A Shoulder To Lean On

by YaelaTheWordsmith

A series of Haikyuu oneshots, many involving Yachi because she's an adorable fluff bunny. Contents page has all chapter summaries - feel free to skim and check out the ones that seem interesting! Canon-compliant, non-linear timeline; bromance, friendship and fluff feature prominently, as does general Karasuno dorkiness. Prompts welcome! (On hiatus Until New Riders is revised)

10. Down By The River, The River So Sweet

A/N: I love these two to death, and I swear they were out to get me

18 DAYS IT TOOK ME FOR THIS CHAPTER

NYGH

ALL THE DIFFERENT TENSES I SWEAR THEY KILLED ME

PLEASE LET ME KNOW OF EACH AND EVERY TINY MISTAKE THIS WAS SO LARGE TO PROOFREAD

I really hope you enjoy this, Kind Reader, I put a lot into this chapter. We're back with Yachi, the sweetest most adorable thing ever!

The author recommends that the reader listen to the following songs before reading -

The Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger song, which is the theme song of the original Power Rangers Dino Thunder (for all those who are not aware, as I was not, till recently, that the Super Sentai series is the basis for the Power Ranger series).

Datte Atashi No Hero, by Lisa - closing song for season two of Boku No Hero Academia. Read the translated lyrics as well.

Human by Christina Perri. For the best effect, imagine it playing in the background as you read. (Pardon me my melodramatic flourishes).

Also very minor spoiler warning for BNHA season 2.

AND NOW, FINALLY, LET US BEGIN!

29/6/18

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Down By The River, The River So Sweet

Summary: More than one person has wondered at the apparent imbalance in the friendship between Yamaguchi Tadashi and Tsukishima Kei. But it's not as one sided as it seems. Down by the river is where the balance is righted with hesitant words and an old song, where comfort is offered and accepted.

Five times they helped each other, and the one time Yachi Hitoka was there as well.

---

It was Tsukki who started it, which seems odd to Tadashi now, when he thinks about it. The first instance of their unusual tradition . . . it had been somewhere about the end of third grade, hadn't it? The last year of elementary school. He and Tsukki had both been nine, and he'd known Tsukki for less than a year. And what had happened was -

Tadashi hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack as he walked, chewing on his lip absently. Something was definitely wrong; there was no explaining it away any longer. A couple of day's absence? Hay fever, maybe (though he didn't think Tsukishima had any allergies). A week? It could be a really bad cold, or viral fever. But Tsukishima had missed the elementary school graduation ceremony, and Tadashi knew he would never do something so disrespectful. Besides, he thought maybe Tsukishima had been looking forward to it - as far as he could tell. Certainly when he'd talked about it he'd smiled a bit more often than usual.

He sighed quietly, reached up to push the pedestrian crossing button, and tilted his face up as he rocked onto the balls of his feet. The sun would be down in an hour or so, and right now orange and rose were beginning to spill across the sky in full force. It was pretty, Tadashi thought, and wished he had some talent with paint and a brush, or at least that he had a camera with him, so he could capture it before it faded.

The light changed, and Tadashi crossed the road with a quiet sigh, turning to walk along the river. The riverbank sloped down a little steeply here, and if someone was lying down you couldn't really see them unless you stood close to the railing. Tadashi used to come here to play, sometimes, to maybe kick a ball around with his neighbours or fly a kite. They'd always end up shrieking with laughter, sopping wet from tumbling into the small, shallow pool that led off on one side.

Of course, that had been before - everything. Before the bullying started. Before third grade.

Before Tsukishima.

Tadashi kicked a pebble, frowning a little. He kind of missed having more people to hang out with, but . . . if he'd been part of a gang, instead of the target, he'd be a bully too, wouldn't he? With Tsukishima, he was safe. And he could be who he actually was, without worrying about getting laughed at. Tsukishima might tell him he was being stupid, or look exasperated and ask him what he thought he was talking about, but he never laughed at him. And he was really really cool, so it was actually kind of amazing that he even let Tadashi hang around. He never seemed to get upset about anything, and no one could ever bully him.

Which was why it was even more worrying that he hadn't been around for so long. Something really bad must have happened. Should he maybe go to Tsukishima's house? He didn't know where in the neighbourhood it might be, but he thought his mom knew. She might drop him there, if he asked nicely - but would that be a bother to Tsukishima? Would he not want him there? Or would that bother his family?

Well, he could call. His mom definitely had Tsukishima's mom's number, he was sure about that. Though he'd only gotten to know Tsukishima a bit after the school year started, their moms had met and taken to each other really fast. So he could call and ask if everything was okay. He just hoped Tsukishima wouldn't get mad, though he'd never really seen him mad before -

He yelped and took a hasty step back as something sleek and white slid across his field of vision.

Oh, it's just a paper aeroplane . . .

He glanced back across the road, where a group of kids were gesturing excitedly, their shouts reaching him even through the low rumble of traffic.

"Look at it go!"

"Nice one, Shota!"

"Will it make it to the river, do you think?"

Tadashi didn't recognise any of them, but the question intrigued him, so he watched with them as the plane rode the lazy breeze, swooping up high -

- and then plummeted down to the grass slope.

The kids on the other side groaned.

"Man, it didn't even make it down the bank."

"It went further than any of the others, though . . ."

"Make another one, let's see if it goes further! We can try from behind that shop down the road."

Tadashi shaded his eyes with one hand and squinted down the bank, hardly noticing that the voices were trailing away. He'd happened to glance at the young clump of trees growing near the pool as the plane drifted down, and he thought he could see - was it? It couldn't be! He did live close by, he knew that, but he'd never . . . well, as far as Tadashi knew, he'd never come to the river.

Tadashi hesitated for a long moment - what if it was someone else, and he was making a mistake? - but then he slipped under the railing and hurried down the slope, hiking his backpack farther up his back. If it really was someone else, he'd just have to apologize and go away. Simple enough, he could do that . . .

As he got closer, though, he only became more certain that it was, in fact, Tsukishima. He was wearing that purple hoodie, and his hair was pale blonde, and - ah, he was turning! And yes, his glasses were gleaming in the evening light. It was him.

But he - looked -

He turned back around almost immediately, and Tadashi could feel his feet slowing down on their own. He'd never seen Tsukishima look like that. If he felt like Tsukishima had looked, he would want to be alone for a few hours - or, at least, he'd want his mother to hug him for a while.

He didn't know what Tsukishima would want, though. So should he keep going? Or would it be better to leave? No, it would be rude to leave now. He'd . . . he'd sit next to Tsukishima for a bit, and maybe try to talk. If he didn't seem like he wanted Tadashi around - or, of course, if he just said that outright - he'd leave and resort to calling him up in a few days, as intimidating as that idea was.

So Tadashi sat down, shrugging his backpack off, and held his crossed legs at the ankles, wondering what to say. On his right, Tsukishima was hugging his knees to his chest, face stony and eyes distant as they watched the flowing water.

It was quiet, quieter than usual. There weren't too many vehicles on the road, and birds had started to build their nests in the new trees sprouting by the pool, so there was birdsong to meld with the soft whistle of the breeze. Tadashi would have found it soothing if he hadn't been busy worrying about whether to say something - what to say, how to phrase it, when to say it, what tone to use so he would come across both as respectfully enquiring and sympathetic . . .

Tsukishima wasn't saying anything either. The silence stretched on and on, and soon enough Tadashi was almost fidgeting with worry. But Tsukishima never looked at him. He simply sat watching the river, glasses reflecting the light rippling across the water, and eventually Tadashi stopped glancing at him anxiously and began to watch the river as well.

He didn't notice, until fifteen minutes or so later, that his hands had relaxed their clench on his legs, that his shoulders had relaxed a bit, that his worry for and about Tsukishima now resembled a quiet hum rather than the noisy chaos from before.

Tadashi blinked, resting his chin in his hands, watching an insect vanish from the surface of the water with a faint plop, sucked under by a silvery shimmer that quickly swam away and disappeared.

Huh, I guess I learned something new today . . . that the river is a good place to come to to calm down.

He glanced at Tsukishima, who looked just the same.

It doesn't seem to be working for Tsukishima, though. I guess I'll wait until he decides to talk or gets up to go home - or until I need to go home - since he seems okay with me being here. And until then . . . Tadashi took a deep breath. Till then, I'll try to keep a clear mind and not to get worried again, so I can help better if he does decide to talk.

With the river to help, keeping his worry at bay turned out to be much easier than Tadashi could have imagined. Before he knew it, his train of thought had shifted entirely - he'd gone from how the gym teacher had smiled and told him to keep practising volleyball the day before, to the elementary graduation ceremony, to the present his father had brought him from his last trip, to the show Tsukishima had introduced him to a few weeks ago . . .

