here just some of the many reasons why i love the shiratorizawa boys so much:
the trust the team has in ushijima and the trust ushijima has in them in return (“i can toss to him whenever and he will not let me down”/“you will see that we never weaken”)
DORMS. they probably spend more time around each other than any other team
they are attached to their jersey numbers, they all picked their training bibs in s4 to match their official uniform
ultimate in-game support of each other
like seriously - one of them: scores
the rest, immediately:
don’t even get me started on all the “nice receives” everyone calls out constantly
(including shirabu. pls do yourself a favor and count how often he calls out encouraging things from off-screen you’ll be surprised by how high the number is)
they are a team of individuals. no one is required to hold back for the sake of someone else, everyone is always able to give it all they’ve got - even when it comes to mundane stuff like going for a run
apart from yamagata (who’s mainly responsible for receives) very few of them wear kneepads
even shirabu and semi who don’t seem to have the best relationship and aren’t in the same grade are still in contact with each other after the time skip
the little team meetings they sometimes have on the court
i kinda hc that coach washijou encourages these team meetings?? his current concern is that “it seems to him that there are now fewer students who are independent thinkers” so it would make sense for him to let them work on their own strategies (with some guidance of course)
tendou with everyone else: creepy, borderline cruel
tendou with the team: unconditional support
none of them were happy or relieved when tsukki had to leave in the middle of the match bc of his injury despite tsukki having blocked ushijima. they are good people
like half of them went pro after the time skip! they all genuinely love volleyball so much
the lowkey crush admiration everyone has for ushijima
not ashamed to cry when they lost
ushijima: makes a mistake
ushijima: turns to apologize to goshiki
all of the third years adore goshiki in general, it’s super cute
goshiki adores them too! in s4 he never hangs out with the other stz students but the moment his upperclassmen are back? he’s right back with the squad
don’t forget ;
pairing: kei tsukishima x f!reader
warnings: slight angst
summary: after suffering a head injury, you find yourself confused as to who the man with the scowl on his face is.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Kei Tsukishima has never liked hospital rooms, and he’s quite adamant in his belief that he never will.
But just because he doesn’t like them doesn’t mean that he’s going to let his distaste for them stop him from staying by your bedside as much as he’s allowed to.
There’s a bunch of monitors attached to you, keeping track of your heartbeat and other vitals, but all Kei really cares about is the fact that you’re still alive, and the fact that you’re no longer in pain, and so he pushes aside the discomfort of the hard chair that the hospital provides for guests. He’s slept here, in that God awful seat, for the past two nights. You didn’t wake up, but you were still breathing, and that’s what counts.
The doctors say that it’s normal for you to be unconscious for the time being. He’s not sure if this reassurance is false and that they only said it so he wouldn’t have a mental breakdown, but he did his own research and got confirmation that this was perfectly normal.
There’s a knock on the door, and it opens without Kei having to get up. It’s not a nurse, because most of the nurses had too many people assigned to them, and they couldn’t/wouldn’t waste time on such a useless formality. Instead of a hospital worker, it’s Tadashi Yamaguchi. His freckles are more prominent underneath the ugly yellow fluorescent lights of the hospital, but Kei’s not in the mood to bring up middle school insecurities even though he knows Tadashi is more than capable of handling the teasing now.
Tadashi closes the door gently, not like it matters much. You’re not waking up anytime soon. In fact, maybe slamming the door shut would trigger something within you.
“Hey,” Tadashi says softly, because Tadashi Yamaguchi has a tendency to do everything softly. His brown eyes are surveying the dismal hospital room. Kei’s jacket is hanging off the back of the chair that has served – and will continue to serve – as his bed until further notice. Like most rooms in the hospital, it’s fairly sterile and has that constant smell of lemon scented disinfectant and bleach. He crinkles his nose at the overwhelming smell, but Kei’s gotten so used to it that it’s not much of a bother anymore. He doesn’t notice it. Kei doesn’t notice much these days.
