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“So,” Tadashi started, lying sideways on Tsukishima’s bed with his head hanging off of the edge, his eyes trained on where Tsukishima sat at his desk. “You’ve been seventeen for more than a month now, right, Tsukki?” (As if he didn’t know.)
“Mm, yeah.” Tsukishima didn’t bother to turn around.
“Does it feel any different than sixteen? Seventeen somehow seems like a cooler number… a cooler age.” Tadashi idly pulled on his bottom lip, his eyes trailing up from Tsukishima to the dinosaurs on his shelves.
“It’s not different,” he responded, and Tadashi heard him start to drum his pencil on the top of the desk.
“Disappointing, then,” Tadashi spoke with a frown, flopping over to lie on his stomach. His arms dangled off the edge of the bed before he propped himself up onto his elbows and set his head in his hands, his feet kicked lazily in the air behind him, and his eyes flickered back down to Tsukishima, to the exposed back of his neck, where the bumps of his spine slightly protruded.
Tsukishima spoke after the slight lull in conversation, looking back over his shoulder to a slightly flushed Tadashi: “What’s twenty-seven times three? I forgot my calculator at school.”
“Oh,” Tadashi breathed, his eyes meeting Tsukishima’s. “That’s tragic, Tsukki,” he teased. “Good thing you have me. It’s nine times nine. Eighty-one.”
“Thanks.” The drumming of his pencil stopped as he wrote, but the absence of sound made Tadashi somewhat ansty. He tapped his fingers against his cheek.
“Mhm,” Tadashi hummed, distracted. “Seventeen really doesn’t feel any different?” he asked again after a few ticks of relative silence.
“You’ll know in two days, won’t you.”
“‘Spose so,” Tadashi shrugged, “I just thought you could give me some insight.”
“Well,” Tsukishima started, turning again to look at Tadashi, his tone still deadpan, “When people ask how old I am, I have to say seventeen. That’s the only difference to date.”
“Really?” Tadashi sighed, “That’s kind of lame, Tsukki.”
“Did you feel any different when you turned sixteen last year?” Tsukishima inquired in response, raising an eyebrow. He leaned back in his chair, the chair pressing against the desk behind it.
Tadashi hummed pensively. “I thought I would,” he answered, “because sixteen is, like, the age to be in all the movies, you know? But now that I think about it, I guess I didn’t really feel any different.”
“There you go,” Tsukishima said with a shrug, turning back to his homework. “There’s your answer.”
Tadashi groaned, flipping back onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “You’re telling me that I’ll never feel different?”
“Not because of your birthday, at least.”
They were quiet, then, the only sound in the room Tsukishima’s pencil against his paper.
As Tadashi walked home from extra serving practice at the Shimada Mart, he realized that this would be his seventh birthday celebrated with Tsukishima. And seven years, he thought, was a really long time. That was… roughly two-fifths of his entire life, though somehow it seemed like he’d known Tsukishima longer, considering the importance he had to Tadashi’s life.
He sighed and shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets as he walked, the chilled November air nipping at any exposed skin and the slight humidity causing his breath to fog in front of him. (He’d have to remember to wear a scarf tomorrow.)
Tomorrow, November 10th.
The team would do something, probably, to commemorate Tadashi’s seventeenth birthday—something like buy him a slice of cake from the Sakanoshita Store or give him a collective card, he was sure. He’d appreciate it regardless of what it was.
But still, Tadashi was having a hard time getting excited about his birthday. Hinata had bounced around him throughout practice, asking him if he were happy that he was finally joining the “cool kids” club, which was apparently everyone seventeen and older—and that would include everyone but Kageyama, which was surely Hinata’s intention. Tadashi had humored him and said yes, that he was excited, but it was more or less the truth. (It was less.)
After all, his birthday was just another day out of the entire year, so there was no need to bat an eyelash at it.
