tadashi treats love like a lifelong binding contract and tsukishima’s sister is the fine print he memorized.
wc: 1.6k, request
the gym smells like floor polish, sweat, and the unmistakable ozone of teenage ambition—like someone tried to microwave hope and slightly burned it.
you’re perched on the stage steps with a clipboard you don’t technically need, ponytail slipping, legs swinging, very much a third year who has Seen Things™. the first years are running drills, tsukishima is scowling at someone’s footwork like it personally insulted his ancestors, and yamaguchi is—
well.
yamaguchi is looking at you like the sun personally clocked out so you could take over the shift.
it’s not subtle. it’s never subtle. it’s the kind of looking that has witnesses. the kind that could be diagrammed in a court of law.
you feel it before you see it, that warm prickling between your shoulder blades, and when you glance over, there he is. freckled, earnest, eyes bright like he just discovered a new religion and it’s you folding towels.
you wave, because you’re not rude. you smile, because you’re human and he’s sweet and it costs you nothing. yamaguchi’s entire soul leaves his body.
he trips over his own feet.
“yamaguchi!” tsukishima snaps. “focus.”
yamaguchi apologizes to the floor, the air, tsukishima, and possibly you in several dimensions. he rights himself, cheeks pink, and then—because fate is a comedian with a grudge—he looks back at you again.
this time, he doesn’t even try to hide it.
you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, shoulders shaking. the clipboard becomes an excuse to cover your mouth. he sees that too, of course. his spine straightens like he’s just been knighted.
somewhere in the distance, crows caw. karasuno lives.
𓏵
being tsukishima kei’s older sister means a few things, culturally speaking.
one: you are immune to sarcasm. it washes over you like rain on a windshield.
two: you learned early that affection comes in strange shapes, like insults disguised as concern and concern disguised as silence.
three: everyone assumes you’re scary.
you’re not. you’re just tall, calm, and you don’t sugarcoat. it’s a curse. first years look at you like you might hand out pop quizzes on breathing wrong.
except yamaguchi.
yamaguchi looks at you like you hung the moon, labeled the stars, and personally approved the concept of summer break.
it started small.
he’d linger when you helped pack equipment, hovering like a polite ghost. he’d offer to carry things you were already holding, arms out, hopeful, like a very earnest coat rack. he’d listen when you talked—really listen, eyes on your face, nodding like every word was a sacred text.
you noticed. you’re not oblivious. you’re also not cruel.
so you smiled. you talked back. you asked him about his serves, about school, about that new pen he kept clicking like it owed him money.
he remembered everything.
everything.
𓏵
the first time it clicked—really clicked—was during a practice game. you were chatting with kiyoko near the wall, laughing about something mundane, and you felt it again. that sensation. you looked up.
yamaguchi was on the bench, towel around his neck, staring.
not angry. not jealous. just… intent. like he was counting your breaths, making sure they were steady.
when hinata leaned over and said something funny—probably a complaint about kageyama, knowing him—you laughed, nudged his shoulder.
yamaguchi’s fingers curled into the towel.
you blinked. tilted your head.
he smiled at you.
it was bright. it was sweet. but it did not reach his eyes.
later, he offered you a sports drink he hadn’t even opened yet. cold, condensation slicking the plastic.
“you looked thirsty,” he said.
you took it, thanked him, brushed his fingers by accident.
he didn’t wash that hand for the rest of the day.
𓏵
it escalates the way ivy does. quiet. determined. impossible to notice until it’s everywhere.
yamaguchi knows your schedule better than you do. not in a creepy way, you tell yourself. in a considerate way. he just happens to be around when you finish club meetings. he just happens to save you a seat. he just happens to have extra snacks you like.
“how did you know i like melon bread?” you ask one afternoon, accepting the warm package.
he shrugs, eyes soft. “you smiled more when you ate it last time.”
that’s… unsettling. also kind of adorable. also deeply flattering. your heart does a stupid little skip like it’s trying to impress someone.
you start waiting for him too.
after practice, you linger. you walk slower. you glance around corners.
when he jogs up, breathless, freckled grin wide, it feels like something clicking into place. like a chair sliding under you just as you sit.
tsukishima notices, of course. tsukishima always notices.
“you’re smiling,” he says flatly one night as you walk home.
“am i?” you ask.
he squints at you. “that’s not denial.”
you shrug. “don’t worry about it.”
he worries about it.
he worries about yamaguchi, who suddenly walks you home too. who carries your bag without asking. who stands between you and the street like he’s daring traffic to try something.
yamaguchi hums. “i know. you’re stronger than most people.”
the way he says it makes your chest ache. like he sees something you don’t even know how to name.
tsukishima watches him like a scientist observing a new species. odd specimen..
𓏵
the confession does not happen under cherry blossoms or fireworks or any of the other rom-com lies.
it happens in the gym storage room.
you’re inventorying balls. yamaguchi is helping, passing them to you one by one, careful not to brush your hands too often, like restraint is a muscle he’s actively flexing.
it’s quiet. dust motes drift. the world feels small.
he clears his throat.
you look at him.
his eyes are dark, steady, shining with something that makes your pulse pick up like it’s late to class.
“i like you,” he says.
simple. honest.
you don’t laugh. you don’t deflect. you breathe.
“i know,” you say softly.
his shoulders sag with relief so intense it’s almost comical. like he’d been holding the roof up with his spine.
“i think about you all the time,” he continues, words tumbling now, careful but fervent. “when i practice. when i study. when tsukishima annoys me. i think about making you laugh. i think about… taking care of you.”
there it is. that edge. that intensity.
you step closer. close enough that you can see the tiny scar near his eyebrow. close enough that his breath stutters.
“yamaguchi,” you say, voice warm, grounding. “just so you know, i don’t need someone to own my life.”
he nods immediately. “i know. i don’t want to own it. i want to be part of it.”
your heart does that stupid thing again, like it’s trying to escape your ribcage and join his.
“i like you too,” you say.
the sound he makes is not dignified. it’s like a kettle boiling over. he clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, damp.
“really?” he whispers.
you laugh, gentle. “really.”
he asks if he can hold your hand like he’s requesting permission to touch a sacred artifact. you say yes. his fingers lace with yours like they’ve been rehearsing.
later, when you kiss him, it’s slow and reverent and so careful it nearly makes you cry. like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast.
𓏵
dating yamaguchi is like being adored by a very polite storm.
he opens doors. he remembers dates. he texts good morning and good night like a ritual. he watches you eat to make sure you’re enjoying it. he listens when you rant about exams and nods like he’s preparing for battle.
he also gets… focused.
a guy from another class flirts with you? yamaguchi smiles, sweet as sugar, and somehow ends up between you and the offender within minutes, conversation redirected, presence unmistakable.
you raise an eyebrow later.
“i trust you,” he says quickly. “i just don’t trust them to understand what they’re not entitled to.”
it’s intense. it’s a lot.
it’s also weirdly reassuring.
you talk about it. you always talk about it. boundaries, feelings, expectations. yamaguchi listens like your words are coordinates keeping him from drifting off course.
“tell me when i’m too much,” he says once, forehead pressed to yours.
you cup his cheek. “tell me when you’re scared.”
he exhales. “always.”
tsukishima pretends not to notice the way yamaguchi looks at you like a promise carved into bone. pretends not to notice the way you lean into him like you belong there.
he does, however, threaten yamaguchi with bodily harm exactly once.
yamaguchi thanks him for caring about you and says he understands.
tsukishima does not know what to do with that.
𓏵
the night you realize this is forever sneaks up on you.
you’re studying late in the gym stands, legs tucked under you, yamaguchi beside you, whispering mnemonics. tsukishima is across the aisle, pretending not to eavesdrop.
you yawn. yamaguchi drapes his jacket over your shoulders without breaking his sentence.
you look at him. really look.
the freckles. the earnest concentration. the way his knee presses into yours like an anchor.
he looks back, soft and unwavering.
in that moment, you feel it settle. deep. solid. like a root taking hold.
you squeeze his hand.
he squeezes back immediately, like he’d been waiting for the signal.
somewhere below, the gym lights hum. above, the rafters creak. life continues, ordinary and miraculous.
yamaguchi leans in and murmurs, “i love you,” like he’s been saying it forever.
you smile, heart full to bursting. “i love you too.”
tsukishima and yamaguchi who both have a crush on reader.
You meet them both at the same time, in school for the first time. Tsukishima had this intimidating demeanor it was rather hard for him to even actually speak to you. He looked directly at you as you spoke to him only giving you a nod. Tadashi feeling the second hand embarrassment for you introduces himself, as anxious and as nervous as he is he lands the introduction quite well. Making you laugh and you even compliment him!
