Chapter Forty-Four
Something about being in Tokyo sheds a weird light on Kenma, he can't really explain it but the older boy is definitely acting different. He's even less sure if that's a good or a bad thing, one part of him would like to think it's a good thing, that his protector is making friends and acquaintances, even if that gregariousness only falls onto one other team. Akaashi-san's team, to be exact. On the other hand, Kenma is only talking to one team and it's not his own, or Karasuno for that matter, the older boy dismisses his own teammates and glares at any approaching crows, especially Tsukshima, though Shouyou has a hard time blaming him, he would probably do the same thing if he didn't wither under the taller boy's looks every time. More importantly, he's not sure if he should be prying or not, friends are good for people but ignoring teammates lead to nothing but trouble. They've both had more than enough of that and were about to jump into more. Three weeks. He knows that it's actually less than that, that the training camp was half over and everything would be even more tense when the week ended. Shouyou isn't sure what to do and it's not like he has anyone to talk about Kenma with, besides Kenma.
"Yo!" Light panting sends goosebumps rippling across his entire body, the urge to look up at the person dies down when he catches flashes of dark skin and wiry limbs. "Kuroo." He greets to the older boy's shoes instead of gleaming chopper eyes that hold that sadistic quality that he's been running from since he can remember. "Ah, Shouyou, that's no way to greet someone who's helping you, is it?" Several sets of footsteps stomp past and he's unsure if the emphasis in Kuroo's tone was obvious to anybody but him, "Sorry." He mutters in return, still unable to look at features too sharp and shadowed. "Kenma's looking for you." Kuroo says softly, still deep and still terrifying in the way that makes his heart beat too fast, if it was a trick, it had worked, Shouyou managed a barely there glance over the Nekoma captain's face, saw too much dark skin and gleaming teeth that he ran away before he could think of anything else. A loud chuckle follows him, like barking.
He finds Kenma in the Nekoma room, empty classroom turned into a den of unsettling gazes and messy hair. The older boy is leaning against the wall, same wall panel as the one from the other night. To protect our Shouyou. The words seem from almost nowhere, the cracks in ceiling tiles and carried by stale air blown by too ancient fans, "Kenma?" He asks, drawing the attention of three other boys, one of which is Nekoma's libero, who is still in the habit of staring him down every time they see each other, though he's not entirely sure why. Kenma's blond hair flicks at the call of his name, beeping from his cell phone fades into nothing and he's being beckoned forward by long fingers, "Shouyou." Kenma says and not much else, they had been separated for most of the morning, their teams set up against other ones, though he's sure that's by design instead of a way to inconvenience just them, even if it feels like it. He finds a heartbeat as easily as he finds his way into the older boy's lap, "How was your morning?" The questions seems almost stupid coming from Kenma, the older boy almost too blunt for small talk, "Terrible, I think?" Kenma's nose huffs against his neck but he lets his attention get sucked into the flashing lights of Kenma's cell phone. "My team is... tense, I guess would be the word, like they're really mad." The at me was left off, his voice drying up before he could actually voice the rest of his sentence, Kenma seems to understand it though. "It's uncommon." Maybe not, he thinks, wondering if the older boy had even been listening. "Between us, I mean." Shouyou hums noncommittally, something he's learned through their uncommon something. "My dad's religion says that people of the same gender can't love each other- not like that, anyway." He rolls Kenma's words over in his mind carefully, there's not a response that he finds appropriate. "Do you think that?" He asks, a stupid question to buy time, the older boy's body shrugs against his. "I used to but it was more work to care than not, so-" Shouyou shrugs in reply, "Lazy Kenma." He teases, Kenma just hums in reply, long thumb dragging over his phone screen.
"That's not the truth." Kenma says after an easy silence, the middle blocker holds back a yawn, glances over his shoulder to glance at twitching chin muscles. "About love." Shouyou nods, not sure if he should be saying anything, "My brother was like us, a lot like us, actually." There's a stained amusement that sounds too bitter in Kenma's tone and leaves his tongue feeling sour, "You have a brother?" He's pretty sure that Kenma said he was an only child at one point, "He left us, because of this." Long fingers twine into his own. Love. "He loved someone?" Kenma scoffs, with resignation older than both of them, "He couldn't handle both, being religious and being like us." It's weird, he thinks, that there are people with a relationship like his with Kenma, even if it's not exactly the same. "When did he leave?" He hopes the question isn't too personal or reopens any closed doors. Kenma's body shifts against his, he can just make out a faster heartbeat, "My seventh birthday." The words are simple but Shouyou's more focused on the fact that he doesn't know Kenma's birthday and wondering if it's a good idea to even ask. "When is your birthday, Kenma?" He tries to make the question as light as possible, throwing in a smile that holds too much weight to be held up for long.
