Kageyama had never anticipated to be in such a compromising situation. On the side of a bridge in Miyagi, holding Yamaguchi tightly, watching the combined shadows of the two slowly disperse on the concrete sidewalk in the fading light of a cool autumn night.
But there he was, with Yamaguchi steadily sobbing a river into the crook of his neck, dampening his cotton school shirt, his fingers pressing firmly onto Kageyama's shoulders.
As far as Kageyama was concerned, this was 100% stupid Tsukishima fault. How ridiculous he almost sneered aloud as he narrowed his eyes at the ground past Yamaguchi's shoulder, hesitantly beginning to rub small soothing circles-just like Hinata had done to him- against the shorter boys back. How ridiculous that Tsukishima still couldn't see how Yamaguchi felt about him. They were third years now for gods-sake, how could he still be so oblivious?
And Yamaguchi was probably in love with stupid Tsukishima. Stupid stupid Tsukishima who had gotten confessed to by some girl in his class and had started dating.
Kageyama had guessed it had been at least an hour and a half since he had found Yamaguchi up on the bridge alone, his forehead and eyes buried in the palm of his hands, tears streaming, leaving invisible tracks down his freckled face.
"Y-you know about...Tsukki..." Yamaguchi had broken his endless stream of crying, substituting it for sniffling and the occasional hiccup. Kageyama didn't move away nor lift his head once Yamaguchi had spoken but instead felt as if he should hold the other boy tighter.
"Yeah... yeah. I get it." Kageyama had fully experienced his share of indefinite unrequited feelings from Hinata, not that he had ever bothered to find out how the other felt... but what was happening to Yamaguchi was... unfair. Cruel. Honestly heartbreaking. Kageyama wasn't even sure he had felt about Hinata the way Yamaguchi even looked at Tsukishima with his glistening eyes and a hopeful smile and a faint tinge of pink plastered on his cheeks.
"He...He! i feel...like an idiot...he never felt..." Yamaguchi had blubbered out between his sniffling before dissolving back into a fit of sobbing into Kageyama's shirt again.
And what else could Kageyama really do but hold him? To hold him on the bridge until he had calmed down enough to walk home with red, tired eyes and a sad smile, watch as Yamaguchi was crushed once again under his love for Tsukishima.
Reminded of his own misery as he made his way home in the near darkness of the night, cheeks pinched pink by the cool October air, he felt his own heart shatter for poor Yamaguchi and stupid Tsukishima.