“ I like your freckles.”
“ r- really?! I- .. uh! thank you! i used to hate them but uh...it's nice to know you like them.”
You giggle at his words, tsukishima only eyes you two as you speak. Tadashi slouches quite a bit, more than he ever knew. After the compliment he seemed to have straighten up moving ore towards you as you both conversate a bit more, you realize that up close he's a lot taller than he appeared next to tsukishima. He smells nice as well, a natural light scented smell emitting from him. It was very feint, like his own signature smell in a way. It didn't smell like a type of cologne or body wash; just a smell that was him.
Eventually you get tsukishima to open up to you, you both talk to each other alot more and even laugh together. Mostly it's you laughing at the insults he throws at kageyama and others, as rude as he is and as much as you acknowledge that you can't deny how funny he is. It's like a natural thing for him. He has this inhumane type of humor to naturally make you laugh, it akways works too. It's not like hes the rype to tell a corny joke that doesn't land well. More or less he says something that perfectlt fits a situation with a sarcastic flair to it. It absolutely kills you every time.
Now, it's not exactly how tadashi does it. When tadashi laughs at tsykishimaa jokes or quips it's mostly because he's laughing in the same manner as tsukishima; in hopes to make the person their laughing at feel some type of way. Or in tadashi case hopefully to make tsukishima feel better about himself, who knows. Meanwhile when you laugh at tsukishimas words it's because you genuinely seem to find it funny. Your laugh so sweet and genuine. You really find him charismatically funny.
Tadashi dislikes this however. You aren't rbe first person he's ever had a crush on obviously and there's a probability you won't be the last. Growing up with tsukishima wasn't always easy. Obviously it had its perks, like his height scaring away bullies as tadashi had a "late" growth spurt. And even then he still seemed short compared to tsukishimas height always overpowering his own.
Every single crush tadashi has had, has managed to fall for tsukishima. Anytime a girl walks up to tadashi he fears it's only because they want him to cook them up with tsukishima. And sometimes he can't help himself but to throw a few mean words about tsukishima whenever he lets the girls down explaining to them that tsukishima isn't interested in dating.
Tadashi had finally thought he had someone. You. You were kind and caring and you seemed so real with him. You never seemed like you were using him to get closer to tsukishima. You never acted like you were faking being interested in what he had to say, you listened to his interests and his rambles. You never made him feel weird and for some reason all of his nerves and anxiety completely disappeared when you were around. He loved that you could make him feel so comfortable, so welcomed in your heart. Your presence was one of a kind and so warm. So much so he couldn't stand the fact that tsukishima had a crush on you
It was obvious to tadashi. He's known tsukishima for half of his life, never once has tsukishima ever showed interest in a girl when they try to talk to him. He hardly shows much interest when talking to yachi; even kiyoko and he's wildly pretty, even then he seems unfazed by her pretty words and sensational looks. But it's different with you, he listens. He jokes, he chuckles at your words and even smiles at you when you aren't looking. But tadashi is. He always is. He sees the way he looks at you, admires you. The same way he himself does. He hates it.
Tsukishima isn't blind either. He sees tadashi light up at the meer mention of you. He notices how he fiddles with his fingers or picks at his freckles as if they were lumps on his face after you'd complimented them. He hates the way his eyes seem to fill with such love for you, how he smiles widely when you speak to him. How he manages to remember everything you ever stay to him! Tsukishima won't lie, he tries. He really does; but it's just you talk so much and it's so hard to remember every little detail!!
But oh, never for tadashi. He's a great fucking listener. He has to be, it's not like tsukishima is beaviky talkative or even someone who baosts and brags about the things hes done or accomplished or anything like that. He talks more to tadashi when hes yelling about how annoying someone or soemthing is to him. Of course they have genuine conversations to each other, they love each other. They're best friends and nothing can really get in the way of that. But theyve never really had somethig quite like this happen. Liking the same girl?
Tadashi ways felt like if he listened for very little word tsukishima ever spout and brought it up in a later situation tsukishima would grow closer to him. He never realized that tsukishima already grew closer to him regardless of what he did. It also never dawned on him to actually use this same information with girls. However, it was natural for him. Tadashi was suprisinglt smooth with his words, throwing in occasional little words to throw you off and bring a little warmth to your cheeks. Sweet words to amke you feel better about yourself, a soft look in his eyes whenever he mamagee to get the guts to hold eye contact with you..
But where do you think he learned his sweet moves from? Watching tsukishima. Tsukishima has a way with his words, normally he uses that way to insult others subliminally but boy is he good at it. Tadashi used what he learned to sweet talk you subliminally, in small ways you might not catch. It does hurt a bit when what he says flies completely I've your head, but he grows a little more proud of himself that he even anger to say it with his nerves.
Botht he boys have already figured out the other bad feelings for you. Meanwhile you just enjoy their company, whether it be one on one or together. You already love them so much and they mean so much to you. You have no idea how much you mean to them.
As they're both studying or really just fiddling with their pens or paper, their minds running wild in his the other wont tell them that they like you. They both already know and both think it's fair that the other just spills their guts. Tadashi thoughts are definitely more....aggressive..than tsukishimas. Obviously tsukishima is "in like" with you, but man tadashi is passionate. He seems to really care for you, staring holes into tsukishima by as he looks up feeling tadashis eyes on him; he's quick to whip his head back down to his notebook.
Tadashi sighs in defeat to himself. Tsukishima would win you anyways. He really thinks he should just give up. Just as he's about to sulk and get caught up in his mind tsukishima speaks. Finally.
“ look tadashi. I know you like y/n.”
“ you.. you do.”
“ it's rather obvious don't you think?”
Tadashi looks at him with the straightest face he can give. He doesn't want to seem weak anymore, even if he's ready to accept defeat. He doesn't want to be second best anymore. He's tired of always being chosen last compared to his best friend.
“ I mean the way you smile at them, look at them. you're in way over you're head.”
Tadashi can't help but to get confused. What does he mean? It's not like you exactly flirt with tsukishima anymore you do him. Hell, you don't flirt at all! Probably because you're an airhead, or maybe because you're choosing not to notice either of their feelings for you. Who knows. But it doesn't exactly add up to tadashi. As emotional and anxious as he is, he's not stupid.
“ what do you mean.”
“ look, tadashi. I just don't want you to get hurt. they're just being nice to you; they don't have feelings for you.”
Right. As much as tadashi thinks this is bullshit, every part of him has thought about it. He's thought about it countless times, his heart beating at the remeberence of you holding his arm then suddenly stopping and thinking maybe you were just being nice. Maybe you were just teasing; because there was just no way in his mind that you could really, genuinely want to be with him. But you could tsukishima. They always do.
In the end, tsukishima won. He ends up asking you out and you say yes. There was a part of you that suspected tadashi liked you, part of you that hoped he would ask you out. Everything in him yelled and cursed himself for not being in tsukshimas shoes. For not being the one you kissed all over when he got hurt or needed a pick me up. But he fucked up.
you're so madly, deeply in love with yamaguchi tadashi.
that's funny, because he's usually invisible to everyone's eyes but all of a sudden, he became everyone's apple of the eye.
the monster pinch server whose hair grew a tad bit longer from when you first met him during your first year—or before your first year at karasuno, when you finally completed your school transfer requirements, and he bumped into you, hastily swiping his sweat from the heat of running through the blossoming spring that japan is.
"gosh! i am deeply sorry!"
oh, how your eyes sparkled when you saw the liter of freckles on his reddened cheeks; probably from the warmth he's feeling, or his embarrassment. he... he's so gorgeous.
"yamaguchi, hurry up." a monotoned voice spoke up, a bit ahead from the both of you. and before you could reply to the green haired male, he was gone in a flash—not before giving you a short wave and a sheepish smile.
now, you stand at the entrance of the karasuno gym. watching a practice match between your school's volleyball club and a neighbouring school you couldn't remember because all your focus was on the boy who proudly wore his number 1 vest as he is called for another service ace.
clutching your clasped hands atop your chest, your eyes glittered watching him. yamaguchi tadashi, in all his glory—you loved seeing him most when he's in his element, volleyball was his air; one thing you couldn't erase from him, nor could you separate from him.
you hear everyone's cheer for him, and you know he's embracing them fully with how he smiled so confidently before hitting his famous jump float serve.