“Hey.” Tadashi says more firmly this time, and that seems to snap his blond haired best friend out of whatever trance he was in. Kei’s golden brown eyes are narrowed in concentration for a second until he realizes who this blurry figure standing by the door is.
“Oh, hey.” He’s looking around for his glasses. He must have taken the damn things off whenever he went to sleep–
“Here.” Tadashi seems to know about his search, and he reaches into the jacket hanging behind him, holding out his black frames. Kei takes them gratefully, glad to see everything in a sharper focus now.
“How is she?” Tadashi asks, in an uncharacteristically low voice, almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll wake up and get annoyed at him for being too loud.
“Everything’s fine.” Kei replies back. It’s the same vague answer that the doctors and nurses give him, and now he’s spewing it back out to his friend, who doesn’t mean to be a bother, but Kei really cannot bear having to deal with consoling himself and someone else.
“She wouldn’t want you to waste away on a foldable chair.” His best friend’s voice is still soft and low, but it’s firm and has an edge of steel to it, like he’s made up his mind about what he just said, and there’s no chance of anyone getting him to take it back.
“How would you know what she would have wanted?” Kei doesn’t mean to snap, but his words come out sharper than he intends for them to be. Tadashi doesn’t look hurt, but there’s a nagging thought in Kei’s mind that Tadashi is his friend, and he’s just trying to be supportive, and that perhaps he should stop being such an asshole, but he really can’t help it right now.
“I think you’re forgetting that I knew her longer.” And now’s not the time for teasing, but the half-hearted attempt at a joke lessens the growing tension between him and Kei, and for a moment, the blond male’s facial expression softens just the slightest.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“Yama!” You’re jogging over to where Tadashi Yamaguchi and a particularly tall blond haired boy. You don’t know the tall boy, not yet anyway, but who he is isn’t your biggest concern right now.
You’re clutching a piece of paper in your hand, and as you slow down to a brisk walk, Kei’s perceptive eyes take note on how you’re holding onto that paper like it holds the secrets to the world or something. He watches you with that slight bit of interest he watches everything else with.
“Yama! I got in!” You giggle excitedly, waving around that sacred piece of paper.
“No way! That’s great, [L/N]!” Tadashi is equally ecstatic, and Kei’s sort of annoyed at the fact that you’re holding up his walk home, but he has to admit that he’s sort of curious about what could possibly get you two so worked up.
“[Y/N]’s gonna be the team manager!” Tadashi exclaims, explaining the situation to Kei without him even having to ask.
“Well, just as an assistant to the current one they have.” You add, and you sound a little disappointed that that’s your only role, to serve as a mere assistant, and Kei bites back a comment about how you’re only a first year (he automatically assumes this due to the fact that you’re friendly with Tadashi and no upperclassmen in their right mind would bother being friendly with him), so what did you expect? To be running the whole team from the get go?
“Hmph. It’s only volleyball club. No need to get so excited.” Kei says flatly.
Despite his lack of enthusiasm, your eyes are still shining brightly with optimism and there’s a dimple that appears whenever you smile. You chat with Tadashi for a few more minutes before waving both of the boys goodbye.
“I’ll see you guys at practice, I guess!”
On the walk home, Kei hopes he sounds as uninterested as possible whenever he asks, “Who was that girl?”
But there’s a sort of flicker of genuine interest and not just natural curiosity in his best friend’s golden eyes, and Tadashi notices this. He bites back a smile as he answers.
“[Y/N] [L/N].”
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
You don’t get a lot of visitors. Both of your parents had passed prior to the accident, and the first wave of visitors were friends from high school and college who had their own lives to tend to.
For Kei Tsukishima, you are his whole entire life. It’s why, on the rare occasion when he does remember he needs sustenance to stay alive, he forces himself to eat the hospital cafeteria food. He much rather prefers your cooking, not like he would ever admit it out loud. It’s fine, though. He’s so numb to his surroundings at this point that he hardly notices how the hot food burns his tongue, so processing the taste (or lack of it) is out of the question.