Tadashi woke the following morning to seventy-six text messages. Thirty-two of them were from Hinata and thirty-nine of them were from Kageyama, as if they’d been texting each other at the same time and seeing who could send Tadashi the most—which, they probably had been. Tadashi wouldn’t put it behind them. Kageyama had actually just sent out “h-a-p-p-y b-i-r-t-h-d-a-y” with one letter per message three times, and Hinata would probably be angry once he heard about that, because all of his messages were at least three words long (and most of them pertained to joining the “cool kids” club).
Aside from that, Tadashi had five messages to read. One was from his father, who had already left the house for work and sent a message to Tadashi since they wouldn’t see each other until later. Two other messages were also from relatives, one from his grandmother and one from one of his uncles. Sugawara had sent a text on behalf of the whole team, which had an image attached of the team posing in front of the whiteboard on which they usually wrote out their plays, but this time around “Happy Birthday, Yamaguchi!” was scrawled across the board in Ukai’s handwriting. He smiled, and then wondered when they’d had time to take the picture. Maybe he had been in the bathroom? He supposed it didn’t matter.
Tadashi opened the message from Tsukishima last.
“Congrats on another lap around the sun,” it said.
The message was a little different than the one Tadashi had sent to Tsukishima on his birthday, but Tadashi wasn’t surprised. He would’ve been more surprised if the messages resembled each other, as he couldn’t imagine Tsukishima sending a message with a string of exclamation points, emoticons, and hearts on the end.
Tadashi yawned as he typed out replies to everyone, and after he’d done so, he stepped out of bed. He supposed he was seventeen, now. And as usual, Tsukishima was right. It felt like a normal morning, like a sixteen-year-old morning, excluding the seventy-six messages part.
Tsukishima had saved him from getting his hopes up, anyway, then.
Once Tadashi had gotten dressed and brushed his teeth, he padded down the hallway and into the kitchen. His mother sat at the counter, eating some kind of “health brand” cereal that she knew Tadashi hated (which was probably why she bought it, so he wouldn’t eat it).
Tadashi entered the room, yawning as he opened the refrigerator door. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “Happy birthday, Tada-chan!”
Tadashi felt the tips of his ears heat up at the name. “Mom,” he whined, snatching a carton of juice from the fridge. He didn’t feel like eating much breakfast.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, tapping her spoon against the edge of her bowl. “But really, how do you feel? Any older?”
Tadashi paused, holding the carton of juice above the glass he was about to pour it into. “A day older, I guess,” he replied, tilting the carton so juice poured into the cup. The juice sloshed up the side of the glass, almost spilling over.
“Hmm,” his mother hummed teasingly, “I think Kei’s rubbed off on you. You’re being reasonable for once.”
Tadashi glared at his mother, before speaking, “It’s my birthday, Mom. You’re not supposed to insult me.”
“Is it against the rules?”
“Yes,” Tadashi confirmed with a nod, bringing the glass of juice up to his mouth. He spoke again against the rim of the glass, “It’s against the birthday rules.”
“Alright,” she sighed, though there was a smile on her face. “In that case, Tadashi, you look really nice today.”
Tadashi snorted. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I mean it!” she insisted, finishing her bowl of cereal and standing from her seat at the counter.
“I look the same as every day,” Tadashi replied, swirling the juice around in the glass before taking another drink.
“You look good every day, then.”
Tadashi rolled his eyes, but his mother’s back was facing him as she washed her bowl in the sink, so she didn’t see (which was probably a good thing). “You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”
“Maybe so.” She turned around slightly to wink at Tadashi.
“No insults,” Tadashi reminded. “It’s my birthday.”
“Accept the compliments, then,” she retorted, finishing the bowl and sliding Tadashi’s lunchbox across the counter to him.
“Okay,” he gave in, taking the box from her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She nodded at him, and then spoke: “I’m going to take a shower now. Have a good day at school, Tada-chan!” She leaned down towards him and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’ll try,” he replied, finishing his juice as she walked out of the room.
That was his first drink finished being seventeen, he thought randomly. It also felt no different from his last drink finished when he was sixteen, except for the fact that that had been water, and not juice, and he felt a little sick this time around. (So maybe it was a little different. But not really.)
