Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Alright, Yamaguchi!” Tanaka whispered, crouched behind the corner of the locker hallway like he was in a spy movie. “Remember: subtlety is key.”

“Confidence!” Nishinoya added, fist-pumping the air. “You gotta flirt, not faint!”

Sugawara, crouched next to Daichi and Asahi, nodded sagely. “Just smile, act natural, and get him to notice you in a different way~”

Asahi rubbed the back of his neck. “I still don’t know if this is appropriate…”

Daichi, who had somehow been dragged into this, muttered, “You guys better not break anything.”

Meanwhile, poor Yamaguchi stood by the lockers, cheeks pink and hands fidgeting. “You guys are sure this will work?”

“Yes!” the team whispered in chaotic harmony.

Phase 1 of “Operation Flirt With Tsukishima” was simple:
Play the damsel-in-distress.

The problem?
Yamaguchi was about as graceful as a baby deer on ice.

He stretched up on his toes, pretending to reach for his bag that was (strategically) placed on top of the lockers — courtesy of Tanaka, who had ‘just the right height advantage.’

Yamaguchi’s fingers grazed the strap. “Almost… got it…”

Then—
“…Yamaguchi?”

That voice. Deep, calm, and painfully familiar.

Yamaguchi flinched so hard he nearly toppled backward. He turned, wide-eyed, to see Tsukishima standing there, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised.

“T-Tsukki!” Yamaguchi squeaked, his heart doing gymnastics.

Tsukishima blinked. “…What are you doing?” He says slowly.

From around the corner, the Karasuno spy team collectively leaned out just a little.

“I—I can’t reach my bag!” Yamaguchi blurted, trying to sound casual.

Tsukishima looked up at the bag. Then down at Yamaguchi. Then back at the bag.

“…How did it get up there?”

Yamaguchi froze.

The team leaned in.

Hinata mouthed ‘Say something cool!’

“I—uh—” Yamaguchi stammered, and before he could stop himself, he blurted,
“I threw it!?”

A beat of silence.

From behind the wall came the collective sound of every single team member slapping their foreheads.

Tsukishima just stared. Slowly. Blinking.

“…You threw your own bag… onto the top of the lockers,” he said flatly.

“I—uh—yeah?” Yamaguchi squeaked, face now crimson.

Tsukishima sighed, clearly deciding not to question it. “Unbelievable.”

Then — to the utter shock of the Karasuno spy squad — he stepped forward, so close Yamaguchi could feel the warmth radiating from him.

Tsukishima leaned over him, pressing one hand on the locker beside Yamaguchi’s shoulder as he reached up effortlessly for the bag, wedging Yamaguchi between the lockers and himself.

Yamaguchi’s heart stopped.

(He could hear Tanaka and Nishinoya silently cheering in the background.)

“He’s so close!!” Yamaguchi thought wildly, eyes darting to Tsukishima’s face — his calm, half-lidded gaze, the faint smirk that tugged at his lips.

And then Tsukishima lowered the bag, holding it out to him.

Yamaguchi reached to take it, about to whisper a trembling “thank you”, when Tsukishima interrupted quietly, “…Hey.”

“Huh?” Yamaguchi looked up at Tsukishima.

Tsukishima looked back at him, serious now. “Are you being bullied or something? Because you can tell me.”

Yamaguchi blinked. “W-what?”

“I mean,” Tsukishima said, nodding toward the bag, “if someone’s hiding your stuff or putting it out of reach— you can just say so.”

Yamaguchi’s throat tightened — partly from mortification, partly from how unexpectedly sweet that was.

“It’s not like that,” he said softly, a small smile playing at his lips. “Promise.”

Tsukishima searched his face for a moment, then nodded, handing the bag over. “…Alright. Just making sure.”

And with that, he turned and walked off down the hall — leaving Yamaguchi standing there, blushing so hard it looked like steam might rise from his head.

From around the corner, the team peeked out.

Tanaka groaned. “Man, we were so close!”

“Close?” Nishinoya whispered back. “That was straight out of a rom-com!”

Yachi clasped her hands together dramatically. “He was so worried about him. My heart!”

Daichi sighed. “You people are gonna give me grey hair.”

Sugawara just chuckled. “Phase 1… not a total failure.”

Asahi nodded solemnly. “Yeah. But I think Tsukishima already likes him.”

Yamaguchi, still pink and dazed, clutched his bag to his chest and mumbled under his breath, “Oh my god…”

Chapter Text

The gym echoed with the sound of squeaking shoes, volleyballs smacking hands, and Nishinoya yelling, “ONE MORE RECEIVE!”

Practice was in full swing — which was exactly why Yamaguchi was not expecting Phase 2 of “Operation Flirt With Tsukishima” to happen right now.

From the bench, Hinata whispered conspiratorially to Sugawara, “He hasn’t done it yet.”

“Well, he better,” Suga mumbled back, smirking. “Or he’s gonna lose his chance.”

“Look — Tsukishima’s walking over!” Hinata all but excitedly whispers.