"About three weeks from now." Shouyou is pretty sure this is what people call a psychotic break, when you start hearing things that aren't there. "I'm sorry?" Kenma laughs, "Three weeks or so, Shouyou." That would mean? He thinks he knows about Kenma's weird light now, if only just a fraction of the spotlight. "Why?" He asks before he realized he was going to, the older boy's body squirms under his, long fingers find their way onto his stomach, past the thin layer of a practice jersey and he can feel just how warm Kenma's fingers actually are. "I want my birthday to mean something." Shouyou ponders that for a moment, his own birthday had been spent with a clenching gut and chalky rice, it hadn't been a Sunday so his mother hadn't shown up and nobody on the team knew when his birthday was- The middle blocker nods, "I think I get it." And his brother left on his birthday. "How old are you going to be?" The setter had this weird face where he could look anywhere from twelve to thirty, not that he would tell Kenma that. "Eighteen." The words sound odd, laced with pain for a moment before he realizes that it's just him in pain.
Kenma's fingers are on his sides, sliding across closed over scars that spell out too much in a jumbled mess of blackened indentations. "Kenma?" He asks, the older boy going quiet to the point where Shouyou was worried the older boy was still breathing. "Let me see." It sounds like a command as much as a suggestion, a tone he recognizes from his first trip to Tokyo. I don't want people hurting you. Shouyou slides off of Kenma's lap, lets the older boy position him against the wall, Kenma's chest is used as a shield from prying eyes while his long fingers dig at too thin protection. "I-" He's not sure what he was going to say, all thoughts drying up when stale air ghosts over his exposed stomach.
He watches the older boy squirm above him, wringing his jersey with long fingers, angry red spreading across his cheeks. "He did this?" Shouyou wants to pretend that he has no idea what's happening, that this had just been someone else in a Kenma suit, Kenma did not get angry and use that sharp whisper that could cut through anything. The middle blocker nods, wishing he had somewhere to hide but Kenma's hips are pinning his to the floor. Golden irises dart over his skin, leaving traces of ashes because Kenma's gaze is that furious, fingers follow after, half warm and so slow they leave phantom sensations over the scars. "I should-" Kenma stops, a new crease in his brow, "You may not think it, but- But Oikawa needs to pay for this." The conviction in Kenma's tone frightens him, frightens both of them judging from the trembling in the older boy's fingers.
Gritty friction works up his chest, his body jerking in odd directions away from the touch despite his wanting to stay completely still. "You're so-" Kenma's fingers pause over his heart, hands shadowing over most of the exposed skin, "You mean everything to me, Shouyou." He's thankful, for that moment, that Kenma's eyes are on his body instead of attempting to lock gazes. Everything was a lot different than being loved, Natsu had loved him and she didn't know anything about him, his mother had loved him at one point, he thinks, and she had threw him out. Kenma loves him more than that. More than anything, he realizes.
"You're crying." Kenma comments, intense tone still there but in the background of sudden concern, Shouyou drags his arm across itching eyes until his wrist collects embarrassing smears of moisture, "Sorry." He croaks, wondering why not being able to breathe could feel good in any instance. "You don't need to apologize to me, you know that." He nods, Kenma always tells him that, "Sorry." He echoes, wry enough that Kenma sighs, even with the smirk twitching on his lips, lips that are getting closer.
Kenma's eyes are hypnotizing as they approach, precious metals getting bigger and wider until he can feel Kenma's skin pressing against the messy mass of his hair. "Shouyou?" Kenma asks, what was in the background had completely disappeared, Kenma sounds like Kenma again and he's not sure why that makes him sad. "Yeah?" He answers instead of pressing the centimeter that would connect their faces and quiet the world for a second or two. "Promise me something." Promises are not deals. He has to remind himself when his heart starts tripping in his chest, his nod brushes his nose against Kenma's, "Anything." He says, trying to put as much meaning into a single word as he can. Kenma sucks in a deep breath, pulls back only to sink lower, those lips against his ear instead, "When this is over, promise you won't hate me?"
