@onehope said: ❛ don’t we deserve to be happy? ❜ ushioi :'))) (questions sentence starters)
Growing up, Ushijima had never lent much thought to the idea of relationships. Wherever he was concerned, it always seemed the rest of his peers was moving at a different pace than he was. His classmates would start talking about girls; and he would look out the window, thinking about his upcoming practice with the junior team later that day. His classmates would start talking to girls, and talk about dating, and girlfriends, and he would think about how he could improve his service toss. His friends would actually start dating, and introduce their partners to each other, to family; and Ushijima would wonder if he there was an unspoken step he’d missed, somewhere along the line. It wasn’t a horrible realisation. It wasn’t painful, or a longing doomed to never be quelled. He just assumed/concluded/deduced that perhaps, this was a kind of fulfillment, and happiness, that wasn’t in the cards for him.
Until Tooru has conscienciously, stubbornly dismantled every one of the certitudes Ushijima had come to take for granted. Maybe this kind of fulfillment, and happiness, was in the cards for him, after all.
... though that might be hard to believe, right now: Tooru curled up on a chair, arms wrapped around his knees like he’s hiding behind them, Wakatoshi standing tall and still like a statue of clay in the middle of the kitchen. Disappointment and frustration leave a sour taste on the tongue; their application to return to Japan delayed because of a miscommunication with the Argentinian authorities. A delay is better than a refusal... but after years of battling impossible distances and interminable absences?
Frustration barely begins to cover it.
Wakatoshi looks at Tooru, and hates to see him like this. Hates to see him unhappy, hates to see him suffer from a situation that constantly escapes their control. Hates to see him question whether or not they deserve to be happy - even if it’s rhetorical. What have they done wrong, for that to even be a question?
Nothing, Ushijima decides. They have done nothing wrong, and they deserve to be happy, and all of this is still in the cards - for both of them.
Wakatoshi shakes himself from his muted stillness and closes the distance between them. He crouches down at Tooru’s side; and gently presses his hand to his jaw to force him to turn his eyes and look at him. “Hey. Look at me.” Tooru looks at him. “This isn’t over yet. We’ll do the paperwork as many times as it takes, until we get what we need. This is only a temporary setback... an annoying one.” Ushijima’s gaze and voice don’t waver - they seldom do. Sometimes, it has been called coldness. More generous commentators have called it self-control and indomitable stubborness. He is very stubborn when it comes to Tooru.
Thumb runs over Tooru’s cheekbone; eyes lost in the storm he sees brewing in the setter’s gaze. They are going to be fine. Neither of them is allowed to doubt it or suppose otherwise. A paper is not going to make them start today. “You’ve never given up once in your life. Don’t give up now.”