"tadashi-senpai is so cool! and he look so handsome~"
god forbids you jump on those giggling girls a few earshots away from you. you noticed him first! how about they stop thirsting over him and focus on the game?
your inner monologue was interrupted by your conscious thoughts. he'd think you're weird if you keep barricading him like a guard or something.
the karasuno gym, which you grew accustomed with having a few people around was now crowded of students from different years—all wanting to see the volleyball players in action before their actual match on the nationals in 3 days.
yamaguchi tadashi whose growth you witnessed from being a fragile and petrified kid to a self-assured and courageous captain, bring his own team to the nationals once more was something you've always felt so proud for. he grew so much from being a shadow to being the spotlight itself.
after the final set, with an 8-point difference and karasuno obviously winning, you squeezed your way to the front lines where the members of the club gathered after finishing remarks and greetings—your eye catches a certain green haired boy, swiping his sweat and calming down his beating heart, that is going too fast for his liking.
the front lines was still a bit cramped but you did manage to push through, just enough to see tadashi.
said male finally stopped his self ministration before looking up,
"baby!"
with a beeming smile, two long arms scooped your hips from the student mass in a blink of an eye.
"hi, 'dashi." your own smile designed your face, a blush evident from the unexpected call out from your sweet lover.
"i thought you wouldn't be able to watch me." he laughed a little, hugging your uniform clad body close to him.
he was sweaty, yet you didn't mind—as long as he was near to you like this, you wouldn't trade it for any other thing, not even your favorite food.
"of course i'd make it, lovely. sorry i couldn't make it anywhere adjacent your line of vision, this place was already full!" you explained to him, a quick peck on his bright cheeks; but he honestly couldn't care about that,
yamaguchi tadashi is so madly, deeply in love with you too.
in your white long sleeves, paired with a beige vest and a ribbon on top, wearing your school's grey skirt—your hair down and simply tucked behind your ears, the way your eyes sparkled the same way he saw them during your unforeseen interaction, the moles on your face, and most importantly, your pretty, pink lips that he grew to love.
you're the most beautiful to him, right at this very moment—and many more moments that will come.
but right now, you looked incredible. your make up is done so lightly, it's barely noticeable but it's there. he wanted to kiss you, so, so bad.
and he did.
looking down at you innocently rambling, one of his hands made it up your upper back before expertly tilting his head to connect your lips in a breathtaking kiss. your hands froze on both his biceps, not knowing where this sudden burst of boldness came from.
breaking apart the sealed kiss, he whispered, "kiss me back, baby." so softly, and quietly that if you didn't pay such close attention, you'd not hear it. once he continued to connect your lips together, you felt more relax and calm, kissing his tender lips back and clutching his white tee for support.
he's invading all your senses to the point that you can't think; your brain is fogged like hell, but tadashi wasn't letting up with the starved kisses he was giving.
"oi, oi! that's enough, lovebirds" shoyo shouted from somewhere,
but everyone be damned, tadashi is too down bad; just for you.
(ˆ. ̫ . ⸝⸝⸝ˆ) ໒꒱ 𖦹 ps. it's me, i'm down bad for him. LOL but i do hope you enjoyed this unexpected first draft i wrote ><
Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Fem!Reader
Content Warnings: PINING!! so so much pining, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, insecure reader, reader has hair (colour, texture, etc. is not mentioned)
Word Count: Approx. 10k
Author's Note: Reader likes girls too, but no labels are applied/specified
You know that you’re supposed to be studying. Of course, you do, but how can anyone possibly expect you to do so when he looks like that. So incredibly pretty, while doing something as simple as sitting and breathing. There's that familiar light coming through the large library windows, and that golden glow that rests upon his face, illuminating his skin. He looks like an angel. You could spend hours like this, admiring him. His every freckle, line, curve, and dimple. Every twitch of his lips and eyebrows. Every flutter of his eyelashes.
You watch the way he chews at his pencil. In an attempt to seem actually invested in your work, you try to return your focus to the things splayed about on your table. Your school books are littered everywhere, each of them opened to a different page, lines upon lines of bright pinks and yellows highlighting the ink on the pages. Sitting not too far from your books, are the matching plastic tumbler cups he got for you, each respectively containing your favourite drinks. You take a long leisurely sip before getting back to work with a sigh.
Tadashi knows you left in a hurry to meet him today. He's never once mentioned it, but he knows you have a tendency to be late for things. He also knows how you love to have something to nibble or drink when studying, so he prepared your favourite, just how you like it right before he left, so that when he met with you, you’d be thanking him with that beautiful smile he loves and a kiss on the cheek. It makes him feel all giddy and warm inside, knowing that he’s the one to make you happy like that, and each an every times he vows to continue to make you happy, for as long as he can.
Though, He’ll never tell you that.
He lifts his gaze to look at you. You look so adorable, he thinks. you’re wearing an over-sized sweater, with sleeves just a little too long, that fall just past your wrists, and a pair of simple shorts. He thinks back to the white shoes you're wearing, (He took note of them as you walked in, just as he notes everything else about you) He has has the mind to laugh at that, maybe they're not so white anymore. The pair were quite old, and have morphed into a colour of something along the lines of a splotchy tan. He eyes the flowers on them, remembering the day you had both spent painting the little daisies all over them when you said you wanted to up-cycle them instead of cleaning them or throwing them away. You had skipped makeup and hair-styling entirely for the day- couldn’t be bothered while studying for your up-coming exams, and he doesn't think you could ever look anything less than stunning.
He watches you reach over and grab your cup, sipping through the straw slowly, eyes still trailing on your notes. he can’t help but watch as your lips wrap around the straw. He can’t help the way he wishes he could kiss them. Staring at you for a couple more seconds, Tadashi urges himself to pull his eyes away. He wants to be respectful of your friendship, because he knows..
You like someone else.
After about half an hour of writing and studying cue-cards, you let out a small, but exaggerated half-whine, half-groan.
“I hate this,” you say with a small pout. “It’s so incredibly boring, and I'm not even processing any of this anymore. I'm done.” You push your chair back and slump your upper body over the table, arms stretched out over your papers and onto his side of the surface. Your face ducks down in between your arms, and hears a slight thud, your forehead hitting the table as a way of tell him that there was no way he could possibly get you to do anymore work today.
With a smile and a tilt of his head, he raises himself up off his chair, walks around the table, and stands behind you. He pushes your chair back into it’s proper place, forcing you to sit upright. The very last thing you expected him to do was lean down close to you and ask,
“Would you like some help on how to do it right?”
You swear your heart felt as though it had entered an Olympic hurdles race, ‘cause that bitch was running a mile a minute and jumping all around in your chest.
You paused,- actually paused before letting out the quietest "No?”
He exhales a chuckle, “Is that so? 'Cause your notes are looking really blank if you ask me.”
Ever quick to retaliate, and shooting back with a smile on your face,
“Well, it’s a damn good thing I never asked you, isn’t it?” You turn your face slightly to your left, your faces now so close, you’d be kissing him if you moved so much as an inch. You sucked in a small gasp. You couldn’t help it. He was so close to you that could smell his cologne, the one he usually only wore on special occasions. It made your eyelids flutter to a close before you took in a slow breath. It was as though he flooded your senses. His smell, his heartbeat. It felt as though you could feel it all, thrumming and coursing through your every nerve.
It almost reminded you of that time. That one time, long, long ago when you gave a piece of yourself to him when you were both only little, enraptured by the idea of having your first kiss.
He pulls away first, reminding himself that this isn’t real. That he’s imagining the chemistry, the pull that’s drawing you both closer together, because it can't be. You like someone else, he reminds himself, time and time again.
It's not you.
A voice calls from somewhere in the depths of his mind. He shakes himself. This wasn't about him, and it's definitely not because he’s isn't good enough. He remembers the things he's rehashed with his therapist. The self-love and reassurance exercises they'd learned to remind himself that he’s enough. It’s not about him, it’s about some other person, and that’s not something he can control, and that doesn’t mean he’s any less important, or any less loved. Especially by you.
At least he knows that he’ll always hold a place in your heart. He was, after all, your very first kiss.
His insides beam as he recalls the memory. It was clumsy- of course it was. You were only about 10 years old, as was he. You'd been shaking out of excitement and nervousness. It was truly an elementary sort of thing- you had almost sort of planned it. It was like a mutual understanding that he’d be your first kiss, and that you would be his. He can only imagine what it would feel like now; now that you're grown and he’s known you and liked you and dreamt of kissing you again for so damn long.
And yet, you liked someone else.
He’s accepted long ago that he may never have that happily ever after that he’s longed for. The kind that he decided he wanted with you when you first watched ‘The Princess and The Frog’ together as kids in your fluffy pillow fort. He remembers the way your wide eyes sparkled during the end scene, where Tiana and Naveen dance on the balcony in the twilight, the gleam of the moon reflecting off the water down below. he decided then and there, that that was what he wanted with you.
Only you.
Tadashi has accepted long ago that he may never have the happily ever after that he’s dreamed of since he was a child.