It’s been a week now. You should be waking up soon. That’s what the doctors say. That’s what his friends say. That’s what everyone says.
But you’re not really the type of person who’s very good at following schedules, and so he’s not surprised whenever you don’t wake up.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“You’re late.” Kei’s voice is flat, as always. His face has that annoyed scowl on, as always. And you’re still smiling, as always.
Granted, it’s a sheepish one right now, and Kei wants to roll his eyes at it, but he can’t quite bring himself to do so.
“Sorry!” You say. You don’t mention that you’re only two minutes late, and that it’s not you’re fault that you had to stay back in class because everyone was walking out the door so slowly. He’s doing you a favor right now, and your classmate, Yamaguchi, told you that he’s not the type to do favors, so you should be very grateful and try not to get on his bad side.
“Okay.” He says, in his usual flat tone. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but he has this perpetual look of annoyance on his face at all times, so it’s hard to discern his true feelings at times.
All you really know about him is that he’s in a college prep class, which makes him fairly smarter than you, and you need all the help you can get when it comes to understanding English literature.
“So, volleyball practice seems to be getting better.” You’re trying to start a conversation, but the scowl on his face deepens.
“I don’t see why you would care. It’s not like you’re going to be one of the people on the court.”
If he’s hurt your feelings, you don’t show it. You’re silent for the rest of the walk to the library though, and Kei somehow comes to the conclusion that it’s because he sounded like a dick, but he refuses to apologize.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
For the next two days, you show no sign of waking up. The doctors’ and nurses’ stares sometimes morph between pity or annoyance – usually the former, but Kei’s not the easiest person to be around, and he’s snapped at a few of the staff already.
And then, when it’s been one week and three days since you’ve been unconscious, your eyes flutter open.
You groan softly as you try to adjust to the brightness of the room. You feel a little sore, like you haven’t moved in quite a bit, and your body’s trying to remember how. A quick assessment of your surroundings and the low beeping sounds of a heart monitor are good indicators of your location: a hospital. You hate hospitals.
Your groan is the first sign that you’ve woken up, and even through his groggy state (sleeping on a chair is hardly comfortable, so Kei’s been going through a perpetual state of tiredness and extra crankiness), Kei is alert and ready to call for help. He knows where the call button on the side of your bed is, but first, he has to make sure that his disgruntled and restless mind isn’t playing tricks on him.
He scrambles to get closer to your bed, ignoring that damn foldable chair that he’s certain is the bane of his existence, and opting to crouch down so that he’s only slightly taller than you.
You can barely turn your head to face him, but your [E/C] eyes are slowly coming back to life. Your eyebrows are furrowed together in confusion, and you’re biting down on your lip.
“You’re awake.” Kei Tsukishima’s never been the type to state the obvious because there’s no need to (there’s a reason why it’s labelled as being “obvious”), but he’s at a loss for words right now, so he settles for sounding like an idiot.
Kei Tsukishima has also never been one to smile, but you’re one of the select few who’ve managed to peel through the many layers and complexities that hid away his true character, and the fact that he’s smiling so wide and so big is a sign that you’re one of the few – if not only – person who has managed to make him this vulnerable.
It’s because of this fact that makes his heart shatter whenever you look up at him and ask, “Who are you?”
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
He slams down hard on the call button after that.
A nurse comes rushing in. He moves to the side.
A doctor comes in. And then another one, too.
He leaves the room and stands out in the hall.
His mind is spinning. Lack of sleep and food could do that to a person, along with getting hit in the head by a volleyball or spinning around in a circle for periods of time.
He can’t think clearly right now. And it’s destroying him from the inside out. His mind is who he is, and it’s crumbling all around him. It’s all because of you, and he’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. He’s not a fan of doing either, but he’s on the verge of both, so who knows at this point? Certainly not him.
