’d left Teruki alone at the café. But this was his own home. He shouldn’t look like this here.

Maybe he’d had a good reason not to invite him over. Maybe his brother was that reason.

There was still something he was missing, though.

Kageyama pulled him up the stairs to the second floor, never once letting go of his arm. Across a hallway and into a room.

It took Teruki a moment to realize that this was Kageyama’s bedroom.

It was… empty. Well, not really empty-empty, but sparse. Spartan. He had a futon and a desk, a small shelf with a handful of books.

Not much else.

Nothing personal, no clothes hanging about, no knickknacks on his desk or shelf, just the bare necessities one needed to live.

Teruki would’ve said it fit Kageyama’s personality really well had he not spent the last couple of months with him. Simple Kageyama might’ve been, but Teruki would’ve at least expected to find a cat plushie or something.

This room looked like no one lived there.

Kageyama hadn’t let go of his arm. Teruki turned his attention away from the room and back to him. His hold around Teruki’s arm was growing tighter. Gripping with enough force to start make his fingers go numb.

He had a cloudy look in his eyes.

“Hey,” Teruki said, soft. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Kageyama said nothing. He did nothing. He just stood there, unmoving, fingers nearly bloodless around Teruki’s arm.

He wasn’t letting go.

Maybe Teruki wasn’t the only one fearing that someone would bolt.

He breathed out a sigh.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It really is. I have a thicker skin than that. Trust me. Your brother couldn’t say anything that would send me packing. He’s not that good.”

Kageyama still didn’t let go.

“I’m not kidding,” Teruki said. “I’m friends with ruder people. I’m not going anywhere. It’s fine, Kageyama.”

Now he was getting it. The grip on his arm loosened until Kageyama let go completely, letting his hand hang free.

“I’m sorry about –“

There was a knock on the door and Kageyama’s mouth snapped shut. Kageyama Ritsu didn’t even wait to hear a response before opening the door and peeking inside, smiling like there was no worry in the world.

Teruki could see the strain in his smile, though. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“How are you two doing?” he asked, all soft words and kindness, when he’d been so much pricklier before.

“We’re good, Ritsu,” Kageyama spoke to the floor.

“That’s good. I’ll be putting the dishwasher on. Do you have anything?”

“No, Ritsu.”

“Okay!”

He pulled back, leaving the door open. Kageyama stood still while they listened to his brother’s footsteps going down the stairs.

“You have… an interesting brother,” Teruki said.

Kageyama had gone mute again.

“A little… protective, is he?”

Kageyama nodded stiffly. His head was lodged deep between his shoulders like he wanted to pull it into his flesh and morph into ball.

Not the ideal situation for anybody, least of all to Teruki.

This really wasn’t doing what he’d wanted this to do. The whole idea felt stupid now.

But there was no greater thing to bring two people together than challenges. Teruki sighed and shook his head, making sure to smile when Kageyama looked up.

“I mean, I’ve met my share of protective big brothers, but this one takes the cake,” he joked. “I mean, we aren’t even dating yet!”

“Little brother,” Kageyama muttered.

“Yeah, no. I got that part. This is really something, though. He seems to have something against me.”

Kageyama didn’t say anything.

“You haven’t told him any unflattering stories about me, have you?”

A stiff shake of a head.

Teruki sighed again. This whole situation was a nightmare. Not only was Kageyama back to square one with his stiff shoulders and unresponsive face, but the whole house was against him. There was nothing here he could latch onto and guide Kageyama’s attention away from his own thoughts.

Teruki was going to have to be enough.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s fine. I’m not… I’m not angry, if that’s what you think.”

Kageyama looked at him. His mouth was set straight, his eyes were unseeing. Teruki licked his lips and took a look at the door.

“We can close that, you know,” he said.

Kageyama stood still for a long moment, like the words weren’t really connecting in his head. Slowly he nodded and moved to the door.

This had been a mistake.

“You like to live simple, don’t you?” Teruki said casually, trying to lighten the mood. “I’d kind of expected you to have dumbbells at least.”

Kageyama’s shoulders started to relax a little.

“Color me surprised,” he continued and moved to the desk, looking it over. Clean, dustless, with only a lamp on it.

“I don’t like… clutter,” Kageyama said.

“Hmm. Yeah. I can see that. But you definitely need some more flair into your life. Just look at this! Do you even spend time here?”

Kageyama shrugged and when he did, his shoulders dropped down to their relaxed position.

“Not really,” he said. “I don’t know how to – “

The door burst open again.

“Do you need anything?” Ritsu asked, all cheers and smiles and the head Teruki had managed to lure out from between his shoulders disappeared back down as Kageyama pulled back. “It’s a little warm out. Lemonade?”

“No thank you, Ritsu,” Kageyama mumbled.

“Okay! Just asking. If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.” When he said the last part, he pressed the words and looked right at Teruki and Teruki could recognize a threat when he saw one. He answered Ritsu’s smile with his own, putting some bite into it and that definitely didn’t help.

When Ritsu pulled back, he left the door open. Again.

Without a moment of hesitation, Teruki walked to it and pulled it shut.

“Your brother has no sense of privacy, does he?” he asked.

Kageyama was looking at the floor, rubbing his arm.

“He,” he started. “He worries. Too much. He’s. Hm. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here.”

Teruki leaned back, twisting his mouth.

Kageyama didn’t have many friends. The jocks from his school. Teruki. No others that he’d talked of.

Teruki ran his tongue over his teeth.

He couldn’t imagine anyone having an easy time getting close to Kageyama with someone like that hovering over their shoulder. He assumed they went to the same high school. Did this Ritsu guy pull this same shtick with everyone he saw around his brother? Or was Teruki just special?

And he kept coming back. Every five to ten minutes, Kageyama Ritsu would open the door to Kageyama’s room, using the flimsiest excuses to get to barge in and snoop around as if something was going to happen while he was away. He’d sneak out of his room next door and Teruki could hear him standing just outside the door, listening before throwing the door open.

Teruki was starting to lose his patience with this. Every single time Kageyama would flinch and pull back. Even though it was easier to lure him out of his shell now, he still shouldn’t have felt the need to pull back into it at all.

Teruki was going to have to come up with a more permanent solution.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked after another visit from the little brother.

Kageyama nodded.

“Now, which way is it again?” he asked, pointing his hands to either side of the hallway.

Kageyama pointed him to the right direction and Teruki hurried off.

He could hear the door to Ritsu’s room creak the moment he was out, soft footfalls following behind him as he made his way to the bathroom. He didn’t give Ritsu the satisfaction of turning around to look at him, even though it was clear that he was close behind. He just kept a steady stare on the bathroom door until he reached it and closed it behind him.

He listened carefully. He heard Ritsu’s steps walk past and towards the stairs. He didn’t hear if he went down, though.

He was being ambushed, and Kageyama’s brother wasn’t even clever about it.

Teruki finished his business quickly but spent time washing his hands. He found four toothbrushes, one electric and three normal ones, all stationed near the sink. Some crinkled magazines were left on a small stand next to the toilet, a phone charger on top of them. A quick look into the cabinet next to the shower revealed generic brand soaps and shampoos and one cheap bottle of conditioner that looked like it saw barely any use. Amateurs, all of them. It was no wonder why Ritsu’s hair looked so frazzled.

He had to wonder, though. Kageyama’s hair looked rather soft, despite the terrible products he was seeing right now. Luck on the genetic draw? Or was he the only one in the house to use the conditioner?

Teruki was going to have to introduce him to better hair care products. Save him some face.

Not that he was going to know him long enough for that to affect anything, of course.

The idea sunk into his stomach slowly. Teruki twisted his mouth. That felt… worse than he’d thought it would. Yes, Kageyama was still a complete nobody, who would amount to nothing and could barely even stand next to Teruki’s brilliance, but… he was still kind of nice. In a simple sort of way.

Being around him, when things were at their best, was easy. Easy in a very different way than it was with Teruki’s other friends. When things were more complicated, like they were here right now, with Kageyama’s brother lurking just outside, ready to finally maybe spit out what his problem was, it was still kind of okay, he supposed. Not as great. But he still kind of wanted to be here.

He just. Preferred when it was just him and Kageyama. It was different.

Well. He had known from a start this was only going to be temporary. Just until he could win his bet.

He was just going to have to enjoy it while it lasted, then. Take everything he could out of it before he’d leave Kageyama to the dust.

Teruki stared at the awful bottle of conditioner.

Well. He could still get him better hair care products. And maybe when it would be time to break this off, he ought to do it softly. Get him that cat plushie to soften the blow. Let him go easily. He owed Kageyama that much at least.

He washed his hands and turned around to look for a towel for visitors. There was none, just four pairs of towels clearly meant for the family. Teruki pursed his lips and just dried his hands on the closest one and opened the door.

He was not at all surprised to find Ritsu waiting for him outside. With his arms crossed and leaning against the wall, Kageyama Ritsu managed to create a believable image of someone who knew what he was doing, even though Teruki could see just how tight his fists were against his arms. He was nervous and he couldn’t hide it.

Teruki, on the other hand, wouldn’t be intimidated by someone so below him. He offered Ritsu a surprised chuckle, as if he hadn’t known to expect the angry brother.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t realize there was a line! Sorry, sorry. Well. It’s free now, if you want to use it.”

Ritsu pushed off the wall and stood up taller. Still not tall enough to intimidate Teruki.

“I actually wanted to talk with you,” he said. “Now that you finally decided to crawl out of my brother’s room. I know you’re trying to avoid me, but this conversation was a long time coming and you know it.”

Teruki tilted his head.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said. “You’ve been needling at me all throughout this meeting and I can’t say I appreciate it, little brother. I’d like to know what the problem is so that we could move on and not let this fester. Don’t you agree?”

Ritsu frowned.

“Well, at least we can agree on that,” he said. “I just need to make sure that you are spending your time with my brother for the right reasons.”

Teruki played innocent. “There are… wrong reasons to do that?”

Ritsu’s look was grim. “Yes,” he said. “There are. So I’m going to ask you one more time. What do you want from my brother?”

Didn’t he mean what his intentions were? Teruki let go of his jovial and inane mask and slipped on something more fitting, going for the more serious tone.

“I’ve got to say,” he said slowly. “I don’t know what exactly you are accusing me of, but I don’t appreciate it one bit. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me this whole time and I’m having a hard time understanding why. Have you never had any friends of your own? Is that it? Is that why you don’t recognize a friendship when you see one?”

“I have nothing against brother having any friends, I just want to make sure he has friends that are there for the right reasons!”

“And why would he need you making that decision for him?”

Teruki was starting to realize why Kageyama had so few friends. He doubted many people would want to stay after meeting this guy.

For some reason, it really got under his skin. His lips pulled into a sneer.

“You’re clearly making him uncomfortable,” Ritsu said. “You should leave.”

“Me?” Teruki said, now honestly a little mad. “You’re telling me I’m the one making him uncomfortable? You’re the one barging in while we’re trying to have a conversation and leaving the door open! Every time I think he’s about to take a breath and relax, in come you and it’s back to square one!”

Ritsu’s eyes grew larger, then narrowed into slits.

“I’m his brother!” he hissed.

“Yeah, and you should try having some faith in him. He’s not a baby you have to keep watching!”

Ritsu’s teeth ground together so hard Teruki could hear it.

“Look,” Teruki said, with a more placating tone and hands up. “I get it, you’re worried. I’m not sure why, but I get it. And I promise you, I wouldn’t spend time with him if I didn’t have a good reason.”

Ritsu studied him with suspicion. “And what good reason might that be?” he asked.

Teruki sighed and thought about it a moment. What to say, what to say? He tilted his head a little.

“Your brother is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met,” he said, truthfully. “And he isn’t even mean about it. He’s… refreshingly honest, if a little dim.”

Ritsu’s eyes steeled over and Teruki realized he’d gone a bit too far. He backpedaled quickly.

“I have other friends, yes,” he said. “But hanging out with them and hanging out with your brother are two completely different things. I like him. Does there have to be some other reason than that?”

Ritsu stared at him in silence for a long moment. When he finally looked away, his mouth was twisting and Teruki could see him trying to hide the fact that it was quivering. Teruki kept the smugness off his features with practiced ease.

“That’s,” Ritsu said. “That’s good, then. Great. Fine. Good to hear.”

Teruki ran a tongue over his teeth in thought. There was something here neither of the two were telling him and he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Something didn’t make sense and he wasn’t being shown the full picture.

Well. He could always pull the well-meaning boyfriend act to seal the deal.

“I like him very much,” he said, softening his words in so much they were nearly inaudible and Ritsu had to lean closer to hear them. “And I understand that you don’t want to see him hurt. I don’t want that either. I’d rather…” He cut the sentence and put in a calculated, little embarrassed laugh. “I’d rather cut off my own head than hurt him. So I get the need to want to keep him safe.”

Bullseye. Kageyama Ritsu sagged down and nodded.

“That’s good,” he repeated and this time the waver had made it to his voice as well. “That’s very good. Thank you. Please…” He bit his teeth together and drew in a shuddering breath. When he looked Teruki in the eye again, his resolve had returned and it was steady and steely. “As long as you keep that in mind, it’s fine.”

“Of course,” Teruki said and nodded.

When Teruki returned back to Kageyama’s room, Ritsu didn’t follow. Kageyama was sitting on the floor next to the door and when Teruki closed it after himself, he looked up and just stared at Teruki for a moment.

“I’m sorry about Ritsu,” he said after a short pause.

Teruki looked around, thought about it a moment and sat down next to him.

“He’s a little protective, isn’t he?” he said. “I think I talked him down a bit. Maybe now he’ll leave us be.”

Kageyama hummed.

“I heard,” he said. “I heard what you said to him.”

Teruki faltered. It was so hard to read the expressions from his face. He wasn’t sure if Kageyama had thought the things he’d said were good or not. He tapped his fingers on his thigh.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “And I meant everything I said.”

Ah. There was a smile there. A small one, but for some reason it made Teruki’s heart stutter.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know… I know Ritsu can be a little overbearing. He has…” Kageyama hesitated. “He wants to make sure I’m fine. He, um. Likes to have talks with people who spend time with me. To. Um. Make sure everything is alright.”

Teruki wasn’t sure if Kageyama could’ve made that sound any more suspicious even if he’d tried. And knowing him, he wasn’t even trying.

“Is there… a reason for that?” he asked carefully, trying the ice.

Kageyama’s eyes glazed a bit and Teruki was ready to backpedal fast, but then he hummed a little.

“No,” he said with a bit of uncertainty. “Well. Not… really. Anymore. He just…” He looked down. “He worries. It’s my fault.”

That was more than Teruki had thought he was going to hear.

“Well,” he said slowly, weighing down his words. “I’m just glad I got him to back off a little. He was really starting to get on my nerves.”

Kageyama hummed again. “He means well,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

Chapter Text

The package arrived late on Monday evening. The courier dropped a heavy cardboard box off at his doorstep and Teruki signed it away.

It was filled to the brim with the newest and best Teruki had been able to find from his usual hunting grounds. Beautiful clothes he’d never be able to wear in public. Teruki almost dove head first into it the moment the courier left, but faltered after digging up a box cutter from his toolbox under the bed.

Without a second thought, he snapped a picture of the box and sent it to Kageyama with a message: New clothes arrived! Want to come see them tomorrow?

The simple answer of Yes came half an hour later and Teruki felt his insides squeezing with excitement. He didn’t think much of it. Couldn’t he just be happy someone else was sharing in his joy of new clothes? That he could actually show this stuff to another living person without the fear of being ridiculed hanging heavy over his shoulders?

He didn’t think about the way his excitement made it harder to fall asleep. His eyes kept wandering back to the box sitting next to his TV set.

It was just the clothes. That was what he was excited about. He could barely wait to get his hands on them. That was why he felt like his stomach was full of something fluttery and light.

Teruki wasted no time dwelling on how eager he was to see what Kageyama’s reaction to all the cool stuff he’d gotten would be like. That was surely secondary.

He didn’t want to think about it, because he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be sleeping the whole night.

Teruki didn’t mention the box to his friends at school. It was on his mind. He kept returning back to it instead of the conversation he was supposed to be taking part in. He could have mentioned about it, theoretically. There were a handful of clothes there he could maybe wear on weekends while hanging out with them, if combined with something more boring. But he said nothing. Teruki found himself pulling out his phone every once in a while, as if to send a message to someone, but there was no one to talk to about it.

Even if he had sent a message to Kageyama, it would’ve taken too long to get a response from him. So it was fine.

He met with Kageyama the same time they always did, and when he got Kageyama in his sights, the excitement was back. He felt like he was going to bounce right out of his skin when he raised a hand to wave at him. Kageyama’s lackluster response did little to calm him down.

His excitement must’ve been contagious, because Kageyama was smiling as well. And it only made his insides flutter more.

“Oh, some of that stuff is absolutely disgusting,” Teruki boasted. “Even you won’t be able to say you like them!”

Kageyama’s smile might’ve been small, but it reached his eyes, filling them with warmth. The rest of him might’ve struggled to show his happiness, but the eyes were a clear tell.

It was enough for Teruki. He knew how much it took to get that kind of expression out of him.

“There’s this one jacket, you don’t even want to hear the price, it was criminal, but it’s made out of holographic fabric and it looked so bad. I’m really hoping it’ll fit, because if I have to send it back, so help me… Maybe I could have it fitted, actually. Because it’s so good. I’m going to keep it either way.”

“I want to see it,” Kageyama said.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing it, alright! It’ll be the only jacket I wear at home for the next month!”

The sound was quiet, like someone trying to cover a cough. Teruki looked at Kageyama from the corner of his eye, watched him laugh against his hand so quietly he could barely hear it.

He felt like he’d just won a medal. Teruki leaned back with a satisfied smirk, preening at the choked sounds of Kageyama’s laughter. Hah. He’d done that! He’d made him laugh. He bet there weren’t many people who could say they’d done that.

Kageyama was still out of breath when they reached his apartment door, but he didn’t need to stop between floors anymore, so that was progress at least.

Teruki was kind of, sort of proud.

“I left it here,” Teruki said, waving a hand at it when they emerged through his kitchen to his living room. He knelt right down next to it and pulled out the toolbox while Kageyama sat down on the other side. He took one box cutter for himself, the better one, grabbing the lousier one and handing it over to Kageyama.

”Here, help me open it up,” he said.

He wasn’t looking at Kageyama, when he did it. He kind of just expected him to grab the box cutter like a normal person and not be weird about it. When he realized Kageyama wasn’t grabbing on, though, he was forced to turn to him.

Kageyama was looking the other way, his whole body twisting like there was something really interesting going on near the wall. Teruki followed his eyes to where he was sure Kageyama was looking and there was nothing there.

The box was right here!

Teruki frowned and waved the cutter at his direction.

He couldn’t tell Teruki was trying to give him the flimsier cutter, could he? If that was the case, he supposed Kageyama could get the better one. After Teruki had cut his side open.

“Kageyama?” he said and pushed the cutter closer.

No response. Not even a flinch. The smile had disappeared off to somewhere and Kageyama’s lips were now a thin line. His hands were squeezed tight on his thighs.

Really? Did he not like clothes anymore all of a sudden or something?

An acidic taste filled Teruki’s mouth.

Right. He must’ve seen the size of the box and decided that Teruki already had enough clothes to last a lifetime. He didn’t need this many, nobody did.

Teruki pursed his lips, tried not to let the bile show.

”Fine!” he said and clicked a few blades out of the cutter.

Kageyama flinched.

Teruki stabbed the shitty cutter into the box and cut a straight line over the tape. Kageyama was kind of the last person he’d assumed would judge him and it stung more than he would’ve liked to admit. But whatever. Not that he cared! He didn’t care one bit! Not really. He was just… surprised. Yeah. Because he hadn’t thought someone like Kageyama would be so judgmental about something that was this important to him.

On the other side of the box, Kageyama got to his feet a little unsteadily and walked off. Teruki heard the bathroom door opening and closing, but didn’t lift his head to look. He could do whatever he pleased!

Teruki pulled out a gorgeous jacket, silver with holographic colors that glinted beautifully in the sunlight. He pulled it on immediately, admiring it through the mirror.

It fit perfectly.

He’d never be able to wear it outside his house.

He’d thought Kageyama would at least like it.

The thought tasted sour in his mouth now.

Fine! Who cared! Not him, that was who. He removed the jacket and dug out a bright yellow pair of jeans. Pretty basic, but it was a good brand. Various other pieces of garments came flying out, but the joy was gone.

Kageyama had been gone for a while now. Teruki worried his tongue over his lips. He leaned back to get a look through his kitchen and towards the bathroom door.

How long was he going to stay there?

Was he sulking?

That was ridiculous. Out of the two of them, Teruki was the one who had any reason to sulk here and he wasn’t, because he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Teruki was acting the best he could and it was Kageyama, who was being ridiculous right now.

He had no reason to act so sullen.

Teruki tapped his foot.

”Kageyama?” he called. ”What’s taking so long?”

He got no response that he could hear.

Fine! Let him sulk. Teruki didn’t care! He didn’t care one bit!

He started gathering the clothes and putting them into his closet. Maybe it was a little cramped. There were lots of clothes he’d never wear, lots of nice, good looking clothes he could only admire and maybe wear while at home, but never outside. It was a shame.

Maybe Kageyama had a point.

Teruki breathed out a sigh.

Fine. He could be the better person.

”Kageyama?” he said, a little softer this time. He walked to the bathroom door. ”You still in there or what?”

No response. Now Teruki was starting to doubt himself. He hadn’t left the house, had he? No, he was pretty sure he’d heard the bathroom door, not the front door.

And his shoes were still by the doorway. So no. He was still here.

He pressed his ear against the door.

Yeah, he could hear Kageyama in there. Breathing loudly?

What the hell was he doing in there?

”I’m coming in,” he declared before opening the door.

The bathroom was dark when he got in, and Kageyama was sitting on the floor, next to the toilet, with his knees to his chest, arms around them and a wild look in his eyes.

He was hyperventilating.

”What the hell?” Teruki said.

Kageyama flinched and pulled away, coiling into himself. Teruki reached for the light switch, then hesitated.

Sweating, hyperventilating, trembling like crazy.

Kageyama was having a panic attack.

Why, though?

”Come on,” Teruki said. ”This isn’t necessary. Calm down, Kageyama.”

The whine Kageyama let out was strangled and weak and it got warbled quickly, when Kageyama clamped down, hitting his hands over his mouth and hiccupping.

Teruki’s hands started to tremble as well.

”Hold… hold on a moment,” he said and stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door after him.

For a moment he just stood there, frozen. Then he bolted to his phone, tapping a quick: How to help someone having a panic attack to the search engine.

God. He had no idea what was going on, but Kageyama was having a meltdown in his bathroom over some clothes and Teruki needed to fix this somehow.

Okay. Okay, good. He could do this. Of course he could, he was Hanazawa Teruki, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

He knocked on the door again, softer.

”Hey,” he said, opening it slower this time. ”I’m coming in again.”

Kageyama hadn’t moved from his spot, hadn’t relaxed one bit either, it seemed, and Teruki honestly felt like his lungs were being squeezed through a tight tube in his chest. What the hell was this? He walked closer slowly, thought about it for a moment, then sat down next to him.

”Hey, uh…” he said. ”I don’t… I’m not sure what’s going on, but I just want you to know that, like, I’m not mad or anything. And like, you’re not in danger here.”

Kageyama didn’t say anything, just sat and shook and kept breathing irregularly. Teruki’s eyes darted to his phone.

”It’s just us two here and no one’s going to hurt you. You can trust me on that one!” he declared, putting as much bravado into it as he was able. ”Nothing bad is going to happen to you while you’re with me and that’s a promise. No one would dare to go against me.”

Kageyama’s hold on his arms was so tight his knuckles had gone white. Teruki considered reaching for the hand closest to him, but thought better of it.

”And like, this is going to pass,” he said quieter. ”I get it. Feels bad. But it’s only temporary. I just want you to know that… no judgment here. We can stay here as long as you like and just, like, breathe together. It’s no big deal. It’s going to blow over, just takes time, right?”

He was breathing calmer now and Teruki tapped his fingers against his thighs. It had been a long time since he’d had panic attacks. He’d been a lot younger. A lot weaker.

He would’ve maybe liked if there had been someone with him there then.

But then again, his panic had come from the thoughts of dying alone.

He drew a shaky breath through his teeth.

”Do you want me to call your brother?” he asked.

A quick shake of his head. Kageyama wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t saying a thing, but shaking his head so hard it looked like it hurt.

”Okay,” Teruki said. ”Okay. Just the two of us, then. That’s good. I like your company better than his anyway. Less likely to get called names with you, right?”

Slowly, very slowly Kageyama started breathing steadier.

“Got to say, though, I do enjoy a challenge. I’m going to make a friend out of your brother yet,” he continued, keeping his voice steady and conversational. “Trust me, with this much charisma, it’s a guarantee. I got you as a friend, didn’t I? And I’d say that was a whole lot harder than softening someone like Little Brother would be.”

Kageyama slumped down and Teruki jumped. For a moment he worried he might have passed out. He reached forward slowly, hand hovering over his shoulder.

“Do you,” he started, then hesitated. “Can I touch you? Just on your shoulder, here?” He nudged Kageyama’s shoulder lightly.

Kageyama nodded.

Teruki put his hand on his shoulder and held it there. He could feel Kageyama trembling a little still, and held tighter.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get to you here, okay? Nothing. You’ve got me here and no one else can get to you, alright? Just keep breathing and it’ll pass. It always passes, right?”

Kageyama’s answer was a low mumble, barely even words there to hear. He started tilting and for a moment Teruki thought he was going to fall, but he ended up leaning against Teruki’s side instead.

Teruki let go of his shoulder and slid his hand slowly around Kageyama’s back until he was holding him against him.

What had happened? He still had no idea. He supposed right now it didn’t really matter, sitting here on his bathroom floor. Not many things mattered right now. He rubbed small circles to Kageyama’s back.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that. Must’ve been half an hour at least, or that was what it felt like anyway. Slowly Kageyama’s breathing got steadier and the last of the strain left his body and still they just sat there.

Teruki had questions. He had so many questions, but he didn’t know how to voice any of them. He didn’t even know if he should or if maybe he ought to just keep it to himself and act like nothing at all had happened.

But something had happened. Something big and he had no idea what.

He didn’t want it to happen again.

He licked his lips and looked at Kageyama from the corner of his eye. His eyes were puffy and he looked wrecked.

Teruki cleared his throat carefully and Kageyama pulled deeper into a slouch.

“You,” he started a little unsteadily. “You want… tea? Would you… Would that be good right now?”

God. That was pathetic. He could do better. Teruki cleared his throat again.

“I think a warm drink might do us some good right now. Or a cold drink, maybe? I’m not… sure. Um. What would you like?”

“Mm.” Kageyama closed his eyes. “Milk.”

Milk? “I don’t think… I have any,” he said at length.

“Mmh.” Kageyama buried his face into his crossed arms and let out a stuttered sigh.

“I can get some for the next time you come over.”

Kageyama said nothing.

Teruki shifted. “Would tea be okay for now?”

Another hum. There was no reading that. Teruki licked his lips again, then started moving away from Kageyama, slowly, but deliberately.

“I’ll make us tea. Just a moment. I’ll leave the door open, okay? So you can see me?”

He got no reply, but moved to get up anyway. He tried to be slow and precise in his movements, clear in what he was doing and unsurprising in everything. He stepped into his kitchen and put water into a kettle. He watched the water start boiling slowly, the bubbles rising to the surface.

When the water started making noise, he heard shifting behind him, clothes ruffling and soft footfalls on the floorboards. He didn’t turn around, just kept watching the water.

“I’m sorry.”

Kageyama’s voice was small and hoarse. Like a whispered croak.

Teruki thought about what voice to use. Did he want to be dismissive? Say it like it had been no big deal? Or warm and supporting, reminding Kageyama that he was safe here?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what to say and what to do.

He cleared his throat, feeling like it was filled with something suddenly.

“What…” he started, unsure if he should say anything at all. “What… happened?”

Kageyama stopped just behind him. Teruki could feel him there more than see. He wanted to turn around, but at the same time, he worried that if he did, Kageyama would skitter right back into the bathroom. So instead he took the kettle off the stove and reached for cups to pour the water in.

Kageyama said nothing for a while. Teruki tried to pretend like he wasn’t holding his breath.

“The,” Kageyama started, then said nothing for a while.

Teruki felt dizzy. He stared at the two cups of steaming water.

“The box cutter,” Kageyama said at length.

The box cutter?

The box cutter. What did that mean?

Teruki wasn’t sure if he could ask.

He turned around slowly, holding the cups.

The box cutter. They couldn’t go back to the living room. The cutters were there. Teruki couldn’t think of a way to hide them without drawing attention to it.

He offered the cup to Kageyama, who took it without really looking like he was seeing it. Teruki took out the teabags and sat down on the floor.

Kageyama stared at him a moment longer, before sitting down next to him, their backs against the counter while their teas were getting ready.

Teruki had so many questions he wanted answers to. But he could recognize the selfish need behind them. Kageyama didn’t want to talk and he didn’t want to talk about it specifically.

So Teruki did what he knew best.

He talked about himself.

He talked about a test he’d aced last week, he talked about soccer practice and he talked about one specific knickknack his parents had sent him from China, a smiling Buddha statue holding a bowl. All things that had been brought up before, things that were familiar and recognizable, things that had a familiar pattern to them.

Kageyama said nothing through the whole thing, just sat there and drank his tea in silence and every moment he said nothing, Teruki felt a weird hollowness just beneath his heart growing a little larger.

There had to be something he could say that would make this better. There had to be. There was no conversation Teruki couldn’t turn into a win.

There was no way he wasn’t going to be able to turn this back around.

“Hold still,” he said, putting his cup back down. “I want to show you something.”

Kageyama looked at him with tired eyes, not really looking like he was actually seeing anything at all. Teruki hurried out of his kitchen and into the living room. He dove into the box and pulled out the holographic jacket. He pulled it on right away and took a long breath. He steadied himself, then sauntered back to the doorway.

The dim light of the kitchen lamp wasn’t ideal, but Teruki made it work, doing a little spin as he stepped back in.

“For your consideration,” he said. “The best jacket mankind has seen.”

That. That did it. Teruki watched how Kageyama’s eyes grew larger and he reached a tentative hand towards it. Teruki felt the inexplicable feeling of relief washing over him as he offered his arm down to him and Kageyama ran his fingers over the smooth, pliant surface of the jacket in wonder.