At least, not with you.
You lay in bed that night, wide awake. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to want you back. It was laughable, really, how you felt like a 12 year old running around, hiding your silly little crush from your friends.
You weren’t oblivious. At least, you weren’t that oblivious. you know better than to assume that what went down in the library was a normal friendship occurrence.
But he pulled away first, you remind yourself.
You try not to fixate on that, hoping that you can keep that special moment to yourself. It felt so intimate, and vulnerable- it felt real. So much so, that you feel like you had imagined the whole damn thing.
Your heart squeezed in your chest. Is it always going to be this way? you had no idea whether or not he felt anything for you. Or if he was even attracted to anyone romantically at all. He seemed to avoid those kinds of questions. What you did know, though, was that he acted differently around you than he did other girls. it’s hard to pinpoint, but it’s there. Maybe it’s his demeanor. Maybe it’s the way he laughs.
He always did seem to laugh harder when other girls were around. They would come around and tell jokes that you can only wish you had come up with, so that you could have been the one to make him laugh like that. You dreaded the way they touched his arm afterwards, they way they would smile at him, chin tilted down, but eyes gazing up into his, twinkling with something more. They were hoping for something more.
And in the end, you couldn't even be upset with anyone but yourself- because you couldn’t blame them for it. Tadashi was always so nice. So kind and pretty and smart. You couldn’t rule out his physique either, or his style. He had this way about him that made everyone fall to their knees. He unknowingly attracted others to him with his good spirit, even though he's always hated attention
In many ways, you wished that you were the only one to notice how bright he shone. How incredible he was.
But, another part of you remembers how he was treated as a child, and you’re happy that people are noticing him, and loving him like he deserves. You could only wish that they had seen it before he had hit puberty and grew ten times taller and ten times hotter. You weren’t blind to the fact that the girls who used to make fun of him back when you were young, are now the ones flocking to him.
You guessed that's just the way it always is.
Weeks and months flew by, as did courses and end of year exams, and soon enough, it was summer. You always loved the summer, because that’s when you spent most of your time with Tadashi. While being in different academic programs made it difficult to see each other consistently during the semester, summer gave the two of you plenty of time off to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Amusement parks, shopping sprees, beach trips and sleepovers were only a few of the things you’d already planned to do these upcoming months.
You cherished it, spending this much time together. During the summer, it was just the two of you, day and night. You know that the minute summer is done, the possibility of Tadashi falling for someone is much more likely- someone he meets in his program, or through other friends. You prepare yourself for it, so that when the day does come, you can try and bear it and keep the friendship as normal as possible. Though, you're not entirely sure you could bear it. Maybe you're just too jealous.
You had given up on any silly dreams where you’d be the one to end up with Tadashi years ago.
You saw time and time again, what kinds of girls he became enraptured by when they would cling to his arm. Girls who you believed were prettier than you. Girls with perfect skin and hair and bodies which you thought were a thousand times more desirable than yours. Still, you’d be glad to have him by your side. He's your best friend.
Chilling in Yamaguchi's backyard in the sun, you basked in the serenity of it all. You loved his house. It was familiar and comforting, and you adored every single aspect of it. It smelled like him. Besides, you basically grew up here with him. It was your second home.
you were always welcome here. tadashi’s parents always loved you, and treated you like one of their own. they showered you with love and lots and lots of food whenever you came over. always asking for you to stay for dinner and then overnight. they insisted on your company. in truth, you knew that tadashi’s parents wanted you to end up together. of course you did. hell, your parents did too. neither of them ever really tried to hide it.
your families were close. in fact, your parents were like best friends with each other, and it was all because of you two, way back when, during your elementary school years.
as the story goes, one of your parents would come over to tadashi’s to come pick you up from your after school play-date, and then they would end up spending 2 hours talking and talking to yamaguchi’s parents, forgetting about you two entirely as you laughed and danced and played in the basement. over the years, your families kind of joined together. they enjoyed each other's company, and only found greater pleasure when they realized how well you two got along (and how adorable you were together) as we know now, they became best friends, which in turn only allowed your friendship with tadashi to grow even stronger. they made no secret of their hopes of you two becoming a pair. always hinting and nudging. purposefully having you two sit next to each other at the dinner table when you stayed to have supper with them, always insisting you share a room on vacations when your families took trips together, and you parents always speaking of how you’d never find a connection like you have with him, with anyone else.
well, at least they got one part right.
if there was one thing you knew, it was that you’ll never be able to have this with anyone else. you don’t think anyone could live up to him.
you were sat on a cushioned hammock chair, legs crossed, reading a book. yamaguchi wasn’t very far from you, lying on the ground by the pool, stomach down, on a striped blue and green towel. his long legs pass the towel, and lay against the hot concrete deck. he’s resting his chin on his arms as they’re crossed, and he looks up at you, (at least, he tries to) squinting as the bright sun obstructs his vision slightly. he can make out your figure and position and can decipher in two seconds that you’re reading. he knows you love that chair. it’s your favourite spot to read. over the years, he’s observed you. he’s observed you enough to know your favourite reading positions and favourite spots, and that comfy hammock provided you the utmost comfort. he prides himself of that chair, knowing how happy it makes you.
(it’s like a subtle flex for himself LMFAO.. like every time he sees you on it he’s like, yea that’s right, that chair’s in MY backyard, no one else’s. yn’s butt enjoys THIS spot the best, n it’s all cuz o’ me!)
“whatcha readin’?” he asks in a sing-song sort of voice
“a book.” you say flatly, not wanting to lose your place.
“what’s the title of the book?” he continues,
...
no reply.
“what kind of book is it?”
more silence. you wait for another question, but it doesn’t come. after a few short seconds, just when you think he’s done inquiring...
“is it smut?”
at this you break out laughing, “’dashi, please ’m just tryna read! leave me alone!” you try to sound annoyed, but you can’t hide the smile as you speak, or the giggle after every other word.
he smiles at the reaction he got from you.
using his hands to push himself up off the ground, he moves from his spot. he notes the way you eyed his back and arm muscles as he got up, but thinks nothing of it. he then wipes his hands on his shorts and takes a couple steps towards you.
you pretend as though you don’t see him, as if you’re still reading your book. in reality, you’re just worried that he caught you blatantly staring.
he stands in front of you for a good 10 seconds. you finally look up at him, though, only to complain that he’s blocking then sun, when he snatches the book from your hands, turns and walks off quickly, reading out-loud from the pages you had open. you immediately remove yourself from your comfy chair and chase him as he speed-walks around the pool. he finally relents after 2 whole minutes, and he’s finally about to give you back the book... but instead, he simply holds it in front of you and pulls it back every time you try to reach for it.
he had his fun like this for a while.
suddenly, in the midst of his teasing, he notices something. he notices the colourful tabs which stick out slightly from the ends of the pages. blue, pink, yellow, green... a devilish smirk appears on his face as he turns to face you. you both stop in your tracks.
“what are the red tabs for?” he asks slyly.
your face feels hot and your stomach tightens. how did he know?! at a loss for words and, for once, a comeback, you decided to resume your chase at full force, grabbing the closest thing you can find to hit him with as you went.
you settled on an orange pool noodle.
this will do, you thought as you snatched it from it’s upright position against the pool fence.
-
from the kitchen window, his mother watches you chase her son with a smile on her face and a glass of iced tea. you two could not be more adorable. she thinks...
or oblivious.
after weeks and weeks of hot, humid weather, it seemed as though mother nature had had enough.
the clouds had become her eyes, as she loomed and watched over your town. she cried and she cried, allowing rainwater to fall. it filled ponds and lakes, and turned streets into rivers.
simply put, it was pouring.
you stood at the window, watching as the harsh drops of rain hit the puddles out on the street, forming tiny waves that drifted away and faded until another took it’s place. the grey gloom from the weather outside felt like it was infiltrating your home, passing through the windows, reaching in. into your living room and into your chest, clutching your heart. you don’t know why it made you feel this way, but you didn’t like it.
you shut the curtains in a swift motion, leaving the room significantly darker than it was a couple seconds ago, as most of the lights had been turned off. you turned to face tadashi, who was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, playing solitaire. you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was playing it wrong.
“too gloomy for you?” he asked without looking away from the playing cards.
you hummed in response and sat on the couch across from him, watching him play for a while.
“wanna watch something?” you ask.
“what d’you feel like watching?” he questioned back, already knowing what to suggest to make you happy.
“i dunno, something comforting, maybe nostalgic, to take away from the gloomy weather?” you respond.
“how about fantastic mr. fox?”