Sure enough, Tsukishima had just finished his drills and was heading toward the water bottles — where Yamaguchi stood, frowning, both hands twisting helplessly at the cap of his bottle.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. “…You good?”

Yamaguchi blinked up, startled. “Ah—! Yeah, I just— um— it’s stuck—”

Tsukishima smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You really are hopeless sometimes.”

And before Yamaguchi could protest, Tsukishima plucked the bottle from his hands, twisted the cap effortlessly, and handed it back like it was nothing.

“See? Not that hard.”

Yamaguchi stared at the bottle, brain buffering like a lagging video. This was not how Phase 2 was supposed to start. He was supposed to prepare, time it right— maybe have Suga give him a thumbs up or something!

But instead, his mouth went rogue.

“Y-you have really nice hands!!”

A loud thunk echoed across the gym as Hinata dropped his volleyball in shock.

Everyone froze.

Tsukishima blinked once. Slowly. “…What?”

Yamaguchi’s face turned crimson. “I—I MEAN—uh—they’re—strong?? Good for—uh—bottle opening??”

Behind them, Nishinoya and Tanaka collapsed against each other, wheezing with laughter. “OH MY GOD HE ACTUALLY SAID IT!”

Tsukishima, meanwhile, had gone completely still — and then, suddenly, he laughed. Not his usual quiet scoff, but a genuine, low laugh that caught Yamaguchi totally off guard.

“Nice hands, huh?” Tsukishima said, voice light with amusement. He leaned down slightly, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “You’ve been staring at them that much?”

“W-WHAT?! N-NO I—!!” Yamaguchi sputtered, hands flailing in pure panic. His brain was melting, his face was on fire, and before he could stop himself—

PSHHHHH!

He accidentally squeezed the water bottle — hard.

A jet of water shot straight up… and hit him square in the face.

The entire gym went silent for half a beat— then erupted into laughter.

Tanaka was crying, Nishinoya was rolling on the floor, and Hinata was shrieking, “HE SPRAYED HIMSELF!”

Even Daichi had to cover his mouth to hide his grin. “Yamaguchi, you okay?”

Yamaguchi just stood there, dripping, mortified beyond words.

Tsukishima, trying very hard not to laugh again, reached out and grabbed a towel from the bench. He handed it to Yamaguchi, still smirking. “You really are something else, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi pressed the towel to his face, mumbling through it, “P-please forget that happened.”

“No chance,” Tsukishima said lightly. “But… thanks.”

Yamaguchi blinked at him, confused. “…For what?”

Tsukishima’s lips quirked. “For noticing.”

That did it. Yamaguchi made a strangled noise, turned on his heel, and hid behind Suga — who immediately started fanning his face dramatically and whispering to the team, “OH, they’re doomed. This is true love.”

Tsukishima just shook his head, muttering, “Idiots,” but there was no hiding the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Chapter Text

By lunchtime, the rumour had already spread through half the school.

By afternoon practice, everyone knew.

Apparently, someone from Class 1-4 had seen Tsukishima and Hinata walking to the convenience store before morning drills. One picture later — a blurry, half-cropped shot of the two side by side — and the caption “New Karasuno power couple?” — The news had spread like wildfire across the school.

Now the entire team was having a field day.

“You two look great together!” Nishinoya crowed, clutching his stomach with laughter.

“Dynamic duo of height difference!” Tanaka added, cackling.

Hinata looked seconds away from spontaneous combustion. “WE’RE NOT DATING!”

Tsukishima looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “You’d have to pay me.”

“Excuse me!?” Hinata shouted, bristling. “You think I’d want to date you!?”

“Exactly,” Tsukishima deadpanned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So why are we still talking about this?”

Daichi sighed. “Alright, enough—”

“No, no, let them fight!” Nishinoya said gleefully. “This is prime entertainment!”

Even Sugawara was giggling behind his hand. “To be fair, it is kind of funny~”

Amid the laughter and shouts echoing across the gym, Yamaguchi sat quietly on the bench, staring at the floor.

He was smiling — or at least trying to — but it didn’t reach his eyes.

The more he heard the words “Tsukishima” and “Hinata” together, the tighter something twisted in his chest.

It was stupid. It wasn’t real. He knew that.

Tsukki hated gossip like this.

Hinata wasn’t even interested.

But still…

Of all people, Yamaguchi thought, why Hinata?

It made sense, in a way. Hinata was bright, energetic, always buzzing like sunlight. He could talk to anyone. He made people laugh. He drew them in.

And Tsukki — despite pretending otherwise — never ignored Hinata for long. They bickered, teased, and pushed each other in ways Yamaguchi never could.

The laughter of the team faded into a dull hum. Yamaguchi’s eyes drifted to the floor, hands clasped in his lap.

Does everyone really think Tsukki hates me that much?

That the idea of us together is impossible… but him and Hinata makes sense?

A volleyball bounced near his feet, breaking his thoughts.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima called, holding up a hand. “You spacing out or something?”

Yamaguchi blinked, startled. “Oh—sorry! Yeah, just—” He forced a smile. “Just thinking.”

Tsukishima frowned slightly. “Don’t fry your brain..”