“Terrible, right?” Teruki said and his voice was weak in his ears.

Kageyama opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out of it was a weird little croak. His mouth snapped right back shut, the shine dying from his eyes.

Not happening.

“I know, right?” he said, lifting a hand and reaching for that small glint of light above head that made the jacket glimmer. “Leaves you speechless, doesn’t it? More magnificent than any regular old jacket, that’s for damn sure!”

That’s right. Teruki knew what he was doing. He was winning this. Kageyama’s eyes softened and his shoulders went down.

“I think,” he started and swallowed a few times while Teruki tried not to look like he was straining his ears to hear every word he said. “I like it.”

“Well of course you do!” he declared loudly. “You, just like me, have an eye for brilliance. You and I, Kageyama, we are ahead of our time in our understanding. This,” he said, doing another spin, “is what peak fashion looks like!”

It wasn’t a smile, exactly. Teruki caught it just from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t a smile, but it was close to one. A softening of Kageyama’s eyes, warmth spilling over his features.

Teruki felt like he could breathe again.

“You know what?” he said. “This is perfect. Let me give you a proper fashion show. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, this is the best way to judge these clothes. You sit right there, Kageyama, and I’ll show you what I bought. Does that sound like something you want to do?”

Kageyama cradled his tea cup in his hands, still looking a little shaken, but leaps and bounds better than a moment ago. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He nodded instead.

“Good. Perfect! Sit tight, Kageyama, and prepare to be wowed!”

They went through the entirety of his new clothes, one or two at a time, Teruki making a big deal out of all of them. And through the whole thing, he managed to get Kageyama to relax again. They didn’t get to how things had been before the whole box cutter thing. There was no laughter, no smiles, just comfort.

Comfort was better than sobbing. Teruki cranked up his charisma to a hundred and kept the show going as long as he could.

By the end of it, though, he felt exhausted.

By the end of it, he wouldn’t have wanted to let Kageyama leave. Not in the state he was in. Tired and shaky.

“Want me to text your brother to meet you half way there?” he asked, watching over Kageyama while he pulled on his shoes.

Kageyama turned to look up at him. He hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“Good! That’s a good decision,” he said, pulling his phone out. He’d wrangled Little Brother’s number out of him just in case he needed it in the future.

He gnawed on his lip for a moment before typing: Something happened with Kageyama. He had a bad day. He’s leaving for home now. Meet him halfway there?

The response was almost immediate. Teruki pulled his own shoes on.

“What are you doing?” Kageyama rasped.

“Making sure you’ll get home safely. What does it look like I’m doing?” he said, deflecting the questions in Kageyama’s eyes with a shrug like there was nothing to it.

After a moment of reluctance, he pulled on his new, holographic jacket.

He wasn’t going to be out for long.

The sun was already setting by the time they got out. The sky was colored red and orange, like someone had set it on fire. Teruki walked close to Kageyama, trying to be subtle about keeping an eye on him.

They met with Little Brother close to the midway point to the Kageyama house. The anxiety in him was clear from the other side of the street. He was fidgeting with his hands. Little Brother looked like he’d left in a hurry with his jacket on skewed and the other shoe untied. When they saw each other, he immediately cut the distance between them and put his hands on Kageyama’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Kageyama muttered. “I’m fine.”

Little Brother opened his mouth, but Teruki spoke up first.

“Of course you’re fine!” he said loudly. “But you’re going to be feeling a lot better at home, with a glass of milk. Right?”

Kageyama looked at him for a long time, his expression softening slowly. He nodded.

“Good,” Ritsu said. “Let’s get going, then.” His hand moved from Kageyama’s shoulder to his back, pushing gently.

He turned to look at Teruki before they got going, though.

Teruki was having a bit of a hard time reading his expression. Like this, it was easier to remember that he and Kageyama were related.

“Thank you for contacting me,” he said, barely audible.

“No problem, Little –“

He was already turning away to lead his brother back home.

It was fine. As long as Kageyama could get back home safely.

He turned on his heels and started making his way back.

His thoughts were gnawing at his mind. Incessant little feelings about what had just happened.

It was clear that there was something big Teruki was missing. It’d been clear for a while. The scars that weren’t meant to be talked about, Kageyama’s aversion to being touched, his whole attitude. Ritsu’s attitude.

And now this.

Teruki didn’t understand it.

He wanted to, but he didn’t.

He marched faster, digging his hands into his pockets.

“Hey, man. Cool jacket!”

A complete stranger from across the street was waving at him and Teruki realized immediately he was complimenting him, because of course he was.

It took a little longer to realize he was complimenting the jacket.

Teruki preened at the comment, puffing his chest.

“I know, right?” he yelled and hurried back home.

His apartment was quiet when he closed the door behind him. Dark. He reached for the light switch, bathing his kitchen in a dim, yellow light.

Everything felt just a little surreal right now.

What a day. What a weird, strange day.

He dragged his feet across the kitchen and entered his living room, where he’d left the clothes lying around on his bed, on the backs of the chairs and on top of the cardboard box they’d come in.

Teruki stepped to the box and knelt down, picking up the cutter. The shitty one. Pale blue, plastic handle. Flimsy.

It was just a box cutter.

He stared at it, without really seeing it. Turned it in his hands.

He didn’t get it.

Teruki stood up, clicked his tongue and grimaced. He walked to the toolbox peeking from under his bed and dropped the cutter there, then kicked the box back under. Unseen and forgotten, never to be picked up again.

Who needed box cutters anyway? He could use scissors from now on.

Chapter Text

Sitting down to eat lunch with his friends was like taking a dip in the ocean while the sharks were feeding. If he was careful, he could make it without getting chopped to pieces, but being careful had never been one of his strong suits.

Reiko and Mitsuru were fighting about something again and were no longer in speaking terms. Despite that, they all still had to sit around the same table, because if they didn’t, it would set out rumors that the Saffron High royalty was crumbling. And that would make the bottom feeders feel bolder, as if they could approach them as they pleased with their hungry, hungry maws.

Teruki leaned back on his chair and watched Reiko and Akemi speak over each other about some unlucky guy Akemi had gotten into her claws now. They were pouring over his Instagram, picking apart everything they could find, ripping him into shreds with words.

Teruki didn’t really want to contribute. Other than himself, he’d always thought Akemi had a bad taste in guys. She always went with these self-important, self-centered pricks, who thought they were so much better than everyone around them. How Akemi had ended up choosing a first-rate pick like Teruki after loads of guys like that and then gone right back into the pity pile, he could never tell.

He was starting to get bored not being the center of the attention, though. Lately it seemed that the only thing these people wanted to talk to him about was the bet. Nothing else he brought up was ever good enough, they always went back to the same old stuff. No, they couldn’t talk about new movies or music, no, they couldn’t talk about the latest, embarrassing love letter Teruki had found in his locker. No. Every time he opened his mouth, they had to talk about the bet and how they still thought he was losing it, even though he so clearly wasn’t.

Opening his mouth was only going to bring him misery right now.

But at the same time, every moment spent listening to Reiko fawn over this new guy while Akemi berated him was making Teruki wish for a quick and just end.

He lifted a hand and ran it down his face.

Typical.

“So,” Koichi said, turning away from the girls. “Did you get to see that one new movie?”

Teruki curled his lip.

“Like I’ve had any time to go see movies,” he said.

And there we go. Like pulled by a magnet, all eyes turned to him and all they cared about was the bet.

“Any progress with… that guy?” Koichi asked.

“Yeah,” Akemi said, crossing her arms on the other side of the table. “It’s been a while since you’ve given us an update on the fish-eye boy.”

Reiko giggled behind her hand.

Teruki bit his teeth together and rolled his eyes forcefully.

“That’s because there’s nothing to tell,” he said, then realized how that could be interpreted. “It’s at a delicate point right now. Not that you’d understand. All the nuance would go over your heads, so why even bother?”

“Riiiight,” Akemi said, looking around the table with a smile too knowing. “I’m sure you’re super close to making it. Right guys?”

Mitsuru huffed and returned back to the book he’d been reading as if the conversation was way beneath him.

“I’m sure Teru is doing his best,” Koichi said. “He just got a tough customer.”

“Yeah, I’m sure too,” Reiko said with a tone that very much said the opposite.

He had nothing to tell these people. Nothing he said was going to be enough for them. Unless he could bring real dirt to avert their attention.

Teruki tapped his foot impatiently.

It was fine. He had nothing to prove to these people.

“I think it’s pretty pathetic that you think you have to keep lying to us,” Reiko said.

“I think it’s sad that you think we’re going to buy it,” Akemi said with a smile.

Teruki bit his teeth together.

“What do you expect for giving me a guy who’s afraid of box cutters?” he spat out.

“What? For real?” Koichi asked.

“That’s so funny!” Akemi said. “How’d you find out?”

Something tight was coiling around Teruki’s chest. He didn’t recognize the feeling, but it made him feel sick. He forced a smile on, biting down on the bile he could taste rising to his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m serious. He had a full-on panic attack at my place last time he was there. So sorry if I’m taking things slow. Got to make the treatment fit the patient and you guys were the ones who picked a clear loser with scars on his hands.”

“Okay, fine. Sheesh,” Akemi said, turning away. “No need to pull a hissy fit about it.”

Koichi fidgeted on his seat.

“You know,” he said. “If you feel like that guy is unstable or something, maybe you shouldn’t –“

Teruki shot him a look dirty enough to silence him. Koichi pulled back, turning away.

“Sorry,” he said. “I mean, you’d know best.”

“Yeah,” Teruki spat out the venom he could feel twisting in his stomach. “I do. Stop bothering me about it.”

Afterwards, when he was on his way to his next class, he felt miserable. He stared at the ground with a scowl.

He was feeling awful.

He supposed it was time to admit why.

His friends had a point. It had been a long time since he’d made any big progress. It looked like his relationship with Kageyama was just going to end up being a dysfunctional friendship.

He glared at his shoes. He didn’t want to talk about Kageyama with them anymore. He didn’t like how these conversations made him feel. If they just stopped asking about it, it’d be fine. But they’d never drop it. If he tried to avoid it, that would be a message in and of itself. A sign of weakness that would end up with him torn to pieces.

They should just stop talking about Kageyama.

He still kept spending time with Kageyama after school, though. It was clear it wasn’t going to lead into anything, but time after time Teruki found himself looking for his company.

The moment he’d be forced to admit his loss, it would be the end of it. The carefully crafted friendship would be over and Teruki would have to cut him out of his life.

He was just making it worse for himself.

The weird thing was, he thought while not listening to the history teacher drone on, that Teruki sometimes caught himself thinking how he’d much rather spend time with Kageyama than these vapid people. Which was stupid, of course. Comparing Kageyama to his friend group was pointless. The choice was clear. One would keep him as the king of school, as the unchallenged royalty. The other didn’t really have anything else to offer but a guy he kind of liked.

It was easier not to think about it. He saved himself plenty of sleepless nights by shoving the thoughts down and smiling through them.

It would seem that despite his best attempts, Akemi had seen through his discomfort, though. That really was the worst-case scenario, because when one shark smelled blood in the water, they all gathered to feed. Akemi just couldn’t leave it alone. Not, if she could get Teruki squirming.

”You’ll never guess what I found out today,” Akemi said that afternoon, when they’d all gathered around the same table at their café. It was easy to tell from her smile alone that she was ready to hurt some feelings. She was smiling like a cat with a canary.

”What?” Reiko asked.

”My friend actually has a friend who knows Kageyama.”

”What?” Teruki said, lifting his attention from his cake. ”Really?”

That was news. Kageyama wasn’t the type of a person to remain on people’s minds. He didn’t register easily if you weren’t paying attention.

To have someone with their status acknowledge him outside the bet was weird.

”Yeah!” Akemi said, her voice dropping into conspiratory whisper. ”I showed my friend his picture, and she swears he used to go to her school like few years ago until he got kicked out or something! Turns out he’s actually pretty famous in Sesame Middle School. I heard he attacked a girl there!”

”What?” Teruki repeated, this time his tone more disbelieving than before. This was clear hogwash.

”Yeah! There’s this girl, Asagiri Minori. I heard he attacked her!”

”Ew, that’s so scary!” Reiko exclaimed, flapping her hands. ”You should stop seeing him if he’s like that, that’s dangerous! What a creep!”

Oh, Teruki could see what they were trying to do now. They were trying to get him to quit. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. ”You’re going to have to try a little harder than that,” he said.

”No, I’m serious!” Akemi said. ”It’s true, I swear! I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t worried about you! She told me Asagiri had to be taken to the hospital! He’s clearly unhinged!”

That was a little hard to believe. Teruki gave them a wry smile.

“Really?” he said. “Sure. He seems just the type.”

With his soft words and kind smiles and all that. Definitely the type to attack someone unprompted.

But it wasn’t enough for these people. They’d found their new point to pick at.

“I don’t know, he kind of looks like the kind of a creep who’d do something like that,” Mitsuru said.

“Yeah, something about the eyes,” Reiko agreed, then waved her hands. “Ew, I’m getting chills. You think that’s why he’s so weird?”

Akemi crossed her arms and smiled smug.

“I don’t know,” she said, feigning worry. “Should you really spend so much time with someone like that, Teru? You sure it’s safe?”

“Cut it out, Akemi,” he spat. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

“Whatever!” she said scoffing and threw her head back. “Be paranoid. I don’t care. When they find your corpse in the river, I’m going to say I told you so.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Reiko said, but she was laughing too.

Teruki squeezed his hands tight around his fork. He wasn’t going to believe a word of it. Akemi was the least trustworthy person in his life if you didn’t count his parents. The last thing he was going to take was her word.

But then again, it would be just like her to choose a guy for Teruki, who was mentally unstable like that.

He ran a tongue over his teeth, staring at his untouched cake. The others started to talk about something else, but Teruki could still feel Akemi’s eyes on him.

He couldn’t show them anything. Not now. He needed his unflinching front to last through this. Otherwise they’d just sink their teeth deeper and rip him to shreds.

What Akemi was saying didn’t match with what he was seeing with his own eyes in Kageyama. Which meant it couldn’t be true. It was as simple as that.

Teruki couldn’t let them get to him.

He had to admit it to himself, though. Akemi’s words made him think.

Asagiri was kind of a familiar name. Another rich kid from a different school. Teruki was pretty sure they’d spent time together before at some point. Now that he was thinking about it, he could remember the rumors. She’d gotten into some sort of an accident. There’d been some talks about it. She’d ended up switching schools, but the news had blown over quickly.

She’d kind of disappeared from their circles after that.

Teruki hadn’t known her personally. A friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend kind of a situation.

She went to Lemon Zest High these days.

Teruki stared at his plate without really seeing a thing.

The thoughts sank slow into his head.

He thought about Kageyama’s little brother, about box cutters and scars.

His stomach was churning.

He wanted to ask about it. But he didn’t know if he could. He couldn’t mention it to his friends. He couldn’t talk to Little Brother about it either.

Kageyama had a lot of things he didn’t want to talk about. A lot of things that still made him shut down even after all the time they’d spent getting to know each other. Even someone like Teruki couldn’t just go ahead and ask about it without making Kageyama uncomfortable. He was either going to bring it up himself, or Teruki would never know.

Which meant that Teruki would never know.

He tapped his fingers against his thigh.

He could, in theory, look up Asagiri and ask her.

No. Teruki leaned back and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to. It wasn’t any of his business. Clearly this was just Akemi’s ploy to get him to quit. She must’ve though he was close to giving up already, since she was coming to him with excuses like this.

Teruki didn’t like how clearly she was able to read him.

He’d have to try harder to hide things.

At this point, it was losing game anyway.

He wasn’t sure why it wasn’t bothering him as much as it had before.

He walked home alone on Friday. Kageyama had work on Fridays, so it wasn’t like there was anything new about it. He made his way home, dropped his bag on his bed and stared out for a moment.

Kageyama was going to come over after work. It’d been decided already and Teruki was glad.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about what Akemi had said.

Much as he hated to admit it, she’d gotten under his skin this time. The words had gotten in and stuck.

It wasn’t like he believed a word of it.

Well. Most of it was probably lies.

But the best spun lies always had truths sown into them.

He didn’t want to think about it. But it was kind of hard not to. He didn’t know why it was going around and around in his head, but he was sure it was all Akemi’s fault and it made him so mad. She had no right ruin the good thing they got going here.

Sometimes Teruki found himself hoping that the bet had never been a thing in the first place. That he and Kageyama had just gotten to know each other naturally. He would’ve been a little less of an asshole and Kageyama would’ve been a bit quicker to warm up to him.

Sometimes he thought about holding his hand while they walked back home after school.

He was sure it was nothing.

Teruki grit his teeth together. It was fine. They were going to be meeting after Kageyama’s work and he wasn’t going to bring it up. He was going to bury it somewhere deep, where it wouldn’t matter anymore. When the two of them were together, the last thing he wanted to think about was his other friends.

The wait was killing him. Nervous energy was making him twitchy.

Kageyama was still at work. He’d be there for a while. Teruki tapped his fingers. He was so bored and he just wanted to spend time with somebody. He checked the time on his phone and disregarded the messages in the group chat.

Two hours still until Kageyama would be out.

Teruki sighed and threw his head back. What a bore.

Well. He could get things done. Since he wasn’t spending time with his friends right now, he ought to finish his homework. He had time.

Teruki killed about half an hour writing a few more paragraphs into an essay he couldn’t care less about. Every couple of minutes his eyes wondered to the clock on the side of his laptop. It was a disappointment each time.

Guh. This was such a drag. He pushed the computer aside and started pacing.

He should clean up a bit. He had time. Load up the dishwasher. Wipe the surfaces in his kitchen. Yeah. He could do that.

That took him a quarter of an hour.

His phone buzzed once and Teruki made a beeline for it.

Oh. Reiko had sent a picture to their group chat of her and Mitsuru getting ice creams from that one fancy, Italian styled café near the city center.

He wondered if Kageyama liked ice cream. He didn’t seem like the type to have expensive tastes, but maybe he’d like something simple.

Teruki stared at his phone for a moment, then chose Kageyama’s name from the contacts.

I’m so bored, he typed, then erased the text and thought about it for a moment. How’s it going? he wrote instead. Teruki twisted his mouth and started tapping his foot. He was going to need something to add to that. It’s a nice day out. Want to get ice creams after work?

He wasn’t really expecting an answer back, not before Kageyama would be out of work anyway. He was surprised to see the three dots appearing soon after. Teruki tapped his foot faster, anticipation growing despite knowing better.

We could walk together, Kageyama wrote, quickly followed by a: If you want to.

Teruki’s heart started beating faster.

Oh? he wrote. You want me to come and meet you at your work?

Yes.

Teruki grabbed his keys and was out of the house before he could get the words: On my way, out.

He had the general idea where the office Kageyama worked at was. He’d walked him there before.

He still wasn’t sure what it was exactly that Kageyama did. He was a receptionist of some sort, that much he’d gotten out of him, but for what, he didn’t know. He sometimes talked about the two men working there, Reigen and Serizawa. He seemed fond of them both, so they must’ve been good enough people. Not that Teruki had had the chance to meet them.

He’d thought that Kageyama would introduce them eventually, when he felt comfortable enough.

He supposed this was going to be the day, huh?

As if he needed more reasons to get nervous.

He made his way to the office at twice the speed he normally would’ve. He hardly even paid attention to his surroundings in his hurry to get there.

The office building itself was clean and nice. Not on the wealthiest side of the city, but not the poorest either. There were lots of rented office spaces in the same building. It was hard to tell which one was Kageyama’s from the outside. Teruki slowed down his pace in front of the place, looking it up and down. Some companies had their names on the side of the building, but none of them rang a bell.

Teruki was just about to pull out his phone to send a message to Kageyama, when a man passing him by slowed down and turned to look at him.

”Oh,” the man said. ”Are you…? Uh. Are you by any chance Hanazawa?”

Teruki looked the tall man up and down. He didn’t look familiar, not enough to know him by name anyway. He looked old enough to be a teacher, but too nervous to actually work with other people. Teruki’s eyes narrowed.

”Yes,” he said. ”What’s it to you?”

”Ah! Serizawa,” he said, thrusting his hand to Teruki. It was warm and moist against Teruki’s and he had to fight the urge to wipe his hand clean on his jacket afterwards. So this was Serizawa then.

”I’ve… Kageyama has talked about you before,” he said.

”Oh?” Teruki said, interested. ”Nothing bad, I hope?”

Serizawa laughed nervously.

”No, no,” he said. ”Well. Um. I mean, no. Nothing bad.”

The look on Teruki’s face soured. He’d been too relaxed to catch the emotion before it was out and Serizawa jumped, waving his hands.

”I mean, nothing bad after you two got to know each other! And Kageyama isn’t really the type to speak ill of anyone. It’s just that he and Reigen talk a lot about lots of different things during his counselling and I hear some of it and –” He let out a sound like he was choking and swallowed the following words before they could make it out.

Counselling? Teruki had thought Kageyama was working here, not getting counselling.

He tried to think back to what Kageyama had said about his work. The things that had been brought up were precious few.

Serizawa looked like he was sweating through his cheap suit.

”Don’t worry,” Teruki said, finding the right tone and smiling. ”I’m sure every relationship starts with a little bit of healthy suspicion. I’m glad Kageyama has someone to talk to about it.”

The man relaxed visibly. He waved his hand at the door and they stepped in. Teruki followed after him to the elevators.

”Ah,” Serizawa said. ”It really is. It can be so hard to talk about things that…” He fell silent for a moment and looked away, trying to make it look natural while they waited for the elevator to arrive. ”Things that… are… difficult.”

Not a big talker this one either, huh? Teruki felt the grip on his mask softening a little. He kind of reminded him of Kageyama.

He looked away as well.

The office itself was nice. Small and tidy. Teruki followed after the man into what looked to be a waiting area, with a couple of couches and plants between them. There was a receptionist’s desk near the door.

”Um,” Serizawa said and waved at the desk. ”I’ll. You can. Wait by the couches. Kageyama will be out in,” he checked his watch, ”ten minutes. So if you want to – ”

”I’ll go ahead and sit down, then, if you don’t mind,” Teruki cut in.

The couches were comfortable enough. In a cheap sort of way. This place looked like it’d seen plenty of customers over the years. Teruki studied the magazines left on the table nearby and decided they weren’t worth his time. He made himself comfortable and pulled out his phone to mess with.

He was having a hard time concentrating on anything.

He had so many questions. But. He wasn’t sure if he had any right asking them. Kageyama had invited him to come here. It’d been his idea, so surely he’d expect Teruki to want to know more. But at the same time, Teruki didn’t want to butt into his business and make him feel uncomfortable now that he was opening up a little.

Teruki kept going through the same apps on his phone over and over again. He saw the group chat getting some messages, but muted it for a while. He’d have a look later to see what Mitsuru and Reiko were fighting about now. Probably the ice cream.

A door leading further into the office opened and Kageyama stepped through. He looked around and spotted Teruki, his face brightening immediately and it had Teruki’s insides doing backflips.

”You’re here,” he said.

”Yeah, I got here like…” He gave a cursory glance at his phone as if he was actually checking. ”Five minutes ago. You about ready to go?”

”In a minute,” Kageyama said and walked out.

After him, followed a man. Taller than Kageyama, but shorter than Serizawa, the man was dressed in a suit even cheaper than the one his coworker wore. His tie looked like it’d been a part of a three-in-one set for 500 yen at a local store.

The man gave him one look, smiled widely and strutted forward, hand held in front of him.

”Hanazawa, I assume?” he said.

Teruki got up and took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

”And you must be Reigen, then.”

”Guilty as charged!” Reigen said and laughed.

Well. At least one person in this office had charisma.

Teruki’s thoughts grew sharper immediately. He knew what this was. Reigen was smiling all open and nice, but Teruki could recognize what meeting a father figure looked like. He had to tread carefully here. He didn’t have that much experience in this area.

”So, you’re planning on getting ice cream together?” Reigen asked.

”That’s right,” he said, back straight and head held high. “I saw that some of my friends went out and thought that sounded like a good time.”

”Oh? That’s nice. So you’re going to be meeting with your friends, then?”

”Oh, no, no, no,” Teruki said, waving his hands. ”Just Kageyama and I.”

”That’s nice. That’s nice.”

”Um.”

They both turned to Kageyama, now wearing a light jacket, with his bag in his hands.

”Ready to go?” Teruki asked.

”Yes. Well. I’m just… going to use the bathroom first.”

And leave him alone with these two here? Kageyama truly could be heartless sometimes. Teruki didn’t let go of his smile, just waved his hand.

”Go ahead!” he said.

Ah. Alone with the dads. Teruki knew for a fact that Kageyama had his own father at home, but he talked about him even less than he talked about these two and now he was feeling the pressure of this Reigen guy’s stare.

”So,” Teruki said carefully, trying to decide how to approach this.

”Relax, kid,” Reigen said, waving his hand. ”We’re good. Taking Mob out for ice creams was a good idea. You should’ve seen how happy he got about it.”

”Mob?” Teruki repeated slowly.

”Ah, I mean Shigeo.”

A weird nickname. Well. It wasn’t Teruki’s place to judge.

”So, Reigen,” Teruki said. ”What is it that you actually do for a living?”

Reigen lifted his hands and waved at his office.

”I’m a counsellor,” he said, as if that was the most obvious thing.

”Oh, I see,” Teruki said. ”Sorry. It just… hasn’t come up in a conversation. I was aware that Kageyama worked as a receptionist, I just didn’t know… like… in what capacity.”

The look in Reigen’s eyes grew softer and he looked down.

”He’s a good kid,” he said, then moved closer and patted his hand on Teruki’s shoulder. ”I’m glad to see he’s made a friend out of you.” He walked past him towards Serizawa. ”So, no more clients for the day,” he said. ”Want to leave early?”

Whatever he said, Teruki didn’t hear it, because Kageyama had returned.

Teruki hurried to his side. ”Want to get going now?”

Kageyama nodded and they were out of the building. The two men shouted their goodbyes and went off to the direction of the bus stop.

”So,” Teruki said slowly, weighing down his words. ”A counsellor’s office, huh? I guess we talked about it before, but I don’t remember much of it.”

Kageyama hummed and for a moment he just thought about it.

”Reigen works… with lots of schools,” he said at length. ”He’s… specialized in pediatric psychology.”

”That’s nice,” Teruki said, when he couldn’t think of anything else.

Kageyama hummed again.

”I’ve been going to his place for a few years now.”

He needed to tread carefully here. Kageyama was being very open with him and the last thing he wanted to do was to make him feel like he couldn’t talk to Teruki about this.

”So you’ve… worked for him since middle school?” he said carefully.

Kageyama nodded his head, then seemed to freeze mid motion and twisted his lips.

”Reigen, he… He’s helped me out with a lot of things,” Kageyama said. “I was… Hm.” He looked down at his hands, stretched his fingers and ran them over the scars. “I was in a bad place when I came here.”

Teruki swallowed the words as soon as they tried to climb out.

”I didn’t maybe… realize how much help I needed,” he continued. ”And I didn’t want to go to… therapy. Worry mom and dad. And Ritsu. I thought it would just go away since I’d changed schools, but it… didn’t. So.” He gathered his thoughts for a moment, a cloudy look in his eyes. “Reigen offered me a job instead. Said he needed. A receptionist. I didn’t get what he was doing at first. But. He was nice. And.” Kageyama fell silent for a moment. ”He’s a good person.”

”In that case, I’m really happy you met him,” Teruki said. ”Seems like he’s helped you out a lot.”

Kageyama looked relieved. He nodded.

”He has,” he said. ”He’s easier to talk to. And he’s really funny.” He gave it a little thought. ”We were talking. Today. About. Um. How important it is to tell the people around you how you feel.” He looked down. ”Both when you’re feeling bad, but also… when you’re feeling good. Because people can’t always read how you feel just by looking at you.”

”That’s good advice,” Teruki said. ”Not a lot of people have the abilities of yours truly to just take one look at someone… and see right through them.” He waved his hand around. ”It’s a true talent, but doesn’t mean we should look down on those, who need a little more guidance, right?”

Kageyama nodded, even though he didn’t really look like he was listening to him.

“I’m… lucky to have you,” he said, turning to look at Teruki.

And right there, right at that moment, Teruki felt like his heart was melting. He swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t get a word out. What he managed to force out was a strangled little laugh as his hand shot to his neck, rubbing at it vigorously.

”I’m. Lucky to have you too!” he said. ”Meeting you was a real lucky shot, huh?”

”Hmm.” Kageyama smiled. His little, wonderful smile, that had Teruki’s insides squirming.

Yes. He was very lucky. Very lucky to be here. And to think that he had Akemi to blame for this.

He didn’t want to think about Akemi right now.

Slowly he realized how he’d waited the whole day for this moment, to get to walk home with Kageyama after his work. Through everything else, this had been the moment he’d been waiting for the most and thinking about that made him realize something very peculiar.

He really enjoyed Kageyama’s company. Not just in the ”let’s pretend to get along for a bet” sort of way, but he’d genuinely waited to get to have these little moments between them. They were going to get ice cream and then they’d go to Teruki’s place and watch movies. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less, and he’d waited the whole day for it.

Maybe… maybe there was a little something to this. This relationship of theirs.

Maybe it could be a little more.

Teruki walked closer to Kageyama, letting their hands brush against each other.

”Hey. Let’s get those ice creams. My treat.”

Chapter Text

The summer arrived and took Teruki completely by surprise. He had no idea how time had just gotten out of hand. But when the heatwave washed over Seasoning City, it was hard to deny the facts. The school had let out and suddenly Teruki found himself with a lot of free time.

No better way to spend that time than relaxing in the shade of his balcony with Kageyama and a cold drink. They were sitting down on lawn chairs Teruki had gotten just for this, boneless and listless in the heat. Teruki had his legs propped on the railing and he had a swirly straw in his lemonade. Kageyama had a handheld fan and a glassy look in his eyes.

It was a wonderful day. Couldn’t have been better. Teruki was in good company, at home and there was no place he would’ve rather been at.

His phone buzzed. He gave it a cursory glance. Apparently the gang was planning a trip to the most popular beach in Seasoning City. And by popular they mostly meant the closest. And with the heat, it was going to be crowded as hell.

Teruki wasn’t really excited about it. Going to the beach was fun if you were looking for new company, but otherwise there wasn’t really that much you could do. And the sand always got everywhere. But he couldn’t exactly not go. He still had his status to hold up and not going would’ve had people talking about it for weeks.