You looked at him like he was a complete and utter stranger, and Kei Tsukishima’s never been one to act so overdramatic, but he’s quite certain that you just broke his heart. To make matters worse, you’re not even aware that you just did.
After what feels like an eternity but in all actuality was barely twenty minutes, the nurse exits out the room. She looks to the side and sees Kei, and the look directed at him is one of pity. The nurse has mousy brown hair and big doe eyes, and she has one of those expressive faces that reveal every single emotion she feels. He vaguely remembers her being one of the select few staff that he had snapped at, and he’s on the brink of snapping at her again but bites back any rude comments. Just because he’s hurting doesn’t mean he has to make someone else hurt, too.
“I’m sorry.” She says meekly, and it sounds more like a squeak than actual words, but Kei notes her bravery because he’s certain that he looks like he’s about to murder anyone in his eyesight. He doesn’t say anything, which is better than him shouting at her, he supposes. She runs off after he doesn’t say anything in reply.
The first doctor walks out without so much as a second glance at him, and Kei’s thankful because the last thing he wants is more unrequested pity. And then the last doctor walks out, and this one is looking directly at Kei.
“Mr. Tsukishima?” The doctor has graying hair despite not looking that old, and Kei wonders if premature graying is a common occurrence in all young doctors.
“Yes.” His tone is sharp, and he’s returning back to his former self. Or, at least, the former self that the outside world is accustomed to. He’s building himself back up now. He’s straightening his posture, and his golden-brown eyes are drying and sharp now, taking in all of his surroundings.
“There’s good news and bad news.”
“Naturally.”
“The good news is that your girlfriend has recovered fully, and she’s going to be ready to get discharged by tomorrow afternoon.” Kei blinks, and the doctor’s unsure if this is an appropriate response, but when Kei doesn’t offer up anything more to the conversation, the doctor continues. “The bad news is that she’s currently suffering from retrograde amnesia, which is completely understandable considering how hard her head was hit during the accident. Now, before you start worrying too much, this can fade overtime. Her memories can and most likely will return eventually, but for the time being, she’s incredibly disoriented and confused, and I think attempting to force her to remember certain memories may just hold back any potential progress. Now, I make no promises that this isn’t a permanent case, but do…”
The doctor’s speech is nothing but background noise as Kei blinks hard. Amnesia. Potential permanency. You forgetting about him forever.
He does a decent job of holding in his tears until the doctor shuffles away. Kei’s always been good masking his true emotions, usually opting to hide away his actual feelings behind a scowl. He’s good at scowling, so he’s doing it right now. It’s better than breaking down in the middle of a hospital’s hallway.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“You did good.” You hand Kei his water bottle, and he frowns at you because he might be sweaty and sore, but he’s perfectly capable of getting his own drink, thank you so very much.
He snatches the yellow bottle out of your hand and makes sure that you see his disinterested stare. You’re nothing if not persistent, and lately, you’re one of the only people who aren’t immediately deterred by his icy attitude, a feat which is both mildly impressive and completely annoying.
“You know, you don’t seem very happy with yourself.” You say, and it’s the closest thing to criticism that you’ve ever given him, and he doesn’t say anything back, so you continue on. “I mean, Tanaka and Hinata have no problem with cheering themselves on whenever they play well. It’s not uncool to be satisfied and proud of yourself.”
Kei puts down the bottle and stares at you like you’re something stuck at the bottom of his shoe and cannot get rid of. “You think you’ve got me figured out, huh? Why? Because you watch me play volleyball for an hour everyday? Because I help you with reading passages?” Kei leans down, just the slightest, and the small shift in space between the two of you seems to be even more exaggerated. “You don’t know me in the slightest, [L/N]. So maybe you should just leave me alone, yeah?”
Kei’s surprised when you don’t automatically back down. He’s said some pretty harsh things before, but this statement is purely mean and partially uncalled for. There’s a glint of steely resolve in your usually bright eyes, and you lock eyes with him as you reply back.