"It's really cool," he'd said, actually looking pretty excited - like he did when he talked about his brother, the junior high ace. "It's got these people who use the power of dinosaurs to fight and stuff. They have these morphers, and swords, and - hey, let me show you, I'll get my brother's laptop -"

It had been pretty cool. Tadashi had learned the theme song within days, the one that went -

"Abare, abare, abare," he sang softly, absentmindedly. "Makure, get up! Abare, abare, tsuki-tsukisusume . . ."

Tadashi faltered, mouth going dry as Tsukishima turned to look at him with the most disbelieving stare he'd ever encountered. He flushed furiously - what was he thinking, singing the Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger song when Tsukishima was in trouble and upset and worried, idiot that he was -

He opened his mouth to apologize immediately, but - wait - was that - had Tsukishima just shaken his head? It had been a slight movement, so he wasn't sure, but -

Tadashi hesitated, torn between apologizing as earnestly as he could and believing what he thought he'd seen. Then he closed his mouth slowly, anxiously scanning Tsukishima's face for a hint that he was doing the right thing.

Tsukishima turned back to face the water, burying his face in his arms upto his nose. His eyes flicked sideways for a moment, and one finger made a slight motion.

Tadashi hesitated again, looking from Tsukishima's eyes to his face to the set of his shoulders.

"Um, s-seigi no na wo ima k-kegasu no wa dare da? Saketa sora kara . . ."

He sang his way through the entire extended version, all four and a half minutes of it - wincing when his voice shook or when he messed up the words, hurrying on in the hope that Tsukishima wouldn't notice, because what if he got tired of his horrible singing and told him to stop, or even got up and left because of it?

But Tsukishima stayed. Tadashi only knew he was listening because, after a bit, one finger started tapping out the beat absentmindedly. Other than that, he could have been made of stone.

When Tadashi finished, hitting the last, high note extremely self consciously, Tsukishima raised his head a little and looked at him.

"Again," he said quietly. " . . . Please."

This time, Tadashi launched into the song with far less hesitation. It was helping Tsukishima, and that was all that mattered.

When he fell silent, for a moment there was no sound but that of the river and the birds and the breeze.

Then Tsukishima sniffled.

It was such an unexpected sound, Tadashi could only gape at him blankly. Tsukishima - tall and cool and smart and enthusiastic about only two things, dinosaurs and his older brother - was crying, actually crying. His eyes were red behind his glasses, and he turned away to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

Tadashi's heart dropped like a stone. Oh man, oh man, did I do something wrong? Or did that not help at all? What do I do now? Do I leave? Do I go and tell his mom? Do I try to give him a hug or something? Do I - how do I - I don't know what to -

"I - I was at a funeral," Tsukishima hiccupped.

Tadashi's heart sank even further, sorrow and sympathy flooding into him.

"Oh! I'm - I'm really sorry, Tsukishima. Um - wh-who was it?"

Tsukishima took his glasses off and placed them on the ground, rubbing at his face furiously. "My dad," he mumbled.

Tadashi couldn't stop a hand from stealing over his mouth in horror. "Oh," he said faintly.

Tsukishima buried his head all the way under his arms.

Ahhh, what do I do?!

Tadashi reached out, pulled back, bit his lip furiously, took in Tsukishima's slightly shaking shoulders, and reached out again, carefully placing one hand on Tsukishima's shoulder and the other on his knee.

I know he doesn't like people touching him and hugs and things, but he seems like he needs - I think I should - is this okay -?

Tsukishima jerked a little, like he wanted to throw the touch off but had stopped himself with an effort. Tadashi squeezed carefully, trying to focus on comforting him instead of how intensely nervous he was.

They stayed that way for a long time.

Later, the next day, Tsukishima would manage to tell Tadashi about the stroke that had happened so quickly and silently. He would talk, quietly, looking into the distance, about how his mother and brother had pulled together and managed to support each other through the funeral, through everything, never showing their sorrow to him or to each other - and how that had kind of made everything worse, somehow. He would apologize, stiffly, for crying, and say that it wasn't that his father had been a particularly good or kind or loving man, but it had been a shock, and he hadn't been a bad person either, so -

And Tadashi would try to wave the awkwardness away with a smile and fluttering hands, and would touch him lightly on the shoulder and say it was fine, and he'd go with Tsukishima to lay flowers on the grave every year, and his mom had given him food to give to Tsukishima's family - he hadn't told her, of course! He really hadn't! She had heard from someone else, from Hashimoto-san across the road - and here! It was kind of a lot, but -

And Tsukishima would give him a look that would send him into blushing silence, and try to hide a smile that was more grateful than he wanted it to be.

On that evening, though, they sat in silence by the river, young trees rustling over their heads, warm hands on cold limbs, and one found a touch of comfort and solace he had never expected to find, while the other gave help he never thought he could - or would be called upon to give.

That was the first time.

⸸

The second time, Kei remembers, it was Yamaguchi. They'd been in the fifth grade, second years at middle school, both of them eleven, and -

- Yamaguchi hadn't turned up to volleyball practice the day before, and he hadn't turned up today either. And even before that, in earlier practice sessions, he'd been jittery the whole time before gathering his stuff and rushing out as soon as Coach dismissed them. Kei pursed his lips slightly, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, and tugged his hood lower over his face to shut out the sharp breeze as he wondered what could be keeping Yamaguchi away. He was starting to really like volleyball, Kei could tell. But he'd been kind of weird for a week or so . . . like he was wilting. He didn't chatter on about random things on their way home as much, and he was quieter in class, and he didn't jump with as much nervous enthusiasm in club, and he was just altogether less bright in general. Like something was weighing on his mind. It bugged Kei, because he'd grown used to all of that in the couple of years they'd been in the same class, and having it change was - was just off, like missing a step when he was going down the stairs. And it also meant something was wrong with Yamaguchi that Kei didn't know about, which was really weird, because usually Kei was the first to hear about everything Yamaguchi was thinking. And now Yamaguchi was actually skipping practice . . . .

And if Kei was honest, he kind of missed having someone to walk home with.

He wasn't worried, though. Not by a long shot. He was just slightly perturbed, and wondering how long he should wait to see if Yamaguchi turned up before actually going to his house and finding out what was going on.

Kei looked down both sides of the road absently before moving to cross the street, wondering if actually going to his house to ask about this would be nosy. It would, wouldn't it? Maybe he could get his mom to make something to take over. Had Yamaguchi's birthday passed? It hadn't, right? It was . . . next week. Good, he could get his mom to make cake and use that as an excuse to visit. Assuming, of course, that Yamaguchi still didn't turn up to practice. Or missed school. Obviously if he went back to normal there wouldn't be a need for that.

Well, getting his mom to make cake still sounded like a good idea . . .

Kei's eyes automatically flicked to the river as he walked down the sidewalk, one hand reaching out absentmindedly to trail along the railing, despite the nip in the air. It was a habit he'd fallen into a while ago, looking down at the river whenever he used this road.

It was due to that habit that he stopped after a few steps, frowning as he squinted through his glasses. There was a dark spot near the pool, under the clump of trees. It was a - someone wearing a jacket? Yeah, a navy blue jacket. A jacket that looked entirely too familiar.

He paused for a moment, uncertain, then shrugged and slipped under the railing, making his way down to the trees.

Okay, this has to be - It is, isn't it? Dark hair, that ridiculous tuft sticking out on top, and that jacket with the collar that's starting to fray -

Definitely him.

"Yamaguchi?"

He flinched and turned around quickly, sniffing. "Tsukki?"

Kei couldn't help frowning a little, but decided to let the stupid nickname slide for once. He slung his bag off and sat down, ignoring the chill of the grass on the backs of his legs. "What are you doing here?"

Yamaguchi sniffed again, looking away. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Kei's eyes narrowed. "How come you haven't been to practice?"

"Not feeling good."

"You still came to school, though."

Yamaguchi didn't answer.

Kei tugged at a blade of grass, feeling unusually off balance. He wasn't used to comforting people. Finding out what was wrong was obviously what he needed to do, but Yamaguchi didn't seem inclined to talk about it, and just asking straight out felt kind of rude - and wouldn't be likely to get him an answer, anyway. He had to put him at ease a bit, first. No way was he going to go for a hug or anything, though, so how else could he . . . A pat on the shoulder or something?

That won't be enough . . . When I'm upset, what helps me is, um . . . Nii-chan talking me through it, and Okaasan hugging me, and a couple of episodes of Bakuryuu - Bakuryuu Sentai . . .

Right. There was that. Something he hadn't expected would help him, something he never would have thought of.

The blade of grass, shredded by nervous fingers, was tossed to the wind as Kei cleared his throat.

You came up with this, Yamaguchi, so it had better work . . . ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this. God, okay, on three - one, two, three -

"Abare, abare, abare . . . makure -"

Yamaguchi turned to look at him instantly, mouth falling open. Kei looked straight ahead, doing his best to ignore both the incredulous gaze and the heat in his own cheeks.