Tadashi pulled his bookbag over his shoulder after he’d put on a jacket and slid on his shoes, tapping his toes on the floor. As an afterthought, he turned around and grabbed his green scarf off the hook, reaching and tying it behind his neck.
He wondered absentmindedly if Tsukishima would wear his purple scarf today as he stepped out his front door, into the cold morning air. He buried his chin into his scarf, grateful that he’d remembered it.
His question was answered after a few minutes of quiet walking, when he met up with Tsukishima, who had been waiting for him. He was wearing the scarf, though it hung loosely around his neck, unlike Tadashi’s which was snug to him.
“Hey, Tsukki,” he greeted, stopping momentarily when he reached Tsukishima.
“Hey,” Tsukishima replied as they began to walk together. “Happy birthday.”
“Yeah,” Tadashi replied, “Thanks.”
Throughout the rest of the walk, the pair drifted between easy conversation and comfortable silence, minus the sounds of the soles of their shoes continuously tapping against the sidewalk beneath them.
The soft atmosphere was broken as they approached the clubroom and Nishinoya’s yell of “Yamaguchi—i!” could probably be heard from miles away.
Tadashi braced himself for the impact that he knew was coming, and sure enough, as soon as Nishinoya was in range, he launched himself onto Tadashi’s back and pounded one of his hands against Tadashi’s shoulder.
“Happy birthday!” he exclaimed (directly in Tadashi’s ear, but Tadashi pretended not to mind), “I was thinking that, since it’s your birthday and all, I could probably buy you a popsicle after practice!”
“Wow, what a good senpai,” Tsukishima deadpanned.
“Tsukishima,” Nishinoya growled, but his tone turned back to cheerful after a moment. “So what kind would you want? Soda, probably, right?”
Tadashi chuckled, leaning forward a bit to better balance the weight of Nishinoya on his back. “You don’t need to buy me anything, really,” he replied, and in turn Nishinoya hopped off of him.
“What? Why not?” Nishinoya inquired, beginning to walk with his underclassmen towards the clubroom.
“Eh,” Tadashi paused, “It’s just another day.”
Nishinoya cocked his head. “It’s your birthday,” he argued.
“Yeah,” Tadashi agreed. “And?”
“It’s your birthday!” Nishinoya’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion when Tadashi shrugged, as if he couldn’t comprehend Tadashi’s reasoning. Tsukishima remained quiet.
They all reached the clubroom before anyone spoke up again, though as they approached the door they could hear fighting coming from the inside.
“No, Kageyama-kun, when he walks in you have to yell ‘Happy birthday!’ and then—”
“I want to shoot the streamers first.”
“But what if someone walks in and it’s not Yamaguchi?”
There was a pause.
“Whatever, dumbass.”
Tsukishima laughed that laugh that he had reserved for when stupid people did stupid things before he said, “Their idiocracy even seeps through walls.”
Tadashi laughed into his hands before pressing the clubroom door open, pretending he hadn’t just heard the oddball duo unknowingly foil their plans.
A second after Tadashi walked through the door, Hinata and Kageyama exclaimed “Happy birthday!” in somewhat unison, and following that, Kageyama shot some streamers in Tadashi’s general direction. The streamers promptly fell to the ground at Tadashi’s feet, and he mustered a smile at them.
“Thanks,” he said as Tsukishima and Nishinoya entered the room behind him.
Tsukishima grimaced at the streamers on the floor, probably thinking of how much of a hassle they were for nothing.
“Of course!” Hinata replied, smiling brightly, “You’re part of the cool kids club now, after all.”
Kageyama glared at Hinata, before he spoke: “Shut up about the stupid club.”
“King’s still mad that he’s the youngest?” Tsukishima asked condescendingly, laughing to himself as Kageyama flipped him off.
Tadashi shook his head at the conversation before him and then turned away to start getting dressed for practice.
The day was passing slowly. Most people in Tadashi’s classes didn’t know him well enough to know it was his birthday, but after one person had wished him a happy birthday, practically anyone in the general vicinity wished him one as well.
Thinking back, he’d enjoyed the attention last year. Now, it was becoming slightly bothersome. Maybe he was growing up…? (Or Tsukishima had finally rubbed off on him too much, he couldn’t decide.)