But he would’ve so much rather just spent the whole weekend here, relaxing with Kageyama and doing nothing special. It was too hot to do anything, too hot to move, too hot to think, too hot to even talk and Kageyama if anyone understood that.

Reiko sent a picture to the chat of the new bikini she was going to wear. Teruki rolled his eyes. Fishing for compliments. Really. There was an art to that and Reiko had never been an artist.

He took a sip of his lemonade.

He did have a nice pair of trunks that teetered on the edge of publicly acceptable on the fashion scale. Now that was going to be a hit. Not that his lousy friends would understand. Unlike Kageyama, they couldn’t be expected to recognize perfection.

Teruki looked at Kageyama.

That gave him an idea.

He could hit two birds with one stone, right? Kageyama was looking sweaty and tired from the heat. Cooling down in the ocean could do wonders for that.

“You know,” he started, waving his phone towards Kageyama. “I’m going to go to the beach with a bunch of friends this weekend.”

The words sunk in slow. Kageyama blinked once, then two more times before the look in his eyes grew sharper. He turned to look at Teruki without much of an expression.

“Yeah,” Teruki continued. “I’m not really feeling like going, but taking a dip in the ocean is going to be really nice right about now.”

“I guess.”

“You know what I was thinking?” Teruki said, shifting so he was facing him fully. “You should come with us. It’s going to be great. The weather reports say that it’s the perfect time for it.”

Kageyama stared off over the railing, eyes following the movements of a bird making rounds in the sky. He twisted his mouth and said nothing while he thought.

Teruki sighed and wiped some sweat off his forehead. “Everyone who’s anyone is going.” He grinned and leaned back. “You should come with us.”

Kageyama turned to him, waving the handheld fan to his face. The sweat was making his hair stick out funny against his forehead and Teruki would’ve just loved to reach his hand and run his fingers through the strands. To settle the hairs, of course.

“I don’t know,” he said. He pursed his lips and put the fan down. Teruki could see him starting to rub his hands. With the warmer weather, Kageyama had left his long-sleeved sweater inside. The scars on his hands and arms weren’t big enough to really catch anyone’s attention from a distance, but it was clear that they made him uncomfortable.

Teruki leaned his face against his hand. “You know,” he said, “I’ve got this shirt with long sleeves that’re really light. You could probably go swimming in that, I bet. It’s so light it’s like wearing nothing.”

Kageyama’s hands stilled and he smiled a little.

“Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t think… What you’ve said about your friends, I’m not sure if I, um. Want to go.” He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think they’d want me there either.”

“Nonsense!” Teruki said and waved his hand about. “Who cares what they think? You’d be going with me and I have enough clout for the both of us.”

Kageyama just shook his head. “I don’t think I want to go.”

Teruki sighed. No point in pushing the matter. If he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to go.

Too bad Teruki still had social responsibilities.

“Fine,” he said. “I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He turned on the chair so he wasn’t facing Kageyama anymore. “But you’ll walk me to the meeting place, right? So that if you change your mind, you can come with?”

Kageyama thought about it for a moment. “I guess,” he said. “I can do that.”

It was the small victories with Kageyama. Teruki found himself smiling without even meaning to. Yeah, he would’ve rather Kageyama go with him. But it was fine. They’d have time to spend the whole summer together afterwards. It wasn’t like they were lacking time.

After Kageyama left, Teruki just kind of sat on the floor, on the coolest spot he could find in his apartment. It was way too warm to do anything. He had his phone and he had the floor. That was going to be enough.

But staying still for too long and doing nothing was starting to make Teruki antsy again. Lucky for him, he wasn’t the only one. Koichi’s sent a message to the group chat a moment later.

Too hot to think, he wrote. Let’s get ice creams.

Now there was an idea. They set up a meeting with enough time for Teruki to freshen up and pick clean clothes. Because weather or weather, he was not going to be caught outside his home looking like it was affecting him. Everyone else might’ve been looking like they were melting from the direct sunlight, but he was going to be the poster boy of freshness.

The whole gang gathered at the Italian themed café, getting ice creams and cold drinks, exchanging even colder rumors.

“Oh, Ai from third year should not be caught dead in a skirt that short, no matter how hot it’s out!” Reiko complained, showing a picture on her phone.

“Absolutely, that’s awful,” Akemi agreed.

Listening to them berate some poor girl they barely knew should’ve been the norm. But for some reason it was putting Teruki on the edge. He tapped his fingers against the table.

Something was wrong.

The ice cream was excellent. Overpriced, but worth the money. His drink was crisp and colorful and had a flower-patterned cocktail umbrella in it. These were his people. His group of friends. They weren’t friendly, but they were his people.

So why was he feeling like he’d rather be anywhere but here right now?

Teruki tried to hide the rising feeling of unease under a mask of slight annoyance.

“Who pissed you off?” Koichi asked.

Teruki sneered and shot him a look.

“Just the heat,” he said. “It’s unbearable.”

That was believable, right? Everyone was talking about the weather. Being angry about it was reasonable.

“Oh, I know,” Koichi said, shaking his head. “It’s the worst. I think I’m sweating through my shirt.”

“Uh, yeah. Totally,” Reiko said, giving his back a critical look over. “You’ve got sweat stains on your armpits.”

Koichi looked embarrassed and tried to shift so that no one else could see them. It was a wasted effort.

“Well,” he hurried to say. “At least we’ll be going to the beach soon. Don’t have to wear a shirt then.”

“That’s right!” Akemi said. “God. It’s going to be so crowded. We better get a good spot or I swear I’m going to throw some family’s towels into the sea.”

They started to talk in earnest about the trip like it was going to be something so special. Teruki could hardly keep his eyes from rolling. It was just a beach. No one interesting was going to be there anyway.

Well. That still depended on Teruki.

“I want to bring Kageyama with me,” he said, cutting into Akemi and Koichi’s conversation mid-sentence.

The others fell silent.

“You’re still on about that?” Reiko asked, as if that was up to question. “Really? Can’t you just give up already?”

Well, clearly talking to her was pointless. He turned to the others.

“I don’t know,” Koichi said. “Isn’t he a little…?”

“No,” Mitsuru said, finally lifting his eyes from the phone he’d been tapping on for the entire conversation.

“Yeah,” Akemi said, stretching the word out. “Sorry, sweetie, I know you kind of have a thing going on and you’re too stubborn to give it up, but, like, the rest of us don’t really want to be seen in the same group as him, you know?”

Teruki couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Come on, guys,” he said. “You can’t be serious. If I say he’s coming, he’s coming.”

“No,” Mitsuru said again. “I won’t have it.”

“Yeah, I’m with Mitsuru on this one,” Akemi said. “Don’t bring him.”

“We get that you kind of have… an unfinished project,” Koichi said. “But… like, really.”

Teruki twisted his mouth.

“You know,” he said. “You’ve never actually met him. If you did, maybe you’d – “

“I’ve heard enough,” Reiko said. “He’s creepy. I don’t want him to come there. If he’s coming, I won’t go.”

“Yeah, no offense, but he’s kind of the last person I want to be seen around with,” Akemi said.

Teruki bit his teeth together.

They just didn’t get it.

They hadn’t met Kageyama properly. They didn’t understand that there was so much more to him than what they could see on the outside. If they met him, they’d be sure to change their minds. Teruki had and he considered himself to be the best judge of character.

“Fine,” he said, when he was, in fact, anything but fine. “Just so you know, he’ll be walking me to the meeting spot tomorrow, so like it or not, you’ll be meeting him.”

“What? Seriously?” Akemi said.

“Yeah, no. Not interested,” Reiko agreed.

“You guys aren’t giving him enough credit,” Teruki bit out.

“Oh, what?” Akemi said. “Are you mad that we’re making fun of your boyfriend?”

It shouldn’t have been funny. Teruki sure as hell wasn’t laughing, but everyone else seemed to be in stitches about it. A heavy weight landed in his gut and his mouth filled with the taste of acid.

None of the others seemed to notice and soon enough they were talking about something else entirely.

Teruki couldn’t hear a word of it.

Teruki met up with Kageyama on the day of the beach trip. He just wanted to spend time with him before being subjected to a swim with the sharks again. They walked around the city before it got too hot to do anything. Kageyama had a few favorite spots to go pet cats and Teruki may or may not have bought cat treats to gain some points in his eyes. He still didn’t like cats and he didn’t think he was ever going to be anything but indifferent towards them, but he liked how soft Kageyama got when he managed to coax a shy little street kitten to approach them and accept some pets.

Closer to noon, they had to return back to Teruki’s apartment to get his stuff.

“You sure you don’t want to hop back to your place and get your swimwear?” Teruki asked, hopeful.

He’d been asking similar questions through the whole day. Every now and then he felt like Kageyama was close to agreeing to come, but every time he was proven wrong. Which he shouldn’t be surprised about. It was going to be crowded and loud and Kageyama hated crowded and loud. It’d be better for everyone involved if he stayed home.

That didn’t mean Teruki had to like it.

He got his beach bag, already packed with a towel, swim trunks, sunscreen and a pair of his tamer sunglasses.

“Walk me to the meeting spot?”

They’d already talked about it, but Kageyama didn’t mention it. He just nodded.

He still had cat hair on him.

Teruki couldn’t remember when he’d gone from finding it annoying to finding it endearing. He reached to brush it off, nonchalant, and Kageyama didn’t seem to mind.

Really, it was a nice day to be out. The sky was blue and cloudless, the sun was shining bright and if it hadn’t been so damn warm, it would’ve been the prefect day for a date. Not that Teruki was seeing anyone right now. But, like. In theory. If he was, for example, going out with, say Kageyama, it would’ve been nearly the perfect day for it.

They walked close enough for their hands to brush every now and then and Kageyama didn’t seem to mind that either.

Teruki hadn’t tried reaching for his hand since the first few unsuccessful times. He’d been given the boundaries and he hadn’t dared to cross them after a while.

But now he was kind of wondering if the reaction would be different this time. If he just casually took Kageyama’s hand and held it. They wouldn’t have to say anything, it would just be a thing.

Teruki glanced at his hand.

He swallowed and looked away.

Maybe not. The last thing he wanted right now was for Kageyama to flinch away from him. He wasn’t sure if he could take it.

The meeting spot was near their café. Koichi’s driver was going to take all of them there together.

They weren’t the first two to arrive. Akemi, Reiko and Mitsuru were already there and watching Teruki approach with Kageyama like a trio of hawks.

Well, no. Only Akemi and Reiko were watching. Mitsuru was on his phone.

Teruki put on his charm full blast, smiling wide at his friends while they took in Kageyama’s appearance. He had a shirt on with sleeves all the way down to his wrists and in the summer heat, he looked like he was boiling inside.

“Hi, guys!” he said, waving at them. “We’re not late, are we?”

“Not at all,” Akemi said, her tone revealing nothing yet. “Koichi just texted us and said he’s going to be here in five minutes. Who’s your friend?”

Like she didn’t know. Teruki’s smile was sharp and full of teeth.

“Everyone, this is my good friend, Kageyama. Kageyama, these are Akemi, Reiko and Mitsuru.”

“Hello,” Kageyama said, his voice toneless.

“Oh, so this is Kageyama, huh?” Akemi said, smiling like a shark.

Kageyama was shrinking back already and Teruki had to fight the urge to step between them and keep him out of Akemi’s sight. But that would’ve been too revealing. He couldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” she said, mockingly sweet, like a poison before taking effect. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.”

Cold sweat started to form on Teruki’s neck despite the overbearing heat. He could see joy dancing in Akemi’s eyes and that never promised anything good.

“Oh, hey. Look at that. What happened to your hands, Kageyama? That looks nasty.”

She was going to go there. She was the exact type to go there. Kageyama’s eyes glazed over and he started shrinking back and Akemi was smiling like she’d just won a trophy.

“Oh yeah,” Reiko said. “That looks so bad. What did you do?”

“Okay!” Teruki cut in. “That’s enough of that, guys.”

He could just about strangle all of them, the bunch of vultures that they were. Kageyama had gone mute and was staring at his feet and Teruki was furious. He put his hands on Kageyama’s shoulders and turned him around, guiding him away from the others. He could feel their eyes on him, but right now he had more important matters at hand.

Kageyama didn’t look well.

“Look,” he muttered, lowering his head so he could speak quietly. The others didn’t have to hear a word he was saying. “I’m sorry about that. They’re kind of… assholes. I didn’t think they were going to be that rude.”

Kageyama opened his mouth, then closed it. He swallowed with some struggle.

“I don’t think… I like your friends very much,” he said after a while.

Teruki sighed and looked to the ground.

“Yeah, I know.” He looked back up. “So I guess you won’t be coming along?”

Kageyama shook his head.

Yeah. Maybe that was for the best. This seemed like it could only end in a disaster, so it’d be better this way.

“See you tomorrow?”

A nod.

He left for home and Teruki was feeling hollow. He could see Kageyama trying to act as if what the others had said hadn’t affected him. He was easy enough to read, though.

Teruki wanted to go with him.

He dug out his phone before Kageyama could disappear behind a corner.

I’ll make it up to you later, okay? he sent him.

Kageyama stopped and took a look over his shoulder. Teruki lifted a hand to a small wave.

His shoulders dropped a little and he waved back, before turning to his phone.

The ok was simple, but it made Teruki feel a little better.

The beach was dreadful and boring.

Not only was it crowded and noisy around this time of the summer, but the company there was just awful as well.

Teruki lounged back on his beach chair under their blue and white striped parasol and thought he should’ve feigned illness. Say he’d had a heatstroke or something.

Anything other than being here.

”Ugh, look at the fatso over there,” Reiko said just loud enough for the lady walking past them to hear and look away with a hurt expression. ”Some people just shouldn’t wear a bikini. Seriously.”

She and Akemi were lounging on their towels, sunbathing, while Mitsuru was reading next to Teruki. When Teruki turned to look at the cover of the book, it was something about economics.

”Come on, Teru!” Koichi said. ”Stop sulking in the shade, let’s go and see the girls in the water.”

”No thanks,” Teruki said, leaning back.

”Yeah, Teru can’t come. He’s too loyal to his boyfriend,” Akemi jeered and burst out giggling with Reiko.

Yeah, well. The joke was on them. Teruki would’ve so much rather been here with Kageyama than these people. Although, maybe it was a little too crowded for him. Teruki would’ve made sure that he was having a good time, though. Maybe he should ask him to come with him some other time. Without the extras. The sea looked nice and warm enough to swim in and it would be just the thing to cool down in the weather.

That was a pretty good idea. He’d ask Kageyama the next time he’d see him. He dug out his phone and took a few pictures of the sea, sending them to him with the message: Wishing you were here~

Wouldn’t that be nice? Under the unforgiving sun, it’d be important to keep sunscreen on. Maybe Kageyama would need his help spreading it on his back. Maybe Teruki could ask for help as well.

Hmm.

Yeah. That seemed like a perfect idea, actually.

Coming here with Kageyama would’ve been so much better. But instead he’s stuck with these people. Truly luck had not been on his side on this day.

”Come on! He won’t find out!” Koichi whined. ”He’s not here! Let’s go!”

To be fair, going with Koichi would be better than sitting here and listening to Reiko and Akemi spit venom at anyone close enough to hear them. Teruki grumbled some halfhearted excuses and stood up.

”I can be your wingman,” he said. ”But that’s it.”

”Okay, okay, fine,” Koichi said, waving his hand dismissively. ”Better than laying around here. Come on, let’s go!”

They started making their way towards the shoreline, but Koichi decided to make a little detour to the vendor selling cold drinks.

”So,” he said. ”How’s it going with the whole bet thing?”

Teruki was immediately on the edge. The question sounded innocent enough, but nothing ever really was with these people. Teruki couldn’t tell if he was asking for conversation’s sake or if he was looking for something to tell the others behind his back.

”It’s. Fine,” he said. ”I’m not looking to give up, if that’s what you’re asking about.”

”I wasn’t really,” Koichi said and opened the can of soda he’d just gotten. He drank deep and sighed. ”I just thought that it was weird that you were still at it at this point.”

”Of course I am!” Teruki barked.

”Yeah, but enough to, like, try to invite that guy with us to the beach. I mean, you got to admit that’s a little weird.”

”It would’ve been fine if they hadn’t been such asses in front of him!”

”You’re really serious about this?” Koichi asked.

Teruki opened his mouth, then hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much he could tell him. Out of all the others, Koichi was the easiest to talk to, but… he was still part of their whole group.

But he found himself wanting to tell somebody. To talk about it with someone else, pour out his confusing feelings.

”Yes,” he said, with no small amount of uncertainty. ”Yes, I think somehow this thing… got a little out of hand. I’m very serious about this.”

Koichi sized him up for a moment, before grinning wide.

”Man, you never half-ass anything, huh?” he said. ”I guess that’s why you’re so cool. Even this whole bet thing, you just go at it with everything you got.”

Teruki fumbled with his drink.

”It’s… it’s not just the bet,” he said carefully. ”It’s. Kageyama. He’s… he’s not really like anyone I’ve ever known before.”

”Yeah, I bet,” Koichi said before he could say anything more. ”Real bottom of the barrel, huh?”

Teruki’s mouth snapped shut. He stopped walking and Koichi turned to look at him.

Teruki opened his mouth again to defend Kageyama, to defend himself, but then he just. Didn’t.

Why would he even bother? Koichi wasn’t listening. He didn’t want to listen. So why even try? Teruki had… changed. Koichi wouldn’t understand even if he tried to tell him.

He gritted his teeth together.

Who would’ve thought? Hanazawa Teruki, the cream of the crop, would’ve rather spent this very visible afternoon with a complete nobody instead of the other social royalty he was stuck here with.

The realization was enlightening.

He would have much rather been with Kageyama.

He preferred Kageyama over his supposed friends.

The thought should’ve been sad. It really should have. Now he realized he’d preferred Kageyama’s company for a while now. He liked spending time with him. He was quiet and thoughtful. He was kind. And these people, despite being rich, popular and on the road to becoming famous in the future? They were all miserable excuses for human beings.

Really. What a riot wrapped into a tragedy.

But instead of feeling horrified, Teruki just kind of felt… okay.

It wasn’t sad. But it wasn’t funny either.

It was just how things were.

He liked Kageyama.

He didn’t like his friends.

And that was that.

Teruki wasn’t sure what to do with the information just yet. He’d have to think about it some more. Once he got out of here and away from these people. Once he’d be back in Kageyama’s company. Things were less complicated there.

Koichi had seemingly forgotten all about the conversation and was now looking around the area. When he spotted what he wanted, he tilted his head towards a group of girls near the water. They were playing volleyball together, quite competitive too, one might add. Teruki couldn’t have cared less. He shrugged and let Koichi lead them into a conversation with them. With little effort they got invited to the game and Koichi, despite himself, managed to catch the eye of a few of them at least. Now as long as he wouldn’t screw it up, he’d be fine.

Through the whole thing, though, Teruki was counting minutes. How long would he have to stay for it to be socially acceptable to leave? How long until he could excuse himself? Beaches were all fun and good in small increments. But sunscreen coupled with sand did not an attractive combination make.

He wondered if Kageyama would like volleyball. He was always looking for ways to get stronger. Hmm. He wondered if he had a secret six pack under there, hiding from the world, waiting for someone with the initiative and drive to find out. But then again, Kageyama still didn’t seem too keen on showing the scars running up his arms, not even now.

Well. Teruki didn’t really mind that. Being one of the rare few he was comfortable with showing them did make him feel special, he had to admit.

”Hey, Teru!”

Teruki turned to look at Koichi, side to side with two girls he’d just bought drinks for.

”The girls here were asking if we’d want to go with them after this? One of their family has a beach house near here.”

”Oh?” Teruki said, trying to fake interest, even though he couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t think he did too well. ”I’d love to, but I actually have plans for the evening.”

”What? Really?” one of the girls said.

”Come on, Teru,” Koichi whined. ”Can’t be that important, if you didn’t tell us about it beforehand! And Michi here would be so disappointed!” He waved at one of the girls.

The girl looked nice enough. She smiled a little shyly and waved her hand. ”Hey,” she said.

She was someone Teruki would’ve absolutely dated before. Above average in the looks. A bit demure and dull to his previous tastes, but enough of a looker to have as temporary company.

”Um. Hi,” Teruki said and turned to Koichi. ”I told you, I wasn’t looking for a date.”

”Come on,” Koichi said and winked. ”It’s all in good fun, yeah?”

”Koichi,” Teruki said, seriously. ”I’m not going.”

Koichi stared at him like he was out of his mind and Teruki was really starting to be done with this.

”I’m going to go take a dip in the ocean. Anyone coming?” he asked, hiding his annoyance under faked excitement that got most of the girls joining in on the fun. Koichi still looked weirded out.

Never mind him. He could think whatever he wanted.

The sea was wonderfully cool compared to the burning warmth of the sun and despite thinking better of it, Teruki dunked his head under the waves. When he pulled his head up and threw it back, shooting a splash of water all around, it started a minor war with the girls and Koichi. They tried to get him in on it and Teruki did give a few splashes, but all in all, it was kind of underwhelming.

Through the waves, he saw something peeking out from the sand. He reached to grab it.

The rock was small. When he picked it up, it sat snuggly at the center of his palm. Nearly perfectly sanded by the waves, it was smooth, with veins of dark red lines going through it.

The color kind of reminded him go Kageyama.

He squeezed his fingers around it.

He was pretty sure Kageyama would like it. He liked weird things. Well. It wasn’t really weird, it was kind of neat actually. He was all about good textures, right? And this was a pretty good texture. Right?

He wondered what Kageyama would think if he took it to him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Oh, he could imagine it. Kageyama looking at it, with his eyes bright. Running his fingers over it. Thanking him.

”I’m going to head back to the others,” he told Koichi.

”Fine! Buzzkill!” Koichi yelled after him.

Teruki took the rock with him to the others.

”Whatcha got there?” Reiko asked, curious.

When Teruki showed her the rock, she scrunched her nose.

”Ew, it’s dirty! Throw it away!” she said.

”Dirty?” Teruki said. ”It’s a rock!”

”What? He picked up a rock?” Akemi asked, a little drowsy. ”Seriously?”

Teruki bristled. ”Yes,” he said. ”I’m taking it to Kageyama.”

They burst out laughing.

”A gift that has no value,” Mitsuru said without lifting his head from the book. ”I doubt he’ll appreciate it.”

”Well, you don’t know shit!” Teruki argued, but he couldn’t hide the insistent burn from his face. He shoved the rock with the rest of his stuff.

They stayed for another grueling hour before the group finally deemed the beach boring and done. Koichi came to get his stuff, letting them know that he’d be going with the girls. This drew Akemi and Reiko’s interest and they got Mitsuru to come with them too.

Teruki just packed his things quietly, went to change his clothes and left in silence.

He. He hated these people.

God. It felt so weird to acknowledge it. He really didn’t like these people. But he couldn’t stop spending time with them either. Because who else was he going to hang out with?

He had the rock in his pocket. It felt heavy. When he drew it out, it had dried to look like a stupid, grey piece of lump. Ugly. Pointless.

Maybe they were right. It had cost him nothing. Who would even want something like that as a gift? Kageyama was going to take it, smile and think in his head that it was the dumbest thing he’d ever seen.

Teruki should just throw the damn thing away like they’d told him to.

It was probably dirty.

His phone buzzed once and he almost left it unchecked. But old habits died hard and he pulled the phone out to see who it had been.

Kageyama.

I hope you had a good time

Warmth gripped at his chest, squeezing tight. His hands trembled a little, fingers hovering over the keys. He should just lie. Not worry him.

Not really, he said instead. I don’t think I really like my friends

For a moment there was no response.

Then his phone started buzzing.

Teruki just stared at Kageyama’s name blinking on his phone screen. For a moment he didn’t know what to do. A moment too long, he just stared at it, then hurried to lift it to his ear.

”Kageyama?” he said and his voice broke a little. How embarrassing!

”Hey.” His voice was awkward. Quiet. He didn’t like to speak over the phone. ”Um. Would you. I’m out with Ritsu. Would you like to come sit with us?”

Teruki was so tired he thought he was going to collapse. But hearing the invite felt like energy pouring into his veins.

”Yeah,” he croaked. ”I’d really like that.”

Teruki gave the rock to Kageyama despite his concerns. He saw how Kageyama’s eyes lit up at the sight of it and watched him run his thumbs over it again and again before finally, subtly lifting it to run it against his lips and it felt like Teruki’s insides had turned into mush, melting at the sight of it.

Of course he liked it. Of course he did. Teruki had known he would and he should’ve never doubted it.

There was something else he realized in that moment as well.

He wanted to pluck that stupid rock out of Kageyama’s hands and kiss him silly.

The thought was perhaps a little alarming. But not that surprising.

Chapter Text

Now that it was summer break, they were meeting up almost daily. Not that Teruki was complaining. If they didn’t go out to eat or walk, they holed up at either Teruki’s place, or at the Kageyama residence with Little Brother to watch TV, play games or just hang out.

Teruki’s week didn’t feel complete if he didn’t get to see Kageyama at least a couple of times.

He knew something was different. They were growing closer. But Teruki didn’t dare to think about the implications.

It was fine.

They were fine.

At the same time, while he was meeting with Kageyama as often as he could, he was coming up with more and more intricate excuses to not talk with Akemi, Reiko, Koichi and Mitsuru. They were doing fine on their own, it seemed. They didn’t need Teruki to brighten their dull existences. He did meet up with Makoto the Foreign Book Club guy and a handful of his other previous projects, though. Turned out some of them were kind of awful too, now that he was paying attention. But a bunch of them were actually kind of nice.

Who would’ve thought? They had value even outside their statuses. Teruki was learning all sorts of new things this summer.

He had a problem, though. The thing was, even though he said he was fine, he was anything but.

Because even though Teruki was spending most of his free time with Kageyama, he was starting to find that maybe it didn’t feel like it was… enough.

Yeah, he loved spending time with Kageyama. He had a great time with him every time they met, that wasn’t the problem. Even his brother wasn’t that bad, now that he’d warmed up a bit. Ritsu might’ve still been prickly and quick to throw sharp words around, but he’d mellowed out considerably since the first time Teruki had come over. Their parents were nice too, even though Teruki had barely even met them more than a couple of times on his way out.

He really did enjoy Kageyama’s company.

It was just that, more and more these days, he kind of sort of found himself hoping he could just… kind of… reach over and take his hand. Lean a head on his shoulder. Something. Just. Get a little closer.

Who was he kidding? He thought about taking Kageyama’s face into his hands and making out with him on his parents’ couch.

But he would’ve been happy to just start things small.

What he worried about was Kageyama’s reaction to that.

Even now, he was still so shy to touch. Not as much as before. Not at all. But it was there. And the last thing Teruki wanted was to scare him off with a thoughtless action.

After all of this, he didn’t think he could take rejection.

Not from Kageyama.

So it was easier to pine.

God. Teruki had never thought himself to be so pitiful as to yearn. But he didn’t know what else to call the feeling. It felt poetic. Tragic. Larger than life.

On a Friday night, after work, they were lounging at Teruki’s place. Kageyama was planning to stay the night again. They’d had a few overnight stays at each other’s places before. Nothing special, like Teruki liked to tell himself. Just a couple of bros being dudes. Trying on his clothes and watching romantic comedies. Hah! Far be it from him to judge! He was enjoying himself.

But this was a special Friday.

Teruki had decided.

He was going to try to be bold.

They were watching a movie. An action flick this time. One of the newer ones. Teruki didn’t care. He wasn’t really paying attention as much as he should’ve.

They’d made a little nest out of the pillows and blankets on his bed, in front of the TV. They were sitting so close to each other, that Teruki could feel Kageyama’s warmth on his shoulder when he leaned back against the fort of pillows.

Kageyama’s eyes were glued to the TV screen and he was munching on some candy without a care in the world.

Teruki should’ve probably been paying attention too. If Kageyama asked him something about the movie now, he’d have no idea what to say.

They were sitting so close. Teruki licked his lips. He didn’t want to ruin it. He’d thought up a bunch of plans on how he was going to take their relationship to the next level, but he’d discarded every single one of them so far.

But if he wasn’t going to make the effort, no one was.

He licked his lips again, eyes on the screen, mind somewhere else completely.

Kageyama had a pillow on his lap, and a bag of candies on the pillow.

It would’ve been so easy to reach out and. You know. Hold hands. Or something.

He swallowed with some struggle.

It was time to be bold.

Teruki scooted a little closer, closing the small gap between them. He pressed his knee against Kageyama’s thigh. It was a soft touch, careful, barely there. His leg was trembling just a little bit.

Kageyama turned to look at the leg touching his. He stared at it for a moment, before turning back to the TV.

Okay. He was ready to take that as a signal that this was allowed. Teruki swallowed again and moved a little closer still. He felt like a complete fool reaching his hand and placing it on his knee, close enough that a small nudge would have him touching Kageyama’s thigh.

”Do you want the candy?” Kageyama asked, offering the bag.

No, it wasn’t the candy he wanted.

His hand was so close.

Okay. Okay. Teruki had done this hundreds of times before. With multiple different girls. Most of those times had ended well. Some of them hadn’t. Not every relationship was meant to work out and sometimes you just had to accept that.

But. If this didn’t work out, Teruki wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

His throat felt as dry as a desert.

“Hanazawa?”

”Would,” he started, then felt his voice falter. He wanted so desperately to pull out a mask. Any mask would’ve been okay. A flirty one, maybe. His usual flirty tones and suave smiles had had his partners giggling in delight. But he was sure that the moment he’d put on a tone like that, he would’ve lost Kageyama.

But working like this, the words weren’t coming out like they usually did. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, where he was supposed to put his hand so that it would end with the two of them together. Nothing was taking form like he wanted it to.

Kageyama turned to him more fully, some worry in his eyes.

”Are you okay?” he asked. ”Do you… not like the movie?”

”Huh? Oh, no, no. I like the movie just fine. I’ve just. Seen it already.”

”Do you want to change it?”

Teruki shook his head.

”No, it’s fine,” he said. ”I was just. Thinking. About things. It’s fine.”

Kageyama looked at him for a moment longer. Then he turned back to the TV.

Teruki licked his lips.

He’d decided to be bold, hadn’t he?

”You know what?” he said. ”Actually. I… uh. I was thinking if you would be okay with me sitting a little closer?”

Kageyama stared at the TV without any visible reaction.