His voice seemed thin and creaky to his own ears, but after a bit Yamaguchi settled back to listen, so it must not have been as bad as he thought. In fact, when he looked over for a moment towards the end of the song, Yamaguchi was smiling, just a tiny bit.

" . . .Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger . . . Abarangerrr!"

He snapped his mouth shut as fast as he could, cutting off the last note prematurely, and dared to glance at Yamaguchi.

Who was smiling a little wider now, even though the tears hadn't stopped.

"Thank you, Tsukki," he said, soft and choked, a blush stealing up his own neck at how his voice was shaking. Kei didn't care about that - he'd just embarrassed himself in a way he knew would come back to haunt him all too often in the next few days.

Come on, Yamaguchi, stop crying. Tell me that helped, at least a little - tell me I didn't just embarrass myself like that for no reason.

Yamaguchi still didn't look like he could really talk though, so, after a moment's hesitation, he reached out and placed an awkward hand on Yamaguchi's shoulder.

Yamaguchi gave an odd mixture of a gulp and a sob at the touch, and Kei hastily drew away, face burning even more, feeling entirely out of his depth.

Okay, I give up. Let him talk if he wants to now, I don't know what else to do.

So he waited while Yamaguchi rubbed at his face and tried to choke down his sobs, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt.

To Yamaguchi's credit, he managed to pull himself together in about five minutes, and it was just like him, Kei thought, just typical of him, that the first thing out of his mouth was an expression of gratitude.

"Thanks, Tsukki, I - sorry for - being a mess, I -"

"Don't worry about that," Kei said, more curtly than he would have liked to. "What's wrong?"

Yamaguchi wiped his nose. "My p-parents are - are fighting."

Kei frowned. This was why Yamaguchi had been so small and quiet for the past few days?

"For how long?"

"For - for some time," Yamaguchi admitted. "Maybe a couple of weeks? I mean, it's like - whenever I'm around they're just always fighting, about everything. About, um, salary things, and about - about me, and about family things . . . a lot of stuff. I - I - when I go to sleep I don't use the bed, I take the blankets and everything and go under the bed and curl up there, because it's - it's easier not to hear them. They're so loud, and my mom always ends up crying, not sad crying but the kind of crying that happens when you're really, really angry, you know? And my dad always ends up breaking things, all the pictures and glass things in our house are broken now. I don't know how much longer they're going to - today my - my dad, he s-said that he didn't want to b-be a part of this family anyway and he packed a - a bag and he left and my mom shut herself in her room and I didn't know what to do so I came here because I didn't want t-to stay there anymore - "

Kei reached out again, patting him gingerly on the shoulder. "This is why you skipped practice?"

"I - yeah, I know it doesn't make sense but - I started to be scared that if I wasn't there, I'd come back one day and neither of them would be -" Yamaguchi stifled a sob. "And they used to fight before too, but never so badly, and it was only after I came home with a bad wrist from receiving - you remember right, two weeks ago or something - that they started - that it got so bad - so - skipping practice - I thought maybe - at least it wouldn't make things worse if I was home earlier - but I shouldn't have, right? It didn't help in the end, he left anyway, and Coach would have - did he -"

"Don't worry about Coach," Kei said, looking away for a moment. "He's not mad. Don't worry about missing practice, either. You just - I just got a bit - worried, I guess. You like volleyball, you've never skipped before. So I wasn't sure what to think."

The watery smile Yamaguchi gave him was somehow worse than any of his sobs before.

"Thanks for worrying about me, Tsukki," he said quietly.

Kei drummed his fingers on his leg uncomfortably. "You don't need to thank me for that. Uh, can I ask - you're not - getting hurt, right?"

"Getting - getting hurt?"

"I mean . . . you mentioned like broken pictures and glass everywhere, so I just wanted to know if anything ever happened to - uh, to you . . ."

"Oh! Oh, no. No, they always send me to my room. They keep me out of the way."

Kei let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Oh. Good. Okay. So, um . . . do you want to stay at my house?"

Yamaguchi blinked at him, eyes and nose both red. "What?"

"I mean, things seem pretty bad, so . . . my mom would, you know. Take care of you. She'll talk to your mom about it. Your parents could sort everything out without you getting scared, and you can go home when everything is settled."

Yamaguchi met his gaze for a few moments - Kei noticed he didn't seem to be crying any more - then turned and looked out over the river, biting at his chapped lips.

"No," he said eventually, wiping the last of the tears away. "I really appreciate the - the offer, but, um. My dad is gone now anyway, and . . . I think my mom needs me with her right now?" He gave Kei a smile that was, at least, more genuine than the one before. "I feel better, actually. Now that I've told you about it. And if I really need to, I can come over, right?"

Kei blinked. Huh. I thought he'd be sure to jump at the chance to get away from his house. I guess I misjudged him. "Uh, yeah, of course."

"Thank you, Tsukki. I definitely will come over if I need to, okay? Don't worry."

"I'm not particularly worried." Kei muttered, digging his hands into his pockets. " . . . Take care of your mom, I guess."

At that, Yamaguchi smiled like he always did, full and bright. "I will!"

Yamaguchi's parents did get divorced a couple of months later, and he never came to stay over at Kei's house during that time. He did come over on the weekends, though, when they watched Super Sentai and played video games and never mentioned what had happened that evening.

At the time, though, in a freezing wind, on crunching grass, Kei learned, for the first time, how it felt to worry about a friend - and how it felt to comfort a friend.

That was the second time.

⸸

The third time, Tadashi recalls, it was Tsukki again. Both of them were twelve, in the sixth grade, and -

- Tadashi knew exactly what was wrong. He'd known before, of course, he'd been there when it happened, but he'd hoped it hadn't hit Tsukki hard enough that - but then Tsukki hadn't turned up at school, and he'd known -

So he took the river road home, and sure enough, once he got halfway down the slope he could see the pale glint of Tsukki's hair against dark wood, where he had curled up and nestled his lanky body in the hollow of the trunk of a particularly twisted tree.

"Hi, Tsukki," he said quietly, sitting down.

" . . . Hi."

They were silent for a long time, long enough that the evening calls of the birds shifted to squeaks of bats, scattered on the edge of hearing; long enough that the rosy blush of the sky faded to deepening twilight, the first stars twinkling down.

"Tsukki."

"Mm."

"Would - would you like me to sing? The Abaranger song?"

Tsukki stiffened, hands tensing around his torso.

"If - if you want," he muttered eventually, the words curt.

The words came easier this time, now that he knew it had helped Tsukki once before - that it had helped him enough to make him sing the same song when trying to help Tadashi. He sang slowly, evenly, trying to make the familiar tone as smooth and soothing as he possibly could.

When the last note had faded from the air, though, he wasn't sure it had worked. Tsukki looked like he might have relaxed a little, but he was still staring at the water, like his mind was somewhere he would much rather it wasn't.

At times like this, Tadashi would ordinarily wait for Tsukki to decide that he wanted to talk. After more than three years of friendship, Tadashi knew Tsukki liked to take his own time to get to things, especially when he was upset. Tsukki never swore or snapped when he got angry, he never blurted out anything on impulse, he never let anything slip by accident. He liked to be in control of what he said and how he said it, far more so when he was emotional.

But Tadashi had never seen him hurt so deeply. The song didn't seemed to have worked, and it was getting later and later and he still wasn't saying anything, and he really looked like he could sit here the whole night, just staring at the water, if Tadashi let him. So he decided to chance prompting him.

"Um - Tsukki?"

"Mm."

"Did - did you talk to Akiteru-kun?"

Tsukki stiffened instantly, shoulders hunching. Tadashi watched him, worried, ready to apologize if he snapped or looked upset, but . . . but he just looked more hurt, more crushed than before.

"No," he mumbled eventually. "He left early for school, and when I got home my mom said he went over to a friend's house to do homework or something. I . . . I waited for a few hours, then I . . ."

"Came here," Tadashi finished quietly. Tsukki nodded, a jerk of the head so slight Tadashi almost missed it.

I . . . probably shouldn't ask where he went instead of school . . .

"Are you, um . . . are you angry with him?"

"No!" The reply was sharp and quick and loud, startling after his previous silence. "Of course not."

Tadashi kept quiet now, watching Tsukki's face, watching his frown deepen, his lips begin to tremble.

"Well . . . maybe - maybe a little. For lying to me. Because I made a fool of myself, boasting about him to - to everyone -" Tsukki's left fist clenched unconsciously in the ground, pulling out a handful of grass, and Tadashi inched a little closer, worry building inside his chest.

"But I wouldn't - I would never tell him that. I get why he said what he did. He was working so hard, and - probably he thought he would eventually become a regular on the team, and by the time he reached third year and knew it wasn't going to happen he couldn't tell me it was all a lie. It's all the fault of that - that stupid club, at that stupid school -"

Tsukki whipped his glasses off and dragged a sleeve across his face, rough and impatient, eyes screwed up tight.