“Hey, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima then greeted him, as if on cue, flicking Tadashi’s ever present flyaway to get his attention.
Tadashi reached up and pressed a hand over the hair, glaring back up at Tsukishima. “Don’t touch,” he said, and Tsukishima snorted.
“Whatever. Let’s eat.”
“Sure, Tsukki,” Tadashi agreed, grabbing his lunchbox and putting it on top of his desk. It had just recently gotten cold enough that they opted for eating indoors.
Tsukishima sat in the desk next to Tadashi’s, and Tadashi pulled his over so that the desktops touched.
“So,” Tsukishima started after he’d swallowed a bite of his food, “Seventeen. Good as you thought it would be?”
“Shut up,” Tadashi replied, thinking that the other boy was making fun of him for having been enthused a few days prior.
Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed for a short moment, but he didn’t question Tadashi’s response.
They ate in relative silence following, the soft chatter of their classmates serving as some sort of relaxed ambiance. (Tadashi was sure that Tsukishima thanked whatever superior beings there were every day that Hinata and Kageyama weren’t in their class.)
“Hey, Tsukki,” Tadashi eventually spoke up, pushing his lunchbox so that it rested over where the desks were touching. “Do you want some of the cake my mom packed?”
“Hm?” Tsukishima hummed, “You don’t want it all?”
“No,” he answered, pushing the box closer to Tsukishima. “I already had enough. Besides, she’ll probably have more for me to eat after practice tonight.”
Tsukishima looked down at the cake, accepting Tadashi’s offer and sliding the lunchbox in front of him. “Looks good,” he said.
“It is! Mom said it’s a new recipe or something. I’m sure she would want you to try it, too.” Tadashi grinned, watching as Tsukishima tried the cake.
Tsukishima nodded as he chewed the cake, speaking once he’d swallowed it: “Tell her I said it’s really good.”
Tadashi always thought that Tsukishima kind of had a soft spot for Tadashi’s mom, but being fair, it was hard not to.
“Will do, Tsukki!”
And as Tsukishima finished the cake, Tadashi figured that he enjoyed it more than Tadashi himself could have, as his stomach had felt kind of twisted all day. He didn’t particularly care to analyze just why.
Daichi treated the team and managers to meat buns after practice to commemorate Tadashi’s birthday, as Sugawara had insisted he do, though Tadashi saw it more of a chance for the entire team to leech off of Daichi than to celebrate his birthday—not that he particularly minded.
The sun had already set by the time they all stood around the shop together and ate their food; Ukai pretended not to mind the loitering but wasn’t very good at it as he sent glares in the team’s direction every odd minute or so.
Tanaka and Nishinoya didn’t notice, however, as they kept their voices raised and remained boisterous.
“Yamaguchi!” Tanaka threw his arm around Tadashi’s shoulders. “Doing anything special tonight? Hot date?”
Tadashi forced a laugh. “Ha… no, I don’t have plans.”
“Aw, really?” Nishinoya pouted, “I’m sure Yachi would—”
“Stop that,” Tadashi cut in, blood rising to his cheeks. Yachi was luckily not in earshot. Tsukishima, however, took a half step closer to Tadashi upon hearing Nishinoya’s words. Tadashi pretended not to notice.
“He’ll have plenty of time for that kind of stuff in the future.” Asahi joined the conversation, as he’d been standing in an awkward middle ground between this conversation and the one between Sugawara and Daichi nearby.
“Asahi-san!” Nishinoya glared up at him, “He needs to live life in the moment!”
Tanaka let out a barking laugh, “As if you can tell Asahi-san that.”
Tadashi in return suppressed a laugh as he listened to the upperclassmen talking, though he could also hear Tsukishima’s hands rustling in his jacket pockets from where he stood behind Tadashi. He must’ve finished his food.
Taking this as a cue—or rather as an excuse—to leave, Tadashi began to say goodbye to his teammates. They, however, weren’t having it.