“Not a chance.”
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“How do we know each other?” You’re sitting in a seat at a table in a kitchen located in an apartment that’s supposed to be yours but doesn’t feel familiar at all. The ride home from the hospital had been silent and suffocating, the tension between you and this mysterious blond man being so thick and nearly hostile that it was practically palpable. It’s that question that’s the first thing you’ve said to him all day, and the second overall thing you’ve spoken to him.
The first question had crushed him, and this second one packs a punch too. Kei refuses to look at you as he opens up a cabinet and stares blankly at the contents inside. It’s filled with spices and teas that you bought because Kei doesn’t care much for grocery shopping, so it’s always been your task to do so. He understands that it’s not technically your fault for not remembering him, but he’s a little pissed that you can recall stupid things, like your phone password, but nothing of true importance, like him, for example.
He’s been given a list of possible triggering things to do or say that might jog your memory and help hasten your memory recovery, but he’s also been told not to force or rush anything. You’re still in a fragile state, and Kei’s never been one to handle easily breakable things with care. But you’re you, and he’s so in love with you that he has to make an effort to be kind and soft, all for you. It’s all for you, every single thing he does.
And he knows that it’s selfish of him to think this, but he’s been with you since you two were teenagers, and the least you could do was try to remember him. You two have spent so much time together that it was nearly impossible for a head injury to just erase every single trace of him from your mind.
“You seriously can’t remember?” His voice is hard, and this man is a stranger to you, but you can hear the underlying hurt in his voice that breaks your heart. Was he a brother? A close friend? Something more?
“No. I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never seen you in my life before.”
Kei laughs. It’s a short and bitter bark, the type of laugh that’s devoid of all humor and life.
“That’s funny.” He says, in a tone of voice that indicates that he does not think anything about this situation is remotely funny whatsoever.
“I’m sorry.” You say again.
“Don’t be.”
There’s another moment of silence, and you’re hesitant. Your eyes travel around the apartment, and you catch sight of a picture frame sitting on a coffee table in the living room. You get up to get a closer look at it, and Kei watches you move from the corner of his eye.
You grab the photo and curl up on the couch with the frame clutched in your trembling hands.
It’s a picture of you and Kei from college graduation. He’s not smiling, but you are, and your smile is so big and bright that it makes up for his lack. Even now, with your memories foggy and few, you study his expression intently. His eyes are golden brown, but they’re mostly gold in this photo, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the sunlight or a filter or what, but you decide that you like the color of his eyes. Despite his stoic expression, one that stands out in a sea of smiling faces blurred out in the background, there’s a sort of brightness in his golden eyes that seems to call out to you. You’re standing awfully close to him in this photo, and he has an arm wrapped around your waist.
Now Kei’s sitting down on the couch, leaving a one person space between the both of you. You set the photo down and stare at him. His eyes are more brown now, but there are flecks of gold in them. Judging by the photo and the fact that the hospital was fine with him taking you home, you knew that you two were – are – close.
“What am I to you?” Your eyes are searching his for any sort of answer, but his lips are pressed, and he shakes his head.
“You tell me.”
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
It’s your second year of high school now. Kei’s grown up – mentally, physically, and even emotionally. All of his changes are subtle, but changes nonetheless.
It’s why he’s sitting down with you on the steps of an empty gym instead of walking home, even though it’s getting colder and darker as minutes pass by. Your first year of friendship hadn’t been smooth, but you two were friends whether he liked it or not. (He does not like admitting that you are friends, but it’s pretty obvious that he respects you and considers you a mutual.)
“Why are you crying outside?” Kei refrains from adding in ‘like an idiot’ because he thinks it’ll only make you cry harder, and he’s not very adept at dealing with emotional teenage girls.
“Shut up.” You say, but it’s hard to take someone seriously whenever they have snot and tears all over their face. Your cheeks are red, but he’s not sure if it’s from the cold. He’s not one to give pity, but he has to admit that you look pretty pathetic right now.