"You know that, anyway," he muttered. "You know how much he worked for it. How much he wanted it."

"Yeah," Tadashi said softly, feeling a swoop of sadness in his stomach. "And I don't think anyone deserved it more."

"No one did," Tsukki snapped. "No one."

They fell into silence once more, broken only by Tsukki's occasional sniffs.

"Is he okay?" Tadashi asked hesitantly, after it seemed like Tsukki had grown a little calmer.

"No." Tsukki hugged his knees closer to his chest, and Tadashi saw something he'd never seen before, something cold and angry and hard, settle into Tsukki's eyes. "He's not. I've never seen him so - so devastated. By anything. Not even when he was in ninth grade, when - when he was arranging the funeral and everything."

Tadashi clasped his hands together, trying not to fidget in his worry. "He'll be okay, though?"

Tsukki shrugged slightly. "I hope so. I'll try to - to help him. If I can. However I can. But -"

There was a long moment of quiet.

"But I - can't trust him anymore."

And Tadashi thought he'd never heard more bitter words.

He didn't know what to say. After a while, he hesitantly settled for, "I'll - can I come over next weekend? If I can help in any -?"

"Help how?" Tsukki said harshly. "By practising volleyball with him, like we always do? You think he's going to want to touch a volleyball ever again?"

Tadashi turned to face Tsukki entirely at that, mouth open in disbelief. "He won't - he loves volleyball! He wouldn't stop playing -"

"He should!" Tsukki yelled, the shout echoing across the water. Even as Tadashi jerked back he saw the tears starting to roll down Tsukki's face once more.

"He should," Tsukki said, his voice breaking as he wiped his tears away again. "If someone as good and - and dedicated as him couldn't make it - he shouldn't bother with it any more. It's not worth it."

Tadashi didn't know what to say. He'd never seen Tsukki so angry, so hurt, and probably nothing he could say would help. But he had to say something, even if it didn't help, he had to try -

Tsukki didn't give him the chance, though. He got to his feet, hunching his shoulders, and Tadashi caught sight of that - that hard, disquieting something, too much like broken glass - in his eyes once more, and was suddenly more worried for Tsukki than for Akiteru-kun.

He scrambled to his feet too, reaching out desperately. "Tsukki, wait!"

Tsukki looked back, eyes red.

"Are you - will you be okay?"

The glint of the glass, cold and angry, receded a little, and Tadashi watched it go with a clutch of relief so strong it surprised him.

"Yeah," Tsukki muttered after a moment, looking away. "I will be. It'll just - just give me some time, okay?"

"Okay," Tadashi said uncertainly.

Tsukki took a few steps forward, then stopped.

"Yamaguchi - thanks."

And he walked back up the slope, towards the harsh streetlights, leaving Tadashi thinking -

- thinking that he was slightly reassured, but that Tsukki had looked too cold (his mouth too thin, his hands too tight, his eyes, oh, his eyes too bright with the glint of broken glass) as he turned away for his worries to be erased.

Until then Tsukki had hardly ever interfered in anything that didn't involve him. It wasn't that he had been unsure of himself or anything, but if it didn't affect him he wouldn't butt in, simply because he didn't see why he should. It was a trait Tadashi had understood well and taken for granted over the years. And so he was shocked, to put it mildly, when, a week later, Tsukki had sneered at Naoki - class bully, king of gym class, snatcher of all delicacies from the bento box - out of nowhere, when Naoki had just been laughing with his friends. Naoki had been as dumbstruck as the boys who had been bullying Tadashi in third grade, and when he'd slunk off Tadashi was sure he'd seen a hint of tears in his eyes.

And the shards settled, sharpened to perfection by Tsukki, so that it became the first thing people saw about him. Tadashi had hated it because Tsukki was so much more, so much better than that, so much more than honeyed words and a cutting gaze, but he had never been able to change it . . . so he learned to live with it, and even managed to snicker along, after a while. Besides, Tsukki was only like that to the people who really deserved it.

But there was always a small part of him that hated it, that wished the cutting edge would disappear entirely and never come back, instead of vanishing occasionally, when Tsukki really smiled.

It never did.

And his smiles grew rarer, too.

That . . . was the third time.

⸸

The fourth time, Kei remembers, it was Yamaguchi. Kei had gotten into Todaiji for junior high, and Yamaguchi had ended up at Kaishin. So for the first time in the four years since they'd met - and for the first time in six years - they had gone to different schools. It had been in their - second year? Yes, their second year, eighth grade, and -

- well, Kei thought as he leaned on the railing, he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.

He sighed softly, pulled back the hood of his jacket, and hopped over the railing onto the grass.

Yamaguchi didn't hear him coming, only looking around when he sat down right next to him.

"Oh! Hey, Tsukki!"

"Hey. Haven't seen you in a bit."

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that." Yamaguchi smiled apologetically. "Kaishin is really strict about submission dates, and I was really behind on my homework, so I needed a bit of time to catch up."

"Hm." Kei scanned his face. "Are you free on Saturday, then? We could go to the arcade, we haven't been in some time."

Yamaguchi's gaze flickered away. "Uh, I'm still not caught up on everything. There's this project we have to do in science class, to be submitted on Monday, and I haven't even started."

"Oh. Okay."

"Sorry, Tsukki. Maybe after a while?"

"Sure. It's fine."

Yamaguchi turned to look back over the river, which would have tipped Kei off instantly, if everything else hadn't. If Yamaguchi was really okay, he would be chattering nineteen to the dozen right now, about school and class and people Kei couldn't care less about. He definitely wouldn't fall silent.

Kei sighed to himself, running a hand through his hair.

Okay, this is what friends are for, right? Just say it, the longer you take, the more awkward it'll get.

"Yamaguchi."

"Yeah?"

"Do you . . ."

He gritted his teeth as his voice trailed off.

Stop. Stop it. Don't think of it as embarrassing. Just say it.

He took a breath, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. "Do you need me to - uh, you know, the Abaranger song?"

Perfect. That couldn't have sounded any more awkward if I'd tried . . .

Yamaguchi stared at him for a moment, expression blank. Kei noted, with horror, the glimmer of rising tears in his eyes.

Oh man, what did I do wrong -

But the threatened tears didn't fall. Yamaguchi only sniffed quietly and blinked them back, saying, "How did you know?"

Kei shrugged. "You were acting weird. You . . . don't look happy."

Yamaguchi snorted weakly, sounding more pathetic than defiant, and hugged his knees close to his chest.

"So . . . is that a yes?" Kei asked, hoping - with more than a twinge of guilt - that the answer was no.

"No - no, I'm good. It's not that bad," Yamaguchi mumbled. "Thanks, though, Tsukki."

Wow, really? He said no?

Kei gave him a careful look. "Still bad enough for you to come and sit out here on a cold evening."

"S'not that cold."

Kei suppressed a snort at the weak denial, saying instead, "But it's still bad?"

Yamaguchi pressed his nose to his knees, arms clenching tighter. Kei watched the first of the tears spill over onto his cheeks, and sighed softly, settling in to wait.

It was around ten minutes later that Yamaguchi managed to mumble, "It's like - going to school every day is like - I feel like I'm going to throw up on the bus, every morning. It's like stage fright, but way, way worse, because when you have stage fright it's because you're scared something bad might happen. I know something bad will happen. It always does."

"Bullies?" Kei asked, as gently as he could manage.

Yamaguchi sniffed, wiping at his face. "Yeah."

"As bad as third grade."

" . . . Not yet."

"Hm. Don't let it become that bad, then."

"It's easy for you to say, Tsukki." Kei blinked at the watery glare Yamaguchi gave him, mildly startled. "You've never been bothered by people like this. Being - being cool comes so easily to you."

Ke opened his mouth to deny that immediately - how exactly was he cool, anyway? Because he never paid much attention to what other people thought or said about him? Because he'd never been afraid to speak his mind? - but an old memory flashing into his mind made him pause.

It had been - maybe three years ago? There had been some incident at Nii-chan's school, something small, but he'd upset someone else . And his mom had said, looking more stern than she usually did, "You can never judge anyone else by your standards. It's the rudest thing you can do, assuming they can do what you can and never thinking twice about their limitations and fears. They're different from you, and you're different from them. You need to be considerate, always."

Kei closed his mouth, rethinking his response, and finally said, "I guess people don't really bother me like that, yeah. It's not impossible for you to make them stop messing with you, though."

"I can't, I'm not - I'm too -"

"No, I think you can."

The firm tone seemed to give Yamaguchi pause. He glanced over, meeting Kei's gaze for the first time in a while.

"You - really think so?"

"Yeah," Kei answered, ignoring the wobble in Yamaguchi's voice. "Guys like these pick on people who they know will react - people they know they can force to react the way they want them to. You don't have to yell at them or anything, or get into a fist fight, to make them stop. You just need to stay calm and collected. Make them think what they say doesn't affect you."