“that’s perfect.”
while he made the peach tea, you set up the movie and the blankets. you soon found yourself cuddled up against him, warm mugs in hand as your shoulders and head bopped around slightly to the beat of the opening song.
it was a great choice. it was bright, and yellow and the exact opposite of whatever the world looked like outside right now.
you know that he was only doing this for you. tadashi knows how much it upsets you when it rains in such a way, so he did everything he could to make you feel all right, but for him, this weather was all too pleasant.
you never understood why yamaguchi tadashi loved rainy weather. sure, he could enjoy the sun and whatnot when it was out, but there was something about it that drew him to it. whenever it rained, he always seemed the most himself. it may have been your eyes tricking you, but every time you recall watching him as it poured, you could see a faint upturn to the sides of his mouth. as though it brought him a sense of calm. you simply didn’t get it. how could something so dreary and grey and gloomy bring such comfort to a person? most of all, how could it elicit these feelings in a person who reminded you so much of the sun? he was so bright.
when you looked at him, thought of him, never once had you ever seen rain. nor the cold or cloudy skies. you thought only of light. how could it make him so at ease? all it did for you was upset you. you hated to see the world in such a way. for, you preferred it when everything shone yellow and gold. it made you feel warm and safe.
it was funny, in a way. you two were so alike. or at least it always seemed so. maybe underneath, if you were to peel back the blankets of memories, you’d find that you’re not so similar after all. but maybe that’s a good thing,
why, haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?
the doorbell rings and pulls him out of his thoughts. you both already know who’s at the door. you place your mug on the coffee table and make your way to the front door. you open it as if you lived there and welcome your guest in with a bright smile. he gets up shortly after you, and upon arriving at the entrance door, he sees yachi.
hitoka yachi was one of his closest friends in high school. he actually thought she was really cute when he first met her, and when you started dating someone else, he figured he might do the same to try and get over his life-long crush on you.
it didn’t work.
he found out pretty quickly that he wasn’t attracted to her romantically, and she found out just as fast that she wasn’t to him either. they agreed to be good friends, and soon enough they started confiding in one another.
he admitted his secret longing for you to her.
she admitted that she liked girls.
yachi gives you a big hug before bringing to your attention the food and board games she brought. you thank and bring the stuff she brought to the kitchen, and in the meantime, tadashi welcomes her as well. when she sees that you’re out of earshot, she immediatley asks,
“so? anything?”
he turns to her with a sigh and a look that basically says, what are you even expecting? of course not.
she tilts her head and sighs.
she can’t wait until one of you grows the balls to ask the other out.
you shout out from the kitchen saying you’ll prepare something to eat for all of you before joining them for the rest of the movie. hitoka sees this as a perfect opportunity to talk about it. they walk over to the couch and get comfortable, sitting cross-legged across from each other. (optimal gossip/drama sharing position, if i do say so myself)
“honey, what you are so afraid of? you’re so perfect for each other. she may never make the first move, yknow. remember how she was with terushima? she couldn’t confess to him, let alone speak to him. the only reason that ever happened was because he went for it! yn’s had too many heartbreaks over silly, stupid people who didn’t show her enough love. she’ll always be unsure and need reassurance and you’re amazing at that! unless you make it clear to her that you want her, she’ll never try. she doesn’t want to get hurt again. neither of us want that for her, and you and i both know that if she were yours, you’d never let that happen.”
“but what if i do?”
“what are you talking about?” she asks in disbelief.
“what if i’m not enough for her? what if i end up hurting her because i can’t give her what she wants? i couldn’t bear it if we ruined what we have now.” it’s all for naught if she’s in love with you, anyways, he thinks.
he doesn’t add that part though.
tadashi has been... speculating.
he knows you like someone, and due to some unfortunate experiences from the past, you tend to prefer dating people you’re already friends with. he figures that the most likely option would be yachi. it makes sense, he supposes. aside from him, you spend most of your free time with her. she’s pretty, she’s incredibly smart and funny, and you find great comfort in her. you both got along really well when he first introduced you two to each-other. in fact, he thought it was almost scary, how quickly you were able to befriend her. though, you were like that with everybody. after all, you were like that with him, too. tadashi figures that after how long you’ve known one another, if you were bound to catch feelings for him at some point, it would have happened by now. yachi still has that chance, he thinks. you’ve known her quite a while, but not long enough, perhaps, for you to eliminate her as a possibility for a romantic partner. he’s acutely aware of the way you smile at her. how you’re always cuddling when she’s over, how you absentmindedly play with the ends of her hair as you lay your head on her shoulder. it’s not too far fetched of a theory.
what a waste, he thinks. now neither of you can be happy.
you and yachi deserve each other. maybe he deserves you too. but just because he’s deserving of something doesn’t mean he’ll get it.
hitoka sighs, and tadashi’s pulled out of his thoughts. she grabs his face by the cheeks and places a kiss on his forehead.
“you’re overthinking again, yams.” she whispers into his skin.
he stays quiet for a moment before responding,
“i know.”
you hear footsteps shuffle into the kitchen and turn your head to find hitoka leaning against the door frame.
“hey babes, whatcha makin?” she asks with a grin.
“just a quick lil platter. lil bit a fruits n veggies ‘nd some of the chips ‘nd stuff you brought.”
you’re licking the juice dripping down your hand from the strawberries you’ve just cut when she states,
“you look upset.”
there’s a pause. you turn, continuing the preparation of the food.
“it’s raining.” is all you respond. she notices the twitch in your brow. “no. no, no. there’s something else... it’s yams, isn’t it?” she retaliates. “why can’t you just ask him if he likes me? won’t that make things easier?” you whisper aggressively, wanting to let out your thoughts without letting tadashi hear you. “we’ve been over this yn. it wouldn’t be natural. if it ends up being the reason things go wrong i couldn’t live with myself. i would never want to do that to you or yamaguchi, and i don’t want to lose either of you. if something happens between you two it has to happen organically. asking through me isn’t organic.” you sigh, “i know, i know. ‘m sorry. that was very middle school of me.” she smiles gently, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. she moves to give you a hug, resting her forehead on your shoulder. she speaks softly, and it’s muffled, but you can still her her clearly enough as she says, “it’s okay, yn. i know it’s difficult but, if you think you’re up for it, just... try. okay? make a move. a small one. trust me.” a couple moments pass in silence. you take a breath before finally responding. “okay... thank you, ‘toka.”
the three of you reconvene in the living room and spend a few hours playing video games and watching movies until you’re bored out of your minds. lazing the day away was one of your favourite things to do with your best friends, especially on a day like this. after a very long while, hitoka decides that it’s time for her to leave. you give her the biggest, tightest hug and a kiss on the cheek. the action doesn’t go unnoticed by tadashi. he bids her farewell with a hug, and as he goes to pull away she whispers to him,
“make a move, before it’s too late.”
hitoka leaves with one final goodbye and a dramatic wave once she steps out into the wet weather. as she turns to back to head home, she wonders if tadashi will actually do what she told him to, or if you’ll both give up on something neither of you knew could even be. she hopes it’s not too late.
you’re back where you started, you on the couch, yams on the floor. the only difference now being that it’s way too late in the night. you sit in comfortable silence, the only noise being the gentle pitter patter of raindrops on the windowsill. after a couple moments, he stands to make himself comfortable near you. he lies his head on your crossed legs and gazes up at you. your fingers unconsciously make their way to his face, tracing all of his features, each delicate curve. he takes one of your hands. he plays with your fingers, traces your palm, interlocks your pinkies and rubs the inside of your wrist, as though he were trying to examine every square millimeter of your hand while never once taking his eyes off of yours. as though he were captivated, all consumed by you.
“i love you, tadashi.”
“i love you too, yn.”
“no, my angel. i love you. i’m in love with you.”
her frowns, before gently removing his hands from yours so that he can sit properly, face to face with you. you sit cross-legged across from each-other, just as he was with hitoka earlier that day. “what about yachi?” he asks. “what about her?” you respond. what did she have to do with this? had she already told him? “you- i mean.. don’t you like her?” you laugh at that, albeit nervously, “of course- of course i like her, she’s my best friend, dashi.”
he lets out a small sharp breath, as though he were frustrated. not at you, but more at himself for not being able to articulate and convey his thoughts properly. “no, yn, i mean... like.. love her, like her. as a partner. a girlfriend.”
“no, my love that’s.. that’s you.”
“me?” he repeats. you nod.
“how could it be me?”
“it’s always been you.”
he’s quiet for a while. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. you’re not exactly expecting a love confession back. you don’t even know how he feels about you beyond being his best friend. but at the same time, you didn't expect this. tadashi used to apologize a lot. he never really spoke his mind. he would bottle it up, more and more and more until he exploded. he always felt terrible afterwards.