“What happened?” And he’s serious right now. He’s not looking for material to tease you about (unless you’re overreacting, in which case, he will be a complete ass), but you’re his friend, and he cares.
Lately, Kei’s feeling like he cares a little too much about you. It’s only natural that he would be concerned for his friend’s wellbeing, but even he has to admit that this is borderline obsession. He likes it when you smile and hates when you cry. He likes teasing you and watching you blush, but making you turn red gets harder and harder because you’re always getting more comfortable around him, and with comfort comes a stronger shield from embarrassment. You share your lunch with him and vice versa. He enjoys spending time with you, but lately, you’ve been getting tutoring sessions from someone else, and Kei highly doubts that the boy you’re getting lessons from is smarter than him, which he tells you, and you just smile and shake your head. Tadashi says that you have a crush on this boy, and Kei pretends like his stomach doesn’t twist at the sound of that, but he’s pretty sure Tadashi notices anyway and just chooses not to say anything about it.
“You’ll think it’s stupid.” You mumble.
“I only think stupid things are stupid.” He says, and that comment manages to make you smile, which he adores, but your cheeks are still stained with tears, and you’re wiping off some snot with a raggedy tissue that looks like it’s seen better days and cleaner noses.
“That boy who’s been tutoring me… I told him I had a crush on him, and he rejected me.” You don’t look at Kei, which is a good thing because Kei doesn’t look too happy upon hearing this information.
In all actuality, he’s not sure if he hates the fact that you had a crush on someone that’s not him, or the fact that said crush is a complete idiot for not returning your affection, or the fact that he’s mad that you have a crush in general.
And Kei’s not stupid. He knows now why he hates when you cry and loves to see you smile. Why he constantly goes through the trouble of reviewing basic English literature problems with you. Why he’s going to miss a hot dinner because he’s wasting time sitting down on these steps with you. The dinner will be warm when he gets home, but only if lets you walk home alone, and it’s much too dark for you to be walking home alone, so of course, he’s going to walk with you.
“I’m glad.” And now you’re looking at him through watery lens, blinking away the last of your tears to see him clearer.
“Huh?”
“I’m glad. Because if he did like you back, then you would be with him. And… I don’t want you to be with him.” The words are coming out slowly, and Kei feels like the biggest lovestruck dumbass in the whole entire world, but it’s too late to take back that confession, so he might as well just get through with it all. “Because… because I want to be with you. I like you.” He adds in the last part because he’s pretty sure that you would have asked him what he meant by that had he not made it perfectly clear.
And then you give him the biggest, brightest smile he’s ever saw, and he has to admit that even after crying, you’re still the most beautiful person to ever shine underneath the glow of the moon.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
Kei Tsukishima is the name of the man in the photo. The man you’re living with. The man who hardly ever speaks to you and chooses to sleep on the couch and gives you the bed. The man who knows how you like your tea and sets out the mug for you on the counter, but he’s never actually there when you manage to wake up and walk in the kitchen. It’s like he exists, but only for brief moments and never long enough for you to ask him anything.
There are pictures in your phone. Social media posts. Text messages. Everyone you know tells you the same thing when you ask who Tsukishima is.
“He’s the love of your life, [Y/N].”
Except, if he’s the love of your life, then why is he avoiding you like you carry the God damn plague or something? It’s frustrating and extremely maddening to know that he’s purposely leaving you alone, and you think that he’s a pretty shitty boyfriend if he’s not even going to be here for you during a time when you so obviously need him the most.
And so, in your empty apartment that doesn’t feel like home even though everyone claims it is, you do some research. You look through your closet first, brushing over the cotton shirts and distressed jeans. Further back, your fingers graze over a black dress you have no recollection of owning, but as you pull it out, you’re overcome with a sudden burst of memory.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“Tsukki, zip me up!” You whine, pulling back your hair so it doesn’t get stuck in the zipper whenever he does help you.