”Like. I mean, I know we’re close right now, but like. Heh. Would it be fine with you if maybe…? If I like, leaned my head on your shoulder? Or something. Actually, no, never mind that, that’s stupid.”

God. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. He was going to ruin this whole thing and he was going to end up alone, with his miserable, miserable friends.

Kageyama nudged their legs together.

”I’m fine with it,” he said.

Teruki felt like he was choking on his own breath. ”Really?” he squeaked.

Kageyama nodded.

Teruki was never one to waste an opportunity when one presented itself. He snaked his hand behind Kageyama’s back, the other around his front until it almost looked like they were cuddling.

Hell. They were cuddling.

Even though Kageyama was sitting very stiffly now. He’d stopped moving altogether, and Teruki hadn’t even leaned his head on his shoulder yet.

This wasn’t as nice as he’d hoped it was going to be. There were no butterflies in his stomach. This didn’t feel like they were one step away from kissing.

This was just uncomfortable.

”You know,” Teruki said slowly. ”If this isn’t okay with you, you should tell me. I don’t mind.”

When Kageyama hummed, he could feel it through his body.

”I…” he started. ”I’m not… sure. It’s. I feel like I want to like this.”

Teruki started pulling back. Kageyama placed his hand on his arm, halting him.

”Give me a moment,” he said.

Now they were both pretty uncomfortable in this embrace and Teruki regretted asking for it. Neither of them was watching the movie at this point.

Kageyama was rubbing his fingers against each other with nervous energy.

That gave Teruki an idea.

”Hold on,” he said. ”I’m going to get up for a moment.”

Kageyama hummed again and let him go. Teruki walked to his wardrobe and pulled it open. He gave it a quick look and glanced over his shoulder. Kageyama was still looking. He gave Kageyama a grin and pulled out his favorite sweater. The fluffy, teal one, that felt like wearing a cloud. He pulled it on before turning back to Kageyama.

Teruki plopped down next to him, holding onto the smile with a steely grip.

”Would it make you more comfortable to snuggle against,” he spread his arms, ”this?”

The smile spreading on Kageyama’s face might’ve been small, but it burst through Teruki’s guards like a solar flare, burning him to the core. Kageyama leaned against him slowly, carefully, and ran his hand over the fluffy sweater. Technically that also meant that he was running his hands over Teruki, but who cared, right? Kageyama closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Teruki’s shoulder.

”This sweater is my favorite,” he said.

”Yeah,” Teruki said, chocked up. ”Mine too.”

There we go. Teruki still got it. His game was a little rusty, but he still got it.

After that, it was a little easier. You gave Teruki a finger, he took the whole hand, arm and the person attached to it.

From then on, all of their movies were watched like this. Cuddled closely, leaning against each other. When it got too warm, Teruki was quick to discard a blanket rather than putting distance between them. The first time they did that at Kageyama’s home, Little Brother had looked at them kind of funny, but Teruki could see the guarded approval there. He appreciated it.

It should’ve been easy to go from there. Hold his hand. Turn his head. Just. The first kiss didn’t need to be perfect. But. The time had to be right.

But Teruki did want to hold his hand. If Kageyama would allow it.

It felt like such a big leap forward. Kageyama was shy about his hands. He was still wary about his scars and Teruki didn’t want to cause hurt by acting thoughtlessly.

But. Holding hands, though!

He just had to give it a try. Nothing ever got done by just sitting around and twiddling thumbs.

Another movie night, another bold move from Hanazawa Teruki. They were sitting cuddled together. Kageyama was holding his hands in his lap, easily within reach.

Teruki wasn’t going to fumble this one. He wasn’t even going to say anything. He reached out and put his hand on Kageyama’s. Nothing more than that. It wasn’t even that large of a reach.

He held it loosely and waited. There was enough space there for Kageyama to pull away if he wanted to. Teruki had made sure of that. He didn’t touch his scars, didn’t even acknowledge the whole thing. Just. Held it there and waited to see what would happen.

For a long while nothing did. Kageyama gave no outwards reaction to show that anything was out of place. It took about ten minutes into the movie for Kageyama to move his hand at all. When he turned it under Teruki’s, Teruki was sure he was about to pull it free. Instead he just reached to touch Teruki’s fingers.

Teruki’s focus was completely shot. The TV turned into a colorful blur and his head was somewhere in the clouds.

Kageyama was playing with his fingers. Bending them, twisting them lightly and running his own under Teruki’s palm. Teruki could do little more than watch with fascination.

Very carefully Teruki ran his thumb over one of the more prominent scars on the back of Kageyama’s hand. There were three lines running side by side there, slight bumps on his skin. When Kageyama didn’t seem to mind, he ran the finger across his knuckles.

This was it, then. This was how the famous ladies’ man, Hanazawa Teruki was tamed, he decided. Like with those damned alley cats of his, Kageyama had taken his time and now Teruki was his to do whatever he pleased with. Teruki wasn’t sure if Kageyama knew how great of a hold he’d have on Teruki if he decided to use it. Because Teruki would surely bark like a dog if it meant he’d have a few more minutes of this. Just resting on the same couch, with Kageyama leaning his head on his shoulder and playing with his fingers.

Even in the summer, Kageyama’s sports club met once a week to practice at their school grounds. Teruki lifted his hand to a lazy wave when he spotted Kageyama approaching from behind the building. His hair was damp from the shower and he walked with the same, bow-legged gait he always used after a strenuous workout. He looked about ready to collapse and Teruki just couldn’t stop smiling, because even through his exhaustion, Kageyama looked so happy to see him. And Kageyama’s smile was a sight more beautiful than anything in the world to him.

It wasn’t a big smile. They never were. But it was a genuine one. And knowing how much work it had taken to get to this point made it even sweeter.

“Did you have a good exercise?” Teruki asked once he was within earshot.

Kageyama walked up to him, swayed a little on his feet, then nodded. Exhausted he might’ve been, but he looked so content.

Teruki imagined what it might’ve been like to kiss him right now. To lean down and plant a small one on the corner of his lips then and there. Like it was the most normal thing ever. He thought about what it might’ve been like to take his hand and hold it while they made their way home.

His smile grew a little smaller.

“Let’s get going then, why don’t we?” he said and pointed a thumb behind his back.

They walked slower on the days Kageyama had his club. It wasn’t like they were in a rush.

“Am I just imagining things, or are you even more exhausted than usual?” Teruki asked.

Kageyama hummed and nodded.

“I… broke a record today,” he said quietly. “I ran the entire way without collapsing.”

That was huge. Teruki was grinning from ear to ear.

“Congratulations!” he said. “I knew you could do it. Man, that’s amazing.”

Kageyama’s smile turned soft.

“Thank you, Hanazawa,” he said.

“I can’t believe you’re still sticking to the training,” he said. “Even when it’s summer! If I’m being really honest with you, I thought you were going to quit within a week for sure when I first heard you talk about it.”

Kageyama hummed and shot him a quick look.

“But then again,” Teruki continued, waving his hand around, “I was wrong about so many things when I first met you. So if we were making a list, it would turn out embarrassingly long. So, let’s not.” He looked back at Kageyama and met his eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Bullseye. A dusting of pink spread over his cheeks and Kageyama looked down. Teruki’s heart was doing somersaults in his chest and he felt like he was going to burst.

“Thank you,” Kageyama said again, a little more muffled.

“Of course!”

They continued in silence for a moment longer. It was a nice day out, partly cloudy, but nice. The summer was still going strong, even though school would start again soon.

This was not a summer Teruki wanted to see over just yet.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t think I ever asked why it was that you’re so set on getting fit. I mean, it’s a good goal. But I got to wonder, though. Why?”

They were getting closer to his apartment now. It was more of a fact than anything that they were going to make tea and hang out. That was what they did after Kageyama’s workout routine.

Kageyama was quiet for a while. Teruki glanced at him, but didn’t pressure him to talk. They climbed up the stairs and once inside, Kageyama collapsed on his bed, exhausted and drained. Teruki chuckled to himself and went to put the kettle on.

By the time he was sitting next to Kageyama again and offering him a cup, he’d already forgotten that he’d asked anything.

Kageyama clearly hadn’t.

“It was,” he started slowly, then seemed to think his words over. “I had some trouble. In middle school. And I felt like… I had no control over my life.”

It took Teruki a moment to realize that this was his response to the question from before. He nodded to urge him to keep talking.

“I wanted to become strong,” Kageyama said. “I wanted to be strong enough so that… people wouldn’t push me around. Anymore.”

“So you decided to start lifting weights?” Teruki asked, forming it into a joke. “Wow, Kageyama. I didn’t take you for someone, who’d want to punch their problems away.”

“It’s not that,” Kageyama said, frowning a little.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kageyama shook his head. He leaned his back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. ”Reigen says it’s important to be clear when you tell people you don’t want them around,” he said. “And only push them back physically when it’s clear they aren’t listening to your words. But you… You should say it very sternly, when you don’t want them near you.”

”Hmm?” Teruki said. ”What? Just say ’Stay away from me’?” His tone was mocking. He didn’t mean it to be, but it came out that way anyway. Things weren’t as simple as Kageyama wanted them to be. It wasn’t enough that you had muscles. Someone else was always going to have more clout and that was the sad fact of life. He didn’t make the rules. He’d just seen them in action more.

But Kageyama took his words seriously. He nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “I think… more like…” He thought about it for a moment, a look of careful concentration on his face. Then he spoke up, very seriously: “Stay away from me.”

Teruki chuckled and dropped his head against Kageyama’s shoulder. “If only it were that easy,” he said, playing around with the strings of his hoodie. “You say that and they’ll just laugh at you. You need to push them back from the start, if you want them to take you seriously. Let them know that you mean business. If you’re working on those muscles, then you might as well put them to good use.”

Kageyama hummed.

“I don’t think I’d like that very much,” he said. “Musashi said muscles aren’t for fighting.”

Teruki shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. “No one’s going to mess with you as long as you’ve got me. They wouldn’t dare. They know that going against me is social suicide.”

Kageyama tilted his head, looking at Teruki.

“But I don’t think anyone knows I’ve got you,” he said.

Teruki opened his mouth, then closed it.

He supposed that was true.

He pursed his lips.

He wondered what it would be like. If everyone knew. Not that there was anything to know. But. Like. If there was. If they were dating. What would the others think?

The thought of his friends finding out made him shudder. They’d be laughing about it for a good while. Anyone dating a loser was automatically a loser themselves. That was just how the social hierarchy worked.

But then again, did their opinions really matter?

Would it change anything to let them know?

Yes. Yes it would. His reputation would be ruined. He could no longer sit with them. There’d be talks behind his back. He’d no longer be included in the decision making at the top. He’d be removed from the group chat and left to rot.

Teruki breathed in a long sigh.

Maybe… it wouldn’t be that bad. After all, there was no one else here. When they were here, in his home, when they were at Kageyamas’ or when they were walking together outside, there was no one there to judge them. Yes, they might get some looks if they started walking hand in hand outside. But even without his clout, Teruki would have enough charisma for the both of them. He was just that good.

They could make it work.

That was, if there was anything to make work.

“I think Musahsi is right,” Kageyama continued. “I don’t. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I never did. But. Reigen said it makes sense. That I would want to get fit. Because. It’s control over my body. And it gives me confidence. And friends. I want…” He fell silent and drew breath. “I want to have confidence.”

Confidence, huh? Teruki could see that.

“You’re a very strong person, Hanazawa,” Kageyama said. He faltered a little, then backtracked. “Not like, with muscles. But. You have…” His face scrunched as he clearly thought back on something. “A strength in character. You. Know what you want. And you get it.”

Teruki could remember saying something along those lines when they’d first been getting to know each other.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, you got to have some steely strength of your own. With the way you handled my bullshit in the beginning. Now that’s strength in character, if you ask me.”

Kageyama smiled softly.

“You were pretty bad.”

Teruki thought about the things he wanted in life. About getting them.

He turned his head a little and looked at Kageyama from the corner of his eye.

He knew what he wanted.

He just didn’t know if he could get it the way he wanted.

He’d almost driven Kageyama away before. He’d given it his best at the time and it had almost sent Kageyama packing. He wanted to give it a try, but he couldn’t.

Because he was far happier here than he would be, if Kageyama decided to leave him. Whatever this unnamed thing between them was, he’d be able to live with it. They didn’t have to go further.

Right?

“Yeah. You’re definitely the stronger of us,” he said.

Besides. There was no rush. Neither of them was going anywhere. They could go at Kageyama’s pace now. Teruki was just here for the ride, wherever it would take him.

Next to him, Kageyama shifted. Teruki lifted his head from his shoulder and watched him sit up and reach to place the mug on Teruki’s table.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Kageyama started. He licked his lips and looked around Teruki’s apartment before turning back to him again. “I was wondering… if I could ask you something.”

Teruki perked up immediately. He sat up straight and tried to make it look casual.

“Yeah, I mean,” he said. “Anything. For you.”

Kageyama hesitated for a long while, but there was nothing new about that. He sat back down next to Teruki and shoved his hands under his legs.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” he started out, looking at Teruki’s wall rather than at him. “But. Um. I didn’t want to ask, because. Because I was worried. Hm.”

Worried? What could he possibly have to worry about? Teruki licked his lips nervously and lifted his shoulders to a shrug.

“Well, like I said,” he said. “You can ask me anything. You know by now that I’ll let you know, if things go a way I don’t like. So. I promise. You won’t be able to hurt my feelings.”

That was debatable. Teruki was pretty sure there were plenty of ways Kageyama could hurt him with just a few, simple words. But he didn’t need to know that and definitely not right now.

Kageyama hesitated a moment longer, then reached for Teruki’s hand.

Teruki felt blood rushing to his cheeks immediately. Could it be? Had he read Kageyama completely wrong? Was he about to be the one, who was bold? Suddenly Teruki couldn’t find his voice.

Kageyama played with Teruki’s fingers, keeping his eyes on the hand between his.

“I know,” he said at length. “That you’re not going to just. Leave, suddenly. But still. And. Reigen always says, that it’s important to try to communicate, when something is bothering you. But these kinds of things make me feel.” He sought for the word, moving around his free hand aimlessly. “Anxious.”

Okay. Okay, Teruki might be reading way too much into this, but then again, he might’ve been reading just the right amount. He wetted his lips and shifted a little.

“Well,” he said. “I want you to feel as comfortable as you can, when you’re with me. Because. You know. I care very much about you.”

Was that too bold? Teruki didn’t know anymore. It felt like it was, but with Kageyama everything kind of felt like it. Kageyama just kept on pushing at his fingers, bending and straightening his pinky.

“I just thought it was weird, when you first came to talk to me,” he said. “And I know you said, that, um. Your friends thought I looked lonely. But your friends aren’t really that nice. So I kept thinking about it. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But I wanted to ask you all the same.”

He was really wordy today. It was kind of making Teruki worry. This didn’t sound like it was headed towards a love confession.

“I just wanted to ask,” he said, “why you wanted to be my friend.”

Teruki opened his mouth, then closed it.

“What?” he said.

Kageyama’s shoulders stiffened immediately. He pulled back, his head retreating between his shoulders.

“I – I mean,” he said, clutching onto Kageyama’s hand before he could pull it out of his hold. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“I,” Kageyama started, looking for the words. “Why are you my friend? I mean, why did you want to be my friend?”

Teruki wasn’t sure what to say. Well, the obvious thing was that it had been for a bet. He was sure Kageyama would understand it, if he explained how he’d grown and become a better person since then. But at the same time, he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to. It would be hurtful, he was sure. So it was easier to dig a little hole at the back of his mind, bury it there and leave it undiscovered. It was better that way.

“I mean,” Kageyama continued when Teruki failed to produce a word in a timely manner. “You’re not always honest with me. I know that. I don’t know why, but you’re not.” Teruki opened his mouth to refute that, but Kageyama was already talking, head held low and eyes narrow. “And it’s so hard for me to sometimes understand when you’re joking and when you’re not.” He held his breath for a moment and Teruki felt like he couldn’t breathe either. “It’s just. Sometimes I worry that it’s all just. A. A joke. To you.”

“A joke?” Teruki asked, feeling a little hurt by the mere idea. “No! Kageyama!” He sat up straighter. He turned his hands so that he was holding Kageyama’s in his. “No,” he said softer, tilting his head so that he could look Kageyama in the eye. “This is absolutely not a joke. Never was and never will be.”

Kageyama looked at him and Teruki could tell he wasn’t buying it. Okay. That. Hurt pretty bad. He had to look away.

His past actions were coming back to bite him, weren’t they? Since he hadn’t taken this seriously from the start, Kageyama had been able to see through. He’d seen Teruki at his ugliest.

He needed to explain this.

“I mean,” Teruki started, without a clear goal on how he was going to finish the sentence. “It was – Well, my friends started it out as a joke. That’s true. They thought it’d be funny. But you know, who cares what they think.”

Kageyama was looking at him from under his fringe, so Teruki continued.

“None of that matters anymore,” he said. “Because I knew it as soon as I saw you that you were the type of a person I wanted to spend more time with.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Teruki said. “You shouldn’t worry about things like that. It doesn’t matter what I was thinking about back then. What matters is what I think right now. And right now there’s no one else I’d rather spend my time with. You… you’re really important to me.”

The look in Kageyama’s eyes softened and he smiled a little.

“You’re a very kind person, Hanazawa,” he said.

“Of course I am! The kindest there is.”

Kageyama’s smile told him he didn’t believe a word he was saying. Teruki grinned wide.

“Well, let’s just say that it’s a work in progress.”

Kageyama nodded.

“I’m fine with that.” He hesitated a moment, then looked back at Teruki. “But what about your friends?”

“Friends?” Teruki said and leaned back, waving his hand around dismissively. “What friends? Those people are no longer a part of my life.” Well, that wasn’t really true. He was still going to have to interact with them, but it would strictly be for the sake of upkeeping his status. But Kageyama didn’t need to know about that. It was all so complicated. He was better off not knowing. “It’s taken me a while to realize it, but they’re kind of hurtful and awful people. And someone like me shouldn’t waste my time with that negative energy.”

Kageyama looked worried.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” he asked.

“Who, me? Of course!” Why wouldn’t he be?

“But they’re your friends.”

“I can make a ton of friends whenever I want!” he said. And it was true, too. “I’m the best at people. You worry too much, Kageyama. Those people no longer have any say in my life. I’ll find new friends.” He swallowed, then nudged Kageyama. “People like you.”

Kageyama smiled, pleased. And that was all Teruki needed.

He didn’t realize it until after Kageyama had left. Their conversations really had changed over time. He could remember how getting Kageyama to talk had been like getting blood from a stone in the beginning. But now they could talk about… about anything.

They’d come so far. It brought a smile to Teruki’s face.

There was something else, though. A bitter note to his happiness. He’d kind of ended up lying to Kageyama. About his friends. Well, it was more of a white lie than anything. No, he couldn’t fully avoid them if he wanted things to stay the same as they had before. But he wouldn’t call it a friendship, really. More of a. Necessary social interaction. So. It hadn’t really been a lie.

Neither had it been a proper lie when he’d said that it’d never been a joke. It hadn’t! The bet had been made in a joking matter, but it hadn’t been a joke, per se.

But, then again, it kind of had been.

In the beginning, lying to Kageyama had been impossible. He’d had a way of seeing through his lies like Teruki was made out of glass.

Now Teruki knew better. He knew what buttons to press, what kind of a voice to use.

It was kind of…

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think about that one.

It made things easier. There was that. Teruki had been good at manipulating people from a very young age. It brought him a feeling of security to know that there were no conversations he couldn’t turn into a victory.

It’d been different with Kageyama. There was a different kind of safety to talking with him. He saw through the bullshit and still chose to be Teruki’s friend.

Even if Teruki could lie to him, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

Some things were better left under wraps, though. Some things were better buried and forgotten. And if a handful of white lies were going to help keep that together, then that was what Teruki was going to do.

After all, the lies couldn’t hurt Kageyama, if he didn’t know they were there.

Chapter Text

The new schoolyear started without much fuss. It was back to the grind with Teruki.

Even though he still sat down with his “friends” every other lunch break for the sake of looks, they didn’t have much to talk about. Teruki tried to keep things civil from his end, even though it felt like the others were doing everything in their power to pick up fights with him.

All expected, of course. As were the rumors, when people realized he was spending more and more time with people like Makoto and his guys. Teruki still thought the guy was boring. Who even cared about the development in Western printing technologies in the 1400? Makoto did, apparently. But he was a nice enough guy and he had interesting opinions about early black and white films, so Teruki supposed it was fine.

He never had to second-guess anything he was about to say when he was with them. And if he said something out of line, the guys were quick to point it out, but never with ill will.

It was strange. But. Nice.

Like maybe Teruki wasn’t losing so much by switching groups.

Not that Akemi and crew understood. They had now decided to pick Makoto as their newest target of ridicule. Akemi had some stories to tell. Teruki just had to try to tune them out.

They would pick on anyone if it made them feel better.

And while all of that was going on, Teruki was still meeting up with Kageyama weekly. It was a rare day when he didn’t at least text Kageyama at some point and his mood always got better when he got to walk home with him.

Something that had been on his mind a lot lately had been the idea of names.

They were close now. There was no denying that. Kageyama was the best friend Teruki had ever had and he wouldn’t change him for the world.

But they still spoke to each other with their last names.

Which was fine. Really. Teruki wasn’t complaining.

He just sometimes had thoughts. Like walking home hand in hand. And kissing each other good bye. And Kageyama calling him Teruki.

It was fine. Teruki was fine.

He could’ve maybe just asked. He was sure Kageyama would be okay with it.

The embarrassing thing was that. Well.

Teruki couldn’t remember Kageyama’s first name.

It was terrible. Awful. He was surely the worst best friend there was. He knew Kageyama had told it to him early on, he was sure of it. But back then he hadn’t thought it to be important enough to be remembered, a fact he was regretting now with his whole heart.

He supposed he could’ve asked Ritsu. And ended up right back on his black list for forgetting his big brother’s first name, no doubt. Reigen and Serizawa were options as well. Technically. But he didn’t know them enough to know what their reaction might’ve been. He kind of didn’t want to get on their bad sides either.

So that didn’t leave Teruki with a lot of options.

He licked his lips and looked around the table. The school cafeteria was nearly full, but none of the other students dared to approach the table of the elite.

“So,” he started slowly. “I kind of have a problem.”

That drew their attention away from Koichi’s pointless prattle about one of the girls he’d met at the beach, who was still apparently in the picture.

“Oh, so it still speaks,” Akemi said. “Now there’s a surprise.”

Teruki clicked his tongue. Should’ve known this was what he was going to get for opening his mouth.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” he said. “I just thought you might be of some help at least.”

“Wow,” Reiko said, draped over Mitsuru’s side.

“That really makes us want to help you now,” Mitsuru said.

Teruki rolled his eyes.

“Look, it’s a real simple thing.” He licked his teeth and tried not to let his nerves show on the outside. Any sign like that was going to bring nothing but misery to him. “Any of you happen to remember Kageyama’s first name?”

“Who, fish-boy?” Reiko asked.

Akemi burst out laughing, hand covering her face.

“Yeah, it’s not that funny,” Teruki said, squeezing his hands into fists under the table. “And don’t call him that.”

“No, but seriously,” Akemi wheezed. “It is kind of funny, right?” She looked around the table. “You’ve been trying to charm this guy for what, half a year now? And you don’t even know his name? Come on, are you even taking this seriously anymore?”

That stung more than Teruki would’ve liked to admit. It cut deep and left him with his mouth hanging open for a moment longer.

“Come on!” he said. “It’s not that simple.”

Even Koichi sputtered a short laugh that he tried to cover with his hand.

He should’ve said something. Anything, really. To cover his hide or to defend Kageyama.

But all he could think about was what Akemi had said.

Was that what he’d been doing? Not taking this seriously enough? He’d thought he was.

But he supposed he couldn’t be that good of a friend, if he couldn’t even remember his first name! Reigen had said it not too long ago and Teruki felt like it was on the tip of his tongue. Like he could remember it, if he tried hard enough.

But it wasn’t coming to him.

He wasn’t sure if the others noticed that he no longer took part in their conversation after that. Koichi gave him a strange look at one point, but that could’ve mean anything, really.

But then it hit him, out of the blue as he was getting back to his classes. He pulled his phone out and checked the wallpaper with Kageyama’s picture on it.

He was going at it all wrong. He was going at it, like he’d used to do things. Going behind people’s backs, scheming and doing background work before actually engaging with the problem.

But that wasn’t how he did things anymore, was it?

Not when it came to Kageyama, at least.

Hadn’t it been shown to him time and time again, that a direct approach was better?

He was going to have to take a page out of Kageyama’s book on this one. Be honest, be straightforward, but kind.

Straightforward and honest? Fine. That Teruki could do. It was easy, even.

But keeping it kind?

Well. He had charisma for that. He supposed that could work.

Nervousness just often made a fool out of him.

What he could do, was soften the blow a little. Make the occasion feel a little more special.

The candles might’ve been a little overboard. Teruki made them steaks. Nothing too fancy, but far from their usual, simpler foods. He’d even made it more special by inviting Kageyama ahead of time, to make sure he had time to prepare.

And to top it all off, he dressed in his best. The wonderful yellow jeans from some time back, coupled with a white and pink polka dotted dress shirt and blue suspenders. He’d say it was a surefire look to anyone on Kageyama’s level of fashion sense.

Sure, it got watered down a bit, when Kageyama came over with his usual out-of-school combo of a hoodie and jeans, but hey. Teruki was glad to have him over in any way he wanted to be. They were both in their comfort zones and that was the best he could hope for.

Kageyama looked around the apartment with wide eyes. And the candlelight lit him up so well Teruki had to pat himself on the back. It softened up his features even further and lit up his eyes like they were full of stars.

Kageyama turned to look at him and for a moment there was worry on his face. It marred the perfect image and made Teruki’s insides squirm. What did that mean? What was he thinking about?

“What is this?” Kageyama asked. He craned his head to look around, as if something might attack from behind any corner. “This seems…”

“It’s a little much, huh?” Teruki asked and laughed. He rubbed at his neck nervously. “Yeah. I guess. But I just thought I might make this occasion a little more special. Because there was actually something I wanted to ask you.”

Kageyama’s head turned to him so fast it looked like his neck was about to snap. Teruki was having a hard time interpreting the expression on his face, but the slight frown on his mouth didn’t seem good.

Okay. Okay, it was fine. He was going to fix this!

It wasn’t like he was about to ask Kageyama to date him or anything.

Hah.

Was that what Kageyama thought was happening?

Was that why he seemed so worried?

Oh no. This was a complete disaster, wasn’t it? It was only going to end in tears and Teruki was the one, who’d forced them here.

A hand landed on his arm.

“Hanazawa?” Kageyama said.

“Ah. Hah. Did I space out. Heh. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to – “

Kageyama squeezed his arm.

“Are you okay?”

Hah. Teruki chuckled a little and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I overdid it a little.”

Kageyama looked around.

“What were you planning to do?” he asked. “Or would you rather we eat first?”

“No, it’s… It’s fine,” Teruki said. “It’s just that… You know, we’ve known each other for a while, right?” He stepped closer to Kageyama. “Well, maybe not for that long, but I feel like we’re really close anyway. Like, closer than normal friends.”

Kageyama thought about it for a moment.

”I suppose,” he said.

”Right? So I was thinking, wouldn’t it be nice to call each other by our first names?”

Kageyama stared at him for a long moment. Really long. Like, longer than usual. Teruki felt sweat gathering at his neck and his skin itched with the need to turn away. What was he thinking about? What was taking so long? It wasn’t that weird of a request, was it?

Slowly, Kageyama blinked. He looked down, then nodded. It might’ve just been the low lighting, but Teruki was pretty sure he could see a pleasant little blush rising to his cheeks.

“I think I’d like that,” Kageyama said and his voice was a soft hum.

Teruki felt like he was going to vibrate right out of his skin. The moment was so good. So perfect. He could just… reach to cup Kageyama’s cheeks and lift his head and then –

No. Nope. Not going there. Not yet. They were taking things slow and he had other things to worry about right now.

He drew in a long breath, mentally preparing for the next part. “Great,” he said. “That’s great. But. Um. You see, much as I hate to admit it, I, uh, believe I might have forgotten your… first name.”

Kageyama blinked up at him.

“I’m sorry!” Teruki hurried to say. “You wouldn’t mind, uh, telling it to me, would you?”

Kageyama blinked again. Then he smiled.

“It’s okay,” he said, and Teruki spied some relief there. “I don’t actually remember your name either.”

Teruki’s gut reaction was to feel hurt by the admission. The second feeling that made its way to his head was betrayed anger, the third one following soon after, taking shape into embarrassment for the first two. The pettiness of it stole a chuckle out of him. Kageyama looked at him with a puzzled expression.

”That’s fine,” Teruki said. ”How about we do this again, huh?” He offered him his hand. ”Hanazawa Teruki. Nice to meet you.”

Kageyama’s smile grew wider, spread into his eyes and filled everything with warmth. He took Teruki’s hand into his and gave it a light squeeze.

”Kageyama Shigeo.”

Shigeo.

Life continued, as it tended to do. The first exams of the year rolled around and Teruki realized that he’d never been happier to help someone else study than he was when he was teaming up with Ritsu to help Shigeo with his assignments. And it was all the more rewarding, when Shigeo came to him afterwards with his report card, radiating satisfaction with his grades.

All in all, Teruki would’ve said that he was doing better than ever. He wouldn’t have changed his for anything in the world.

Yes, he could think of a few ways that things could be better. That was normal. Yes, he might not have complained if his and Shigeo’s relationship had developed into something more. It was fine, really.

He supposed he could’ve dated someone else. Take the edge off the yearning and all that. Makoto was nice and Teruki was pretty sure he was interested as well. It wouldn’t have hurt to try. Maybe get some experience in dating guys.

He just wasn’t feeling it.

Looking back on his earlier relationships, Teruki couldn’t say he’d felt much at all back then either with most of them. There’d been a handful that had felt more meaningful than others. Longer relationships, where he’d actually gotten to know the other a little better. His first girlfriend, when the whole dating idea had still felt weird and new.

But the excitement had gone down considerably since then. There’d been no feelings behind it. People had certain expectations about people on his level and that meant having a girlfriend show up every now and then. The more girls he’d had, the more impressed everyone seemed. So he’d chosen his partners only on the criteria that they’d look good next to him.

It’d been a social transaction. Both parties had gotten clout and most of the time both parties had known it’d just be temporary. The kisses had felt like nothing. Dates had been boring and by the number.