"That's not easy when they seem to find something wrong with me in every - something to make fun of in everything I do, in how I look -"

"I know," Kei said, cutting off the rising sob in the words. "I'm not saying it's easy."

They were quiet for a moment before Yamaguchi said, "But you think I can."

Kei nodded.

"I don't know how, though." He sounded helpless, but not hopeless, which was, at least, better than before.

"I can help you out?" Kei said, and he couldn't quite stop it from coming out as a question. "Like, uh . . . look, just come over to my house for the weekend. We'll figure something out, we'll try to think of things you might be able to do when stuff like this happens. And . . . I don't know, you can practise them by imagining I'm the bully or something."

A corner of Yamaguchi's mouth quirked up, just the slightest bit. "You want me to practise - what, yelling at you?"

"Standing up to me, not yelling at me," Kei said, giving him an annoyed look. "And not me, the guys who - look, if you think it's stupid -"

"No!" Yamaguchi lifted his head, still looking pretty anxious, but with his mouth softer than before, curving upwards. "No, of course I don't, Tsukki. I'll definitely come over on the weekend."

"Sure you don't have to work on that project?" Kei muttered, a little more snarkily than he'd meant to.

Yamaguchi went red, but he didn't look hurt. He . . . actually never looked hurt, whatever Kei said to him.

That's . . . huh. Wow. I never noticed that before. How did I never -?

"No, you know I was lying about that. I mean, I do have a project, but it's almost done." Yamaguchi fiddled with his shoelaces a bit, ducking his head shyly. "Thanks, Tsukki. You're the best."

Kei snorted, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks were. "Sure. Till then, don't - don't let them get to you, okay?"

Yamaguchi smiled a little, eyes now faint pink instead of red. "Okay."

"Okay, then."

Right, so that's handled . . . Oh, right, Nii-chan will be home from college this weekend. Would it be a good idea to ask him about this? Probably not, I guess, but -

"Tsukki?"

Kei looked back at Yamaguchi. "Yeah?"

"When - when we get to high school, are we going to - can we - I mean -"

"Same school?" Kei asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah . . ."

"Yeah, of course."

Yamaguchi really lit up at that, uncurling and sitting up straight with a happy grin. "Okay!"

Kei gave him a flat look, but couldn't quite stop his own mouth from twitching. Yamaguchi, unfortunately, caught the movement, and only grinned wider.

"Hey, Tsukki!"

"What?"

"Wanna sing it together?"

Kei blinked. "What?" Is he serious right now?

Yamaguchi leaned forward and gave him a pleading look, all wide brown eyes and pouting mouth.

For the love of -

"Please?"

. . . oh, what the hell.

"Fine," he muttered.

Yamaguchi made him sing it three times, but, oddly enough, Kei found he didn't mind as much as he thought he would have.

That was the fourth time.

⸸

The fifth time, it was Yamaguchi again. It had been a day or two before they started school at Karasuno. Kei had been walking home from the convenience store, nikuman and shrimp chips and onigiri that was probably stale jostling each other in the bag in his hand, headphones clamped around his ears. Night had fallen maybe half an hour before, and when Kei had glanced out over the river, he'd caught sight of a glint of light among the bushes. He'd seen it and -

- slowed down, frowning a little. The light wasn't too bright, given the distance, and it was the artificial, too-harsh glow of a smartphone. What really caught his attention, though, was the face the light was illuminating .

Kei tapped a finger against his leg, eyes on the light as he considered whether to go or not. His cousins were at home right now, they'd had come over for a few days - the food was for them, so his mother would be expecting him back soon.

But Yamaguchi was down by the river.

Kei glanced at his watch. Given how noisy the house had been before he'd left, no one would expect him back for at least another twenty minutes. Maybe thirty.

Hopefully that's enough time to sort out - whatever is bothering him.

It was the rustle of the plastic bag that alerted Yamaguchi. He turned quickly, tilting the phone so he could see who was approaching, and Kei squinted, the sudden glow making his eyes ache.

"Don't do that," he said, setting the bag down and seating himself as he slipped his headphones off.

"Oh, sorry, Tsukki." Yamaguchi tapped the power button, and the light disappeared. "What are you doing outside? I thought your cousins were at home."

Kei held up the bag in answer. "They wanted stuff from the convenience store, and I volunteered. It was too loud, with all of them there."

"No cloth bag? I thought your mom insisted -"

"Yeah, I forgot to take it." Kei's vision was back by now, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he scanned Yamaguchi's face, searching for hints as to what could have driven him out here. If his dad had dropped by on one of his rare visits his eyebrows would be pinched with worry; if his overworked mom had snapped at him one too many times he would be trying to stop his mouth from trembling; and if something had upset him he would be blinking more often than usual. He wasn't doing any of that . . . but he was tapping the ground in a restless rhythm, and the set of his shoulders was tense with nervous energy. Something was worrying him, then - not too serious, because then he wouldn't be talking so easily about cloth bags and his stupid cousins, but insistent enough to make him leave his house in search of peace of mind.

"Ah, okay. Hopefully she doesn't yell your ear off for that!"

"Probably she will," Kei said, shifting so he was sitting more comfortably. "So why are you out here?"

Yamaguchi's shoulders tensed further, but he answered with a fair assumption of nonchalance. "It's just a nice night out. I thought it would be good to sit outside and enjoy it for once."

"Yamaguchi, you live in a house with a pretty big garden. If all you really wanted was to sit outside, you wouldn't have come all the way down to the river."

"It's not that far," Yamaguchi countered, the words just a little too fast, a little too unsteady. "Maybe I just wanted to sit by the river for a bit."

"Maybe." Kei turned to look at him. "Is that really the only reason you're here?"

Yamaguchi held his gaze fleetingly before his eyes shifted down and away.

"Well - no."

Kei made a non-committal sound, gaze steady on Yamaguchi's face.

"But it's nothing really bad, I swear. I just - I just had a lot of thoughts stuck in my head. I couldn't stop worrying, and eventually it kind of became like - I don't know, like it was sucking me in. So I thought sitting here might help me sort my mind out."

Kei couldn't help frowning a little. Yamaguchi had a tendency to worry, of course, and he could zero in on the worst possible scenario in a situation like a dog scenting a bone, which usually ended up in him fretting about it until Kei snorted about how unlikely it was and told him to keep quiet. But Yamaguchi was entirely aware of that, and he had been trying to learn to cut off anxious trains of thought before they got too troublesome. And as far as Kei knew, he'd been succeeding. His last year at Kaishin had been spent reasonably happily, despite the stress of entrance exams - especially the entrance to Karasuno - and despite the fact that he'd only just managed to stand up to the people bullying him the previous year. So for him to say that the anxious spiral had been insistent enough to force him to seek a quieter place to deal with it was not reassuring.

It was also not reassuring that he didn't seem to have succeeded.

"What were you worrying about?"

Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his head, looking both hesitant and sheepish. "Stupid stuff, Tsukki. Not really -"

"If it was enough to make you come out here, it's not stupid."

There was a brief silence.

"What Karasuno is going to be like," Yamaguchi admitted eventually, staring at the ground. "Like, the people, and - you know -"

"You managed last year, though, didn't you?" Kei said, frowning slightly.

"Well, yeah, but it wasn't exactly pleasant, and . . . it took time before I could . . ."

"But you won't be alone this time."

Yamaguchi glanced up, something soft and surprised and nervous in his eyes. "I know, but I figured you wouldn't want to - I mean, wouldn't it be - for you to -"

"Just say it, Yamaguchi," Kei sighed.

"You wouldn't want to be burdened by me!" Yamaguchi blurted out unhappily. "Just because I'm too weak to take care of myself - that doesn't mean you should have to - it shouldn't be your job to take care of me!"

Kei tilted his head a little, giving him a blank look. "Like it ever would be."

Yamaguchi blinked, uncertain.

"You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. And what do you mean, weak? You managed before -"

"Yes, but I was - I couldn't -"

"That doesn't matter!" Kei snapped, mildly. "It doesn't matter how scared how you were or how long it took you. You did it, didn't you?"

"I -"

"Didn't you?"

"Well, yeah -"

"Then that's all that matters. And you're being stupid if you think I'd rather stand by and watch than help you out if you need it."

"But it would be a bother for you!"

"Probably." Kei shrugged, placing his hands behind him and leaning back. "So?"

It's still worth it, idiot.

Yamaguchi blinked at him, and then smiled like he'd said it out loud, bright and surprised.

Kei huffed softly. "Is that all you were worrying about?"

The smile faded a little. "Um. Also about . . . volleyball?"

"What about it?"

"Are - are you going to apply for the volleyball club?"

Kei couldn't stop his mouth from going flat, but he nodded.

"Even though -?"