“We still need to sing!” Hinata had said, shoving the piece of cake the team (Daichi) had bought into Tadashi’s hands. He accepted it reluctantly; he wasn’t sure how much more of his already dwindled birthday spirit he could muster. One candle was stuck into the white frosting, and Ukai eyed the candle dubiously, as if it would burn his shop down, though it wasn’t even lit yet.
Kiyoko took care to light the candle as Tadashi held the plate in his palms, and he stared at the flame flickering for a few seconds before Sugawara counted off, “One.. two…”
Tadashi couldn’t help but cower and blush as his team sang “Happy Birthday” to him, and he trained his eyes on the candle in front of him. The singing had finished sooner than later, however, and then the team all stared at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to make a wish and blow out the candle.
Nothing came to mind, so he blew out the candles without a wish.
“What’d you wish for?” Hinata immediately asked, elbowing Tadashi in the side.
Tadashi forced a grin, “Can’t tell.”
And, as the team expected him to, Tadashi ate the cake, even if his stomach really didn’t feel like it. (He knew he’d definitely decline the offer from his mother when he got home.)
After he’d finished the cake, though, Tadashi finally took his leave and exited the shop, exhaling deeply into the cold air outside. Tsukishima stepped out just after him.
“You’re not feeling good,” Tsukishima spoke as they began to walk their route towards home.
Tadashi blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“Am I wrong?”
He hesitated. “…No.”
“Mm,” Tsukishima hummed. “Why?”
Tadashi swallowed thickly; his mouth was slightly dry from the cake. “I guess I’m not sure.” He tucked his chin into his scarf.
“Because of your birthday?” Tsukishima inquired, and his head cocked very slightly to the side.
“Maybe,” Tadashi answered immediately. “Probably,” he added.
Tsukishima continued walking in silence, which was his way of prompting Tadashi to continue.
“I guess it’s just that you were right, Tsukki, as always. Birthdays aren’t very exciting.”
Tsukishima directed his gaze down to Tadashi, and though Tadashi was probably the only person who could tell it, the concern was clear on Tsukishima’s face.
“What?” Tadashi asked in response to the look.
“That doesn’t sound very much like you,” Tsukishima replied. “I didn’t expect you to take what I said to heart.”
“It was kind of disheartening.” Tadashi chuckled in an attempt to relieve some of the tension of the situation.
Tsukishima didn’t speak for awhile, but Tadashi could tell he was thinking of what to say. “Just because you don’t feel… fundamentally different on your birthday doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the day,” he finally said.
Tadashi looked up at him. “Oh,” he replied.
“In any case,” Tsukishima continued, looking away from Tadashi and forwards, “What’s something adult-like that you’ve never done before?”
Tadashi paused, pursing his lips as he thought of how to answer. “I’ve never… been to the grocery store and bought something by myself…?” he trailed, but shook his head. “That’s lame. Forget I said that.”
Tsukishima let out a soft chuckle.
“I haven’t ever…” He thought back to the conversation with his upperclassmen from earlier. “been on a date. I guess.”
“Oh.”
Tadashi bit his lip and tried to suppress the embarrassed blush he felt rising to his cheeks. “Anyway, why’re you asking?”
“We could… do that,” Tsukishima said, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. “It’d make you feel more grown up, right? Then you won’t feel so bad.”
Tadashi’s eyes widened, and his words got caught in his throat. “Go on a date…?” he eventually croaked out.
“If you wanted to.”
“…Do you want to?”
“That’s not what I asked,” Tsukishima’s voice was monotonous.
“You didn’t ask anything.”
Tsukishima let out a ‘tch’ before speaking, “Fine. I feel bad that I indirectly ruined your birthday.”
Oh, Tadashi thought, accompanied by the drop of his stomach, it’s a pity date.
Tsukishima, apparently noticing the obvious drop of Tadashi’s features, pursed his lips.
“You don’t have to… go on a date with me just because you feel bad,” Tadashi assured, trying to pull his jacket closer to himself. He suddenly felt very cold.
“I… guess that came out wrong,” Tsukishima replied, “I want to make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to, Tsukki,” Tadashi insisted, “It’s fine. You didn’t ruin my birthday. I had a good day.”