But now that he was in this friendship with Shigeo, he felt more than he had ever in any romantic relationship in his life.

He wondered if there was something wrong with him to feel like this. If maybe that was the reason why he was feeling this strongly. Because this didn’t seem exactly right. It wasn’t like this in movies. It was always love at first sight and instant attraction in the shows he’d watched. That, or bickering turning into flirting in the heat of the moment, with meaningful looks shared between the parties.

But this whole thing had kind of snuck up on him. It had grown slowly in his chest, drowning out all sense and reason, blooming while he hadn’t been paying attention. And now just walking home after school with Shigeo felt more impactful than any date he’d ever been on.

It was strange.

He felt more strongly about Shigeo than he’d ever felt about anyone.

And it was. A complicated thing.

He cared deeply for Shigeo.

He would’ve even gone as far as to say that he loved him.

Teruki just wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling.

If there was one thing Teruki really enjoyed, it was Shigeo wearing his clothes.

It was a simple joy. After such a long time of not being able to wear the styles he enjoyed out in the public, having the chance to dress up and dress Shigeo up with him was the purest sort of joy. Shigeo’s own style wasn’t anything special. He enjoyed simple things in life and Teruki wasn’t one to judge. Anymore. But he had to admit, there was a part of him that would’ve liked to make a complete overhaul to Shigeo’s wardrobe. Currently it was nothing but jeans and hoodies and T-shirts. His buying habits seemed to be choosing one style of shirt and then buying it in three colors. He could be so much more appealing on the outside if he just let Teruki raid his closet.

But, alas, Teruki loved Shigeo the way he was. His simplicity and relaxed outlook on life were endearing as well.

And maybe, at the very back of his mind, Teruki was a little terrified of the idea that if Shigeo became more physically appealing to the outsider, Teruki might find himself in some competition. Of course, no one had his levels of charisma and if it came down to a competition, he was sure he’d win. At least, in any regular situation he would’ve. But. Shigeo was Shigeo and his thoughts were an enigma. He didn’t want to put them into a situation where he might actually lose.

But the dressing up, it was all for good fun.

”Hmm, I think this would look nice on you,” Teruki said, pulling out the rainbow striped parka with the bright turquoise faux fur lining. ”Something about this screams Shigeo to me.”

Shigeo eyed the piece with trepidation. He was already dressed in light purple jeans and a hoodie that had stars on it that glowed in the dark. They were still within his comfort zone, but Teruki knew they could do so much better.

”I don’t think I’m hearing it,” Shigeo said slowly.

”That’s because you’re not wearing it!” Teruki declared, nudging it towards him. It was his favorite parka. The jeans were his favorites too, saved only for the most important occasions he’d never be able to wear them to. Although, maybe he should. Just to give it a try. To see the shock factor.

Shigeo twisted his mouth a little and reached to try the lining.

”Hmm,” he said. ”Soft.”

”Right? Here, put it on.”

Naturally Shigeo looked good in anything Teruki gave him. Traditionally handsome he might not have been, but who cared? He had the sort of charm that made him just so wonderful to look at. A softness to his features, a warmth to his eyes. Teruki’s choices of clothing just emphasized this warmth in all the best ways.

And he couldn’t hide it, seeing Shigeo in his favorite clothes was something that made his heart do flips in his chest.

Shigeo hummed and burrowed into the jacket, closing his eyes and rubbing his face against the lining and Teruki was never going to wash that jacket again.

”Nice, right?” he said, digging out his phone and managing to take just the perfect picture of him, sitting on his floor, a pleased look on his face and eyes closed. That was going to be his new background picture, no questions about it.

Shigeo hummed again, in agreement.

An idea came into mind.

”Hold on, I’ve got something else for you to wear,” he said.

They both had this favorite sweater. Teruki considered it the crowning jewel of his collection now, since it was what had first brought them together and what he’d worn to win over Shigeo during their first cuddle. It wasn’t only one of the softest, best things he had, but it was sure to be lucky as well with how much good it had done for Teruki.

It was a bit of a pain, he had to admit. The sweater. It was so soft that it could not be washed in the washing machine. That would ruin the texture. It needed to be hand washed. But that was a sacrifice Teruki would’ve been ready to make every day to keep his good luck going.

Teruki pulled it out.

”I want you to wear this!” he said.

Shigeo stared at it, before turning to Teruki.

”I couldn’t,” he said.

”Come on,” Teruki goaded. ”I know you want to wear it. It’ll feel even better like that.”

”Are you sure?” Shigeo. ”I don’t know… It’s your favorite.”

Teruki grinned wide, spotting his opportunity.

”You’re my favorite,” he cooed, gliding next to him with the sweater in his hands.

Shigeo shrunk down in bashfulness, cheeks so wonderfully pink.

”Come oooon,” Teruki said. ”You know you want to.”

Shigeo hummed, squirmed a little, then inevitably gave up.

”Okay,” he said. ”Okay, I do want to do that.”

”I knew it!”

Shigeo reached to pull off the hoodie. As he pulled it over his head, the edge caught to the T-shirt beneath it. The shirt travelled some ways up with it, revealing a strip of skin. Teruki swore he wasn’t looking on purpose. Of course not! He just… happened to turn his attention to it by accident. And then kept looking. Shigeo had been working out hard! If he had a six-pack underneath there somewhere, Teruki wanted to be among the first to congratulate him. Nothing weird about that.

The first thing Teruki’s eyes latched on was the amount of skin he was seeing. Scandalous. He was about to turn away, when his eyes caught on the scar.

It was thick, ugly and jagged, and it travelled from his navel to half way up his chest, where the edge of the shirt hid the rest.

Shigeo moved to straighten the shirt back down and picked up the sweater like nothing at all was wrong. He pulled the sweater on and lifted the collar up so he could nuzzle his face against the soft material. He’d pulled the sleeves down so they covered his hands completely.

Teruki’s head was ringing empty. He was still staring, even though the scar was no longer visible.

”It’s nice,” Shigeo said.

Teruki moved like in a daze, shuffled closer and reached for him. He placed his hand on Shigeo’s stomach, on the spot he’d seen the scar on.

”Hm?” Shigeo was looking at him.

Teruki ran his hand down to the hem of the sweater and lifted it. Shigeo yelped in surprise.

”Where did you get this?” Teruki asked.

Shigeo grabbed onto his hand and pulled it off. He wasn’t looking at Teruki, instead turning away from him and smoothing the sweater down.

”It’s nothing,” he said.

It clearly wasn’t. And that reaction wasn’t just for nothing either.

Teruki swallowed thickly, sat down next to him and placed his hands on his lap.

For a moment neither of them said anything. Shigeo played with the sleeves, pulling at them like he wanted to pick them apart. Teruki didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. He licked his lips.

“Uh,” he said. “Sorry I asked. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Shigeo said nothing. His hands stilled for a moment, then continued their pulling.

He really was going to pull the sweater apart.

Way to go, Teruki. Another moment ruined, just because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Shigeo opened his mouth, then hesitated. Teruki held his breath and waited for him to gather his thoughts.

“Would – “ Shigeo started, then stayed quiet for a moment longer. “Would it be okay, if I held your hand now?”

“I,” he said. “Yeah. Yes! Of course! You don’t even have to ask!” He never should. Teruki doubted there’d ever be a moment he wouldn’t be okay with holding hands with Shigeo. There was no way!

Shigeo was slow to reach over to him and Teruki opened his hands for him to grab onto. Shigeo slotted his fingers through Teruki’s and hummed. His hold was loose, but it seemed to give him some courage.

Teruki ran a careful thumb over his knuckles. The scars were easily noticeable bumps on his skin, running concurrently next to one another.

Shigeo was saying nothing. Teruki looked at him, but his attention was on their hands.

He cleared his throat. “You said,” he said carefully, “that these were from a cat?”

Shigeo hummed and closed his eyes.

“Are they really?”

Shigeo thought about it for a moment. Then he nodded.

“They are,” he said. “There was… there was this cat. That I was feeding. She got hurt.” He swallowed with some struggle and kept his eyes tight on Teruki’s fingers working over the scars. “I tried… I had to take her to a vet. But she was panicking. She. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

Teruki pressed his thumbs to his palms. He rubbed them softly and Shigeo’s fingers curled around his.

“So you took a cat to the vet,” he repeated slowly. It actually made sense, knowing Shigeo. That was something he would do, without a doubt. “Even though it was trying to fight you back?”

Shigeo nodded.

It made too much sense. But cuts like that should’ve healed, shouldn’t they? He’d always kind of assumed cat scratches were something that healed in a couple of weeks.

But then again, he hadn’t ever cared to put that idea to a test.

“Why didn’t these heal?” he asked. “Were they so deep?”

“I… I don’t…” Shigeo closed his mouth and breathed in, then breathed out. “I was… trying to hide them. I was wearing gloves. I… they got infected. It got… bad.”

Teruki licked his lips and considered things. He could leave it at this. This was big. But his curiosity wouldn’t leave it. Not when Shigeo was opening up to him like this.

“And the…” he started, then regretted the way he was putting it to words. He made soft motions towards Shigeo’s stomach with their hands. “You know.”

“A box cutter,” he said, and then said nothing more.

Teruki felt his mouth go dry.

Suddenly he had an answer for a question he hadn’t been thinking about in a while and he didn’t know what to do with it.

He didn’t like the answer one bit.

He didn’t like the implications.

Shigeo’s eyes were misty with unshed tears.

He didn’t want Shigeo to cry.

“You know,” he said, pulling the hands closer to him and pressing them tougher. “I think I really like your scars.”

Shigeo looked up. His brows were furrowed and eyes unfocused, so Teruki hurried to continue.

“I didn’t get it at first,” he said. “And I didn’t think much of it. But. You know, you got these for trying to help someone. No one else was going to do it and the cat was scared and hurt and you still helped it. I don’t think a lot of people would’ve done that.” He certainly wouldn’t have. At the time. He’d like to think he was a better person these days, but he still wasn’t sure he would’ve approached a panicking animal like that. “You’re really special, you know?”

Shigeo looked at him with rounded eyes and his mouth opened as if to say something. Nothing came out, though. The hands in Teruki’s were trembling. Then it stopped and Shigeo turned his hands so that he was gripping tight onto Teruki’s.

“And because of you,” Teruki continued, bolstered by the look he was giving him, “it survived.” He hesitated a moment. “It did… survive, right?”

Shigeo swallowed with struggle, then nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice a little steadier. “She… Reigen and Serizawa have her. She’s… I mean, she’s blind now. But she only got hurt because –”

“See?” Teruki cut in, squeezing their hands together. “She survived because of you. And it means you are one of the bravest, kindest, most wonderful people I have ever met and I think these scars just show how willing you are to do… so much.”

Tears rolled down Shigeo’s cheeks. Teruki jumped a little at the sight. Shigeo sniffled a few times and then a wobbly smile started pulling at his mouth.

“I…” he said, his voice stuffy. He swallowed a few times and nodded. “Thank you, Teruki.”

Teruki was going to be bold. He had the chance right here, right now, and he was going to go for it. He lifted the hands he was holding and pressed a soft kiss on the palm of the other. Shigeo looked up quickly, with a shocked expression and stared at Teruki with wonder. How this came as a surprise to him, Teruki couldn’t tell. He pressed his cheek against his hands and looked him in the eye, tried to see if there was any sign of discomfort there. But through Shigeo’s tears, he could see nothing but wonder.

Teruki closed his eyes.

He loved Shigeo so much it felt unreal.

Sitting down with his friends felt like subjecting himself to torture. At this point, it was like pulling teeth. He was wasting his time here, with these terrible people while he could’ve been using his time so much better. Their café was overpriced anyway and the food wasn’t good enough to excuse the bad company. Teruki crossed his arms and listened to them talk and talk about some new movie that had come out that he hadn’t seen yet.

He wondered if Shigeo would like to go see it with him. But then again, it was an action flick and those could be so loud. Maybe if he brought earplugs with them. That could work.

“Teru?” Koichi said. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” He looked up.

“About the movie,” Akemi said and lifted a brow.

“Oh,” he said. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

“You haven’t seen it?” Akemi asked. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t like movies?”

Teruki’s mood soured more. “We just haven’t had the time,” he said. “What’s it to you?”

Akemi turned to look at their friends, brows up and high.

“Well,” she said. “I guess it’s official, then. He’s really ruined all the fun you have left in your life, huh?”

Teruki ground his teeth together and held on tight to his arms.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said slowly, letting the others hear the annoyance. “It’s actually kind of the opposite.”

Akemi’s eyes narrowed.

“Come on,” Reiko said. “Don’t be petty.”

“Yeah, Teru, it’s just friendly ribbing,” Koichi said. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Yeah, I mean I think it’s pretty easy to see that this whole bet thing has ruined you,” Akemi said. “You used to be fun.”

“I used to be a piece of shit.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re still acting kind of shitty right now,” Reiko said.

“It’s the loser rubbing off on him,” Akemi said, sounding so sure about herself.

And Teruki was done.

Maybe he’d been done for a while now. But now he was really done.

He pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Koichi asked. “Come on, it’s just a joke.”

“Well, I’m not laughing. I’m done with this shit.”

“Are you serious?” Akemi asked and she actually sounded incredulous. Like she actually couldn’t believe Teruki was leaving.

“Yeah,” he said. He drew his lungs full and turned to face them.

Apparently this was the time to come clean, then. He would’ve never thought this was going to happen, but if he didn’t say something now, he was sure he was going to lose his mind.

“Look,” he said slowly. “This might come off as a shocker to all of you, but I’m done with your shallow shit. Being with Shigeo has actually done me a lot of good and I can now see how much of a shitty person I used to be. And spending time with you people just makes me feel that much worse. You bring out the worst in me and I’m done.”

Now they were actually paying attention.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Reiko asked.

“Funny thing is,” Teruki said, smiling smugly, “I’ve actually known for a while now that I prefer Shigeo’s company to yours. It’s just taken this long for me to grow a spine to come clean about it.”

“You’re joking, right?” Mitsuru said.

“Because if you are, we’re not laughing,” Reiko said and giggled afterwards, as if she’d just made a real genius level play with words.

“It’s no joke,” he said slowly, grinning from ear to ear when he leaned over the table to say: “turns out he has more personality than all of you combined.”

And with that, he pulled back up and turned around, slinging his bag over his shoulder with enough dramatics to leave a lasting impression. The others called after him. Reiko and Akemi still seemed to think it was a joke. Koichi was the only one, who sounded worried, but it was the change in status quo that had him frightened.

It was kind of scary.

Hell. Teruki’s heart was hammering all the way up in his throat for the stunt he’d just pulled.

But at the same time, it felt so damn good.

After all, he didn’t need any of them.

He was Hanazawa freaking Teruki. He had enough clout and charisma to carry himself and he didn’t need any of those losers.

And even if that was going to prove to be a false assessment, he’d still be better off without these people.

Yes, severing himself from the group was kind of scary. He had no idea what would happen next. And the thought had his insides squirming with worry. Their group had been the most notorious out of them all in his school. And now he was out of it. He had friends, but none as influential as them.

But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’d be better off without them.

And that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

So. It seemed like everyone had heard about the Saffron High royalty breaking up. It was the only thing people were talking about at school. Teruki could feel people staring at him as he made his way through the hallways.

He was used to their looks and he reveled in the attention.

He was looking better than ever. He was feeling better. For the first time in a while he felt light at school. Because he knew he didn’t have to waste his time with his former friends. He knew he wouldn’t have to force himself to take part in their conversations.

It was nerve-wracking.

It was exhilarating.

And Makoto’s crew welcomed him into their midst like a returning champion.

“You okay?” Makoto asked.

“Me? Absolutely,” Teruki said. And it wasn’t even a lie. He felt like he was soaring high. “Never felt better.”

Makoto grinned wide and clapped him on the back.

“Good on you!” he said. “And good riddance to them. You’re in our posse now!”

And he wasn’t going to be looking back.

Teruki felt like this was his lucky day. Like nothing could go wrong now.

Dumping Akemi and crew had been the second-best decision in his life.

So he felt like this was the perfect time to make his move.

Tonight was the night.

He was going to confess. Come what may, he was going to tell Shigeo how he felt. He knew that Shigeo wouldn’t think badly of him if he knew. He knew Shigeo wasn’t that kind of a person.

So he was going to do it tonight, when Shigeo came over.

This was going to be the nigh!

Teruki couldn’t stop grinning the whole day. He could tell that people could see and that made it all the better. His first official day out of the royalty and he was shining like the sun itself. Not even the sight of Akemi glowering at him during the lunch break could sour his mood. On the contrary!

He could see Akemi and Reiko following him when he left school and couldn’t care less. They must’ve been so confused when they spotted Shigeo waiting for him in their usual meeting spot.

Boldened by the day’s successes, Teruki offered his hand to Shigeo.

“Want to hold my hand?” he said, nerves completely gone and nothing but sunny personality shining through.

Shigeo looked at him with wonder, then reached for the hand and hummed. A small smile graced his face and Teruki didn’t think he could get any higher.

This was the dream. This was his day! It was going to happen!

The walk back to Teruki’s apartment was wonderful. They didn’t even get as many looks as he’d feared they would, walking hand in hand. Shigeo started to play with his fingers again and as far as Teruki was concerned, he didn’t need his hand back. Shigeo could keep it. This was how they were going to walk everywhere from now on.

They made food together, did their homework together and Teruki just kept waiting for the perfect moment to confess. Any moment probably would’ve been great. Any time when Shigeo looked at him and smiled, any of the times Teruki reached to touch him, to brush his hair aside, to take his hand. Any moment would’ve done it.

Teruki just found himself enjoying the moment too much to break it. They set up games on the TV and sat down to play. It wasn’t even that good of a game. It’d been a moment’s decision from a bargain bin sale. He’d only gotten it because it had a nice picture on the front cover.

And what a travesty the game was. A glitchy mess with characters that had barely any character. For some reason to Teruki that was the funniest thing in the world. Maybe it was just because he was drunk on the overwhelming happiness of the moment, maybe it really was that funny, it didn’t matter. What had started as slightly prickly comments about the main character’s lack of personality had turned into wheezing laughter every time the game attempted to give him an emotional character arc. And when Teruki started laughing hard enough to choke on his own spit, Shigeo started laughing at him, and that just fed Teruki’s hysterics even more.

Teruki felt like he was going to pass out from laughter and with neither of them paying attention to the poor character on the screen, he died with a pitiful screech that must’ve been recorded in one sitting, with a voice actor who knew he wasn’t getting paid enough to do another take. Teruki was nearly draped over Shigeo at that point. He leaned his head against Shigeo’s shoulder, his laughter dying down into a quiet wheeze. Shigeo’s laughter was far more subdued, a small shake of his shoulders. They were quiet, nearly breathless chuckles that Teruki probably wouldn’t even have been able to hear had he not been this close. He drank them up, absorbing them all the way into his bones like they were rays of sun and he was just a simple weed at the side of the road.

He lifted his eyes to look up at Shigeo and his eyes had grown thin, his smile pulling them nearly shut. They were close. Very close.

With just a small reach, they could be…

Right now, they could, if they wanted to…

Teruki licked his lips, staring at Shigeo’s. This was it. This was his moment. He reached his hand towards Shigeo’s neck, ran his fingers through his hair, studying Shigeo’s face carefully for any sign of discomfort.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled Shigeo’s head closer.

Just a hair’s breadth away now. Just a small reach more.

Indecision darted across Shigeo’s eyes and he looked away.

Teruki pulled back.

”Are you okay?” he asked. ”If… if this isn’t something you want, it’s okay.” It didn’t feel okay, but he wasn’t quite selfish enough to say that.

”Um.” Shigeo started rubbing at his arm.

Teruki pulled further back, giving him more room to breathe. That only seemed to make Shigeo more uncomfortable, his breathing hitching up.

”Hey,” Teruki said, reaching to brush some hair off his face. Shigeo looked at him, eyes jumping all over him. “It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. It’s fine.”

Shigeo licked his lips, then turned to look at his lap.

The last thing Teruki wanted to do was to be forceful. He didn’t want Shigeo to think that he had no other choice but to follow Teruki’s lead.

Much as it pained to admit it, Teruki would take rejection if that was what he was going to be given. He was going to take it and then become the best friend Shigeo could ever have. He’d cry and scream into his pillow until the pain would fade and then they’d continue as they’d done so far.

It was no fun if both of them weren’t having a good time.

Teruki tilted his head so that he could look Shigeo properly in the eye. He smiled a little and ran a hand down his cheek. “I don’t want to push you into things,” he said. ”If you… if you don’t want to do something like that, I’m fine with it.” Honesty. He should be honest. He looked down, chuckled a little, then said: “Well. Ah. I will be fine. In a while. Just. I just want to know where you’re standing on this. If that’s okay.”

Shigeo was quiet for a while. He looked at Teruki, then back at his lap, where his hands were cradled together.

”I’m,” he started with no small amount of uncertainty. ”I’ve been aware for a while now that. You have. Um. Feelings for me. Like, more than just being friends.”

Teruki licked his lips and shifted.

“Uh. Yeah. Well, I mean. I mean, yes. Yes, I do. Um. Like you. Like, like you, like you.”

Despite his scrambled words, Shigeo nodded his head like he wasn’t speaking complete nonsense.

”Is that…?” Teruki started, then thought about how he should phrase this. ”Is that okay? With you? Or… does that make you feel uncomfortable?”

Shigeo shook his head.

”I was kind of worried about… talking about it,” he said. ”I know I should’ve brought it up sooner. Reigen says… um, that you should talk about how you feel, because people can’t read your mind. He said that. And. I thought you might bring it up at some point so I wouldn’t have to. But. I guess now you did.”

Teruki’s nerves were twisting in his stomach.

”You know,” he said slowly. ”If you want to, like, continue doing things like we’ve done them before, that’s perfectly okay with me. I just. Yeah. I like you. A lot. And if you wanted to try things out, that would be, like, even better. For me. But I’m down with whatever.”

What was he saying? This was nothing! He had nothing and they were just sitting here. All the wonderful, awful ideas about confessing and ending the night with the two of them making out had gone right into the wind in an instant, leaving behind this weird, awkward conversation.

But then again. This was about what he should’ve expected. Never would he have thought that he, Hanazawa Teruki, would end as a nervous wreck while confessing his feelings. He’d kind of always assumed that if that became relevant to his life, he’d be able to be cool about it. That he would’ve told the person of his dreams about his feelings under cherry blossoms, cool and uncaring.

Instead his hands were sweaty and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

”Would it be okay if I… thought about it for a while?” Shigeo asked.

”A while? Like… for a few hours or…?”

Shigeo twisted his mouth.

Teruki looked down, then smiled a little.

Honestly, this was more than he’d thought he was going to get. It was probably more than he deserved.

He reached a hand to place it on Shigeo’s.

”Take all the time you need,” he said. ”I can wait for you. I’d probably wait for years, you know. But. Whatever you decide is going to be fine with me. Even if you don’t want to take things to the next level, I’d be fine with just. Cuddling and watching movies with you, you know?”

And there it was. Somehow, through his fumbling and broken sentences, Teruki had managed to find the right words to get the tension to drain from Shigeo’s features and the smile to return.

”Thank you, Teruki,” he said, leaning against his side. Teruki felt like relaxing too, melting into the embrace and leaning his head against Shigeo’s shoulder.

Yeah, he thought. Getting turned down by Shigeo would hurt. But he meant what he’d said. He could live being close like this as well. He’d keep his little fantasies and dreams in the back of his mind, but even just like this, he felt like he was happier than he’d ever been before.

For a few weeks, they didn’t talk about it. Teruki felt like it was constantly on his mind. It was the first thing he thought about when he woke up, it was the butterflies in his stomach that kept him up at night. He could’ve been doing something completely unrelated and see a picture of a cat and there it was again. The feeling.

He tried to be polite enough about it. Shigeo deserved all the time he needed to think about it, even though what Teruki really wanted to do was grab onto the front of his uniform jacket and beg him to give him an answer.

But yeah. He was fine with waiting or whatever. It wasn’t like the rest of his life was on the line here. Shigeo’s words would change everything.

No big deal. He could wait.

Not a lot actually changed during that time. They still kept seeing each other like normal, spent time together after school and texted each other. There was just this air of uncertainty over them that Teruki was having a hard time shaking. It took all of his willpower and charisma to keep it from showing on the outside.

Two and a half weeks into the wait – not that Teruki was counting – he got a text from Shigeo, asking him to meet him at a park after school and Teruki knew this was it.

Shigeo very rarely made the first move. Even now, this far into their friendship, Shigeo was far more comfortable with letting Teruki make the plans and Teruki didn’t mind that one bit. He could count with the fingers of his one hand the times Shigeo had invited him anywhere and those times were all precious and dear to him, held close to his chest at all times.

When the text came, Teruki felt like he was standing on top of the highest mountain in the world.

This was it. This was the deciding moment.

Through the entire day, waiting for the big moment, Teruki felt jittery. Even seeing his old posse didn’t get him down, even though he could see them throwing weird looks his way. Nothing could ruin this.

Because if Shigeo was inviting him to a specific location to have a talk, if he was pulling a stunt like this, not just speaking his mind when they were staying at Teruki’s place, he must’ve been planning for this for real. It had to mean something special. If he was going this far to have the conversation, small as it might have seemed to an outsider, there was no way the response was going to be negative, right?

Teruki had to believe that. He was so sure.

He had to look his best for the occasion. They were going to be meeting right after school, which was not ideal. As much as he wanted the moment to be special, with him dressed in his best clothes, it just wasn’t going to happen. Teruki couldn’t go and change into better clothes, he wouldn’t have the time. So school uniform it was. Which was fine. A classic look for a confession scene, he was aware.

At least he could make himself as presentable as possible.

Half his breaks were spent in front of a mirror in the bathroom, making sure his hair would be perfect, the other half on a toilet seat, cradling his head and hyperventilating. Which was completely unnecessary. He had no reason to be nervous.

It was just the day that would decide the course of the rest of his life. So. Hah. No pressure!

Why was his hair looking more flat than usual?!

When the last bell rang, Teruki had to peel himself off the mirror so he wouldn’t be late. Being fashionably late for an event like this just wasn’t an option. He hurried out of school like he had fire on his heels, nearly ran through the park entrance where they’d agreed to meet up at and had to swing back and forth on his heels to dispel some of the nervous energy from his limbs.

The wait was torture. He’d been fine during the last seventeen days – again, not that he was counting – but Teruki felt like if he was going to have to wait one moment longer, he was going to combust and all Shigeo would find afterwards was charred clothing.

In the end, the wait couldn’t have been much longer than five minutes, but it’d felt so much longer. People passed him by, giving him strange looks as he fidgeted, but Teruki couldn’t care less about their opinions. He was waiting for the love of his life and he could be as nervous as he liked! Not that he was nervous. He craned his neck, trying to catch even the smallest glimpse of that familiar face in the sea of people.

When he did, Teruki’s face melted into a smile too big for his face and he raised a hand to a wave.

“Hi! Shigeo! Over here!”

Shigeo was smiling as well and that was when Teruki knew. This was it. This was going to be it.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe properly. Suddenly the very public park felt way too open.

“Hello,” Shigeo said as he reached Teruki. His smile was small and warm.

“Sooo…” Teruki said, trying to stop swinging his arms around. “What’s the plan?”

“Um.” Shigeo looked down and shifted his feet. “Would it be okay, if we found a place to sit and. Talked a little?”

“Yeah,” Teruki said, breathless. “I think. I think that’d be nice.”

He offered his hand to Shigeo and he took it without another thought, curling his fingers around Teruki’s.

They found a bit of a more secluded spot away from people, near a small pond. Here, the bushes grew closer to the water line and nearly swallowed a lonely bench. Sitting down on it, they were nearly invisible to the passersby and no one who didn’t know they were there would’ve been able to pick them out from the outside.

For a moment, they just sat down in silence. Teruki was watching Shigeo watch the ducks in the pond. They paddled closer to see if they had any food to give, before finding someone else throwing peas into the pond close by. The bushes rustled in the pleasant wind and Teruki was sure he’d burst if they didn’t start talking soon.

Shigeo hadn’t let go of his hand when they’d sat down and he was holding it on his lap now, drawing lines on Teruki’s skin while he gathered his thoughts.

“I wanted to…” he started with no small amount of uncertainty. He started to play with Teruki’s fingers. “It’s, um. Hard for me to trust people. Sometimes.”

Teruki opened his mouth, then closed it and thought over what he was going to say. Instead of coming up with anything smart to say, he croaked out a: “Oh?”, too focused on the hands twisting his fingers gently.

“Um,” Shigeo said, solely focused on Teruki’s hands now. “There used to be this girl. Asagiri. She. Um. She pretended to be my friend, so she could – “ His breath shuddered and he fell silent for a moment. Under his breath, he muttered: “I don’t want to talk about Asagiri right now.”

Teruki didn’t want to talk about her either. He could think of a bunch of more pleasant topics they could be talking about. But his throat was too dry to work. He cleared it a few times and pulled at the words swirling in his head.

“We don’t have to,” he said, trying to pretend like he had any idea what was going on anymore.

“It’s just…” Shigeo said. “I’ve been… thinking. And I know that. You like me. Like. More than a friend. I know that.”

Teruki swallowed thickly. Yeah. He couldn’t really deny that at this point.

”Yes,” he said slowly. ”I do. I wanted to – ”

”Please let me finish,” Shigeo said, hunching down a little.

Teruki snapped his mouth shut and nodded.

“I’ve been… talking with Reigen a lot,” he said. “It’s. Hard for me to let people close. But you’ve been so nice to me. And I really like you, Teruki.”

“Ah.” Teruki’s heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. He swallowed down words as they tried to climb out of his throat to give Shigeo time. It wasn’t a confession yet. They both liked each other. Teruki knew that already. What he wanted to know was the nature of the relationship Shigeo was talking about.

“So I’ve been talking with Reigen about being… proactive,” he continued slowly, lowly. “About… about wanting things in my life for myself and trying to work for them. And it’s, um… It’s something I really admire about you, Teruki. You… When you want something, you just go and get it and I think that’s really cool.”

Teruki had to swallow again, words rising up his throat to blurt out that he really admired Shigeo too. But he was talking now. He was opening up and it was like watching a flower bloom. He didn’t dare to breathe a word, or he might make him wilt before he got to the end.