That earned him a few laughs from Tanaka and Noya, but Yamaguchi just nodded weakly, his smile faltering for a second before he turned away.

Tsukishima hesitated. He didn’t miss that look — the one Yamaguchi tried to hide.

The rest of practice went on, loud and chaotic as ever, but Tsukishima’s focus kept drifting back toward the bench, where Yamaguchi sat quieter than usual, tapping his fingers against his knee.

Something about it didn’t sit right with him.

When practice ended and everyone started filing out, Tsukishima lingered near the doors.

“Yamaguchi,” he called.

“Ah—yeah?”

Tsukishima looked at him for a long moment, the usual dry smirk nowhere to be found. “…You don’t believe that rumour crap, right?”

Yamaguchi blinked, caught off guard. “W-what? Oh, no! Of course not!” He laughed, but it sounded a little too high-pitched. “You’d never date Hinata.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. “You sound weirdly sure of that,” he says sarcastically.

“I just—uh—know you,” Yamaguchi said quickly. “That’s all.”

Tsukishima studied him — the flush on his cheeks, the nervous smile, the way he fiddled with the hem of his jersey.

“…You’re an idiot,” Tsukishima muttered finally, turning toward the door.

Yamaguchi tilted his head. “Eh?”

“Come on,” Tsukishima said, voice quieter now. “You’re walking home with me, right?”

The words were simple — casual — but the knot in Yamaguchi’s chest loosened all at once.

He smiled, genuinely this time, grabbing his bag. “Yeah. Always.”

And as they left the gym, Daichi whispered to Sugawara, “Rumour or not, we all know who Tsukishima actually likes to walk home with.”

Sugawara grinned. “And it sure isn’t Hinata.”

Chapter Text

The streets outside the gym were already dark, the sky painted in deep indigo and thin clouds of silver breath. Their sneakers scuffed lightly against the pavement as they walked side by side — close, but not quite touching.

Yamaguchi was quiet.

Too quiet.

Tsukishima noticed. He always did.

“You’ve been weird since practice,” Tsukishima said finally, his voice breaking the steady rhythm of their steps. “What’s up?”

Yamaguchi forced a little laugh. “Weird? I’m fine! I’m just… tired, I guess.”

“Liar.”

The word came out flat but not unkind. Tsukishima’s gaze flicked sideways, glasses catching the light of a passing car. “You always get fidgety when you’re lying.”

Yamaguchi looked down at his shoes. “…It’s nothing big. Just that rumour. It’s dumb, I know.”

“Yeah. It is.”

Yamaguchi nodded, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “I just—” He hesitated, searching for the words. “You and Hinata always bicker, but it kind of looks like… you two get along? People see that, and I guess… it makes sense to them.”

Tsukishima frowned. “Makes sense?”

“I mean, you’re opposites, right? He’s loud, you’re calm. He’s short, you’re tall. You balance each other out.” He smiled, small and a little sad. “And, well… I get it. People don’t really think we make sense like that.”

For a moment, neither said anything. The cold wind rustled the trees.

Then Tsukishima sighed — a soft, quiet sound, the kind he only ever let out around Yamaguchi. “You think I’d ever date Hinata?”

Yamaguchi blinked up at him. “Well, no—”

“Then stop thinking about it.” Tsukishima’s tone wasn’t sharp, but there was something certain in it — firm, like he was closing the subject entirely. “I don’t like people assuming stuff about me. Especially when it’s wrong.”

“…Yeah,” Yamaguchi murmured, trying to smile again. “Sorry. You’re right.”

They walked a few more paces in silence before Tsukishima spoke again — quieter this time. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

Tsukishima huffed a tiny laugh, breath fogging in the cold air. “You think I’m soft with everyone.”

Yamaguchi glanced at him, startled. “Huh? I never said—”

“You didn’t have to.” Tsukishima looked away, eyes following the flicker of streetlights ahead. “You just assume that’s what I’m like underneath. But that’s not true.”

Yamaguchi frowned a little. “You are softer than people think, though. You act cold, but you’re not.”

Tsukishima turned to look at him, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable — something between amusement and something gentler.

“…You really don’t get it,” he said again, quieter this time.

Yamaguchi blinked. “What do you mean?”

Tsukishima’s gaze softened — just slightly — before he looked back ahead, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

“I’m not like this with everyone,” he said simply.

Yamaguchi tilted his head. “Huh?”

Tsukishima didn’t elaborate. He just shrugged one shoulder and added, “You’re special, dumbass,” as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

Yamaguchi’s breath caught — a small, startled sound that made Tsukishima smirk faintly without turning his head.

“…Now stop overthinking,” Tsukishima said. “You’ll wrinkle that big forehead of yours.”

Yamaguchi sputtered, face burning. “T-Tsukki!”

Tsukishima chuckled quietly — the kind of laugh that didn’t come from mockery, but from comfort.

And though Yamaguchi would go home that night thinking Tsukki really can be kind when he wants to be, he wouldn’t realise — not yet — that Tsukishima never was like this with anyone else.

Only him.

Always him.