Shouyou almost laughs, in fact, he tries very hard not to laugh, Kenma isn't an idiot, he know that for certain and even with the undertone in Kenma's voice, the question sounds so stupid. "I can't hate you." It's the truth and he thinks if there's ever a right moment to use it, now would be the best time because there was no way that he would tell Kenma something this embarrassing with a roomful of people again. "You should." Kenma says instead of kissing him, "Why?" He questions after a moment of consideration, enough of a pause to make Kenma's hands sweaty against his rib cage. "We're- I planned to hurt someone, Shouyou." Shouyou is inclined to agree, "You said he deserves it." Can recall that instance clearly, the tone standing out the most in the memory, more than the scars and the chilling edge in Kenma's eyes. Kenma nods beside him, their cheeks rubbing together and Shouyou is pretty sure that the slickness isn't from his own skin.
"I-" He tries but a sick noise from Kenma shuts him up almost instantly, the older boy's chest quakes above him and skin jumps from his touch when his fingers land on Kenma's back, trying to rub soothingly, though he's not sure how to do that or if it's working. "You're such a fucking idiot." He says, not for the first time to the older boy, Kenma's body lurches closer to him, a weird rumbling he thinks might be a laugh crawls into his eardrums. "I told you I wasn't smart." Shouyou remembers that, he also remembers every moment where Kenma handled everything perfectly, including him. "You're not really an idiot." He says like it's a compliment, Kenma hums in reply and the warmth is gone. He watches the older boy wipe gleaming wetness from his cheeks and eyes, it's weird, he thinks, to find Kenma's crying attractive but the shining in the older boy's eyes is distracting and amazing, even when it shouldn't be. Kenma makes a noise that couldn't be attractive in a million years then slides off of him, "We should probably go practice or something."
"Kenma?" He asks once they're both standing and he's pretty sure that the older boy grew since they last saw each other, if only a millimeter. Gold plates glance at him, considering him, "Shouyou?" Kenma asks back. He glances around the Nekoma room, at the people attempting to ignore them, "Can I kiss you?" He asks the stupid, stupid question quietly but the flinching from Kenma's teammates tell him that it hadn't been quietly enough. Kenma rolls his lips, like he's considering it then nods but doesn't move, with a roll of his eyes, Shouyou leans onto his toes to press his lips against the older boy's. It's warm and one of them has chapped lips but he's not sure who. "Practice!" He chirps into Kenma's face, bending down to pull on his shirt before he drags his protector away from lazy teammates.
They find Akaashi-san and Bokuto-san in the last gym, the older boys don't seem to notice their arrival and Shouyou leads his protector to the side lines where they catch the tail end of one of Bokuto-san's spikes, so powerful that the empty room echoes with it for a few seconds. He may not be especially fond of Bokuto-san at the moment but he had to admit that the spiker was impressive, he's pretty sure that Kenma thinks so too, even if the older boy is remaining as quiet as he is. "Kenma-san." Akaashi-san says and suddenly almost blue eyes are locked onto them like Akaashi-san had known the entire time, Shouyou thinks he might have, probably. "Yes?" Kenma grunts as informally as possible, only just keeping it a question. "Kuroo Tetsurou is your captain, right?" Kenma nods, eyebrows climbing slowly up his blank face, but Shouyou ignores that and Akaashi-san while panic claws up his spine, ice that feels too hot under his skin leaves him begging for air silently, he knows that even if Kenma couldn't find out, that the older boy would figure out something if he kept having these reactions to just a name. Calm down, he tries to tell himself but it doesn't work. "Tell him something for me, will you?" Kenma nods, a hand moving to settle on his hip like the older boy can sense his panic, Shouyou thinks it might be possible, breathing is just manageable with Kenma's long fingers there but not touching there. "He's a pain in the ass." One of his only thoughts is that that could be literally, that the Nekoma captain could finish what the Seijoh captain started. You're mine now. He doesn't feel like practicing anymore, not with the dragging across his skin or the flashes of light he knows aren't there.
"You okay, Shouyou-chan?" Not-Kenma asks, that realization sets him on edge, closes his body up as much as it makes him crumble, "Yes." He lies, wishing there was enough air in his lungs to tell Bokuto-san never to call him that, but there isn't, so he doesn't. "Practice?" He all but begs, even while he knows that doing that while on the edge of a panic attack would lead to nothing but trouble, there are noises he can't decipher even if he can recognize who they're from. "You should sit down, Shouyou." Kenma says and the middle blocker finds the strength to open his eyes, though he's not sure when they had even closed.