“no.”
in that second, you feel as though your heart stopped beating. but even then, his blatant rejection is not an explanation. he continues for you. “no. you’re not in love with me. you may think you are, but you’re not. you’ll get over it soon enough and- and.. i’ll- i don’t wanna hurt you. no.... no.”
“dashi-” you start, but he’s interrupting you, “this can’t happen.”
your vision is blurry, clouded by tears. lips quivering, you manage a quiet,
“why?”
there are tears flowing down his cheeks now, too. he brings his hands up slowly, ever so gently, to cup your face. his hands are warm on your skin. he rests his forehead on yours. he breathes shakily. “i’m so sorry, angel. you’re the love of my life,” it was said softly but passionately, his voice cracking a little at the end, “but you have to go now.” you sob and shake your head. “don’t do this.” you say. he nods in protest, “i have to.” your tears fall quickly down your face. you can’t remember the last time you cried like this. you didn’t expect to lose him. not today. not like this. his palms are wet from your salty tears. “go.” he whispers you scrunch your eyes shut, praying the tears away. praying all of this away, hoping it’s just a bad dream. a nightmare, the worst, most realistic one you’ve ever had. but when you open your eyes, he’s still there. his lips are quivering, much like yours, and his cheeks are as pink and his eyes are. you hate to say that he’s still as beautiful as ever. he’s not looking at you anymore. he can’t stand to look at you, let alone in the eye. the warmth and comfort of his hands have left the sides of your face, and you feel empty. you stand slowly, making your way out of his house. the place you used to call your second home. it all comes crashing down on you, much like the rain outside. you’re colder than ever. with nothing else to lose, you walk. you walk to the only other person you can fully trust. you go to yachi’s.
you hesitate several times on your way there, but you figure if anyone knows how to help, it’s yachi. when you get to her apartment, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning. she opens the door a crack before realizing it’s you. it takes her a second more to notice the tears streaking your face and the way you sniffle before she’s ushering you inside with a hand on your back, and another in your hand. you’re slightly hunched, with your free hand over your heart.
“it hurts.” you sob.
“oh, baby. what happened?” she asks, but you she’s not expecting an answer yet. not until you’re comfortable and dry.
she brings you to her room and sits you down on her bed. she undresses you gently but quickly, and puts you in the clothes she keeps at her place for you in case you need to sleep over. they’re comfy and oversized. you feel yourself starting to warm up. all throughout, your eyes are stuck to the floor, unmoving. she then moves you under the covers and holds you close. your eyes burn from how much you’ve cried, and now that they’ve dried, they feel heavy. you fall asleep before you can even process it.
you wake up to the smell of pancakes. you almost cry again when you remember what happened last night. your body screams at you as you get up and shuffle into the kitchen. hitoka turns from the stove when she hears your footsteps. she smiles a small smile and gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “i’m making you your favourite. it looks like you need it.” you hum in response as she tells you to sit on the couch and put something on the tv. moments later, she’s placing two plates on the coffee table and taking her spot next to you. you’re filing through the shows without really paying attention to the names. you’re in a daze. hitoka’s soft voice brings you back to her.
“do you wanna talk about it?”
the truth is, yachi already knows everything. well, at least from tadashi’s point of view. after you fell asleep last night, yachi took it upon herself to call him. pacing back and forth in her little kitchen, she tried to calm yamaguchi’s breathing over the phone as he panics over the end of your friendship and his decision. his breaths are heavy and he hiccups every once in a while, sometimes even choking when trying to take in too much air, too fast. “shh, shhh, honey. it’s okay. go slow.” when his breathing regulates and he’s left exhaling shakily, he tells her how you confessed your feelings for him, only for him to reject all of it by pushing you away while telling you that it wouldn’t work and that he’d hurt you. when he explains to her how you tried to reason with him, she sighs, “i though we talked about this, yams. she would do anything for you. she loved you still. she tried for you even as you were actively trying to push her away.”
“i told him that i was in love with him...” you start.
she doesn’t respond. she waits, knowing that you’re not done. “he-,” you sigh, “he told me that... that i wasn’t truly in love with him, and that he’d hurt me.” tears flood your eyes as she hugs you closer. there’s a pause before you finish in a pained whisper. “he told me i was the love of his life.” she pulls back at that, hands on your shoulders. “he, what?” you sob with a hand over your mouth.
tadashi didn’t tell her about this. she knew it of course, that he was in love with you. she’s known for ages. but he failed to inform her about his confession to you. finally, you both knew, and yet, things weren’t right. you should be together right now. holding each other and happy. “i’m so sorry, baby.” it’s whispered into your hair. she doesn't know what else to offer as consolation. she knows things will turn out all right, but as is known, yachi believes in the art of the organic. he'll figure it out soon enough, she decides. for now, the best she could do is comfort you. she wishes that things had gone differently. her heart breaks as you sob into her arms.
it’s been a week. you feel a little better, but the hurt in your heart still lingers. the sting is more painful than you’d like it to be. you wish it could lessen quicker. yachi stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, holding up different tops against her chest.
you watch her from the bed, the netflix show playing on your laptop long forgotten as you help her make decisions for her outfit tonight. she eyes you from the mirror, “you sure you don’t wanna come?” you shake your head. “i don't know if i can handle a party right now. my poor aching heart needs a rest.” you exclaim sarcastically, resting the back of your hand against your forehead as you drop your head back, feigning distress. she chuckles before searching through her earrings to find the right pair. “maybe,” she says. “but maybe it’ll be good for you. i know you’re not one for rebounds or anything, but at the very least you can drink your sorrows away.” she finishes and turns back to you holding a different jewel against each ear, silently urging you to decide for her. “the silver ones.” you decide. she hums with a nod. you think about it. it doesn’t sound that great, but you’ve been cooped up in your room for days. maybe it’ll be nice to let loose a bit. she’s right, you think, booze might help. “okay, i’ll come.” she jumps excitedly with a clap of her hands, dragging you up and off the bed to her closet to help you pick something out for tonight.
the club is loud and cramped. hitoka holds your hand as she leads the way to the bar, seemingly knowing the layout of the place perfectly. you couldn’t blame her, you suppose. hinata throws a lot of parties. it wasn’t unlike him to rent out a place for the night. it’s not like it would be empty, either. shoyo also knows a lot of people. when finally at the bar, you spot hinata, along with terushima and another guy you haven’t met before. shoyo greets you with a big smile and a hug. “yn! i didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaims, though it’s a little slurred. you nod at the other two, not missing the wink terushima throws at you. you and terushima didn’t necessarily end on a bad note. it’s been a long time anyways, but that was certainly unexpected of him. you can’t even remember the last time you spoke to him. yachi gets herself a drink, as well as one for you. she asks if it’s okay if she leaves you for a minute to make the tour around the club and say hi to people. after your confirmation, she leaves, though not after a final check in. yuji takes no time in swooping in after waving off his friend. “heard about your little break-up.” he says. you groan. “we weren’t even dating.” you clarify with a grumble. he hums and moves closer. “i can help.” he adds suggestively. “o- oh uhm, i don’t think-” “no, no. nothing like that,” he says. “but i’lll gladly be your drinking buddy if you’d let me? maybe even a dance partner?” you smile. you missed him. sure he was kinda sleazy, but he doesn’t mean any harm. he could be a really good friend sometimes. “thanks, yuji.” he grins toothily before jutting his chin in the direction of your cup. “bottoms up, girl.” you let out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff before downing the contents inside.
yamaguchi really wasn’t planning on coming tonight. a party is probably the last thing he needs right now. he didn’t want to face yachi, or you. you were never really a party person. he thinks to himself. hopefully, you’re not there. he gets dressed quickly and makes his way out, hoping to find a way to forget about you tonight. except, when he makes his way into the house, he spots you immediately. on the dance floor. with terushima yuji. he tries to ignore it. but you look so happy. your hips are moving, hands in the air, so carefree. you look beautiful, as always. yuji spots him. tadashi watches as he makes his way even closer to you, grabbing your waist while keeping his eyes locked on yamaguchi. he’s challenging him. he’s daring him. daring him to make a move and do something about it. he doesn’t. instead, he turns and makes his way to the bar. i need a drink, he thinks. or five.
you spend hours dancing, taking turns with yachi, shoyo, and even bokuto. bokuto was lively and incredibly funny. you dare say you enjoyed dancing with him the most. although, terushima was a close second. soon enough, yuji asks to steal you back from bokuto. he grabs your hand and brings you closer before turning you around so that your back is to his chest. he puts his hands on your hips and dances in sync with your movements. yamaguchi watches from the indoor balcony that looks down upon the dancefloor. he watches as terushima grinds his hips sensually and rakes his fingers against your sides. tadashi downs his drink, before asking the closest girl next to him to dance.