Tsukishima opened his mouth to reply, but closed it before any words came out.
Their shoes tapped against the pavement, though Tadashi could hardly hear so as his pulse pounded in his ears. He was thinking too hard and he knew it, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. That was—until he glanced to the side and Tsukishima was no longer walking next to him.
Tadashi whipped around to see Tsukishima standing a couple of meters behind him, where he must’ve stopped a few moments ago.
“Tsukki…?”
“I’m not saying what I’m saying right now,” he said, “okay?”
“What?” Tadashi took a few steps towards Tsukishima.
Tsukishima reached a hand out of his pocket and pushed up his glasses, and as he shoved the hand back into his pocket, he spoke again, lowly and almost into the collar of his jacket: “I wouldn’t be opposed—I didn’t offer a date that I wouldn’t want to go on.”
“Oh,” Tadashi breathed.
Tsukishima didn’t say anything else, so Tadashi took it upon himself to continue.
He cleared his throat, “So, where do you wanna go, Tsukki?”
“It’s your birthday.”
“Right,” Tadashi replied, biting the inside of his lip. “I’m just gonna—I’ll tell my mom that I’ll be home late. Then we can take the subway somewhere? Unless you just want to stay—”
“Yeah, let’s take the subway.”
And so Tadashi sent a text to his mom saying that he was out with Tsukishima, so she wouldn’t be worried. She replied with that there was cake waiting for him at home, but he graciously declined the offer, and in turn she told him to have fun.
It was a ten minute walk to the nearest subway station, and Tadashi hoped Tsukishima couldn’t feel the anxious waves rolling off of him, but he was almost positive that he could. Tadashi wished he knew what Tsukishima was thinking.
“Have you ever been on a date before, Tsukki?” Tadashi asked after they’d been walking quietly for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure that he really wanted to know the answer, but he supposed he should still ask.
Tsukishima glanced down at him. “I would’ve told you.”
Tadashi blinked at him. “Oh, right.” He paused, hooking his pinkies together behind his back. “So… what does a date entail, exactly?”
“Anything you want,” Tsukishima answered, but tacked on, “as long as it’s reasonable.”
“What counts as not reasonable?” Tadashi started, his tone teasing, “Skydiving? Or…”—Or kissing?—“Or hijacking a car and running away to Tokyo, where we make a living playing makeshift instruments for spare change?” Tadashi rambled on to distract himself from his prior thought. Kissing—definitely unreasonable. But… that was what people did on dates, wasn’t it? Or holding hands?
“Or selling our vital organs on the black market,” Tsukishima pulled Tadashi out of his thoughts—unintentionally saving him from becoming too flustered—by playing along, “for example.”
“For example,” Tadashi echoed, clearing his throat. “But seriously,” he continued, “there was this shop I’ve been wanting to go to; they sell clothes and Mika-san—she’s in Hinata and Kageyama’s class and I think she likes Kageyama, ‘cause she always comes by us when I’m trying to help with homework, but anyway…” Tadashi trailed, looking up at Tsukishima to see if he were still paying attention. (He knew he had a tendency to ramble, but he couldn’t bother himself to try and fix it.) Tsukishima then nodded at Tadashi to continue. “Well, she said that they sell stuff that I would like. So I’ve been meaning to go check it out.”
“Oh,” Tsukishima replied, “That sounds fine.”
“Great, Tsukki! I know where it is, too. About twenty minutes on the subway.” Tadashi grinned, pretending that his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. The word date repeatedly spun around in his mind, and he couldn’t quite shake it off. Tsukishima had—be it indirectly—asked Tadashi on a date. He buried his face again into his scarf to his his growing blush, though he was almost sure Tsukishima hadn’t actually meant anything by it. (Almost wasn’t quite sure enough.)
“Twenty minutes isn’t bad,” Tsukishima noted.
“And there’s a bunch of other shops by it, too, and I think a couple cafes… if we wanted to stop somewhere,” Tadashi said, his hands still wringing together behind him. “As long as we don’t get cake.”