“No.”
“We’re gonna be late to Tadashi’s engagement party!’ You moan, walking in front of your boyfriend and blocking his view of the TV.
“Move out of the way.” You notice that he’s already dressed and seeing Kei in a suit that hugs his lean body is a sight that you want permanently ingrained in your memory.
“You’ve got your horny eyes on.” Kei says, but you notice that he’s no longer interested in whatever show was playing. His golden eyes kept flickering between you and your curve accentuating black dress, and you noticed that his normally bright eyes are darkening by the second.
“Are you talking to me or yourself?”
Kei doesn’t answer, but he’s typing something on his phone. When he’s finished, he tosses it to the side carelessly and is slowly stalking towards you. He walks behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, slouching so he can whisper in your ear.
“We got to make this quick. I don’t want to keep poor Tadashi waiting for too long.”
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
And now you’re running around the apartment, opening up cabinets and drawers and picking up anything and everything, searching desperately for another trigger, something to help you remember more. Because you remember it. You remember mere crumbs of the mountainous love you must have harbored for this man, and you’ll be damned if you don’t remember all of it.
There’s a package of toothbrushes that you push aside in the bathroom in search of something more memory inducing, but then you stare at the pack more fondly.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
“You brush your teeth so aggressively.” You giggle, admiring your boyfriend in the shared bathroom mirror. You had already finished brushing, and now you’re just waiting on him to hurry up so you can go to bed together. Ever since you two moved in together, you had adamantly refused to go to bed alone, a fact that Kei claims to think is quite bothersome, but you and him both know that he secretly adores this.
He spits out his toothpaste violently, with absolutely no regards to just how simply outrageous he is with his oral hygiene. A lot of people don’t see this mundane side to him. All the outside world can see is a scowling man with snarky comments and a reluctance to playing well with others. And for a long time, that’s all he was to you, too.
And then he told you he liked you, snot nosed and tear stained cheeks and all, and the rest was a series of crumbling facades after that.
You know that it’s not easy for him to be open. Communication is hard for a man who’s grown up using insults as his main way of connecting with others, and sometimes, he says the occasional remark that hurts you just a little too much. But sitting on the cool marble counter of the bathroom, you look at your boyfriend and smile at him.
“What?” He asks, getting a towel to wipe his face. “Do I still have toothpaste on me?”
“I love you.” You say.
Saying something like that is incredibly difficult and extremely rare for Kei, so you’ve gotten used to him not saying it back. You know how he feels about you, and while voicing his emotions is the type of vulnerability he’s not too keen on having, he tries extra hard to be as open as possible.
It’s why you’re kind of caught off guard when he looks at you and gives you one of those rare small smiles that are reserved for your eyes only. A smile was a rarity, but still more common than Kei saying those special three words.
“I love you, too.”
You nearly slip off the counter in shock, but before you can crack your head open on the tiles of the floor, he’s catching you. His annoyed face is back on, but the adoration in his eyes cannot be hidden, no matter how hard he tries.
He’s always catching you, and suddenly you know that he always will.
━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━
It’s a hurricane of emotions swirling inside of you. How could you forget? How could you not remember the single most important person in your whole entire world? Kei Tsukishima, with his condescending smirk and instigating comments. Kei, who made it his mission to help you pass English. Kei, who adores you so much that he lets down his barriers that are meant to keep people away from him. Kei, who loves you.
But there’s an item in your hands that you’re not quite sure if it’s really yours or not. Is this one memory that you’ll never get back?
Because in the nightstand drawer by your bed that you’ve spent so many nights with Kei in, there’s a box. And in the box is a ring. But there’s no way you could forget something as monumental as a proposal, and you don’t know how long you’ve been staring at the diamond, but it must have been for hours because Kei’s suddenly home.