"It's not the same as back then. They aren't a powerhouse anymore. And I'd be stupid to try for another club, instead of the one that's actually doing something I'm familiar with, just because of what it was like some eight years ago."

"So it's a matter of convenience, huh?" Yamaguchi's gaze was surprisingly sharp, searching Kei's face.

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "Pretty much."

"Okay . . . and - do you want me to -?"

"Do you want to?"

"I guess, yeah, but Kaishin didn't have a volleyball club, so -"

"If you say you're out of practice, you're going to buy me cake at that new cafe every Saturday afternoon, all through high school, to make up for the last three years we wasted practicing together."

Yamaguchi snorted a laugh, and Kei couldn't help smiling slightly as well.

"Okay, I won't say that. Sorry, Tsukki, I guess I just worry too much about this kind of stuff. I'm still not a particularly powerful player, though."

Kei shrugged. "It's not like we're going to be trying to win a world championship. You still have fun playing, and that's all the reason you need to join the club. Besides -" He hesitated for a moment. "No one else spikes my tosses as easily as you do."

Yamaguchi grinned, the happy glow in his eyes clear even in the dim light from the waning moon. Kei looked away, fighting the urge to rub the back of his neck.

"Okay, Tsukki! I won't worry about this any more. And - thanks!"

"No problem," Kei muttered, starting to get to his feet. "I'll see you at school, then."

"Wait!" Yamaguchi stretched a hand out to stop him. "What about . . .?"

Kei gave him a disbelieving look. "No."

"Come on! We always do it!"

"All the more reason not to do it now."

"Ahh, Tsukki, it's like a tradition by now, come on."

"It's stupid. We're not ten years old anymore."

"Well, so it's nostalgic! Like a bit of our childhood!" Yamaguchi's teeth gleamed in the dark when he grinned. "And you can't say you don't like it."

"I don't," Kei said halfheartedly.

Yamaguchi faked a gasp, clutching his hands to his chest. "You can't mean that, Tsukki! Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger is the most timeless of the Super Sentai series, and the theme song is the best -"

"Ugh, fine!" Kei groaned. "But I'm not singing it. You can do it."

He ended up joining in anyway, eventually. Damn Yamaguchi and his weird knack for getting Kei to do things he didn't want to do . . .

His mother wasn't too happy when he got back late, but he kind of thought it had been worth it.

That was the fifth time.

⸸

Hitoka hums to herself on her way home, face tilted up to the dark sky that's just beginning to fade to a rich purple. It had been a good day at school. She'd done well on the three tests, Ono-sensei had praised her essay in front of the whole class, and practice has been going really well the whole week. Okumura-kun is picking up a lot in record time, Suzuki-kun is now nearly as intimidating a middle blocker as Tsukishima-kun, and she rather thinks that Akiyama-kun and Serizawa-kun are in mild danger of picking up on Tanaka-senpai's habit of ripping his shirt off after a particularly good spike, given how much time and effort he's been putting into teaching them.

The only thing nagging at her is that Ayane insists - has been insisting for a day or two - that something is a little off with Tsukishima-kun. Hitoka herself can't really see it, but then again, volleyball practice, loud and distracting and quite grueling, is not exactly the best place to try to decipher Tsukishima's expressions, which pretty much only switch between focused, bored, and mildly disdainful at the best of times. If she were in Tsukishima and Yamaguchi's class, she might be able to tell . . . as it is, she flatters herself that she knows him fairly well, and she can't see much difference in him.

Hitoka pauses at a junction, tapping one foot lightly in contemplation before turning to the left. She has time, tonight, what with her mother being on a work trip and it being a long weekend; she only needs to cook for herself, and she has all of tomorrow to do her chores. She can afford to stretch her legs, take the scenic view home tonight.

And it really is scenic. The sun is still spilling light up from below the horizon, as if reluctant to allow night to fall, and the river is glowing in gentle shades of gold and pink as it flows on its way. The clump of trees planted so long ago has grown and spread, so much so that it's a favoured haunt of children looking to play hide and seek. Hitoka smiles as she gazes down at it, remembering happy evenings spent with old friends there, evenings pervaded by a content innocence she wouldn't mind having once more.

It's as she's following the line of the riverbank along to where it curves inwards, forming a pool by the stand of trees, that she catches sight of a seated figure, dark against the rippling water. At any other time, she would look away and hurry on her way, assuming it to be someone waiting for their partner to show up for a clandestine meeting, or maybe a college student home for the summer break, sneaking a cigarette or something stronger than beer, but now her feet are slowed by a gentle bolt of recognition.

She hesitates for a minute or two, one hand on the cool, metal railing. There's a lull in the traffic, and the wind is blowing her way, so she can catch a snatch or two of his soft voice (maybe he's on the phone?), and she's more sure than ever it's who she thinks it is. What she's uncertain about is heading down to talk to him. The thought of spending some time sitting next to him, just the two of them, on the bank of the river, maybe having a conversation that helps them get closer and know each other better than before, sends tingling butterflies ricocheting around her stomach.

She shakes her head and buries her face in one hand, trying to wipe a smile she's sure is singularly silly off her face.

You can do this. Yamaguchi will be happy to see you, he seems to enjoy spending time with you too, right? Don't be like a lovestruck girl in some shojo manga, come on.

She takes her time as she walks down the slope, half hoping Yamaguchi will finish his phone call before she reaches him and half simply because she's enjoying the feeling of the springy grass under her feet. The air curling off the river is cool and fresh, alleviating the sticky heaviness of the sky before a storm, and she drinks it in in deep, heady lungfuls, thinking, not for the first time, how lucky she is to live in such a pretty corner of Japan.

The butterflies have grown milder by the time she touches the first tree trunks, subdued by the quiet peace that surrounds her, but they return in full force - stronger, harsher, no longer of pleasant anticipation - when she hears what Yamaguchi is actually saying, when she realizes he's looking down and to his right, and has no phone held to his ear.

"- do it anyway? Even if you say it won't help."

The soft question hangs in the air, and is met by an answer as flat as it is clipped.

"If you want."

She knows that voice well too, and now she realizes that Tsukishima is stretched out on the ground, glasses placed neatly to one side, arms folded under his head, gazing blankly at the darkening sky.

"Okay, Tsukki." Hitoka can hear the smile in his voice, the smile she never fails to admire for how endearingly, unselfconsciously encouraging it is.

And then he tips his head back, and starts to sing.

It's the first time she's ever heard him sing, and she can't help stepping closer to listen. The song, she recognizes vaguely, from having a Super-Sentai mad cousin who had insisted they watch it practically day in and day out whenever she spent a vacation there. And his voice - the way he sings is -

Oh . . . my god.

It's beautiful.

. . . She really is in way too deep.

The way he sings is the way he laughs, bright and comforting and inviting. She listens for a minute or so, and then can't help taking another step forward, heart pattering faster than usual as she strains to listen.

Wait, but I shouldn't - I'm intruding, I shouldn't be -

It's just as she thinks that, though, that his glance happens to fall on her. He falters, stumbles over a word, briefly enough that Tsukishima doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are a little wider now, though, and he keeps glancing back at her as he works through the verse.

Hitoka can feel a confused blush rising to her cheeks. What should she do now? Back away and hope it won't be too embarrassing when she tries to explain tomorrow?

Yamaguchi's gaze becomes steady on her as he reaches the last chorus, and suddenly she knows that leaving isn't an option. It just feels too . . . cowardly, she thinks, is the word. But she can't lurk here in the shadows of the trees either (though she'd like to, oh, how she'd like to just stay here and listen to him sing the whole night). So she steps forward hesitantly, trying not to interrupt the song, trying not to disrupt the soothing atmosphere it's conjured around them.

Yamaguchi looks like he's on the verge of a smile, but his eyes flicker between her and Tsukishima with more than a hint of anxiety. Tsukishima looks startled when she steps out of the shadows, pushing himself up, his expression quickly settling into something smooth and a little hard.

Hitoka winces slightly, sliding her bag off her her shoulder as she sits down on Yamaguchi's other side. She knows that expression on Tsukishima's face - he's practiced it often enough, and what he hides behind it is never good. She saw it quite a lot at the training camp in Tokyo, last year, though she hadn't known him well enough to decipher it.

Now, she does. She thinks he likes her, in his own way, but she isn't entirely sure, primarily because she wants him to like her - in a different way from Yamaguchi. With Yamaguchi, it is that she has a quite hopeless crush on him, and so wonders if he thinks as well of her every gesture and action as she does of his, wonders if he pays as much attention to her as she does to him, wonders if he likes watching her as much as she likes watching him. She hopes - embarrassingly desperately - that it is so.