she agrees eagerly, thrilled that the mysteriously quiet freckled guy she’d been eyeing the entire night has noticed her. it doesn’t take long for you to spot him. he’s holding a girl’s hand, leading her onto the dancefloor.
you didn’t even know he was here.
and now you wish you did, because she’s gorgeous. tall and fit. her platinum blonde hair shines purple from the lights above. they fit well together, you think as you admire him for the first time tonight. his hair is tied up in a half-up half down ponytail. the hairstyle exposes the hidden highlights he has done. the colour matches her hair perfectly. he has a couple loose strands, but they don’t manage to hide his piercings. he wears a black cropped graphic tee. from the waist down, he wears all black. the shirt’s length (or lack thereof) shows off the fishnets he wears underneath his baggy ripped jeans. (yk like those punk yamaguchi drawings) he looks fucking incredible. it’s quite different to what he usually wears, but maybe that’s what makes it all the more alluring. you break out of your trance when you realize that he’s still here, dancing with someone else. you couldn’t fault him. you were dancing with someone else, too.
yuji feels you freeze up against him. he leans over your shoulder to look at your face and sees the tears building up. you saw them.
suddenly very gentle, he tucks away the hair from your face before whispering in your ear, “i’ll take you somewhere else.” you nod, sparing tadashi one last look before following terushima out of the bar.
you find yourself in the backseat of teru’s car, though, not how one may think. you sit in silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle from you. “if you wqant.. and only if you want.. i can help you. for real this time.” you look at him, with tears in your eyes, and pretty lips. “gonna help me forget about him?” you ask, voice quivering as you struggle to hold back a new wave of tears. “i promise, my angel.” you almost flinch at the petname. it sounding so unfamiliar, so wrong, on his lips. you don’t say anything. instead, you nod, shuffling closer to him. you fist the collar of his shirt. he puts his index finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards, ever so slightly. you look so pretty, he thinks. he leans in, and your finger tighten further into the fabric of his shirt. you’re hesitating. yuji knows this, so he continues slowly. you’re barely leaning in. you can’t remember the last time you kissed someone like this. you felt so vulnerable. your lips were close now. the reality of it all hits you now. if you moved so much as a couple inches you’d be kissing him. you get deja vu. it takes you back to that time in the library. he was so so close to you. it felt so intimate, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. slowly and deeply all at once. he was tadashi. that’s who you wanted. not this. not terushima, nor anyone else.
that’s when he feels it. it’s less of a push but more of a pause. it did nothing, of course. it barely did anything. in fact, it would have been imperceptible had the situation been any different. you barely even acknowledged it yourself. he pulls back and lets out a breath, looking at you with worry in his brow. yours hands unleash their grip on his shirt and flatten against his chest. you looked to him in moderate confusion. “it’s okay,” he whispers. “you don’t have to force yourself to want this.”
you knew it yourself. you didn’t want this. you wanted tadashi. you wanted him with you, in your arms. his lips on yours, your fingers interlocked with his. his warmth, and no one else's. it’s your turn to let out a breath, though, more out of despair than anything. you rest your head on his chest, in between where your hands lay. “i’m so sorry.” gentle hands find their way to your head and back, one stroking lightly along your spine, sending shivers down your back, and the other massaging your scalp. you stay like this for a while. the two of you sit in the realization of what happened, and what could’ve happened. it’s not awkward. you lift your head and take another breath. “thank you.” it’s said with a small smile, and he can see that there’s sadness lingering behind it.
“he has to be the biggest idiot in the universe to give up someone like you.” he says, with a palm to your cheek. you smile with a scoff, “you gave me up, too, yuji.” you quip, though it’s playful. “i did. but you and i both know that we weren’t meant to be together. nor will we ever be. you’re supposed to be with tadashi.” he reasons, with a poke to your forehead. “i know,” you whisper. “i just wish he knew it too.”
soon enough, you’re walking back into the party with yuji on your arm. hitoka spots you almost immediately, as does tadashi. yachi rushes over to you, exclaiming how worried she was when she couldn’t find you. it doesn’t take long before you’re saying your goodbyes to the boys and walking back out the door you had just entered only a couple minutes ago. yamaguchi watches you leave. he almost had half the heart to go and chase you out the door, but is reminded of the girl on his arm when she plays with the bracelet on his wrist. the one you made him.
his mood drops significantly fast.
he rips his arm away from her, not caring about being seen as rude. he narrows his eyes at something near the bar, or rather someone, and makes his way over there.
yuji is leant over the counter with a drink in his hand. tadashi takes his spot on the right of him, back against the bar, arms crossed. “something uh, happening between you n yn?” he asks, voice devoid of geniality. terushima only grins, slinking his eyes to the door you left in, then back to him. they make direct eye contact. there’s a dry smile on yuji’s face. it’s not friendly. “yeah,” terushima responds cooly, not missing the way yamaguchi’s shoulders and arms tighten in their hold from the corner of his eye. he takes a sip of his drink. “is she not available?” yuji asks smugly, challenging him. “available?!” tadashi repeats incredulously, and maybe a little too quickly, too, because when he takes in the raised eyebrow and smirk on terushima’s face, he realizes that he’s never wanted to slap someone so badly in his life. yuji smiles as he watches the boy walk away wordlessly.
you couldn’t sleep. the bed was warm, the room was dark, and you were tired. and yet, you couldn’t sleep. your thoughts were so loud. “you sigh so noisily.” you hear from next to you. “oh. sorry, ‘toka.” she hums. the bed shakes and you hear shuffling noises. it all stops once she’s laying on her right side, facing you. you can barely see her, but you know she’s watching you with furrowed brows. “what happened with yuji while you two were gone?” she asks. you sense the worried quiver in her voice. you’re not one to have rebounds or meaningless hook-ups. especially not with your ex. she knows that. she wouldn’t really blame you though, with all that’s happening with tadashi. but, despite rationalizing the fact that you could have very well hooked-up with terushima, a very large part of her hopes that you hadn’t. it would crush yamaguchi if he found out, regardless of his rejection of you. she knows you’d come to regret it too.
you take a deep breath. “tadashi was there. with a girl. yuji… well… he offered to go somewhere a little quieter,,” hitoka inhales sharply at that, but doesn’t say anything. she lets you continue, giving you the benefit of the doubt. “and.. well we went to his car and.. he then offered to- uhm.. help.” there’s dread and tension in the air. anticipation. and not the good kind. there’s a pause before you continue. “we were going ot kiss. but.. i couldn’t do it.” you laugh dryly. “he noticed my apprehension before i did. it was like my body knew,” yachi lets out her breath, relieved. “it felt so wrong, to want to kiss someone that wasn’t tadashi. and i’ve only kissed him once! when we were kids!” it’s her turn to laugh now, but more out of shock and respite. “im glad. if anything, let’s just hope it makes that stupid boy realize what he’s given up.” you hum in confusion at that. “did you not see the way he was looking at you when you re-entered the bar stuck to teru’s arm?! he looked murderous. sometimes i forget that that boy can feel anger. it looks terrifying on him.”
silence falls upon the two of you. you find yourself drifting off to sleep before you hear three very loud knocks. from yachi’s apartment. the two of you sit up at the noise, hearts beating fast. you both patter to the door, not before grabbing a bat on the way to the entrance door. hitoka prepares herself before opening the door, you not too far away. she open the door a crack, the light from outside her apartment illuminating her face. you see the way the fluorescent bulbs in the hall accentuate the expressions of her face. a frown, quickly morphed to confusion, the panic melting away in an instant.
“where is she? please. i know she’s here.” you’d recognize his voice anywhere. it follows you wherever you go, in your mind and in your dreams, every single night. you make your way to the door. hitoka automatically moves aside, and you take her place in the doorway. there’s silence as you watch each other, as though it were the very first time and the millionth all at once.
“i’ll be back in a bit.” yachi announces, before grabbing her phone and her jacket, making her way out the door. the two of you watch her leave, the quiet in between you even more deafening that before. “come in.” you say. it’s extremely quiet, but he hears it anyway. making his way inside, he diffidently takes a seat on the couch, as though it were his first time here. he’s still in the clothes he wore at the party. you close the door and go to sit near him. you’re about to say something, though you’re not even sure what. you’re extremely thankful as he cuts you off-
“why were you with him?”
“he’s my friend?” you offer confusedly.