”And I asked Reigen what he thought I should do,” he continued, moving Teruki’s fingers up and down, bending them a little. ”And I… I think I know what I want.” Very slowly, he weaved their fingers together, slotting his digits between Teruki’s and held his hand. Teruki’s mouth was as dry as a desert. Shigeo lifted his eyes slowly to look at him.

And his eyes. Oh, his wonderful, handsome eyes. They were so full of warmth. They were so open and just for him. After all this, after nearly ruining the best chance of happiness ever to accidentally stumble into his life, Teruki had somehow earned… this. His hand was trembling in Shigeo’s and he could barely breathe. He’d never guessed it could be like this.

This… This was for him. The smile Shigeo was offering, it was just for him. They’d worked so hard to get to this point and Teruki could hardly believe that Shigeo would look at someone like him like that. Shigeo admired Teruki? That was ridiculous, Teruki was the one who admired him. He was the brave one, the honest one, the one he could share everything with.

”Would it be okay with you if…” Shigeo started, then looked down. Teruki could see the blush coating his cheeks and he felt like he was in heaven. ”If we… kissed? Maybe?”

”Yeah,” he managed to say out loud. ”Yeah, that’d be… Wow, that would actually be pretty nice.”

Shigeo laughed. It was a small thing, a tiny chuckle, but it filled Teruki’s heart with so much pride he was sure it was going to burst. Shigeo leaned closer, eyes closed, lips puckered and he really hadn’t kissed anyone before, huh? Teruki’s insides were warm mush. He lifted a hand to his face, tilted his head a little and met him half the way.

A good kisser Shigeo was not. He wasn’t moving at all, just sitting there with his hands on his lap, lips pursed. Teruki felt like he’d never had a better kiss in his life. They could learn. They had time. He tilted Shigeo’s head a little more, opened his lips to show him how it was really done, when he saw a flash and heard a camera click.

The loud cheer was the one that had Shigeo pulling away from him, looking around startled.

”Nice job, Teru! I honestly thought you’d never get it done!”

It was Koichi. He and Akemi had their phones out and Akemi’s smarmy smile was insufferable.

It was like a splash of cold water at his face.

”Guys,” he started slowly, lifting his hand.

Shigeo looked from Koichi to Akemi, still so wonderfully flushed, but now with confusion the most prominent expression on his face.

”Man, you were right,” Akemi said, already tapping on her phone. ”He really hadn’t kissed anyone before, huh? Did you see that? Hardly qualifies, right?”

“Oh, come on,” Koichi complained. “A deal’s a deal and he won fair and square.”

”Guys, I think you should leave,” Teruki said, getting off the bench.

”Oh, these are your friends,” Shigeo said, his shoulders relaxing a little. ”I remember them.”

Teruki turned to him, offering him a strained smile. ”I’ll deal with this, Shigeo. Give me a moment.”

”A little slow on the uptake, huh?” Akemi said. ”Fits the description.”

”Um,” Shigeo said.

They were making him uncomfortable. Teruki needed to diffuse the situation right now, so they could get back to the task at hand. His heart was hammering hard against his chest.

”Come on,” he said with his mock lazy tone that felt all too foreign to him in this moment. ”Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

Shigeo spluttered and shrunk down on the bench, his blush twice the brighter.

”Yeah, I caught the whole thing!” Koichi said, waving his phone. ”Nice work!”

”Yeah, it only took you half a year, but you finally did it,” Akemi said. ”Congrats.”

”Shut up!” Teruki barked, panic setting into his stomach. ”Shut up right now.”

”What’s going on?” Shigeo asked.

”You’re finally off the hook,” Akemi said. ”Isn’t it nice? Come on, let’s leave. I’m sending this to everyone.”

”No, give me that,” Teruki said reaching for her phone, but she just danced out of his reach, tongue out and laughing.

”Too late, too late!” she cheered.

”Come on, Teru,” Koichi said. ”Everyone needs to see this or they won’t believe you won the bet. Don’t be a jerk about it.”

”The bet?”

Shigeo’s voice was so small it would have easily gotten lost in the background noise, but Teruki heard it alright. He swirled around to face him, hands up and waving.

”It’s nothing! You don’t have to worry about it! Let me handle this, we can get going soon. Let’s go to my place after this, yeah? We won’t have an audience there.”

Shigeo’s smile was a little uncertain, and it died a horrible death when Akemi said: ”Come on, you don’t have to keep pretending to like him anymore. You got the kiss, let’s go.”

And suddenly there was nothing left on Shigeo’s face. No expressions, no warmth, nothing. The blush remained, but it was fading fast while Shigeo grew paler.

Teruki turned to Akemi.

”You shut your mouth!” he yelled. ”Shut up! Don’t –! Don’t say one thing more!” Back to Shigeo. ”Shigeo, Shigeo, please, listen to me –”

”It was for a bet?” he said, quietly, evenly, no inflections in his tone.

”No, no it was –”

”Yeah, dude, I’m sorry,” Koichi said. ”But hey, at least –”

Teruki planted his fist on Koichi’s mouth before he could finish the sentence.

”What the hell?” he shouted, backing away, covering his face. ”Dude!”

”Man, you were right,” Akemi said. ”I didn’t see it before, I was just calling him that because you said it first, but he kind of does look like a dead fish.” She turned to smile at Teruki, her eyes narrow and full of mirth. “But that’s about what I should’ve expected, I guess, from the way you described him.”

Shigeo was standing up. He was getting up and turning and oh God he was leaving.

”Shigeo!” Teruki shouted, his voice breaking.

”It was all part of a bet,” he repeated, quieter. It wasn’t a question this time.

”Sorry to crush your dreams, buddy!” Akemi said in singsong tone. Koichi stood up next to her, putting his hand on her arm and shaking his head.

”No!” Teruki said. ”It wasn’t!”

Shigeo stared at him and the void behind his eyes was unforgiving. He saw right through him.

”I – I mean. I mean, at first, maybe, but – !” Teruki started.

”I see,” Shigeo cut him off with his perfect monotone. ”That would explain it then, I suppose.”

And just at the end of the sentence, at the very end, Teruki heard how his voice broke.

”Shigeo,” he said, reaching for him. ”Shigeo, let me explain.”

He pulled back before Teruki could touch him.

”I… I need to…” he said, looking away.

”Please listen to me!” Teruki pleaded. ”I can explain the whole thing. It’s a funny story, actually, let’s just go to my place and I can tell you everything, I swear it isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

But his words weren’t reaching him. Nothing was. Shigeo was turning away from him, leaving him behind, abandoning him here with these people and oh God, what he must have thought.

”No, Shigeo, please! Listen to me!” He grabbed his shoulder.

Shigeo froze for one short moment, his eyes growing wide and the dread in Teruki’s stomach coalesced into a sharp point. Shigeo turned around and slapped his hand away and pushed him back with a surprising amount of strength.

”Stay away from me,” he said, the most severe he had ever been with Teruki and…

Teruki’s hands dropped to his sides.

Shigeo spared him just the shortest of glances before turning around and walking away.

”Teru?” Koichi said with uncertainty in his voice.

Teruki wasn’t hearing any of it.

Chapter Text

It was fine. It was okay.

Things were great.

Teruki was going to fix this.

He was definitely going to be able to fix this. So he was fine. He wasn’t worrying. Absolutely not! He was Hanazawa Teruki after all. There was no relationship he couldn’t turn to his advantage! And that was why he’d be able to fix this and things would go back to normal. When they were done, it’d be like there’d never been a problem to begin with!

It was just that Shigeo wasn’t responding to his texts. Or answering his calls.

Which was fine. He was probably mad. Boy, Teruki sure would’ve been livid to learn that he’d been an unwilling participant in a bet like that. Hah. He would’ve… he would’ve been so mad.

But it didn’t matter! Because the bet hadn’t been important to him for ages now. It was ancient past and Shigeo really shouldn’t have been that affected by it. It was kind of insulting that he’d taken Akemi’s word for it instead of listening to Teruki, actually. If anyone had right to be angry in this situation, it was surely Teruki.

But then again, Shigeo didn’t get mad. He got quiet. He pulled into his shell and oh God, he wasn’t answering his phone and if he wasn’t answering his phone, Teruki couldn’t explain it to him properly and he was just going to stay quiet and they were never going to be able to solve this.

But it was fine. It was fine! All he needed to do was explain things. And then they’d laugh it off. Hah! What a silly thing that had been to get so emotional over! Teruki had been a completely different person when he’d made that bet. He’d changed so much since then! And partially thanks to Shigeo too! So they should’ve just been able to talk things through.

The problem was, Teruki couldn’t talk to him if Shigeo didn’t listen to him.

And it was a big problem.

Not… not that big, though. Surely, they’d be fine.

Right. Because it’d been so easy to earn Shigeo’s trust in the first place. Because it wasn’t like it’d been a long road to build their relationship to where it’d been before that trust had been broken.

Because it wasn’t like broken trust was hard to mend, right?

A not so insignificant part of his brain kept whispering terrible lies to his ear. Forcing the uncertainty into his bones.

Shigeo wouldn’t be coming back. He’d disappear. Teruki had lived sixteen years of his life without meeting him and he’d disappear into the same void again like he’d never been there in the first place. There’d be nothing he could do about it. Just like his parents, Shigeo would just stop contacting him and then he’d be alone.

He was going to end up lonely and miserable. The only people who could stand his company were the terrible kind, who only tolerated him for his social status. He’d be forced to crawl back to his old crew, beaten and humbled and they’d just laugh at him. They’d enjoy watching him struggle to reach their heights again and laugh when he’d slip and fall. Teruki couldn’t maintain proper relationships with anyone else and he was going to be alone forever.

Those were the thoughts that haunted him the most. The ones he was trying to drown under the weight of self-confidence. He couldn’t listen to the thoughts. If he did, he would slip into the pit he could feel opening under his feet.

So, no. Those thoughts couldn’t be true. He was going to fix this and everything was going to be fine!

He was Hanazawa Teruki, and Hanazawa Teruki failed at nothing.

Shigeo left all his messages unread. He’d been to the messaging app, but he hadn’t opened the chat with Teruki even once, leaving the dozens and dozens of texts unseen. Teruki knew that. He was keenly aware. And yet, he couldn’t stop texting him.

It was a problem.

Teruki knew Shigeo got unresponsive when he was uncomfortable, but at least before, Teruki had been there in person to diffuse the situation. It was so much harder to catch his attention when he was deliberately withdrawing from social interactions. Teruki was sure if he was able to get just one message through to him, if maybe he saw even part of one on his phone screen, he’d understand. So he texted more. Excuses. Explanations. It was just a joke! He isn’t even friends with those people anymore! Didn’t Shigeo trust him? He should’ve known Teruki better by now! He was sorry, he hadn’t meant it.

It didn’t help. None of it did. Every message sent made him feel worse, with panic coiling around his guts. He could’ve said things better. He should’ve said more. He should’ve said less. What if Shigeo read them and misunderstood what Teruki had tried to say? So he sent messages explaining things better. Only to regret those as well.

And he still wasn’t reading them. His phone went to generic voicemail when Teruki tried to call him and the panic gripped him tighter.

It’d only been three days.

It felt more like months since he’d heard from Shigeo.

It was the longest weekend of his life.

Teruki had skipped school on Friday. He just… he couldn’t have left his home even if he’d wanted to. He hadn’t been able to gather himself enough to go there and face Akemi’s smug look. He wasn’t sure what he’d do the next time he saw her. Or Koichi.

Koichi had actually messaged him a few times over the weekend. The first message had dropped on Friday.

You sick today?

Teruki had had half a mind to send a scathing response back. He’d been kicked out of the group chat when he’d made his grand exit, but apparently Koichi had thought better than to lose his number.

Apparently Teruki practicing restraint and not filling Koichi’s messages with name-calling and curses was a sign for Koichi to start pestering him.

And it really was a test of commitment for Teruki.

He spent the entire weekend with his phone in his hands, waiting for any sort of acknowledgment from Shigeo. Instead, the only messages he got, were careful pokes at his mental state from Koichi.

He wasn’t apologizing. Not that Teruki would’ve forgiven him even if he had. But it made him all the more angrier to have Koichi sliding into his DMs with shaky pretenses and non-apologies.

Teruki had no time for him.

The unthinkable happened on Sunday evening, just as Teruki had been preparing for another night of restless sleep. He’d opened his messages for one last look at them before going to bed, when he’d noticed the change.

Shigeo had read his messages.

Or. Well. Granted, he might’ve just opened them to get rid of the notifications. But he also might’ve read them, since the little marker at the bottom had gone from sent to read. Teruki wasn’t completely sure when it had happened, but at some point, between him eating his dinner and washing up for the evening, Shigeo had been there and Teruki had missed it.

He hadn’t exactly responded in any way, mind you. He’d just. Been there.

And in that moment Teruki had been forced to grit his teeth and curl his fingers into fists so the temptation of barraging him with more messages hadn’t taken him over.

It came as no surprise that he hadn’t slept well that night.

And now it was Monday and he looked a right mess at school. He knew Makoto could tell. Makoto’s friends tried to ask him about it, but they learned quickly that approaching him was only going to get them hurt.

Teruki found himself slipping into the worryingly familiar patterns of snark. He was spitting venom at anyone who dared to get too close. He could see the hurt on Makoto’s face when he did it and it only fed the vicious circle further. Teruki was feeling bad. So he acted out. Which hurt the people around him. Which made him feel even worse.

The whole Monday, his insides were twisting and turning. Sitting still for the classes was pure torture. He got called out by a teacher three times for being on his phone rather than paying attention, and his classmates went from snickering at him to shooting worried glances that only made Teruki lash out harder.

And all the while, some unnamed feeling was clawing at him from the inside, making him feel ugly and unwanted. Makoto and his friends started avoiding him. Whispers started reaching his ears.

This was what happened to you, when you went against the Saffron High royalty.

This was what happened to you, when you fell.

He couldn’t take it any longer.

It’d been three days.

He had to see Shigeo again. Face to face.

That was going to fix it. That was going to make it okay again.

If he’d just listen to Teruki.

It’d be okay.

When he left school that day, he must’ve looked like roadkill. His skin felt waxy and no amount of concealer was going to remove the bags from under his eyes. At least it took attention away from the glassy, unfocused look in them. Teruki wasn’t looking his best and he was ready to admit that to anyone who asked. It didn’t matter. His looks were dead last in a long list of things that were more important right now.

He had to go to Peppermint High. If Shigeo wasn’t responding to his texts or picking up the phone, then Teruki would have to be more assertive. He couldn’t not respond, if they were talking face to face, right?

Right. Because Shigeo was known for being so talkative.

It didn’t matter! He was going to go there and he was going to make things right.

He got worried looks thrown his way when he arrived at the Peppermint gates. His tie was skewed and now that he was paying attention, Teruki noticed that he’d buttoned his shirt wrong. And no one had said anything the whole day! Well, maybe they hadn’t said anything because he’d been acting like he was going to bite off the head of anyone getting too close.

No matter. It was fine. He started rebuttoning his shirt. Soon it’d be nothing but a memory he and Shigeo could laugh about later on in their life, when they’d be old and married. Shigeo would come over and he could stay and play on the console while Teruki took a nap and everything was going to be just fine.

He kept his eyes on the people trickling out of the Peppermint grounds. They left the school in pairs and groups, some stragglers staying behind for longer and dragging their feet. None of them looked familiar. None of them were Shigeo.

Teruki clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. It was fine. He had time. And soon this little fight was going to be nothing but a distant memory.

Slowly the stream of people grew thinner, then stopped completely. Teruki swung back and forth on his feet. The last few students ran through the gates and then there was no one else left.

It was just Teruki, standing out like a sore thumb.

He couldn’t have missed Shigeo, could he? No, no, he’d been watching like a hawk and he would’ve recognized Shigeo anywhere. He hadn’t walked through here.

An ugly thought started to twist in his guts.

Had Shigeo maybe seen him and hid? Had he seen Teruki and decided he wanted nothing to do with him?

That couldn’t be it.

It just… couldn’t.

But the way he’d looked at Teruki on that day…

No. It just couldn’t be true. It was far more likely that they’d just somehow… missed each other. Shigeo might’ve left earlier. Or he might still be inside. Maybe he’d forgotten a book or something and had gone back. Maybe he was still talking with somebody.

There were many plausible explanations.

Teruki didn’t know if he could trust any of them.

“Oh! Hanazawa, was it? What are you doing in here?”

He jumped at the loud, booming voice and lifted his head to see a tall, muscular high schooler approaching him with a gym bag on his shoulder. The guy lifted his hand in greeting and smiled widely.

It took Teruki a moment to realize that he recognized this guy. He’d only met him once officially, but he’d heard more than an earful from Shigeo. The captain of his after-school club, Musashi, greeted Teruki amicably.

“I haven’t seen you in a while! I hope you’re doing well.”

Teruki grimaced. Musashi tilted his head, taking in his haggard state.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. His voice was far kinder than Teruki had expected, considering the current situation.

“I…” he started. Maybe Shigeo hadn’t told him? That was the only reason he could imagine why Musashi wasn’t threatening him with bodily harm right now. “I need to… I came here to talk to Shigeo. I have to – “

Musashi lifted his hand. “It’s okay,” he said. “Take it easy, Hanazawa. I’m not sure what’s going on, but Kageyama isn’t here. He didn’t come to school today. His brother has kindly let us know that he’s sick.”

Teruki’s heart lurched and he grabbed onto the front of his shirt, grasping at his chest.

“He… Sick?” he said.

Sick, or pretending to be so he didn’t have to leave his house?

No, no, Shigeo wouldn’t resort to such trickery. It wasn’t something he did.

Teruki’s insides were twisting.

“I’m sure it’s okay,” Musashi said. “It’s flu season, after all! I’m sure he’ll be right as rain in a few days and ready to do squats to catch up any lost progress!”

Teruki couldn’t breathe.

He was feeling faint. He couldn’t hear a word Musashi was saying. There was a thundering sound in his ears drowning out everything else.

A heavy, warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing tight. Only then did Teruki realize just how hard he was shivering.

“You don’t look like you’re feeling so well yourself,” Musashi said. “Are you sure you should be out like this? You have to listen to your body when it tells you it’s tired!”

Teruki slapped his hand off him.

“I’m fine!” he croaked.

Shigeo wasn’t here, so he’d wasted time coming this way. If he really was sick, he wouldn’t have left his house. Which meant that that was where Teruki was going to find him. He turned on his heels and started a manic march towards the Kageyama residence.

This could be good, actually. He could turn this to his advantage. If Shigeo really was sick, then Teruki could help nurse him back to health. And then Shigeo would realize just how much of a caring, trustworthy and reliable of a guy he was and forgive him for everything.

It was going to be fine.

He wasn’t worried.

Teruki half-jogged, half-stumbled to the Kageyama neighborhood. Without stopping to check his hair or straightening his tie, he rushed to ring the doorbell. His heart was hammering all the way up in his throat, trying to choke him when he reached it. He held his breath, trying to will it to calm down, but it wasn’t helping one bit.

No one came to the door.

He could hear nothing from the other side. No conversations, no approaching footsteps.

Teruki wrung his tie in his hands, then rang again.

The response was the same on the third time as well.

“Come on,” he ground out. “Come on, come on!” He rang it again and again and again, but it changed nothing.

No one was coming.

”Shigeo?” he called, pulling back and trying to see through the windows beside the door. ”Please. If you’re there, please. I just want to… I need to talk with you!”

Should he try calling him again? But the calls went to voicemail. Maybe he wasn’t at home either? But where else could he possibly be? He was always either at home, at school, with Teruki or at work. And today wasn’t a workday.

Teruki slid down to sit in front of the door, knees against his chest. He needed to – He had to talk to him. He could fix this.

He could. As long as Shigeo would allow him to explain, he knew he could. Teruki was going to make things right and put them back on track and it was going to be great.

Oh God. It wasn’t going to be great. It wasn’t. Shigeo would never speak to him again. He hated Teruki. He hated him so much. Teruki was going to die alone.

He buried his head into his hands and grit his teeth together hard. The screech of his teeth made his head ache and he curled his fingers into fists against his temples.

He was going to stay here as long as it took. He was in no hurry. He couldn’t leave. He needed to be here. If Shigeo wasn’t at home, then Teruki would wait.

God, he was crying. He was crying in public and that was not a look that anyone could pull off. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the tears away. He gripped at his hair, but the sting wasn’t helping either.

He hated this. Hated it so much. He just wanted to see Shigeo again. He wanted nothing more than to be at home right now, snuggled together watching stupid movies with Shigeo.

Teruki couldn’t stand the loneliness much longer.

He couldn’t go back to the way he’d been before.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

Teruki snapped his head up. Everything was kind of blurry before he rubbed the tears out of his eyes and with the clarity that brought, he had a good view of the rage etched deep onto the face of Kageyama Ritsu.

He looked furious. Ritsu’s knuckles were white from the strain he was putting on the strap of his bag. It looked like the only thing keeping him from throwing it at Teruki was that steely grip.

Teruki climbed to his feet, feeling unsteady.

“I,” he started and hated how weak his voice sounded. “I want to see Shigeo. Is he… not home?”

“You’ve got no business coming back here!” Ritsu barked. His voice cut like a knife, so sharp that it was going to get them both hurt. “Leave!”

Teruki had thought Ritsu was rude when they’d first met. That he’d been unnecessarily hostile. Now he learned that it’d only been a small part of what he was capable of. When Teruki made no move to leave, Ritsu took a halted step towards him, like he wanted to attack, but was actively holding himself back.

Oh yeah.

Over-protective brother type.

Teruki’s insides felt hollow.

“I need to talk to him,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I trusted you!” Ritsu shouted and threw his bag to the ground. “I thought you were going to be better than them! Better than Asagiri! I should’ve never let you get close to him!”

“I’m not like them!” Teruki shouted back, anger rising slowly but surely. “I’m nothing like them! It’s all a misunderstanding!”

“So it wasn’t a bet?” Ritsu asked, his tone mocking, his smile little more than a grimace. “So you just happened to get interested in my brother like that? You saw something you liked? He was a genuine person?”

“Yes!” Teruki shouted. “Yes! And yeah, it started out as a bet. I wasn’t the kind of a person back then who would’ve thought twice about someone like Shigeo, but I’ve – “

The fist landed squarely on his chin, knocking him back with surprising ferocity.

He’d seen angry brothers before. Guys protecting their sisters’ honor or whatever.

But whereas many of them had only shown half-hearted machismo, Kageyama Ritsu looked like he was planning on burying what would be left of him afterwards in the backyard, where no one would find him.

Teruki had no plans on being his punching bag, though.

The anger was something new. Something different. An unrelenting feeling of anxiety had been twisting and turning in his stomach since the day Shigeo had left him behind at the park, ebbing and flowing in its intensity. The anger hit like a tidal wave, drowning it out with its force.

For one, short moment, his head felt clear.

And all he wanted to do was punch something.

“You want to fight me?” he asked and laughed, spreading his arms wide. “Fine! It’s not like it’s going to make a difference! You never liked me and you never will. Let’s fight, then. I know you want to!”

Ritsu didn’t need to be told twice. The moment the last taunt was out of his mouth, he was on Teruki.

It wasn’t pretty. It was a brawl, nothing more, nothing less. Teruki pulled at Ritsu’s hair, Ritsu kicked him in the stomach. Teruki was fresh out of snarky things to say and all he wanted was to air out the miasma of feelings festering in his chest.

Ritsu landed a lucky hit right at the corner of his eye and Teruki fell against the Kageyama front door. He wasn’t one to take part in physical fights. He’d had other people for that. Ritsu didn’t seem like he got into fights that often either, but where he lacked practice, he covered it with enthusiasm. Teruki was sure there was more to come. Ritsu looked far from done. But before he could pull back enough to punch him again, someone called his name.

“Ritsu!”

Teruki’s eyes flew to the figure behind Ritsu. Shigeo hurried to his brother, grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him back.

“Ritsu,” he said, steady and dull. “Stop it.”

Ritsu gave a few half-hearted struggles and glared at the ground, but didn’t shake off his brother’s hold on him.

“Shigeo – “ Teruki started.

Shigeo let go of Ritsu and turned away. He was standing with his back to Teruki and it would’ve been a little childish had Teruki not felt like his entire heart was shattering into pieces.

What the hell was he doing? Fighting Ritsu? That was the last thing he should’ve been doing! This wasn’t clarity. It was just another kind of blindness.

“Shigeo, please,” he said, his voice weak even in his own ears. “I wanted to – Did you get my texts? I wanted to talk to you and explain. I – It’s all going to make sense, if you just let me explain.”

Shigeo shook his head wordlessly, refusing to look at him.

“Akemi is a dirty liar and she had no idea what she was talking about!” Teruki said, his words growing sharper, his hands shaking at his sides. “You can’t possibly believe a word she said. Over me? Shigeo, please –!”

Teruki saw him lift his hands to cover his ears and that was all he could see before Ritsu had stepped between them. He was staring at Teruki like he was the lowest of the low and Teruki’s heart dropped to the deepest pits of his stomach.

“I want you to leave me and my brother alone.”

It felt way worse than any of the punches Ritsu had managed to land. It felt like he’d just been disemboweled and left to die.

“No,” he said. “But I haven’t explained myself yet!”

“No. And you won’t. We’re done here.”

“You don’t get to talk for him!” Teruki shouted. “I won’t leave until I – “

“Hanazawa.”

Shigeo’s voice was pinched and tight. It nearly made Teruki choke on his words.

“I,” he struggled the word out. “Want you. To. Leave me and my brother alone.”

He still wasn’t looking at Teruki. He had his arms tight around his stomach and he was standing hunched.

It was so hard to get him to say what he really wanted. It was difficult for him. He’d said so himself.

He was being very clear now.

“P- please,” Teruki said, his voice breaking. “Shigeo, it wasn’t a – “

Ritsu stepped closer, his face stony.

“I think he’s made his point clear enough,” he said. “Do you not understand? Or are you choosing not to?”

“Ritsu,” Shigeo muttered, hunching down deeper. “Don’t.”

Teruki straightened his back with trouble. He pushed off the door, feeling like his legs were going to give out if he didn’t have something to lean against. But he couldn’t just keep on leaning against the Kageyama door.

It wasn’t going to open for him.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something to say that was going to fix this. Anything. But his head was ringing empty and it was clear he wasn’t welcome here.

Ritsu stepped closer to him and for a moment Teruki was sure he was going to deck him again. Instead he was simply shoved aside and Ritsu opened the front door. The moment he did, Shigeo was in through it without a backwards glance. Ritsu stood in the doorway a moment longer, staring down at Teruki, before closing the door with a devastatingly final thud.

Teruki felt like he was choking on the words he hadn’t been able to say.

So. This was his life now.

Teruki’s head rested on his table, cheek smushed against the wooden surface. In front of him, he had the Russian stacking doll, dismantled down to the smallest one. A neat little row of round, wooden figures. He pressed his forefinger over the head of the smallest one and rolled it around.

It was over then. No other ways about it. Shigeo had made his stance clear and knowing him, there wasn’t much Teruki could do about it. If nothing Teruki said was going to get through to him, there’d be no point in even trying.

He supposed he was done with happiness, then.

The smaller the dolls got, the less intricate their features were. The smallest, when Teruki picked it up between his thumb and forefinger, was barely a doll at all. It was just a small shape with two dots for eyes. Not even colors on it, just a small line for a mouth. It was a shapeless, featureless little thing, hiding under layers and layers of more complicated, better decorated shells.

But what was inside, in the end, was a small, insignificant blob, nothing special, nothing more than a carved piece of wood.

His mouth wobbled. He curled his fingers around the doll and considered throwing it. Out through the window. He’d never have to think about it again.

He choked on a sob.

It’d been a week now since the disastrous meeting in front of the Kageyama house.

Teruki was totally over it. He was living his best life. He had. So much more free time now that he wasn’t seeing anyone anymore. Or, well, he supposed he’d never really been seeing Shigeo. In a dating manner, that was.

He supposed he should go back to calling him Kageyama again. Since they weren’t really… anything anymore.

Which he would. Because he was so over it. He’d never be happy again and he’d accepted that. That was fine. Happiness was for losers and commoners anyway.

Teruki spent most of his free time watching romantic comedies and eating ice cream. Nothing better than to watch some brainless fun, right? Just like he would’ve done anyway. It had nothing to do with any possible heartbreaks he might’ve recently been through. Oh no, he was Hanazawa Teruki. He didn’t get dumped, he dumped people.

He was fine.

Who cared, if watching the people on screen fall in love and kiss made him feel miserable? It had nothing to do with anything. It just meant he needed more ice cream and happier endings. Who cared if it ended with him crying and slobbering over a half-melted pint of cookie dough while the characters on screen came together after a misunderstanding and made out in the setting sun?

…

…

…

Who was he trying to fool?

No one was going to buy it, least of all Teruki himself.

He was miserable and he couldn’t hide it.

He went through the pictures he had of Shigeo on his phone, thinking he was going to delete them. What good would they do to him at this point, after all? But instead of managing to delete any of them, he was struck by just how good Shigeo looked in all of them. Despite the fact that in most pictures, Teruki had caught him with closed eyes, or he’d moved at the exact wrong time, or the picture was fuzzy, despite all that, he looked good in all of them. Photogenic Shigeo might not have been, but Teruki found himself incapable of deleting a single picture.

He should’ve taken more. When he’d still had the time. Teruki just hadn’t realized back then that Shigeo was a non-renewable resource.

Going through the pictures, Teruki found the very first one he’d taken of him. Shigeo was sitting in the middle of a pile of clothes, a pill box hat on top of his head and a red jacket on his shoulders. He wasn’t looking at the camera. He hadn’t even known at the time that he was being photographed.

Teruki had taken that picture to make fun of him.

He’d shown it to his friends and they’d laughed at it.

God. He’d been such an asshole.

His finger hovered over the icon of the trashcan. It stayed there for a long while, until the screen went dark and he threw the phone on his bed.

He couldn’t even delete that one.

Teruki carried the misery with him like a shroud and he could tell it was affecting everyone else around him as well. Makoto and his friends were really understanding and nice about it now that Teruki had stopped snapping at them. He’d told them pieces of the story. Not nearly enough to give the full picture, but enough to get them to stop asking. They really tried to be there for him and maybe under better circumstances Teruki would’ve been grateful for it.

Now he just felt like they had no way of understanding just how big of a deal this was for him.

Out of his old cavalcade of friends, only Koichi attempted to approach him and Teruki was somewhat surprised to see that he came with an apology.