He’s leaning against the door frame of the bedroom. He has an unreadable expression on his face, and he knows that you know about the ring. Obviously you do, it’s right there in your hands. But he doesn’t look happy, and his eyes aren’t shining, and his hands are shoved in his pockets.
“Tsukki.” You get up slowly, stretching out your hand to reveal the ring resting gently in the palm of it. “What is this?”
“You don’t remember?” He looks like a snake about to bite, and you shrink away from him. You remember everything about Kei – or, at least, you think you do – and while you know even you’re not immune to being victim of one of his icy stares and venomous words, all you can remember is the overwhelming warmth of his presence. He’s standing as still as a statue, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you place the ring back in its box.
You shake your head slowly. “I-I thought I… Remembered everything.”
“Obviously not.”
“But I remember you, Kei!” You cry out. “I remember the night of Tadashi’s engagement party. I remember you confessing to me in high school. I was crying, and you made me smile right when I thought my whole entire life just ended. I remember holidays at your parents, and you visiting mine. My siblings and cousins all adored you, for God knows why. I remember that one time I forgot my jacket, and you called me an idiot, but you still gave me yours even though you were freezing when we got home. I remember everything I need to in order to remember my feelings for you. I love you, Kei. I don’t need to remember everything to know that that’s true! Isn’t that enough?”
There’s a sort of softness in the stare that Kei’s giving you. His eyes are glossy from the tears he hasn’t allowed to fall, but when he blinks, he’s quick to wipe them away. He steps into the bedroom.
One step.
You hold your breath.
Another step.
He’s getting closer.
One after that.
The distance between the two of you is nearly diminished, and he grabs the ring box, wrapping his larger hands over it and your hands, squeezing tightly and yet with a familiar gentleness that he has only for you.
There’s that signature smirk of his now. You’re confused, until he explains.
“Well, you don’t remember the ring because I haven’t proposed yet. Guess the surprise is ruined.”
You’re stuck between wanting to choke him or kiss him. You opt for stuttering like a fool.
“Y-you dumbass!” You smack his shoulder and sit down on the bed, and he’s grinning like he’s just won a prize. “You made me cry!”
“Boohoo, you’re always crying.” But there’s no malice in his jibe, and he’s taking a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close.
“You’re such a jerk sometimes.” You mumble, but that doesn’t stop you from curling up to him.
“Yeah, well, you broke my heart first.”
“Okay, in my defense, I just got into a car accident and banged my head. Sorry that I couldn’t decide what I was going to forget!”
“Hmm, well, I guess when you put it like that, all is forgiven.” He muses. “But I have to know…”
“Know what?”
“The ring. Yes or no?”
“I think you and I both know the answer to that.” You open up the box and extend your hand so he can put the ring on it.
“Mmm, I want to hear you say it.”
You stick your tongue out at your boyfriend. “Kei Tsukishima, I cannot believe I’m saying this but, yes. I will marry you. Now put the damn ring on, so the next time I get amnesia, I at least get a headstart on getting my memory back.”
The ring is a perfect fit. Obviously. Kei Tsukishima isn’t an idiot.
“I love you.” You say, kissing his jaw softly because you can’t reach his cheek or his lips.
“How could I forget? You only mention it every other minute.” He says back, but he’s smiling and he leans down so he can properly kiss you. “But, I suppose I better start saying it too. Knowing your luck, you’ll get hit on the head again.”
And then he’s kissing you again, but not before muttering the same phrase over and over again.
I DONT USUALLY REBLOG THIGNS ON HERE BUT I LOVE TSUKISHIMA KEI SO MUCH AND I LOVE THIS AUTHOR SO MUCH FOR WRITING TRHIS????
the angst was so perfectly balanced with fluff and every single piece of imagery did well in making my heart either lift or sink and kfjskfj i just love this so much and i should be doing my computer science hw but i am CRYIHNG OVER SUCH A SPECTACULAR PIECE OF A FIC AND read this please
pixelskylines
areudirty
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