“but he’s your ex.” he knows it’s a silly argument. the dumbest, actually. he’s best friends with yachi, and they dated back in high school, too. in all honesty, he’s just upset. mind a jumbled mess of jealousy and hurt and anger and despair. you don’t offer anything to counter that, other than a knowing tilt of your head. you both know he was just talking to talk. after all, his friendship with yachi hasn’t changed one bit. not even after their break-up. you knew just as well as he did that it was a dumb assertion.
“you left with him.” he continues.
“and then i came back.” you counteract.
“yes, you did,” he scoffs lightly, “with him. on his arm.”
“and what’s it to you, huh? why do you care?” you ask, frustrated.
“you know exactly why i care,” he says with a clenched jaw. “i told you we couldn’t be together, but i never denied loving you.”
you laugh bitterly, with tears building up in your eyes, “fuck, you’re making this so difficult, ‘dashi.”
you bring your hand up to your forehead, massaging it. there’s a pause. it feels like it lasts forever. you know it’s coming.
“did you kiss him?”
you stare directly into his eyes, gaze never once wavering, “you should know by now, that my heart belongs to no one but you-”
“but did you kiss him?!” it’s rushed and frantic. his heart feels like it’s being clenched in his chest. his ribs closing in and squeezing, leaving no room to breathe or focus. he feels lightheaded, awaiting your answer. it’s painful and agonizing, not knowing what truly happened when you were gone and hurting, possibly in the arms of another.
“i wanted to,” you whisper. his heart stings. “i was so sick of crying over you. i wanted to forget about you. to forget that you told me that i was the love of your life, only to find you in the arms of another mere days after the fact, and i was finally given the chance to do so,” his head drops to his hands, elbows resting on his knees. his hair falls in between his fingers. he pulls, feeling the bite at every root. his heart feels like it’s being pierced with a million scorching needles. in agony.
“... but i couldn’t.” his head shoots back up. he watches you with glassy eyes and damp cheeks. “i wanted it to be you. i couldn’t fathom being with someone that wasn’t you.” you shuffle closer to him while holding back sobs, “why couldn’t you just let me love you?” he breathes shakily, “i didn’t want to hurt you.”
“but you did, ‘dashi. you hurt me so bad.”
he hates hearing it. it sounds so fucking harsh, his worst fear come true. he feels like he’s gonna throw up. “i’m sorry, angel. it was dumb and so stupid and i’ll never do it again because i can’t lose you. i thought i could do it. i thought i could be without you and bear it while you forgot about me to find someone else but i can’t do it. i want to be selfish. i want to be with you.” you’re close enough to rest your forehead on his. “i couldn’t forget about you even if i tried…” he brings his hands to your cheeks. his grip soft but firm, as though you were to slip from his grasp if he wasn’t careful. as though you would break. tadashi’s not letting that happen again.
“you’re my everything, angel.” he whispers against your lips.
“and you’re mine.”
thunder strikes outside as the sound of raindrops begin to patter against the windowsill, just like that day. the day that almost broke the two of you, never to be the same again.
he kisses you sweetly, a small smile on his lips.
maybe it’s because it was an excuse to care for you and be close to you. maybe it’s because he genuinely did find comfort in the rain. or maybe it brought back memories of the good ol’ days.
or maybe, it’s a reminder of what he has. what he can lose. what he almost did lose. and how fucking lucky he is to have you. his tiana. his evangeline.
he watches you from the living room entrance. his head it tipped back a little, a closed-lip grin on his face as the back of his head rests against the doorframe. you’re sitting on the couch, cuddled up in a blanket as you watch your favourite movie. the one you watched together as kids. princess and the frog.
he pushes himself off the doorframe and makes his way to you, handing you a mug of your favourite herbal tea. you look up at him with a grateful beam, and he can only duck down to place a loving kiss against your forehead.
yamaguchi takes his place on the couch next to you to watch the rest of the movie, but he doesn’t watch the movie. he just can’t take his eyes off of you.
you get prettier everyday, he thinks, as you mouth the words of the movie, knowing it all by heart.
he sighs contentedly.
tadashi smiles as he realizes he finally has the happily ever after he’s dreamed of since he was a child. the one he knew he wanted when he first watched the ending scene of princess and the frog, where tiana and naveen dance on the balcony in the moonlight.
Side note: Don't forget to read the note at the end of this headcannon, Thank you!
Hinata Shoyo
Hinata is very loud and chattery especially when it comes to the topic of volleyball, But ever since the first time he met you he couldn't help but fluster every time you visibly beam at him whenever he's near. Of course because of this he is mostly near you all the time and it's for his selfish reason to stare at you as if he could see the little flowers floating around you.
Kageyama Tobio
I totally think this guy has acts of service for his love language. Anyways, imagine his reaction when you start doing things for him like wiping his sweat off, buying some milk from the vending machine, etc. He was very flustered from the feeling of being taken care of by someone/doing things for him. After that he got used to you just doing things for him which he deeply appreciates.
Tsukishima Kei
He really likes to rile you up, like hiding your things or annoying you just to see the cute expressions your face makes never fails to make him blush. He is also a very selfish person if he says so himself, so do expect him to be a bit possessive over you
Yamaguchi Tadashi
He definitely has a physical touch as his love language, Every time you do physical touch things like hugging him from behind or holding his hands and softly tracing the small veins on his hand makes him blush tons but the one thing that makes him go full on red like Kirishima's hair is when you touch his face and kiss his freckles. Since he got bullied because of his freckles, he just feels loved when you do it.
Yachi Hitoka
I'll be straight forward for this, She absolutely likes it when you call her nicknames that make her feel confident and pretty. She gets super shy and stutters sometimes and would mostly likely scold you to not call her that in public but would respond to it unconsciously every time. It makes her feel special when you call her those.
Note: Hello again! I apologize for uploading late!! :') It's nice to interact with you all again lol I would just like to remind you that if you have anything you would like to say to me, please dm me instead because I couldn't really view my inbox right now so whoever sent an ask I'm sorry I couldn't see what you sent T~T and Please note that I do not own the characters and they are all rightfully belong to Haruichi Furudate!! That's all if you have any requests please dm me lol Thank you have a great day/night! :D
Btw Reblogs are very much appreciated so feel free to reblog it lol
Smol edit: My dumb self forgot to do my taglist woops lol aaaa forgive mee T~T. If you want to be part of my taglist, please dm me asap! Thank youu :DD
Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~
Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)
Word Count: 2552
A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon
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“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.
“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”
“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”
Lies.
You are lying to me.
You are in love with me.
You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.
I know you can.
what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”
“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”
I said yes - I know I did.
That doesn’t mean I meant it.
You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.
Why aren’t you realising it?
I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.
I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.
I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.
“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”
I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.
That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.
I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.
I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.
I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.
One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.
“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.
“I don’t believe that.”
I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.
I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.
I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.
He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?
The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.
Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.
“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”
My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.
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I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.
I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.
I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.
You made me make you my everything.
My voice was tuned to calm you down.
My hands we moulded to keep you warm.
My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.
But I do - I need you to be me.
One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?
You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.
They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.
You are the only one who wants more.
You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.
You are the one craving for their touch.
You want them, but they don’t want you.
I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.
I care about you fucking me up like this.
I will no longer wait for your messages.
I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.
I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.
You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.
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“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.
I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.
“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.
I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.
“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “
“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.
“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”
“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.
“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.
Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?
“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.
Holy shit, you’re hot.
“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.
Holy shit, you’re hot.
You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.
You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.
“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.
“N- no.”
Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.
“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”
“T-Thanks.”
God, stop stuttering.
“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”
You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.
Cute.
They called me cute.
I’m breathing, right?
Okay, I’m breathing.
As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.
It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.
I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.
“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.
“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.
You laughed.
“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.
You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.
“What are you waiting for? Sit.”
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“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.
“Yeah, on my middle finger.”
I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.
“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”
You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.
Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.
It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.
“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.
“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”
You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.
I loved it.
It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.
I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.
“I took a few creative liberties, but-”
“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”
You’re amazing.
You smiled, getting off your chair.
“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”
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“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.
Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.
“I guess…” I whisper.
“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.
People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.
“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.
You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.
“Open your mouth, my liege.”
After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.
Ooh, mango.
“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.
It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.
I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.
Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.
A soft thank you came from you as you continued.
Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.
So cute.
“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.
“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.
You’re interesting, Y/N.
I nod.
“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.
“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.
“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.
Thank God they didn’t listen to them.
“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.
You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.
“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.
“Wait - we’re the same age?”
“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.
“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.
“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.
“Come on!” I say, laughing.
“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.
You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…
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“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.
“And I you, my friend.”
I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.
I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…
I walk back to the cashier.
“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.
“No, no…”
Come on, say it.
“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.
Holy shit.
“Yes, please.”
You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.
How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?
“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”