Too bad it was too little, too late.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, twisting his hands. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize you were serious about it. I thought you were still – “

“I told you I was serious about him!” Teruki shouted. “I told you!”

“I know!” Koichi said. “And it’s been ripping me up inside! I’m just so sorry about it. Did you two talk about it, or…?”

Teruki bared his teeth. Koichi must’ve seen they hadn’t. Teruki skulked around the hallways like the spirit of a freshly departed. He wasn’t wearing the mask of someone, who’d had a talk with their significant other and found that everything was okay again. He wasn’t wearing any masks at all and everyone could see just how miserable he was. He snarled at Koichi.

“He hates me now!” he shouted. “And it’s all your fault! You and Akemi!”

He’d never been one for petty threats or vocal fights in the public. He hadn’t seen the reason for them. They were all so embarrassing to witness. Yet here he was, spitting out venom, feeling like he was actually going to fistfight someone in the hallway.

The old Teruki would’ve been appalled.

The current one wasn’t thinking very clearly.

Makoto stepped between him and Koichi. He held his hands up and approached Teruki.

“He’s not worth it,” he said, his tone soft, but firm. He placed his hands on his shoulders. “It’s not worth the trouble.”

Teruki gave a half-hearted attempt and wrenching free, then stopped and stared at the floor. He could hear Koichi scurrying off like a little cockroach. Teruki bit his teeth together and stared holes into the linoleum.

“That’s good,” Makoto said. “You’re better off not fighting him. You made the right choice.”

Teruki couldn’t tell if he believed that or not. But his eyes were stinging, his breathing was harsh and light, and the last thing he wanted to do was cry at school.

It got a little easier with time. It did. The first week was the worst. His heart still leapt to his throat every time his phone buzzed. Every time, he was forced to go through the same motions of misplaced hope and eventual disappointment when he realized that no, Shigeo still hadn’t changed his mind.

It was never him. And it got a little easier to live with that in time.

The second week was a little better. Teruki knew what to expect by then. He started putting his phone on silent. He turned off the vibrations and forced himself to only check once an hour. It helped a little. Not at lot, but at least Teruki felt like he could sleep a little better. He didn’t wake up as often.

He slipped only once. On one lonely night, when the walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in on him, did he text Shigeo.

It was a short one. A simple one.

I’m sorry.

It’d changed from sent to read at 23:47 immediately and Teruki’s breath had caught in his throat.

There’d been no response.

The third week somehow felt worse than the first two.

The fourth one was a little better again.

He started spending more time with Makoto and his friends. Makoto liked to hold movie nights with his buddies, and yeah, most of the movies watched there were boring documentaries, but somehow Teruki found himself enjoying it. He actually ended up liking the one about fabric dyes. He started talking more with the guys. He still… didn’t remember anyone else’s name but Makoto’s, but he was sure to keep them in mind the next time he heard them.

No, he still wasn’t happy. No, he still wasn’t over it. The hope was something that was hard to quell and it kept climbing up his throat like an invasive ivy. Teruki didn’t want to fight it.

But he needed to move on.

He knew it wasn’t healthy to cling onto something like that.

So he continued his life. He went to school, spent time with Makoto and pals and he was fine.

It would’ve been a lot easier to move on, if Reigen Arataka hadn’t started to buy his groceries from the same store as him.

He hadn’t before, Teruki was pretty sure. Reigen wasn’t the type of a person you’d mistake someone else for. Had he been there before, Teruki was pretty sure he would’ve remembered it. Yet there he was, pushing a shopping cart with a single, lonely cabbage in it and turning his head to look around.

For one fraction of a second Teruki just considered turning around and walking away. Whatever this was, it was only going to end with him getting hurt. And frankly, that wasn’t something he wanted to take part in right now.

He took a moment too long to think about it, though. Reigen turned his head and spotted Teruki standing in the middle of the soup aisle, frozen still. Teruki was looking like a complete mess. He knew he was. He hadn’t bothered doing his hair before leaving the house. He hadn’t slept well for the last couple of nights and he’d just thrown something on without looking.

Now he looked like a very depressed scarecrow and Reigen still had nothing but smiles to offer him.

“Hey, kid!” Reigen called, lifting his hand into a wave.

He could still just duck his head and slip away. Pretend like he hadn’t seen Reigen at all.

Ah. But he was already approaching, with his meager findings in the cart.

Too late now, he supposed.

Teruki shifted with discomfort, switching his shopping basket from one hand to another.

“Oh,” he said, less than enthused. “Hi.”

God. He hadn’t washed his hair in two days. Reigen could just see how miserable he was, huh?

“How have you been, kid?” Reigen asked. “You getting enough to eat?”

“I’m… good,” Teruki said. “I’m good.”

“That’s good to hear! I can’t believe I just ran into you like this! What are the chances?”

Teruki would’ve said, that they weren’t very good. He thought better to keep his mouth shut, though.

Before Reigen could say anything more, Serizawa rounded the corner.

“I didn’t see him – Oh!” he squeaked. “H- Hi! Hanazawa!”

“Katsuya, look who I ran into!” Reigen said. “What a coincidence, huh?”

Serizawa started fumbling with his hands, looking at everywhere but Teruki.

“Ah,” he said. “Yes. Uhm. Coincidence.”

Right. Teruki grit his teeth together. He could see what was going on in here.

They’d come all this way to see the state he was in, huh? All this way to judge him and make fun of him.

Well, he’d have no part in it.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, tone icy with the politeness he was trying to force into it. “I was just on my way to pay for my purchases.”

“Of course, of course. So were we!”

Teruki gave a pointed look at the sad cabbage in their cart and Serizawa swallowed audibly. Reigen’s smile was unwavering.

They followed him to the cashier despite Teruki’s best attempts at being unwelcoming. He could tell Serizawa was picking up on his mood and it was making the man even more nervous than he usually was. Reigen, though, was wholly unaffected by Teruki’s dirty looks.

“You’re so responsible, doing all your shopping by yourself,” Reigen said. “It’s more than I could say about myself at that age! Mob tells me you live all by yourself. I hope you’re getting enough food.”

If he noticed how Teruki flinched at the mention of Shigeo and shrunk down afterwards, Reigen wasn’t showing it on the outside. Teruki breathed in, held it there for a moment, then breathed out and said nothing while he paid for the groceries.

He needed to make a quick exit.

He needed to leave, before he’d say something he’d regret.

Like, how was Shigeo? Had he mentioned Teruki? Had they talked about what had happened? Was he feeling any better now? Did he want to talk to Teruki? Did he miss Teruki as much as Teruki missed him?

The questions tried to force their way out of his mouth and all Teruki could do was clamp down twice as hard and speed-walk out of the market.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Behind him, he could hear Reigen say: “Do you mind taking this home, Katsuya? I feel like taking a little walk before dinner.”

God. Teruki squeezed his eyes shut. Could the man not read the mood he was giving?

Probably. He was just choosing to ignore it.

Whatever Serizawa responded to him, Teruki couldn’t hear it over the swoosh of the automatic doors. He was rushing to get out.

Reigen caught up to him soon enough.

“Going to the same direction?” he said, as if he wasn’t very blatantly just following Teruki.

Gritting his teeth, Teruki slowed down his march into a more comfortable speed and Reigen appeared next to him.

“I haven’t seen you around for a while,” he said.

Teruki gave him an unimpressed look.

“So you decided to start shopping at my grocery store?”

Reigen shrugged. “Pure coincidence.”

“Sure it is.”

Neither of them spoke for a while and the silence was awkward. Teruki could feel it all the way in his bones. The weight was heavy and inescapable. But he wasn’t going to be the first one to cut it. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. He had no idea what Reigen wanted out of him and he couldn’t risk revealing too much.

Reigen should’ve been mad. He should’ve been steaming at the ears for what Teruki had done. Yet he walked with a confident gait, with his hands in his pockets like all was right in the world.

Surely Shigeo had told him already. He must’ve. If Shigeo had acted at all like he had when Teruki had gone to his house, Reigen should’ve been able to tell that something was wrong from the first glance.

So why was he acting so friendly?

Reigen hummed and Teruki’s shoulders grew rigid. He hadn’t meant for them to do that. What he’d wanted to do was keep calm and exude confidence and indifference.

Instead he was twitching at the smallest of sounds.

He had to actively focus on relaxing. Teruki knew he was showing far too much through his actions. He needed a mask. He needed to –

“You like takoyaki?” Reigen asked.

Teruki shouldn’t have stopped. He shouldn’t have gasped. He should’ve just kept on walking like nothing at all was wrong. Instead, he turned to face Reigen and his well-meaning smile. His hands squeezed tight around the strap of the plastic bag.

“I,” he started and studied Reigen’s face. He was revealing nothing. All he had was a kind smile and an expectant look in his eyes and Teruki didn’t understand. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “I like it just fine. Why…?”

“Come on, kid,” Reigen said, turning and waving at him. “I know a place.”

Teruki shifted weight from one foot to another. He looked to the direction of his apartment building. It was close by. He still could’ve just turned around and walked away.

He still could’ve just left.

Teruki twisted his mouth and looked down. Ahead of him, Reigen wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t looking back as he walked, hands in his pockets and pace steady.

He probably wouldn’t have said a thing, if Teruki left. And Teruki doubted he’d be coming back to the same store.

He twisted his mouth.

Then, a moment later, he followed wordlessly after Reigen.

It was a nice day out. The fall was quickly turning colder day by day and there were hardly any leaves left in the trees. But the sky was clear and the weather was beautiful.

Teruki kind of wished he wasn’t looking like a greasy, blond rat right now. He burrowed deeper into his scarf and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He picked up his pace to catch up with Reigen.

Reigen sighed and smiled.

“I’m glad the weather cleared for today,” he said. “It’s been so grey lately, you know. It really brings the mood down. I can tell it’s affecting the office as well.”

Right. Because the weather was the only reason things were sour at the office, Teruki was sure. He stared at the ground.

“But I can see things clearing out in time,” Reigen continued without missing a beat. “They always do. It can’t always be sunny. But at the same time, the rain won’t last forever either.”

Teruki grimaced.

“What do you want, exactly?” he asked. “You can’t think I’m dumb enough to believe that you just happened to run into me out of the blue. You’ve never done that before.”

If Reigen noticed the sharpness of his tone, he didn’t let it show. He shrugged.

“Well, you caught me,” he said. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Times have been rough, I take it.”

Teruki ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. He bit his teeth together, trying to keep the words from surfacing. In the end, he was too weak, though.

“Did Shigeo ask you to talk to me?”

He hated it. He heated how pathetically hopeful he sounded. Reigen gave him a sideways glance and Teruki hated the pity there too.

“No,” he said. “No, he didn’t. But he is worried about you.”

“Clearly not worried enough to answer my texts!” Teruki spat out.

He stopped on his feet.

He…

He hadn’t meant to spill out that much venom through his voice. He snapped his mouth shut.

His old self was staring through the cracks of his façade. It had his stomach twisting.

Reigen tilted his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “You know, I’m something of a professional at listening. I’ll do it free of charge too!”

Teruki spared him a quick glance. Shame was constricting his throat.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I don’t know about that.” Reigen shrugged. “You’ve been through a lot lately, I hear. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Teruki squeezed his eyes shut.

“Well,” he forced out. “Clearly I’m doing great. So.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

“Hasn’t he told you enough already?”

He didn’t dare to look up at Reigen to see what his reaction would be. For a moment, there was nothing. Reigen was quiet and the silence was almost worse than any possible chiding might’ve been.

“We talk about many things with Mob during our sessions,” Reigen said slowly. “And I must admit, the subject of your relationship… has come up.”

Teruki clicked his tongue.

“I would be interested to hear your side of the story, though. I can see that you’re hurting, Hanazawa. It doesn’t seem like this has been meaningless to you either.”

“Of course it hasn’t!” he shouted. “I love him!”

The words escaped without his intention and Teruki choked on a gasp before slapping a hand over his mouth.

He hadn’t meant to say that. He was over this. The relationship was over. Desperately holding onto these emotions was like lugging a bag full of rocks with him. Pointless. Painful. Burdensome. He was over it. Or, at least, he was getting there. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling these feelings anymore, just like he wasn’t supposed to be checking his phone every five minutes. It would just get him hurt.

His breath was hitching in his throat and he couldn’t silence it even with both hands over his mouth.

“Let’s find a place to sit down.”

Reigen’s voice was kind. Teruki looked at him through the haze of unshed tears and tried to understand what he was seeing. Reigen was smiling and waving at him to follow. It didn’t look forced. Teruki would consider himself something of an expert in reading other people and Reigen looked nothing but genuine and caring.

His hands went from his mouth to his neck, squeezing a little.

Teruki couldn’t get a word out, so instead he just nodded and rubbed his eyes to the corner of his elbow. Reigen started walking again and Teruki followed after him, remaining a few steps behind while he tried to will the stinging out of his eyes.

Reigen led them to a lonely takoyaki stand. The man behind it brightened the moment he saw the two of them.

“Ah! Arataka! Welcome back. The usual?”

“Oh. Oh no, not this time. Katsuya is making dinner tonight. Hanazawa here just felt hungry and I told him I know the best takoyaki place in town.”

The seller beamed like the sun before turning to less than impressed Teruki. So he was going to have to pay for it himself? He shot Reigen a look, but the man had nothing but smiles to offer back at him. Grumbling to himself, Teruki bought a set of six and followed Reigen to a bench by the side of the road. He placed his groceries on the ground and took a seat.

At least the takoyaki were good.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Teruki chewed on his snacks and they watched cars drive by. People were on their way home after work, busy with their lives. All of them had someplace more important to be at. None of them had time to pay attention to a couple of nobodies sitting by the side of the road. They hurried past without a backwards glance.

Teruki would’ve been nothing but an afterthought to all of them.

He sighed and popped another doughball into his mouth. Next to him, Reigen ways saying nothing. He had his legs crossed, arms over the back of the bench. His attention was on the traffic, as if that was the most interesting thing in the world.

He seemed relaxed.

Teruki felt like he’d never been more tense in his life.

Why were they here? What had Reigen wanted out of him? Teruki gave him a glance from the corner of his eye.

He got the feeling that Reigen wouldn’t have complained if Teruki had kept his mouth shut for the rest of the snack break. If Teruki just ate his food and left, Reigen most likely wouldn’t say a thing about it. He worked with Shigeo. He must’ve grown used to long bouts of silence.

But he’d offered to hear what Teruki had to say.

Teruki stared at the road without really seeing it.

There’d be no point in him talking. There was nothing he could say that would change things. He’d learned that already. Reigen was only going to judge him anyway.

But…

He had said he would listen.

Teruki blew out a long sigh.

“It started as a bet, you know,” he said. “He told you that, right? It was a bet.”

Without missing a beat, Reigen nodded. “With your friends?” he asked.

“They’re not my friends.”

“But they were back then?”

He thought about it for a moment, watching the cars drive by.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if they were even back then. It wasn’t that kind of a relationship. We just existed on the same level on the social ladder.”

It was difficult to put it to words. Teruki realized that he didn’t really like the person he’d used to be. Even with all the things he’d used to tell himself to hype himself up, he hadn’t liked himself very much. And it’d been easier to transfer those feelings of self-loathing to other people. After all, if everyone else was terrible, that must’ve meant he couldn’t be that bad himself.

The cars drove by and the hum of their engines was somewhat comforting. To openness of the area they were sitting down in wasn’t.

Reigen shifted. He pulled his arms off the bench and gave a few absentminded pats on his breast pocket. He seemed to catch himself, though, and sat back against the bench again.

“Did you mean to tell Mob about the bet at any point?” he asked.

Teruki opened his mouth to say yes, but caught the lie before it could escape.

“…No,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to. It.” He considered it a moment. “It just… stopped being about the bet such a long time ago. I thought I could just forget about it and it would go away.”

Reigen hummed. “You know,” he said. “The way I see it, communication is the most important part of any relationship. Familial, platonic, romantic, it doesn’t matter. A healthy relationship can only be built around honest and open communication.”

Teruki pressed his hands against his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Shigeo said you talk about that stuff.” He bit his teeth together, then said: “I don’t know if I can do that, though.”

“Well, you’re doing great right now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t care what you think,” Teruki said. That… came out wrong. He sighed in frustration, refusing to lift his head to see if Reigen was disapproving or not. “I mean… When I’m around other people, I feel like I constantly have to put up these… these masks to fit in. To make sure that everyone gets the side of me that I want to show.”

“I think a lot of people do that,” Reigen said. “It’s a defense mechanism. We feel like we won’t be hurt, if it’s not the real us we’re projecting.” He was quiet for a beat. “But do you know when to take the mask off and be yourself?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I…” he started. “I don’t think I know what I’m supposed to be like.”

“Ah, well, that’s pretty common,” Reigen said. “You’re still building up your personality. You’re still young. You have time to decide what you want to be like. And, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Not all of us adults have that stuff figured out yet either.”

Teruki knew Reigen was trying to lighten the mood. He knew that he should’ve been above all the trickery. But at the same time, having Reigen talk in that light, reassuring tone of his, somehow made his insides feel a little less heavy.

He breathed in a long sigh.

“I think,” he started, with no small amount of hesitation, “that I liked the version of me I was… when I was with Shigeo.” He looked down at his hands. “I felt like I could be a kinder, better version of myself. I didn’t have to be so mean all the time. I didn’t… I didn’t constantly have to… pick apart my actions. Or his. I could just… You know? Be?”

Reigen hummed and nodded his head.

“I understand that you’ve had very poor experiences with friends in the past.”

“Yeah,” Teruki said. “That about sums it up.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. More cars passed them by, but there were less and less of them on the move as time ticked by. Teruki’s groceries were probably getting lukewarm. He finished the last of his takoyaki and held the empty container in his hands. There was a trashcan close by, but he didn’t feel like getting to his feet. He worried that if he did, the spell would be broken and this interaction over.

He didn’t’ like himself very much. He hadn’t for a very long time. But he did like the person he was, when he was with Shigeo. The Teruki he was with him was kinder. He was more understanding. He didn’t have to be mean, but if he ended up being so accidentally, Shigeo didn’t hesitate to remind him.

He didn’t want to be the old Teruki.

But what was the original Teruki like? Who was he, under all the masks he’d worn all these years? What was the smallest stacking doll at the very pits of his core like?

He wasn’t sure anymore.

“You know,” Reigen said at length. “We people are pretty interesting creatures. We build ourselves up every day. The choices we make, the people around us, the spaces we live in, all of them shape us to become who we are. It’s difficult to make changes knowingly. But realizing you want to change is the first step.”

Teruki thought about it for a moment. “I don’t like the person I was, when I was with… with my old friends,” he said quietly.

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Reigen said. “The people around us can have a great effect on us, even if we don’t realize it. Removing ourselves from the presence of the people in our lives that bring out the worst in us can help tremendously.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “It’s not always easy. I’m glad to hear you’ve managed to do so.”

Teruki sighed as well and stared at the sauce smudges on the container. “Yeah,” he said, letting the misery shine through. A lot of good that had done for him.

“Do you think you would’ve done things differently with Mob, if you’d known what was going to happen?”

He shot a look at Reigen.

“I mean,” he said. “Yeah.” He turned his attention back to his hands. “From the get-go. I would’ve ditched Akemi and everyone else a hell of a lot sooner.”

“Do you regret taking part in the bet, then?”

He thought about it for a moment. The answer should’ve been obvious. But… It wasn’t. Not at all.

“No,” he said at length. “I don’t.”

Reigen titled his head and lifted a brow. Teruki pushed his thumbs against the plastic of the container, bending it under the pressure.

“I wasn’t the kind of a person back then, who would’ve paid attention to Shigeo otherwise,” he said.

Reigen hummed and crossed his arms. He nodded his head a few times.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I wanted to hear your side of things, but now I’m even more sure.” He turned to look at Teruki. “I think you and Mob should talk about this face to face.”

Teruki’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“It’s clear to me that neither of you has gotten over this. I think it’d do both of you some good to talk it out.”

Teruki rubbed his thumbs over the sides of the container. He wanted to jump into agreeing with Reigen. Yes! He wanted to talk to Shigeo. But. He swallowed with struggle, then cleared his throat.

“I mean,” he started. “Are you… Are you sure?” He gave a look at Reigen’s way. When Reigen looked back, he turned his head so the man couldn’t see his expression. “I… No. No thank you. I can’t do that. Shigeo made it clear to me. He won’t…” He drew in a sigh through his nose. “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

Reigen tilted his head while he studied Teruki wordlessly.

“Well,” he said, “let me ask him, then. I’ll ask him to see if he’d be willing to arrange a counselling session with you.”

Teruki lifted his eyes and stared at Reigen. He looked serious about this.

“If he says no, then fine,” he continued, waving his hand about. “We’ll never speak of it again. But if he says yes, would you be willing to give it a try?”

For a moment, Teruki just stared at him, mouth left open.

“Would I –? Yes,” he said. “Yeah. If he just – If Shigeo says it’s – Yes. If you can arrange that, yes please.”

Reigen gave him a reassuring smile, then reached to pat his shoulder.

“Don’t stress it, kid,” he said. “We’ve been talking about it with Mob. I think it’d do you both good.”

Teruki wasn’t going to argue. Not when he was offered an opportunity on a silver platter. That wasn’t something he could afford to refuse.

Reigen patted his shoulder a few more times, then squeezed it tight. Sensing that the conversation was over, Teruki gathered his things. With his groceries in one hand, the food container in the other, he walked to the trash can. Behind him, Reigen got up and stretched his shoulders. Teruki could hear his back pop.

What was he supposed to do now? Was he supposed to thank the man? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he ought to just get going, go home and maybe cry about it a little.

That seemed like the most sensible thing to do right now. Without a word, Teruki turned around and started walking.

Reigen didn’t let him get far, though.

”Hey,” he said, stopping Teruki in his tracks. He dug around his pockets for a moment before drawing out a card. ”If you ever feel like you need to talk to an adult and there’s no one else you can think of, here’s my number. My work hours are from nine to five, but if you need to talk, just call me. Any time. Katsuya and I, we worry about you, you know?”

Inexplicably, Teruki felt like there was something stuck to his throat. He swallowed a few times, struggling to get the feeling to dissipate as he accepted the card.

”Thanks,” he said, his voice weak.

”Any time, kid.”

Chapter Text

Teruki’s nerves were strung tight when he arrived at the office. It was a calm and beautiful Saturday afternoon and he felt like he was going to sweat through his safety vest yellow turtleneck. Sitting down at the couches, his spine had been replaced with a steel rod and he had a chokehold on the plastic bag he’d brought with him. On top of that, he was developing a hefty headache from the strain he was putting on his neck and his lack of sleep from the night before wasn’t helping one bit.

Behind the receptionist’s desk, Serizawa kept throwing increasingly worried glances his way and Teruki would’ve rather he stopped. Serizawa had attempted to start a few awkward conversations about the weather, but Teruki had managed to singlehandedly kill them all with his one-word replies.

It was fine. Teruki was just a little early, that’s all. The plan had been to arrive ten minutes before the arranged time and exude confidence the whole way through. Instead, he’d gotten dressed up in record time. Teruki had been sitting on his bed, tapping his feet and grinding his teeth while he waited for the minutes to tick by.

So the plan had been adjusted accordingly. He’d decided that he was going to leave early and make a few rounds around the block before entering the office. That way he could dispel some of the stress still clinging to him.

But then Teruki had gotten out there and it’d rained a lot the night before, so there were puddles everywhere. The fear of a passing car splashing him and ruining his clothes, or stumbling over something to scrape himself on the asphalt or accidentally forgetting how time worked and being late had just gotten too strong. So Teruki had just ended up marching directly to the office, right into the elevator and into reception area.

And now he was here, wringing the handles of the plastic bag between his fingers and it was still half an hour until the meeting.

Teruki could hear soft murmurs from the office beyond the reception. The current client was loud enough to be heard through the thick walls, but not loud enough for Teruki to make out the words. It was slowly driving him mad. He wished everyone would just leave him alone and let him gather himself. But he’d already gone to the bathroom twice and he didn’t want Serizawa’s worried frown to grow any deeper.

He shifted on the couch and the worn, mint green pleather creaked under him. The plastic in his hands was warping from the way he was pulling at it, stretching under the abuse. If he didn’t stop soon, the handles would snap.

His hold grew only tighter.

Fifteen minutes left to their agreed meeting time, the door into the office blew wide open with enough force to hit the wall. A redheaded boy around his age burst through, then slid to a stop when he spotted Teruki. A look of mischief took over his eyes and he gave Teruki a sharp grin.

“Oh, you next? I haven’t seen you in here before,” he said. “Don’t believe a word that crock says. He’s a conman at best.”

Reigen laughed lightly, arriving in the doorway after the boy. “Ah, yes. Very funny, Shou. Off you go, then. You don’t want to make your mother worry.”

The redhead looked back at Reigen, then hurried out of the office with a quick: “See ya next week, Reigen! Serizawa!” before he slammed the door after him.

“You’re early,” Reigen said.

Teruki shifted. He tried and failed to pry off his hands from the plastic bag.

“I had… free time,” he said, not lifting his eyes from the floor.

“That’s alright,” Reigen said. “Hey. Katsuya? Did you offer him tea already?”

Behind the receptionist’s desk, Serizawa got up in a rush, kicking his knees against the desk with enough force to make the whole thing shake.

“I’ll go do that now,” he said.

“Make enough for all four of us, why won’t you?”

Reigen turned to back to Teruki. Teruki squirmed with discomfort under his light stare and tried to pretend like he couldn’t see it.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better.”

Yeah, well, he’d actually made sure to dress up this time. The turtleneck and plaid pants combo was a killer look and he knew it. He’d even made his hair this time, instead of appearing like a cryptid at the local market with shadows under his eyes and hair drooping.

He’d been getting more sleep lately as well, which might’ve played a part in his more put together look. Yeah, last night had been a real shitshow of tossing and turning, but at least he had a backup of a full week of good rest. He’d gotten back on his skin and hair care routine and he was glowing.

The nerves were just making it difficult to remember.

He felt like an absolute gremlin. The blue, starshaped sunglasses weren’t enough to hide that.

At least Reigen was kind enough to pretend like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Reigen craned his neck to see Serizawa making tea in the small kitchen area separated from the reception by a folding screen.

“Katsuya?” he called.

“Yes?”

“Make it chamomile, why won’t you? I think we could all use something calming today.”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence Teruki wasn’t ready to cut filled the office while the clock ticked on. Serizawa brought them four cups and Teruki finally had something else to hold onto. He kept the bag between his legs while he squeezed the teacup with bloodless fingers. There was a picture of smiley face on the cup and Teruki felt like it was making fun of him.

It was five minutes to the agreed upon time, when the front door opened.

When it was Kageyama Ritsu who appeared in the doorway, Teruki’s stomach dropped and he could taste bitter acid in his mouth. However, Ritsu only spared him a cold look before opening the door further to let his brother in.

Shigeo wasn’t looking at Teruki. To be fair, he wasn’t looking at anyone, instead choosing a spot somewhere near his shoes to stare at.

“Ah! If it isn’t Ritsu!” Reigen said, bright and polite. “It’s been a while. Good to see you.”

Ritsu threw a watered-down glare at him.

“For the record,” he said. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Shigeo’s hand shot forward and grabbed onto his shoulder.

“But,” Ritsu conceded, sounding like he was forcing the polite tone over his sharp words. “If it’s something brother wants to do, I’ll stand behind it.”

Teruki spotted a proud note to Reigen’s hum when he nodded.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. He turned to Shigeo. “Mob. Would you like your brother to come with us to the session?”

Teruki bit down on his tongue to keep from arguing. He didn’t need an audience. He didn’t want Reigen to be there either! He would’ve just wanted to have a talk with Shigeo and then everything would be fine again. The judgment of others wasn’t something Teruki needed in his life right now.

But.

If this was something that was going to make Shigeo feel more comfortable around him… If this was what it took to have him talk to Teruki again, then he would’ve invited the whole family there. Everyone was welcome!

As long as it meant Teruki still had a chance.

Shigeo thought about it for a long moment. Then, slowly, he shook his head. He gave one last squeeze on Ritsu’s shoulder before moving past him. Ritsu’s look soured and he crossed his arms, but said nothing.

“I’ll be right here, if you need me,” he said, walking to the couches. Serizawa, who had disappeared to make another batch of tea offered him a cup and Ritsu gave a strained smile before turning back to his brother. “Just call me. I’ll come over.”

Shigeo nodded wordlessly.

“Alright,” Reigen said, rubbing his hands together and opening the door to his office. “Let’s get started then, why won’t we?”

The moment the door was open, Shigeo had disappeared through it. Teruki was a little slower to follow. He shot one last look over his shoulder to where Ritsu and Serizawa were sitting and Ritsu gave a glare so cold he could feel it all the way in his bones.

Teruki met his glare with a steady look of his own, refusing to be the one to look away first. Ritsu grimaced and squeezed his hands tight around the cup. He turned away, gritting his teeth.

Teruki hadn’t realized it would hurt to break Ritsu’s trust too.

It hadn’t been easy to build that one either.

At least Ritsu no longer looked like he was planning cold-blooded murder, though.

Reigen closed the door behind him and moved to walk deeper into the office. Teruki sighed and turned around.

The inner office itself wasn’t all that spacious. Reigen had a small desk in front of a window, with a computer and a couple of house plants on it. There were a couple of couches near the wall as well, but right in the middle of the room, there was a wide, wooden table, with six chairs around it. Shigeo had already taken a seat by the far end of it. He was sitting hunched near the corner and in his hands was a tiny rock.

Teruki realized with a start that it was the rock he’d given him after the eye-opening beach trip.

An emotion he couldn’t recognize clogged his throat, making it hard to breathe. Teruki swallowed down a few times. If Shigeo was still holding onto the rock, then did that mean…?

Did it mean anything?

Could it?

His chest ached and he squeezed his free hand over his heart, clutching at the neon green fabric of his shirt.

“Why don’t we all have a seat?”

With some struggle, Teruki turned his attention away from Shigeo to Reigen, who had drawn a chair for himself from the other side of the table. Whereas Shigeo had chosen the corner spot, Reigen was sitting right in the middle. He’d brought the tray with the fresh cups of tea with him and placed it in the middle of the table for everyone to reach. Shigeo payed it no mind, focusing on turning the rock in his hands instead.

Teruki inched closer. He wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit. There was a free spot next to Shigeo. But he’d so clearly chosen the seat furthest away from everyone else. He was sitting as far away as he could.