His body is shifted onto the stiff flatness of a bench, he can feel too many eyes on him but he focuses on locking gazes with Kenma long enough to tell the older boy that he's alright. The older boy's reply is laced with skepticism, "Do you want to go lie down, Shouyou?" His head is shaking but the actual feeling is delayed to the point where he wonders if he's actually alive right now. "I'll be fine." He mumbles against inquisitive fingers against his face, there's a nod he can't see but can feel and Kenma takes a step back. "If you need me?" He nods in reply, glad that these are one of the things that hadn't changed since this training camp started. Kenma would help him if he needed it.
It takes him a moment to find the strength to open his eyes again but he's pretty sure that it was longer than just a moment, since Kenma is approaching him instead of walking away but the sweat is more of a giveaway than anything else, "Kenma." He greets as the older boy takes the empty spot next to him, Shouyou finds his head on Kenma's shoulder before the older boy has even completely sat down. "Tired?" Kenma asks and he shrugs in return, not completely sure what's wrong with him at the moment. "Kuroo and- that one are here." Shouyou forbids his body to have a reaction, clenching every muscle until the urge disappears along with Kenma's statement. "That one?" He asks because looking over at the net is more work than he thought it would be. "Your tall- friend?" He's pretty sure he has a lot of tall friends, Noya is even taller than him with his hair up. "Blond." Kenma comments after a moment of silence, "Glasses." After another. "He's not my friend." Shouyou deadpans when he realizes the answer, stupid Tsukishima. "Why's he even here?" Kenma shrugs slow enough for him to feel rather than see. "Bokuto-san wanted to play two on two and I didn't want to play." There's a hum following Kenma's words that makes him think there's more to it than that but he doesn't ask.
"They think I did it." Kenma says instead of what was lingering in his hum before, Shouyou pauses for a second, "Do they?" He asks honestly, everyone was being civil, nice even, nothing to indicate that they had discovered an issue, even one that wasn't there. "Are you sure?" He asks, not disbelieving just shocked, maybe. Kenma nods, "Except your captain and Nishinoya-san." He still thinks it's weird hearing the libero's entire family name coming out of someone's mouth and with an honorific attached to it, unironically at that. "You talked with Daichi?" Kenma snorts sharply, "I talked with Daichi, alright." There's amusement in the older boy's tone that drains all of the humor from his entire body. "You didn't tell them?" He asks, attempting to sound as casual as possible despite the terror gripping at his entire body. "No." Is the answer but it doesn't help, too many scenarios where the team finds out everything.
"Why didn't you?"
"Why didn't you?"
He supposed that he walked right into that one, it wasn't Kenma's job to tell them everything, anything really. "I'm not sure." He says, even when he's sure that Kenma wasn't looking for an answer. Kenma shrugs again, lifting his head with a warm shoulder until the court in front of them almost looks like it's on the ground again. "I don't want them to hate me." It's half a lie and the older boy catches it almost instantly, "And?" He prompts, Shouyou isn't sure how to answer even if he knows the words, "You don't want anyone to get hurt." Kenma provides for him, he nods. "It's more than that." The older boy says eventually, "You don't want anyone to get involved." He's not sure if that means anything, he's involved with his team everyday. "If they don't know, everyone is going to get hurt, Shouyou."
Shouyou stands and Kenma follows like a shadow, his fists are shaking as he tries to look at any place where the older boy isn't. "I said yes!" He screams into the void between them, Kenma takes a step back and Shouyou barely makes out the sound of the older boy's legs colliding with the solidness of the bench over the echoing hiss of his own words. "I said yes." He says, quieter, polite as the conversation should have gone. Then he says it again, and again, and again until his throat is too sore to continue.
"You didn't know." Kenma says, like it's supposed to mean anything. "You didn't know what you were getting into. You're not supposed- It's not supposed to hurt when you're with someone, Shouyou." He's not sure he's ever heard Kenma yell at him before and they're drawing the attention of the people in front of him, can feel Kuroo's gaze like it's putting a physical weight on his skin. The setter in front of him is red in the face, with eyebrows clenched so hard his skin is twitching, the frown, he thinks, is the most distinctive until he finds his eyes trapped under Kenma's, molten gold that makes him wish he could sink into the floor and never come up. "I'm sorry." He offers, even when he knows that that is the opposite of what Kenma wants to hear. "Nobody deserves to get hurt, especially you, you idiot." The word is like a slap- no, more like a punch and he can almost feel the sting that shouldn't be there.
