(Disclaimer: as someone who routinely binds their chest while engaging in physical activity...do not bind your chest while engaging in physical activity. Seriously, Tsukki and I make bad decisions, don't follow our example please.)
Chapter 4
The thing about participating in a sport - while simultaneously being on the non-conforming end of the gender spectrum - was that it presented Tsukishima with two equally distasteful options. One involved keeping his binder on during practice, which minimized the daily struggle of the locker room to a degree, and maintained appearances where they needed to be maintained, but at the rather hefty cost of like...oxygen and shit. Which, as a human being last time he checked, he did kind of need. And there was always the unlikely, but ever present possibility of breaking a rib or passing out from asphyxiation, which would be a pain in the ass (and the chest) and would probably earn him another lecture from Coach Ukai and Akiteru at best, and a trip to the hospital at worst.
The other option, though, was taking the binder off.
Usually, he went with option one and just...didn't try that hard, or run back and forth across the court any more than he was absolutely required (unlike some obnoxious orange insects he could name). Practice was only a couple more hours to add to the school day, and he'd sat out on the sidelines the one or two times the gym had really started to spin. It wasn't ideal, exactly, but still preferable to the alternative.
The thing about training camp, though, was that it was nothing but practice all day long. For days on end. Tsukishima might have been a bit heedless of his body and its limitations from time to time, but he wasn't stupid. So the binder had to come off, right from the get-go, and he'd been subconsciously checking his opponents' gazes and consciously hunching his shoulders ever since. He was just thankful that volleyball wasn't typically a contact sport, and that he had options to minimize (but not erase) the risk of being outed to a gym full of strangers, not to mention more than half his teammates. Layering two sports bras got the job done, as far as making his shirt hang right, but an unsuspecting nudge or bump in the wrong place would still shatter the illusion.
Not that it would mean the end of the world to be exposed, necessarily. Yamaguchi and the third years were already in on the secret, as were Ukai and Takeda-sensei, and Hinata - who had merely walked in on something (some things ) he wasn't meant to see. And while the wordsTsukishima has breasts had never actually, audibly left his lips, Tsukishima got the feeling he'd told or...telepathically passed the knowledge on to Kageyama at some point. Due to some odd looks he'd received from the latter following the incident, and some ill-concealed whispering between the two often-conjoined amoebas. The point was, it wouldn't be curtains for him if others were made aware of his circumstances as well...but it would be uncomfortable and inconvenient. Not to mention tedious to have to explain things; it was a lot simpler when people just assumed he was biologically male and went from there, without going through the ordeal of politely asked impolite questions trying to figure him out.
All of this was why he found Bokuto's total, oblivious invasion of his personal space rather intolerable. More so than his loud gestures and accompanying louder, booming laugh, usually preceded by baseless comedy that even a twelve-year-old would have called juvenile. His partner-in-crime Kuroo was hardly better. A little softer with his voice and actions but just as irritating, and just as prone to cracking sad, imbecilic excuses for humor...and leaning in way too close when he talked to people. People being Tsukishima, whose personal bubble was already larger and more tenuous than most on a good day, and had already been obliterated some forty times tonight by the two stooges before him.
How he'd let himself get snared by these two obnoxious captains again, after his silent vow to nevermore set foot in the third gym or face either of them if he could help it, was as much of a mystery now as it had been the first time. He didn't want to be here. He didn't need to be here. So then, why was he?
He was...spiraling, he supposed. Had been since arriving at this week-long training camp, and probably before. He didn't know what had started it, but he knew that being around all his motivated, invigorated teammates did nothing to help it, and that being alone only made it worse. Music had offered no solace, and neither had silence, so it seemed he was simply immersing himself in...noise. Of which Bokuto and Kuroo certainly had no shortage.
"So you're saying if you got it stuck in a vending machine you wouldn't try chewing it off?"
"We aren't coyotes, Bo."
It was kind of like watching the creation of the universe, Tsukishima thought. An isolated system, as it were. Pure entropy, without cause or reason, unfolding in the blink of an eye and wreaking havoc, rushing out of the ether and sweeping up everything in its path. Calamitous, mildly terrifying, and yet strangely fascinating to watch. And so both he and Akaashi, who had at least had the sense to put some distance between the maelstrom and his person, had been sucked into silently witnessing the inconceivable argument before them, that had already taken up the better part of ten minutes and was somehow still going on.