With Tsukishima, it is that she respects his intelligence, the consideration he hides under a sharp tongue and a cool gaze, and knowing that he respects her at least half as much as she respects him is something she would love to know and would not be able to bring herself to believe, for fear of making a fool of herself by wishful thinking. But she's talked to him quite a bit, spent more than a year around him, seen him sleepy in the morning and worn out in the evening, seen him trying to hide a smile when something goes wrong in the clubroom and flushed with furious victory at a perfect block, seen him exasperated when Hinata and Kageyama are more dense than usual and irritatedly off balance when Noya-san or Tanaka-san slap him cheerfully on the back.

So now, she is almost entirely certain she is intruding on something, interrupting something, she is the cause of the closed-off expression on Tsukishima's face. But she's only now sat down, she can't just get up and leave immediately.

I'll stay for a bit and leave as soon as I can, so I won't be intruding. Ahh, I should have left as soon as I realized Yamaguchi-kun wasn't alone! Next time I'll be sure not to barge in like this.

Yamaguchi hits the last, high note with only the mildest trace of self consciousness, and Hitoka almost wants to applaud. His voice fades quickly, echoing across the water, and a heavy silence falls. On Yamaguchi's right, a little way away, Tsukishima now has his arms looped loosely around his knees, and is watching the river like he'd been watching the sky, earlier.

Hitoka's gaze settles on him for a long moment, then flickers back to her own hands, which she doesn't seem to be able to keep still. It is too painfully obvious she is out of place. She glances at Yamaguchi, and hesitates when she sees he's looking back at her too.

"I'm sorry," she says, softly, impulsively. "I'm intruding, aren't I?"

Yamaguchi looks a little surprised, and gives her a mild grimace that is tending towards a smile.

"Not really, Yachi-san," he replies, lowering his voice almost to a whisper so that Tsukishima does not hear. "It's just that - this has kind of, um, become a thing Tsukki and I do? Whenever one of us is worried or upset about something, we come and sit here."

"Oh, I see. Um . . . so something is worrying Tsukishima-kun? I'm sorry if I shouldn't be asking - if it's private - just, Ayane-chan also mentioned she thought something might be bothering him? So -"

Yamaguchi laughs softly, one hand settling at the back of his neck, fingers buried in his hair. "It's not like you shouldn't ask, Yachi-san . . . but right now he hasn't yet told me what's been worrying him."

Hitoka looks past Yamaguchi once more, and when she sees Tsukishima's bright-amber eyes gazing directly at her, cool and blank, she feels a jolt that seems to wake all the nervous butterflies once more. He looks like he's heard exactly what Yamaguchi said, and is almost daring her to try and ask him anything.

And he doesn't seem likely to say anything to Yamaguchi-kun either, since I'm here, she thinks despondently, once more considering how soon she can leave.

Yamaguchi interrupts that train of thought with a quiet exclamation.

"Oh! And, um, about the song - I'm sure you must have thought it was weird. That kind of became a thing we do, too. It's, um, soothing, I guess?"

"Soothing?"

"Mm, yeah, to both of us. Because of the familiarity, I suppose." He grins, bright and sheepish.

Hitoka valiantly ignores what that does to her heart rate, instead chancing another glance at Tsukishima. He's looking back over the water again, mouth compressed.

"A soothing song, huh . . ." she mumbles to herself, not meaning for Yamaguchi to hear, but he does. He looks back at Tsukishima, then gives her an interested look.

"Which song would you pick? If you had to?"

She blushes, now worried about her answer failing to meet his expectations.

"Um . . well . . ."

She quickly takes in Tsukishima's hunched shoulders, his tight hands, the line of his neck as his head droops forward a little; and the perfect song strikes her. Still she hesitates, and Yamaguchi sees that.

"I'd like to hear it, Yachi-san," he says, soft and encouraging. "The Abaranger song didn't work tonight, so if there's anything else that could . . ."

It didn't work because I'm here, Yamaguchi-kun! she thinks despairingly. But he's waiting, expectant - and Tsukishima is huddled, unnaturally silent, and she hates seeing him like that - so she takes a breath and opens her mouth.

"K-kimi ga, akirameru toko, ukabanai kedo . . ."

Her voice is shaking a little, uncertain, and she looks to Yamaguchi for his reaction immediately. Will he agree with her choice? Or will he think it's stupid, not at all likely to work, and think the worse of her for it? Will Tsukishima himself ignore it? Or even condemn it?

Too late she realizes that neither of them might even know the song, and nearly stops singing entirely at the mortification and dejection that sweeps over her. But then -

" . . . nani mo nai, nasekanai, tteiu hi mo, arun deshou," Yamaguchi sings, eyes sparkling a little as he grins down at her. He makes a go-on motion with one hand, and Hitoka smiles back tentatively, a gentle glow of comfort stealing into her stomach, beginning to dissipate the tight knot of discomfort settled there.

"Jinsei, ne ichidou no yo wa, douryoku no shoukan wo . . ."

They sing the whole thing together, gradually growing louder, more carefree, more absorbed in the cheerful notes and uplifting words. Yamaguchi is the first one to turn away and look up at the sky as he sings, and Hitoka follows suit. It's - freeing, and mildly dizzying, and rather more exhilarating, singing up into the infinite purple-dark velvet of the sky like they're the only two people on the planet. All background noises, all car horns, distant chatter of pedestrians, the occasional chittering of an early bat or the low croak of a late crow - they all fade to nothing. All there is, is her voice, and his, and the murmur of the river, and the stars glittering far above. It's with a strange sense of loss that Hitoka sings the last line, the last word, stretching it out as long as she reasonably can.

" . . . Datte atashi no herooo!"

Yamaguchi lapses into quiet giggles as soon as they're done, and it's so infectious, Hitoka can't help joining him. They trail off, though, when she abruptly remembers that the song was meant to help Tsukishima, meant to ease his mind, and she hastily leans forward to peer around Yamaguchi, daring to hope it might have helped a little but not too optimistic -

- and is pleasantly surprised to see a faint, amused smile playing about his mouth as he looks at them, most of the tension gone from his frame.

"Was that supposed to be addressed to me?" he asks.

"Um." Yamaguchi looks sheepish, and his "I guess - maybe?" coincides with Hitoka's hasty "Not exactly!"

The three of them look at each other for a long moment. Then Tsukishima snorts, and Yamaguchi chokes on a guilty laugh, and Hitoka struggles to keep her insistent giggles down - which makes Tsukishima actually chuckle, which makes Yamaguchi slap a hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter, which - well, suffice it to say that the earlier silence does not return to the riverbank for some time.

When it does, it's hardly a minute or two before Tsukishima sighs, resting his hands behind him and leaning back. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than usual, without the usual lazily sardonic edge. It's something more genuine, more soft.

"Thank you, Yachi-san. That . . . helped."

Happiness tinged with pride swells in Hitoka's chest, and she's smiling in a way that's more hopeful than she means it to be. "I'm glad to hear that, Tsukishima-kun. I don't want to - you'd know best, of course, but - would talking help as well? It always helps me when I get what I'm worrying about out of my head and out in the air. And if I might be able to help in any way! Of course, if you'd rather it was only Yamaguchi-kun - I could leave, that's not a problem -"

Tsukishima's eyes are bright on her for one beat, two beats, three, as she falters. He shakes his head, slow and slight.

"I don't have a problem with you being here, Yachi-san. I . . . appreciate your offer to help, as well. But what's been worrying me isn't really - it's not a big deal. It's kind of trivial. It's kind of you to say you're willing to listen, but when you hear it you might think it's . . . it's not worth your time."

"I would never!" Hitoka exclaims, shuffling forward so she can see Tsukishima without Yamaguchi's knees getting in the way. "I would never, Tsukishima-kun. If it was important enough to make you come here in search of peace of mind, it certainly isn't trivial."

There's a flash of surprise in his eyes, and Yamaguchi is suddenly wearing a grin that's unusually delighted.

Tsukishima clears his throat, shifts his gaze. "I - thank you. It's not particularly - it's nothing major, it's just - "

There's a brief silence. Hitoka waits, with Yamaguchi, as Tsukishima tries to find and gather the words he needs. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair briefly, glances at them and looks away.

"It's silly, I just - I'm worried. About - about what high school students are usually worried about, college, career, building a life in general, I suppose. Like I said, it's not really major. It's just - I feel - directionless? Clueless? About the future." He huffs a laugh, short and humourless. "And I'm not really used to feeling like this, so - so uncertain of myself. And there are other things - I've been falling behind a little in classes, exams are next month and there are too many concepts I'm not entirely comfortable with, and -" He gives Hitoka an austere look that's only slightly softened by a barely discernible twitch at the corner of his mouth. "And, Yachi-san, Kabakura-san is quite frankly not making my life easy in the least."

Hitoka blushes, immediately resolving to remonstrate with Natsuki as soon as she possibly can.

"And . . . yeah, that's about it. I know it's not -"

"It is, though!" Hitoka says, leaning forward even more. "I - I know how that feels. The future, and worrying about a career and everything, and the expectations parents and people have of you, even though they might not mean to pressure you. To me, it's kind of like - a black hole? Pulling me in? And I can't make it slow down, or escape it, which, um, makes me feel really weak and unsure of myself. I really hate it when that happens."