"Why?" He hisses back, every word he's been trying to bury is squirming to the surface. Slut. Whore. Freak. Mine. Kenma growls at him, like a wild animal, long fingers messing with his hair until he looks the part as well, "You got kicked out of your home, dealing with mental issues, with nobody there and you want to know why?" Kenma's voice, the gravel that he likes is digging into his skin with each word. "You." Shouyou says, taking his own step back until he can't feel Kenma's breathing against his skin. "What?" Kenma asks, fury dropping a fraction to be replaced with confusion, "I had you." Shouyou answers, letting the weight of everything slide off of his skin as he says that, he feels lighter but barely. "You said I had nobody." He clarifies and Kenma's face drops into blankness.
"I wasn't there, Shouyou, you hurt yourself because of me." Kenma's voice is a whisper, he's grateful for that, even if the setter is the one being the idiot now. "That wasn't your fault." He says the truth, grateful for once that it's easy. "It's not your fault." Kenma echoes. Shouyou laughs. "Then it's nobody's fault." Not-Kenma says and they both turn to look into Bokuto-san's gleaming smile, the golden eyed boy too close all of a sudden. It strikes all of a sudden, like lighting up a stove, that he and Kenma had been yelling, that the stares were from actual people. People that just heard everything, had been exposed to all of his worst thoughts, some of which are still echoing around the empty gym. "Shouyou-san?" Akaashi-san is now looming over him, face scrunched up as it is smooth, the honorifics are back and that drives home how much he's messed up. "It's just Shouyou, Akaashi-san." He corrects, feeling both terrified and the emotional equivalent of chewing on cardboard, not exactly sure how to describe nothing with words. "Sorry." Akaashi-san says without meaning, the same reflex that he has himself, he attempts a smile at the older boy, a barely there thing that feels like more trouble than it's worth. It's not returned and he's not sure why he was expecting otherwise.
Bokuto-san is still staring at him, eyes that look more orange than golden in the shadow of wilting hair, "Bokuto-san?" He asks when he's built up enough nerve to address the older boy, the smile returns, a set of knives and gleaming in a way that he's only found in Tokyo, "Shouyou-chan." Bokuto-san says, Shouyou doesn't let himself react to the honorific or anything tied to it, good or bad, lets that cardboard feeling take over until he can just ignore everything except his reply, "You didn't hear anything, did you?" Another smile, one that doesn't belong to him even when he feels the stretching of muscles in his cheeks. "Uh-Uh-" Bokuto-san splutters, looking like he might need to take a step back, a large hand envelops an equally large bicep and makes the older boy look almost shy. "Sorry?" Bokuto-san echoes, though Shouyou isn't sure why. "Did you, Bokuto-san?" There's a gulp, the other male's impressive Adam's apple trembling as it bobs, Shouyou traces it until it stills. "No?" Shouyou nods, lets himself sink a little easier in his shoes.
He doesn't even look at Kuroo, something telling him that the cardboard in his mouth would catch on fire and he'd explode into nothingness if his gaze locked onto chopper irises. Instead, he walks away from the gym and away from the ghosting footsteps that he can't quite place to a specific person until that person decides to place a hand on his shoulder and turn him around, it's not Kenma but the person is blond; he's almost surprised by Tsukishima's height, only because he hadn't been expecting it, "What the hell was that?" Also surprises him, if only because of the suddenness of it instead of the dangerous tone. He hums in reply, makes a feeble attempt at brushing off a too heavy hand but the fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulders when he squirms. "What are you talking about?" He asks, cardboard tone in place and feeling more infuriated than he has any right to be. "You were acting like a complete psychopath to Bokuto-san." Tsukishima growls, Shouyou is pretty sure he's imagining this scenario, where a too tall middle blocker is correcting him on his etiquette in an almost civil tone.