The idea of sitting next to him felt like betrayal. Shigeo might not have been good at saying what he did or didn’t want, but his unspoken actions were loud enough.

Teruki drew himself a chair from the other corner and sat down. The empty seat between them felt like a cavernous sinkhole neither of them could safely cross. Teruki dropped the bag to the floor between his feet and sat down. After a moment of hesitation, he took another cup from the tray and started to sip it just to have something to keep him occupied.

“So nice of you to join us today, Hanazawa,” Reigen said. He offered Teruki an encouraging smile, but it didn’t do much to quell the twisting in Teruki’s guts. “Since it’s Hanazawa’s first time, I’d like to go over the rules together.” Reigen spread his arms, waving at the office around them. “This room is meant for communication. And that means both talking, and letting others talk. Okay?” He gave a pointed look at them both. “We’re here to share our honest feelings. And an important part of sharing is listening to what the other has to say. So to make that easier, when one of us is talking, the others will listen and let him speak his mind until he is done. And only then may others talk. If we can’t follow that rule, we’re going to have to call off this meeting. Do we all understand that?”

It sounded kind of juvenile. Teruki crossed his arms and hunched down. From the corner of his eye, he could see Shigeo nodding.

“Hanazawa?” Reigen prompted.

“Yes,” he said tersely. “I understand.” It wasn’t like it was that hard of a rule to follow.

“Great. Now, would you like to start by telling us what has happened?”

He straightened his back at the sudden prompt. Both Reigen and Shigeo were now paying attention to him. Shigeo might not have been looking at him, but the presence of his attention weighed heavy on Teruki’s shoulders all the same. He swallowed and opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

He snapped it right back shut. When he gave a fleeting glance at Shigeo next to him, he was sitting slouched and spinning the rock between his thumb and forefinger.

Teruki drew in a sharp breath.

“Um,” he said. “Where should I… start?”

“Wherever you feel like it’s most natural to you,” Reigen said, waving his hand at his direction.

“Well,” Teruki said, stalling for time. What could he say? What was going to fix this? “I… I thought things had been going great. Because. Well. I mean, we all know how this started. I met Shi- Kageyama maybe half a year ago.” His voice trembled a little, but he was gaining confidence. “And we were doing fine, I thought. We met at this park and we were making out when these two extras barged in and ruined the whole thing.” That’s right. This wasn’t his fault, it was Akemi and Koichi’s. And… and Shigeo’s too. “They were spouting out complete lies and Kageyama bought it, even though I’d shown nothing but growth of character for the last couple of months. And it really hurt, because I’d been showing my best sides and he still didn’t want to listen to me.”

Next to him, Shigeo said nothing.

The words stalled in his mouth and he stuttered for a moment.

“I – I mean,” he said, suddenly feeling panic gripping at his chest. He wasn’t doing this right. A mask. He needed a better mask! “I thought… I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I’ve changed! A lot! And, and, and I told you, I’m not spending time with those people anymore! I told you that ages ago! I’ve told you what type of a person Akemi is and you still took her word over mine!”

Oh no. He needed to shut up. He needed to rein it in. But the accusations kept spilling out of his mouth.

He’d thought he’d proven himself already. Over and over again. And still, Shigeo had taken the word of someone like Akemi over his.

It was like he’d been looking for a reason not to trust him.

Shigeo said nothing, just stared holes into the table.

Teruki opened his mouth again, but Reigen beat him to it.

“Now, Hanazawa,” he said. “There’s no call for accusatory language. I understand you’re feeling hurt, but let’s try to keep things constructive for now, why don’t we?”

Teruki bit his teeth together. He was supposed to be better than this. He wasn’t supposed to be losing his composure. But the longer Shigeo refused to look at him, the larger the empty pit between them seemed to grow. And he would’ve loved nothing more than to fill that void with his own voice.

He blew out a big sigh and it came out trembling. He crossed his arms over his chest, but it didn’t stop the shaking that was rattling in it. To hide it, Teruki slouched down against the chair, burrowing between his own shoulders. He was exuding defensive behavior and it was a clear sign of weakness.

It was better than the alternative, though.

And still, Shigeo said nothing.

“I…” Teruki said. “I guess I just…” He didn’t know what he was supposed to be saying. So, instead, he took a cup and drank deeply.

Reigen turned his attention to Shigeo. “Mob,” he called softly. “How is all of this making you feel? How does it feel to hear Hanazawa say these things?”

Oh no. Oh God. He’d been too sharp. He’d spoken too harshly. Teruki mouth twisted. He knew better. He should’ve known better.

Shigeo moved his hand so he was squeezing the rock in his fist. His attention seemed to be fully on the rock rather than either of them. It was clear that the situation was making him uncomfortable and in response he’d withdrawn completely.

He might not even have been listening at this point.

No. Teruki knew him better. He very clearly was. There was a strain to his shoulders and he’d taken every word Teruki had said to heart.

He shouldn’t have spoken so harshly.

He knew it wasn’t easy for him either.

“It’s okay,” Reigen said. “Take your time. We have all the time in the world.”

All the time in the world within the hour they’d booked.

“I’m sorry,” Teruki blurted out. “I – I should’ve – It’s just that, I thought that since things were going so well, we wouldn’t have to talk about the whole bet thing – ”

At the mention of the bet, Shigeo’s shoulders hunched down further and he looked like he was actively shrinking down in hopes to disappear under the table.

“This bet,” Reigen said, turning his eyes away from Shigeo for the moment. “Would you like to tell us more about it? I’m sure we’d all want to hear it. Maybe it would clarify things further.”

“I,” Teruki said. “It was… It was stupid. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Reigen gave him a very pointed look. Teruki swallowed with some struggle, watching the man turn his attention back to Shigeo.

“How do you feel about this, Mob?” he asked instead. “Do you agree with Teruki that it no longer matters?”

Why did it sound so much worse, when Reigen asked it? He was clearly saying it wrong. The inflections in his voice weren’t right, making it sound colder and crueler than it should’ve.

When Shigeo said nothing, Teruki bristled.

“Well, clearly!” he said. “It was, like, half a year ago, and – “

“Hanazawa,” Reigen said, and his voice sharp. “Please allow Mob to answer for himself.”

Teruki clamped his mouth shut and turned to stare at Shigeo. He was holding the rock against his chest now, knuckles bloodless around it.

“I think,” he started, his voice small and without inflection, “that I don’t. Agree. With Hanazawa.”

“Why is that?”

“It doesn’t. Feel.” His fingers twitched around the rock. “Meaningless.”

“If it doesn’t feel meaningless to you, then how does it make you feel?”

Shigeo stared at the table for a long moment.

“Bad.”

Reigen nodded. “It’s good to try to put those emotions to words. Otherwise it can be hard to get them out. Would you like to talk to Hanazawa about what you told me the last time you were here?”

Shigeo hummed. His expression was pinched, brows pushing down past his fringe. He twisted his mouth and shifted on his chair, but said nothing.

Teruki couldn’t take this any longer. It was taking too long and his heart was choking him, beating all the way up in his throat.

“Okay!” he cried out, making both Shigeo and Reigen jump a little. “Yes! It was for a bet. But just at the beginning! It was all Akemi’s idea anyway! She – We were talking, and she suggested it. And she’s the one who chose Shigeo. But! I realized, like, right away that this was way bigger than just some stupid bet and that’s why it was no longer relevant! I’d told them! I’d told Akemi and Koichi and everyone that I was no longer in their group. They shouldn’t even have been there that day!”

It wasn’t helping. The more he talked, the lower Shigeo was hunching himself and Teruki couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working!

“Hanazawa,” Reigen said, his voice kind but firm. “Shigeo listened to you, when it was your turn to talk. Will you not give him the same courtesy?”

“I – “ he started to argue, then swallowed his words. Reigen was right. Of course he was. “Yes,” he said, his voice small. “I just… I wanted to explain. But yes. Of course. Sorry.”

He wished Shigeo would’ve just looked at him. That he would’ve lifted his attention away from that stupid rock. He felt like he was about to crack.

“Take your time, Mob,” Reigen said. “We don’t have to talk, if you’d prefer. It was already a big decision to come all this way here. If you want, we can stop here and continue on some other day.”

What? No! They couldn’t do that! Teruki looked between Reigen and Shigeo and his desperation must’ve shone brighter than a fog light, because Reigen lifted his hands in placating manner.

Shigeo was yet to say anything to it. Teruki tried to relax, but it wasn’t working out how he would’ve wanted.

“I think,” Shigeo started, uncurling his fingers from around the rock so he could spin it again. “I want to talk too.”

Reigen nodded. “Of course,” he said.

“I,” he said and kept spinning the rock. Around and around it went, squeezed tight between his thumb and forefinger. “Um. It’s.” He blew out a harsh sigh through his nose. “It’s. I knew Teruki wasn’t being honest with me. But I. Thought. It was going to be fine. That he wasn’t going to be like. Mm.”

“We don’t have to talk about Asagiri today, if you don’t want to,” Reigen said.

Shigeo shook his head from side to side.

“I just. Didn’t think. That Hanazawa would do something like that. He’s not the kindest person, but he’s nice with me. I didn’t understand why. But if it was for a bet – “

“At first!” Teruki cried out. “It wasn’t about that anymore!”

“Hanazawa,” Reigen said, sharper this time.

Finally, Shigeo lifted his eyes and they landed on Teruki for the first time that day. He peeked at Teruki from under his fringe and the closed off look there was like a slap to the face. Teruki drew in a breath through his teeth.

This was his chance.

“Shigeo,” he said. “I like you. So much. And. I like the person I am, when I’m with you. And. I. I want you to feel comfortable too. So. Please. I’m sorry. I can fix this.”

His expression didn’t change.

“I don’t know,” Shigeo said slowly. “You’re so good with people. You can get along with anyone. Even Ritsu.”

“Yes, but I don’t care about them, I care about you!”

Shigeo shook his head, his eyes empty.

“I don’t know if I can believe a word you say.”

“Of course you can!” Teruki said forcefully. “When have I been anything but honest with you?”

Shigeo pulled back, turning his look away.

“I- I mean besides that time.”

“But you do lie,” Shigeo said, frowning at his lap. His fingers curled around the rock again, dull nails digging into his skin. “All the time. About little things. And when we first met. You were.” He blinked a few times. “You said so yourself. It’s a mask. You wear a mask so that people like you. You’re like the doll.”

“I told you I don’t wear a mask around you!”

“But. That was a lie, though. Wasn’t it?”

“No! ” Well. Maybe a little. He’d given honesty, but only pieces of it. “I didn’t – “

“Hanazawa,” Reigen warned him. “You have to allow Shigeo to talk. Listen to what he says and gather your thoughts. Otherwise I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He couldn’t leave. Teruki wouldn’t. He clamped his teeth over his tongue.

They were judging him. Both of them. Shigeo had seen through him and seen he was rotten inside and he couldn’t fix this. He needed a mask! He was a better person now and neither of them were seeing it!

His fingers curled around his chest, pulling at the shirt.

They were judging him.

“Ritsu told me I should be careful,” Shigeo said more to himself than either of them. “But Reigen… Reigen said that I should listen to my own judgement.” He was quiet for a beat. “Then Hanazawa said that he wasn’t a friend with me for a joke.” Then, very quietly, he muttered: “I guess that was a lie too.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Hanazawa.”

“It’s not true! ” he cried out, jumping off his chair. His eyes were stinging. “Why aren’t you listening to me? It’s not true! I – I’m not like that anymore!”

His words weren’t connecting. Shigeo was staring at his lap with unseeing eyes, like he wasn’t even listening anymore, and that hurt more than anything else. He fell back on the chair, all air leaving his lungs, like someone had popped them like a pair of balloons.

Reigen sighed.

“Allow me to cut in here?” he said.

Neither of them said anything, so he continued.

“Hanazawa,” he said. “I understand that this hurts. Neither of you are familiar to these kinds of relationships and they are complicated. Mob has told me that the two of you grew very close and he has confided in me that he enjoys having conversations with you, because he likes listening to you. But he also tells me, that you’re willing to listen to him, when most people brush him off.” Reigen placed his hands on the table in front of him, fingers held together. “And we need you to practice this now. It’s not as easy for everyone to communicate and it’s not easy to listen, when you feel like you’re personally being criticized. However, if you two wish to move on, this is important.” He was quiet for a beat. “But,” he said, “neither of you is really listening to the other right now. And that is a problem.”

Teruki gave a fleeting glance at Shigeo. He was watching Reigen carefully.

Reigen pushed his chair back and stood up, moving to the window. Holding his hands behind his back, he sighed.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. To build a better relationship, we need to communicate. And it can be heard. Sometimes we say things that we don’t mean, sometimes others find different meanings to what we said. The important thing that many of us forget to do is listen.” He turned to face them. “And right now neither of you wants to hear what the other is saying. So it might be better, if we call it off for today.”

Next to him, Shigeo’s head snapped up and his mouth fell open.

“But – “ Teruki started.

Reigen lifted a hand.

“I understand that you are hurt,” he said. “Both of you. And even if the reasons might’ve come from a misunderstanding, the pain is no less real. Our past often paints the experiences of our current lives and it’s important to recognize that.” Reigen moved back to the table and sat down. He reached for a cup of already cool tea and took a sip. “You, Hanazawa. Why do you feel this situation so threatening?”

“Threatening?” he repeated. “I don’t – “

But he did. He snapped his mouth shut and glared at the table.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice weak. “It’s jus. I… I didn’t… I feel like I’m being judged. And it makes… It makes me feel… terrible. I feel like people are constantly judging me and I have to put up a front to be like I’m expected. If I don’t, people are going to leave me and I’ll… end up all alone.”

Reigen hummed.

“Why do you feel that is?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Teruki chuckled joylessly. “Could have something to do with the fact that my parents left.”

He’d meant it to be a joke, but it came out sounding much closer to the truth than he would’ve liked.

“What about you, Mob?” Reigen said. “You’ve been withdrawn this whole time. Do you not feel comfortable with this after all?”

Next to Teruki, Shigeo shifted. He held the rock on an open palm and ran a finger over it. He traced the now nearly invisible red lines with his thumb, lips pursed together tight.

“Do you want to stop for the day?” Reigen asked softly.

For a moment, there was nothing. Teruki’s breath caught in his throat. He knew. He knew that if they didn’t find a solution for this now, he couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t. Coming here again, surviving this stress, he couldn’t do it.

Shigeo thought about it for a long moment, then, slowly, he shook his head.

“You want us to keep going?” Reigen clarified.

He nodded.

Reigen smiled, then turned to Teruki.

“Then how about we change tactics here a little,” he said. “Perhaps it would be easier for you, if you got to ask a question, Hanazawa.”

Teruki looked from Reigen to Shigeo.

“Me?”

“Yes. What is something you’d like to ask Mob? The topic is yours to choose.”

What was something he wanted to ask? Teruki opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it slowly.

He wasn’t sure.

If he had just one question, what would it be?

There were so many things. Did Shigeo even like him anymore? He must have, why else would he have agreed to this? He still held onto the rock, so he must’ve cared at least a little. Why had he not let Teruki explain himself? Why was he not responding to his texts? Why had he cut himself out of Teruki’s life like nothing? Did he even care? Had he ever?

But all those were petty, shallow questions.

What he really wanted to know was why?

“I know… I’ve been dishonest,” he said slowly. “And I know that when we first met, I was more so. But. The more I learned about you, Shigeo and the more I felt I could trust you, the more I learned to open up and… and be myself around you. And… at the same time, I started to care about you. I didn’t mean to at first, I wasn’t… I wasn’t that kind of a person. But I did. I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me.” He curled his fingers into fists and rested them against his thighs, breathing in deep. “The reason I never brought up the bet was that, yes, I didn’t think it was relevant anymore, but I also didn’t want… I didn’t want you to find out.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I… I didn’t want you to think that poorly of me. I wanted to be a good person in your eyes. And. And I wanted to be better. I felt like I already was.” He drew in another breath, but it shuddered in his chest, rattling him deep. “But. I thought – I really thought, that I’d proven to you, that I was better than that.” He lifted his eyes, looking right into Shigeo’s. The contact made him jump a little. Shigeo must’ve seen the shine of unshed tears there. Teruki didn’t have it in him to try to hide it. “It was like… you were waiting for a reason not to trust me.” He held his breath. “I know I did wrong and I should’ve talked to you about it. But. But why? Why can you not trust me in this?”

Shigeo met his eyes, even though it looked to be a challenge for him. And for that, for one second, Teruki thought they could fix this.

But then Shigeo looked away and he shut down again, pulling right back into himself and disappearing. All that was left behind was his empty shell.

Teruki’s shoulders dropped even before he had his response.

“I can’t trust you,” Shigeo said, as if that was going to explain anything.

Teruki’s face crumpled and he had to hide it away behind his hands to keep the others from seeing it.

There it was, then. The last verdict. He gasped for breath.

There’d been no point in coming all this way.

It would’ve never worked. He’d known they were two completely different people and that they weren’t going to get along. But whereas in the beginning he’d thought it was because he was so far out of Shigeo’s league that the two of them just couldn’t work, now he knew better.

It was the complete opposite. Teruki was the one, who had no right to try to reach for someone like Shigeo. He wasn’t a good person. He’d never been and…

And he was going to have to try harder to be one.

Away from Shigeo.

Shigeo didn’t deserve this half-formed person he was right now. No one did. Not even Teruki. He couldn’t rely solely on one person to build his entire personality.

He needed to be better for himself, first and foremost.

Only then could he even begin to be better for others.

He’d already taken the first steps.

Teruki bit back tears. He needed to pull himself together. He could cry at home, away from prying eyes. For now, he needed to be better.

“It’s,” he said, rubbing his eyes to the corner of his sleeve. “Okay. I get that. If that’s. What you want. Then that’s it.”

Shigeo was staring at him. He could feel it. But for now, he couldn’t face him.

If he was being quite honest with himself, he’d had a feeling this was how it was going to end. That’s why he’d come prepared. Teruki reached for the plastic bag under his chair and pulled it on the table. On the other side, Reigen tilted his head. Teruki could see him opening his mouth to say something, but closing it right after.

“I… want you to have this,” Teruki said, his voice subdued and stuffy from the trembling he was trying to keep out of it. “It’s. I don’t know. I can’t imagine wearing this without you. So.”

It was the sweater. The teal one. The one that felt so soft to the touch.

Shigeo said nothing for a while and Teruki didn’t have the courage to look up. Whatever emotion he was wearing right now, Teruki knew he couldn’t take it. The moment he’d see it, he’d break down. So instead, he slid the bag over the table to him.

The bag rustled. Teruki turned just enough to see Shigeo reaching in, but when his fingers brushed the fabric inside, he pulled them back out as if burned.

“No,” he said. “I can’t.”

It felt like being rejected all over again. Teruki swallowed down tears.

“It’s okay,” he said, willing his voice not to break. “I d- don’t want it anymore. And. You liked it. It’s soft, right? So.” He steadied his breathing for a moment. “It looks way better on you anyway.”

Shigeo opened his mouth, then closed it.

“It’s yours,” Teruki said, pushing the bag closer to him. “I… I don’t think I could look at it anymore. Too many memories, you know? If you don’t want it, give it to a friend or something. It’s… it’s fine. It’s fine.”

God, it didn’t feel fine. Teruki’s throat was growing tight and he was sure if they couldn’t end this conversation soon, it was going to end with him crying on the floor. Which. He would’ve rather been doing that at home. He brushed his hand over his throat.

He wanted to be done with this.

But Shigeo was staring at him. And as long as Shigeo was looking at him, he couldn’t move. He knew, that as long as he’d have his attention, Teruki would stay right here, drinking it in. Even through the misery, he would stay here until Shigeo said they were done.

And once he’d say they were done, they’d really be done. Teruki ought to delete his number from his phone and… and delete all the pictures he had of them. He was probably going to end up throwing away bunch of his clothes too. He didn’t want to look into his closet and remember all the times he and Shigeo had spent going through it.

God. He’d have to throw away the holographic jacket too, huh?

As if this couldn’t get any worse.

He swallowed with struggle and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’re sad,” Shigeo said, as if it was a great revelation he’d just had.

A broken sob escaped Teruki’s throat before he could disguise it as a chuckle. He turned away and pressed his palm against his throat to keep any further frogs from jumping out.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, with all the believability of a person already crying.

“You’re lying.”

The next sob was far more severe. He covered his eyes next, as if that was going to help hide the evidence any better.

“I’m not,” he whispered.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Teruki heard Shigeo’s chair creaking against the floor.

A moment later, he heard the door and broke down crying.

It was over, then. They were done. And what a wondrous flight it had been. Like a falling star, it’d burnt beautifully when it flew across the sky. But like things like that tended to go, once it had reached the ground, it was nothing more than a formless lump of metal and stone. Meteorites didn’t get to fly again.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, when the chair next to his was moved. He lifted his head to see Shigeo sitting down next to him, with the sweater in his hands. Teruki looked around in confusion only to see that Reigen had left the room.

Shigeo petted the sweater with calm, even strokes.

“You’re not a very good liar,” he said.

Teruki’s mouth fell open, but for a moment he couldn’t find his voice. Shigeo reached into his pocket and dug out a packet of tissues. He offered it to Teruki wordlessly and Teruki took one, turning away to blow his nose.

He still sounded off, when he spoke. “You’re not giving me enough credit,” he muttered.

Shigeo was quiet for a moment. “No,” he said. “I mean… Sometimes you’re very good at hiding how you really feel. And I have to second-guess everything you say. But sometimes… Sometimes, you’re very transparent.”

Teruki chuckled and this time it actually sounded a little closer to what it was supposed to. He blew his nose again, then tapped the dry corner of the tissue to his eyes. “You’d be surprised,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve been hiding my true feelings from my friends for years now!”

Although, maybe that wasn’t quite right either. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding his feelings as he’d thought. They’d just morphed into other emotions that were easier to explain. He’d been feeling cornered and that had made him angry. And it was easier to be angry than to try to explain why he felt like he was drowning while talking with them.

His friends had picked up on his pissed off moods. Because those had been the only ones he’d been able to show through the layers upon layers of self-hate. They’d noticed him getting angry and indignant and poked fun at him for it. And he’d done the same to them.

When had any of them ever felt anything other than the slowly boiling seething inside?

Shigeo was playing with the sleeve of the sweater, twisting it between his fingers and running his hands over it.

Teruki would’ve so much rather he’d played with his fingers instead.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked and looked up at Teruki.

The immediate response was to lie. To cover up for the shame he was showing on his face. He was sure that if he could just pull up the right mask, he’d be able to will away the tears and bright back a more well-rounded version of himself.

He was also aware that the moment he’d do that, he’d lose Shigeo for good.

He hated this. He hated it so much. The vulnerability. The fear of ridicule.

Teruki gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

And then, a hand landed on his.

He looked up. Shigeo’s expression hadn’t shifted. It was still morose and empty. The situation was still uncomfortable for him, too.

“Teruki,” he said. “Please.”

A short, choked out sob escaped him and he looked down at the hand on his.

“I feel like shit,” he croaked. “And I miss you so much.” But it wasn’t quite enough, was it? “I didn’t realize how much I hated my life and how much I was embarrassed to be myself before I met you. I was just fine with the idea of coasting along and lying to myself if that meant I could stay at the top of the food chain. But.” He closed his eyes and sniffled. “When I was with you, I started to realize how little most people actually care about all that. And how much nicer it’s to live without getting so hung up on what other people will think about you all the time.”

He placed his free hand on Shigeo’s. He didn’t pull away. It felt like an anchor on a turbulent sea.

“I’m really sorry about all this. I really am.” He drew in a breath, steeling himself to say what needed to be said. “But I understand if you feel like you can no longer trust me. I… I get it. I wasn’t. I was a pretty shitty person, when I first met you. And I’m going to do better. But. I’d like to do that with you there with me, if… if at all possible.”

Shigeo hummed quietly. The hand on Teruki’s curled a little, twisting so his fingers slotted between his.

“I’m sorry too,” he said. “I… I know you’re trying. I know you are. And I’m really proud of you for that.”

Teruki choked on another sob, trying to swallow it down so Shigeo wouldn’t stop talking.

“I… I keep comparing people to someone, who hurt me in the past,” he said. “And it’s not fair for you. You just. Sometimes remind me so much of her.”

Teruki didn’t know what to say. There was still so much he didn’t know. He squeezed Shigeo’s hand tighter. If it was going to be the last time, he was going to take everything being given to him.

Shigeo tilted his head and studied him. Teruki looked right back, trying to look as open as he could.

Shigeo hummed and closed his eyes.

“I missed you too,” he said.

Teruki threw his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Shigeo froze in his hold, going rigid and Teruki released him immediately, starting to pull back. He didn’t get far, though, before Shigeo had dropped his head to rest against his shoulder. His hands came around him slowly, fingers curling into the material of Teruki’s shirt.

Shigeo let out a long sigh before going completely boneless in his hold. Teruki let out a startled yelp and held him tighter. The last thing he wanted to do right now was drop him.

He was holding something very precious to him.

Shigeo shifted, turning his head. He looked tired all the way to the bone and Teruki couldn’t blame him for it. Had he not been holding Shigeo upright right now, he might’ve fallen off his chair himself.

“God,” Teruki muttered. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

Shigeo closed his eyes and hummed.

“I think I’d like that.”

A moment later, the office door opened quietly behind them. Teruki could hear Reigen say: “Oh! Looks like they’re still busy in there. Let’s give them a moment.” Teruki didn’t have enough energy to turn to look at him.

All he wanted to focus on right now was Shigeo.

Shifting a little, Shigeo rested his head back against his shoulder.

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled.

Teruki wasn’t sure if he was laughing or crying, but what he did know was that he wasn’t planning on letting go of Shigeo any time soon.

“What about this one?” Teruki asked, holding the cat plushie out for Shige to see. It was a wonky little thing, with its paws sown on crooked so that the ones on the left were further apart from each other than the ones on the right, and the back-left paw was slightly shorter than the other three. Also, the thing had a wall-eyed look that made it look demented.

Shigeo’s eyes grew larger and he held out his free hand towards Teruki. He ran his fingers over the soft strands of its fur, a transfixed look on his face.

“It’s perfect,” he said quietly. “…But…” He looked at the other plushie, already in his hand. It had uneven fur and a lopsided grin. One of its ears had been sown backwards.

They’d been at the toy store for half an hour now and Shigeo must’ve gone through every single cat plushie they had in the place. Since it was their one-year anniversary, Teruki had considered it his solemn duty to finally deliver on his promise to get Shigeo a cat plushie. Afterall, they couldn’t get a real cat before they moved to live together. So a plushie it had to be for now. Shigeo’s room still needed a splash more personality and Teruki was going to help, whether his input was requested or not. The plushie was just going to be the first touch. He was already looking into his options about better curtains to liven up the place. The biggest obstacle currently was Shigeo’s mother, who didn’t seem to share her son’s impeccable eye for patterns.

Well. Not everyone could be perfect.

Teruki tilted his head as Shigeo considered the two plushies. Neither of them looked like they were going to fly off the shelves of the store. A smile kept tugging at his lips and he let it spread wide as he lifted his hands into a shrug.

“You know,” he said. “A plus side to having a rich boyfriend is that said boyfriend can afford to buy two cat plushies.”

Shigeo stared at him for a moment. When the thought connected, his face melted into the warmest smile and hell, Teruki would’ve bought every last cat plushie in the establishment to make sure that it never faded.

When they left the little shop, Shigeo was holding the plushies in his arms and Teruki realized his mistake when he no longer had free hands for him to hold.

But, the genius tactician and master of social situations that he was, he plucked one of the plushies off Shigeo’s hand, freeing it for the taking.

“Hmm,” Shigeo said, curling his fingers around Teruki’s. “I think I’ll leave one at your place. And take one home.”

“Oh?” Teruki said. “You decided which one is which yet?”

Shigeo opened his mouth as if the answer was right on the tip of his tongue, then swallowed the words and frowned, thinking it over seriously.

It was honestly way too endearing. Teruki was smiling from ear to ear and he couldn’t have stopped even if he’d tried. He squeezed the hand he was holding and Shigeo responded by doing the same.

They were just passing a café, when a familiar voice caught his attention. While Shigeo kept pondering over the important question of which plushie was going to be staying at which house, Teruki turned his attention to the open doorway.

A group of four was arguing loudly over something and it took Teruki a moment to realize, that it was his group. His old friends. Well, it was Akemi, Reiko and Mitsuru with some fourth guy in a different school’s uniform Teruki could only somewhat remember seeing before. As he and Shigeo were passing them by, Mitsuru lifted his head and spotted them.

“Teruki,” he said.

The girls stopped bickering and turned to look at him. They looked just as surprised to see him as he felt. Akemi’s look of surprise morphed into smugness when she recognized the person Teruki was with and she opened her mouth to say something. Before she could, Reiko put her hand on her shoulder and said: “Come on. It’s not worth it,” which had Akemi turning her ire on her instead.

And just like that, Teruki and Shigeo had passed them by. He could still hear their shrill voices as the argument grew louder, but with each step they took, the voices grew more and more distant. He threw one last look over his shoulder to see Akemi poking a finger at Reiko’s chest, her face twisted into an angry scowl.

That’d been him a year ago.

The realization felt weird.

That’d been him and he hadn’t even realized how it’d made him look on the outside.

Akemi was vile. She was cruel and sought to hurt people by poking them where it hurt the most. Teruki had used to hate her for it.

But he couldn’t say he’d been any better.

He still couldn’t say that he liked her. And he wouldn’t have cared if he never saw her or any of the others again.

But he could understand her.

They all had brought out the worst in each other.

He hoped Akemi would have a chance to grow as a person. She couldn’t be happy the way she was. Teruki didn’t believe it for one second. The two of them had been too similar. She was piling on misery on her heart just the way Teruki had. She was spitting out toxic words just so she wouldn’t choke on them herself. It was easier to lash out at others than it was to realize, that the problem was in you.

Just like Teruki had done.

He really hoped the best for the others. That they’d someday realize how miserable they really were and try to start taking steps to make it better.

But he wasn’t going to be there for that. He couldn’t. He didn’t yet trust himself enough to go back to that environment.

He turned his attention back to Shigeo. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, meaning that he was probably still thinking about the plushies. Teruki grinned and reached to place a kiss on the side of his head.

“Hmm?” Shigeo said, looking up.

“Hm? Oh, I just thought about how lucky I was to meet you.”

Shigeo smiled. It was wide and open and Teruki knew he’d never be growing tired of this.