"It feels like you're alone," Yamaguchi interjects quietly. "Alone, and off-balance, and trying to hold up a weight that's crushing you."

"And then, with everything else to worry about on a daily basis - tests and homework and projects and the cultural festival -"

"And the volleyball team."

Hitoka grins. "And the volleyball team. All of that piled on . . . I eventually end up feeling the universe is just trying to sabotage me."

Yamaguchi hums in agreement.

"Is that . . . accurate, Tsukishima-kun?"

Tsukishima looks at both of them, surprise and a hint of something else, something that Hitoka hasn't seen in him before, in his gaze. "That's . . . yeah. That's kind of exactly . . . yeah."

Hitoka nods. "I, um, definitely won't tell you how you should deal with it? I mean, it's not my place to . . . but for me, talking it out always helps. And, um -" She does her best to make her smile more encouraging than sheepish. "I'd - be willing to listen? If you need me to?"

Yamaguchi concurs with a hum again, softer than before. Hitoka can only see the part of the side of his face, given where she's seated and the fact that Yamaguchi is turned to face Tsukishima, but she sees that something else from before, something small and vulnerable and grateful, spark brighter as Tsukishima glances at Yamaguchi.

"Thank you," he says, ducking his head a little. " . . . Both of you. I will. If I need to."

Hitoka can't help grinning now, muted happiness and satisfaction singing through her, now that Tsukishima is okay and she did well and -

Yamaguchi turns to her, smiling his irrepressible smile in thanks.

- and at the fact that he and Yamaguchi worked together to help him.

"By the way," Tsukishima says, resuming his customary poise, stretching his long legs out so that the infant waves in the clear little pool lap just short of his shoes. "I didn't know you were an anime fan, Yachi-san."

The moment pops like a fragile bubble, and like a bubble, it conjures up delighted smiles, leaving behind fading rainbows to hang in the air.

"Ah, right! I was surprised you knew that song, Yachi-san."

"H-hey, it's a nice song! And it's a nice anime, too! Shiori-chan recommended it to me, and she almost never watches anime, so I figured it had to be good . . ."

"So are you keeping up with it? Did you see the latest episode?"

"Oh my god, I did! It was so cool when, um, um, that part? When Todoroki and Izuku -"

"Oh, yes yes yes, he froze like half the stadium, right?"

"Yes! And Izuku, oh my god, I couldn't even watch, he was breaking his hands over and over again, does he have no sense of self preservation?!"

Yamaguchi laughs, and a quiet chuckle from Tsukishima floats over his shoulder to reach her.

"I really don't think he does," Yamaguchi grins. "So who's your favourite character?"

"I can't choose one! I mean, they're all so cool in their own way."

"I know, right? For me, I think it'd be maybe Jiro? She's really cool! Though she doesn't get much of the focus. Tsuyu is amazing too. Or maybe Todoroki . . . what about you, Tsukki?"

Tsukishima rests his chin on his knees. "Well, Bakugo is always entertaining to watch -"

Hitoka and Yamaguchi laugh together, voices floating out over the water.

" - but I think I'd say Uraraka."

"Uraraka?" Hitoka echoes, surprised. Uraraka is not the character she'd have pictured Tsukishima admiring.

"Ahh, yes!" Yamaguchi exclaims. "She's so awesome! Her fight with Bakugo was so incredible, it was my favourite part of the sports festival!" He glances at her, looking mischievous. "She kind of reminds me of you, Yachi-san. Right, Tsukki?"

Tsukishima nods, mouth quirking up. "She does, yes."

"Hahh?! Me?" Hitoka's hands flutter agitatedly. "I'm not even remotely like her!"

"Of course you are! Really nice, and supportive, and fun to be around, and encouraging, and cu-" Yamaguchi chokes and falters, colour creeping up his cheeks. "C-comfortable with helping people out! Um!"

Hitoka fights the urge to bury her face in her hands, entirely sure it's red enough to be seen from across the river. Tsukishima sighs and seems to be stopping himself from rolling his eyes with considerable difficulty.

The moment passes quickly, thankfully, and Hitoka loses track of how long they sit there together. At one point, Yamaguchi somehow convinces them to put their feet in the little pool, despite the fact that all manner of crawling or slimy things are probably floating or hatching in it, and that inevitably progresses to a splash fight that Tsukishima manages to resist joining for all of two minutes. Yamaguchi, Hitoka reflects as she dodges a particularly accurate shower with a laughing yelp, is surprisingly unscrupulous about using Tsukishima's competitive nature against him. She also realizes that Tsukishima, when he's truly uninhibited, can be just as childish as Hinata or Kageyama at their worst.

I'm - I'm kind of honoured he's letting me see that, she thinks joyfully, doubling over laughing when Tsukishima triumphantly dumps a handful of slimy moss on Yamaguchi's head and Yamaguchi yelps frantically as his slides down the back of his shirt.

It's only when Yamaguchi's mother calls, asking where he is, that they realise the time. Hitoka gets to her feet first and automatically holds a hand out to pull Yamaguchi up before she can think the better of it. But he takes it, easily negotiating the balance between giving her too little of his weight and making her making her take too much of it, and (kindly, Hitoka thinks, a little flustered) does not comment on the absurdity of her offering to pull to his feet a boy who is a good foot taller than her.

They walk up the slope together, she and Yamaguchi making a game of hopping between shadows of the scudding clouds that promise a heavy shower. It's like something has been tugged loose inside her, and playfulness and mild giddiness and a tendency to giggle too often have all come spilling out, infecting her as well as the other two.

She really, really likes it.

They part at the second junction down the river road, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima turning left while she continues ahead. She waves, and they wave back, Tsukishima politely, Yamaguchi enthusiastically, before turning away to head home. As she heads to her own bus stop, she has the memory of Tsukishima's tiny smile, (quiet and soft edged, a smile even Yamaguchi only gets to see once in a blue moon, faintly gilded in the late evening light as his stress melted away) and the memory of Yamaguchi's hand in hers (warm and careful with a pair of smiling eyes looking up at her as she pulled him to his feet) to kindle a deep, settled content in her stomach.

And she thinks, as she settles on the bench to wait, smiling as she rests her damp cheek on her school bag, that she would like nothing more than to spend some time down by the river with them again.

⸸

Three days later

Create new group?

Yes

Please choose more than one member to add to the new group

Tsukishima Kei, Yachi Hitoka

Please enter a name for the new group

The Abarangers!

Would you like to enter nicknames for the members?

Yes

Tsukishima Kei - Blue Ranger

Yachi Hitoka - Yellow Ranger

Yamaguchi Tadashi - Red Ranger

Thank you for creating a new group! You're ready to chat now!

⸶⸷ ⸶⸷ ⸶⸷ ⸶⸷ ⸶⸷

Blue Ranger - 18:36 : are you serious yamaguchi

Red Ranger - 18:36 : ^.^

Blue Ranger - 18:39 : why are you the red ranger anyway

Red Ranger - 18:40 : bcuz you don't like the red ranger tsukki

Red Ranger - 18:41 : you say he gets too much attention

Blue Ranger - 18:42 : ugh

Yellow Ranger - 18:46 : Hi! :3 :3 :3

Yamaguchi grins at his phone as he taps out a reply.

He has a feeling this is going to work out really well.

---

A/N: AHHHHH DONE, FINALLYY

Tsukki definitely has a thing for nice sweet pure people like Yams and Yachi, they melt his stony heart. You can't tell me any different.

The river is actually canon! It's not really shown, I don't think, but before Asahi comes back for the match with the Neighbourhood Association he's shown sitting on the grassy bank. I didn't even realize that till I was halfway through the story.

Also I realize that in Japan, like in India, you're six in first grade, seven in second grade, etc etc, but the Haikyuu Wiki gives their ages as a year older? Like the first years are all sixteen and not fifteen, though they're in tenth grade. I went with those ages.

And I know the Haikyuu manga is supposed to start in 2012 so no way they'd be watching the sports festival arc in the BNHA anime, which came out in 2017, in their second year, but. Allow me my indulgence please.

Have I always thought the Red Ranger is severely overrated? Yes, yes indeed.

(He's still overrated btw)

(Also why is the Red Ranger always the leader and always male, that's what bugged me about him the most)

(Anyway)

Yams and Tsukki's dynamic is a bit different with Yachi, and I struggled a bit to put it down. Let me know how it struck you!

(And y'all knew Akiteru's thing was coming, didn't you)

(Did it break your heart)

(If yes, then I consider my mission complete)

(Tsukki's dad was, uh . . . just cuz no one has ever seen him around. So.)

(And do not underestimate the crippling fear of a student facing an uncertain future, it is not fun at all)

As always, I love hearing what you thought, so don't hesitate to give me any and all feedback!