"So? Desperate times, man; what if you were all alone, and stuck in a vending machine, and your phone was dead so you couldn't call for help and -"
"Bo. My dude. My main man. We don't have canines." Kuroo's face had become an interesting cocktail of suppressed, internal hilarity, blatant exasperation, and the cool, sagely patience of a father explaining to a young child the ways of the world.
"We do too , look," And, leaning an arm on Tsukishima's shoulder as if he was, in any way, backing this argument up, or participating in any way - which he was not - Bokuto used the other to pry up his lip and display his pearly white cuspids, smirking triumphantly and completely missing Tsukishima's disgusted scowl. "Besides you know you could actually, like, bite your own finger off if your brain didn't -"
"Excuse me," Tsukishima interrupted - why, why - leveling Bokuto's gleaming stare with a deceptively pleasant smile, "Bokuto-san, right? Can you promise me something?"
"Uh…" Bokuto blinked, thumb still hooked in his own cheek, elbow still digging into Tsukishima's shoulder, "Sure, Tsukki! What's tha -?"
"Never breed."
Immediately following his deadpan statement, chaos erupted. He wasn't sure where to look first. Bokuto's jaw seemed to have come unhinged, and hung open in a wide, dumbfounded square, his eyes round and blank with shock. Akaashi's laughter was silent and instantaneous, muffled into the back of his hand as his shoulders visibly shook, eyes squeezed shut.
Kuroo's laughter was instantaneous too, but his was anything but silent . He clutched at his stomach and threw back his head, noise bursting out of him like a hurricane, rough and ungraceful and so loud , his whole frame heaving with it. Tsukishima swore he even saw goddamn tears in his eyes, which he wiped away quickly as he shot over to thump an increasingly catatonic Bokuto on the back, thankfully dislodging his arm from Tsukishima's shoulder in the process. Tsukishima felt rather dazed, like a whirlwind had just blown past him.
"Oh man, you just got served, " Kuroo was hooting, grinding the heel of his hand into Bokuto's wild hair, making it even wilder, "Fukurodani's finest, the famous Ace Captain, destroyed by a first-year with just three syllables."
"Don't mind, Bokuto-san," Akaashi chipped in, still conspicuously short of breath, reaching over to pat Bokuto's arm in an almost appallingly patronizing manner. What little remained of Bokuto's dignity seemed to crumble, and he sagged against Kuroo with a heavy sigh.
"Take me home, Tetsu," he whispered thinly, staring across the gym with hopeless, unseeing eyes, "I'll never recover from this. My volleyball career is over, this is the end… Bury my ashes in Koishikawa Garden, under the cherry trees..."
"Which one, K ō rakuen or the Botanical Gardens?" Kuroo asked sweetly, stroking a gentle hand through Bokuto's hair.
He was probably still teasing. No, he was obviously still teasing, everything Tsukishima had seen of Kuroo's character up to now suggested that he was. But there was still...something in his expression, as he petted Bokuto's head and listened to his (melodramatic and totally imaginary) dying wishes, something warm and soft and possibly...genuine?
...What the hell.
"This always happens," Akaashi sighed, bracing his hands on his knees and surveying the pair of absolute lunatics embracing each other gravely in front of them with apparent resignation, "And by the time Kuroo-san calms him down, it'll be too late to keep practicing..."
"Sorry," Tsukishima muttered out of the side of his mouth; sorry for shattering your spiker's will to live, it was only sort of on purpose... and to his surprise (and then dismay) Akaashi just elbowed him lightly, almost playfully, in the chest. Which, to be fair, was probably about as high as he could reach.
"Don't -" he broke off for only a second, smoky eyes darting back up almost before Tsukishima saw them glance down. A flicker of realization still showed in them; confusion, a hint of curiosity, but he refrained from commenting on his accidental discovery and simply went on, "Don't worry about it. There's always tomorrow." His smile was brief and disarming...and frankly, beautiful. It almost made up for the fact that Tsukishima was spiraling...had been since arriving at this week-long training camp, and probably before. It even almost made up for having to deal with Kuroo and Bokuto and their combined hysteria. Almost.
And, even though Akaashi had refrained from commenting; hadn't raised any politely asked impolite questions or drawn Bokuto or Kuroo's attention away from their dramatics a few paces away...as he recalled the uncharacteristic warmth he'd seen in the latter's gaze a moment ago, Tsukishima was surprised to find that honestly...he might not have minded all that much if he had.
No, seriously...what the hell.
TBC