"I know we're not friends," The blond's tone is so full of scathing that Shouyou is surprised that his tongue didn't fall right out of his mouth, "But we're teammates, even if you do suck." He thinks that last part might be an attempt at a joke, crude Tsukishima humor that Yamaguchi would snicker at, "You need to take control of whatever is going on with you and focus on the team instead whatever." Shouyou isn't sure what to make of the words, as progress of Tsukki's dedication to their team or something else entirely, ever since he had met the taller boy it had been nothing but endless droning on how playing was a waste of time. "You're different." He remarks, not sure what else to say. "For the better, unlike you." Tsukishima replies, Shouyou can't find it in himself to retaliate because it's as close to the truth as it can get. Grand King had changed him in sick, disturbing ways, more than just scars on his skin something more that can't heal with fizzing disinfectant and gauze.
"Do you think Kozume-san-"
"Kenma" He corrects, Tsukishima rolls his eyes.
"Do you think Kenma would want you like this? Acting pathetic?"
Crying already? Pathetic. Shouyou doesn't let it affect him, Kuroo is still too close and the older boy looks like he can smell his fear, "You think at this point you're worthy of being on the team?" He's not sure he's worthy of anything at the moment, if at all. "Our team is supposed to be their rivals and right now, you're our weakest link." There's a sneer, one he's familiar with even if he isn't with seeing Tsukishima's face this close, "Are you really that desperate for someone to love you? That you'd drop your dream to have Kozume wrapped around your little finger?" He makes a shove at the taller boy before he can help it but Tsukishima doesn't budge, "All those little marks and skipped practices, it must have been pretty good, right?" He bristles but doesn't respond, which is enough of a cue for the taller boy to continue, "I think I see what's going on." The amusement in Tsukishima's tone suggests otherwise but Shouyou doesn't make an attempt to quiet him, doesn't make an attempt at anything really.
"You want to make the King jealous, that's it, isn't it?" Tsukishima is laughing before he even finishes his sentence, something too bitter to be human and Shouyou lets him, "You're wrong." He says when the laughing won't stop and the bugs around them start to buzz in irritation, "Hardly, I'm never wrong." A dangerous smile, arced teeth that reflect like steel under the moon, it would be menacing on anyone else, he thinks, weird on Tsukishima's oblong face. "It's pretty wrong of you to use Kozume like that, you know."
His next action is decided, he thinks, before he even knew the words that Tsukishima was going to say. There was too much tension in the air and Shouyou snapped before he could grab onto the pieces and hold them together, it's odd, he realizes when his fist is making its way towards the face of his teammate, that he doesn't really not care about Tsukishima says; as a teammate, he's alright, as a friend, he's something, not that he values Tsukishima's opinion at all or anything. There's a truth, a realization, that hits him when his knuckles collide with the awkward angles of Tsukishima's jaw, that he may think of the taller boy as something a little more than a teammate but most certainly not a friend, that's enough for him to drive his fist even faster into the taller boy's face until the grip on his shoulders forces him towards the ground as Tsukishima falls.
"You know nothing." He hisses, snarling like a raccoon or a really scary cat, he forms his own grip on the other boy's shoulders now that he can reach them, fingers that feel too numb digging into a damp t-shirt until it wrinkles under him. "It's not like that!" He remarks, feeling frustrated that working around the truth is harder than it should be, "Oh? Then maybe Kozume is using you?" There's another truth, though it explodes so quickly in his head when his forehead collides with Tsukishima's nose, "Kenma doesn't use me!" He shouts, using his arm to wipe the weight of blood and sweat off of his face.
"Then who is?"
"Grand-S-"
Everything freezes but doesn't, he can still feel, more so now that Tsukishima has that smirk under a blood nose and crooked glasses, the bugs are still buzzing, louder and he thinks that Tsukishima's stupidly long body might have crushed one of their homes. They should probably move before they're swarmed but Shouyou can't make any of his muscles respond, there's too much something blocking the signal to tell his body to move. "Shouyou-" Tsukishima says, quiet now and smile gone. He wonders how long he's been frozen for. "It's okay." The gloating tone is gone, along with the sarcasm and Shouyou has his answer. Too long. He's pretty sure Hell would freeze over before the other middle blocker would comfort him.
"How long?" He asks.
"Since the prelims." Shouyou replies, somehow unable to resist answering the questions, like some part of him wants Tsukishima to know, even if he really, really doesn't.
"Has he?" The question is blunt but not completely there, open to interpretation his Modern Literature teacher would say.
"No." He replies instead of almost or not yet.
"You should-" Tsukishima falls quiet, Shouyou thinks he should be happy, making the taller boy confused for once.
"Tell someone?" He deadpans.
Tsukishima laughs.