Tsukishima let out a soft snort. “No cake. Noted.”
The subway was relatively busy when they arrived, being just past seven at night. It was busy enough, in fact, that they had to stand. (Actually, there were a couple seats open, but they weren’t near each other. Tadashi felt awkward sitting away from Tsukishima when they’d come together, and he figured Tsukishima felt the same way, as they both declined the solo seats after glancing at them.)
Tsukishima held onto one of the upright poles and Tadashi grabbed one of the overhead bars, and as the subway train moved along the tracks, the two swayed slightly. There were a few other groups of people softly chattering in the same car, but most of the passengers sat quietly, preoccupied by something in their hands.
Tadashi glanced down to Tsukishima’s hand, which hung at his side. He swallowed thickly, averting his gaze in an attempt to sooth the urge to grab Tsukishima’s hand and hold onto it.
Every few minutes, the train slowed to a stop and people flowed off, and in turn different people flowed on. At the fifth stop, Tadashi tugged on Tsukishima’s sleeve, prompting him to get off of the car. As they stood on the platform and the subway train pulled away, Tsukishima’s scarf and hair fluttered slightly at the artificial breeze. Tadashi wanted to take a picture, but the train had passed before he could tear his eyes away.
“Which way?” Tsukishima asked as the roar of the train faded and the people around them bustled past. At his words, Tadashi ripped his eyes away.
“Um,” Tadashi glanced up at the signs over their heads before turning towards the exit behind them. “That way,” he said, again tugging on Tsukishima’s sleeve, except this time not letting go. (He couldn’t lose Tsukishima in the flow of people, could he? At least he had an excuse.)
They ascended the stairs out of the subway and were greeted by glaring neon signs; the buzzing of the electricity flowing to the signs rang in Tadashi’s ears. His fingers still clutched Tsukishima’s jacket, but upon realizing so, he let go.
“This way, Tsukki,” he nodded his head in the general direction of the store (which he had looked up on his phone while on the train, just to be sure).
They fell in step as they walked together towards the shop, and upon spotting it, Tadashi excitedly pointed up at the sign, which was adorned with caricatured animals.
“Looks cute, doesn’t it?” Tadashi asked as they walked through the shop’s doors.
“Mm,” Tsukishima hummed, his eyes scanning the walls of the store.
Tadashi chuckled to himself; he couldn’t very well expect Tsukishima to admit something was cute. But still, Tadashi could tell that some things had caught his eyes.
And as Tadashi browsed through the store, he decided that Mika-san had judged his tastes well. He ended up picking out a pink baseball cap with the face of a dog sticking its tongue out sewn onto the front, but he made himself a mental note to come back in the future to get more. Unfortunately, being both a student and devoted to volleyball left Tadashi practically no time for a job, so he didn’t have much money. (He might’ve been able to talk his mom into buying him a shirt or two, though.)
“Find anything you like, Tsukki?” Tadashi asked after he’d walked across the shop to regroup with Tsukishima.
“Yeah. Did you?” Tsukishima held a purple shirt in the crook of his arm, but Tadashi couldn’t tell what was on it.
“I did!” Tadashi fastened the hat onto his head to show it off, but the tag stuck out and poked his ear.
Tsukishima’s eyes softened. “Looks good on you.”
“Really, Tsukki? Thanks!” Tadashi gleamed as he slid the hat off his head, his eyes scanning the store for a checkout. Upon spotting it, he asked Tsukishima if he were ready.
“Yeah. Here,” Tsukishima said, opening his palm towards Tadashi. Tadashi looked dubiously down at it. “I’m buying that for you,” he clarified.
“Oh. You really don’t have to—”
“It’s your birthday,” Tsukishima interrupted, curling his fingers upward a few times, beckoning Tadashi to put the hat in his hand.
Tadashi gave into a soft, close-mouthed grin, pressing the hat into Tsukishima’s open palm. “Thanks, Tsukki.”
Tsukishima just nodded and started towards the checkout counter. Tadashi stayed behind, lingering around a spinning rack of glasses. He picked up a pair of pink frames, sliding them onto his face and looking at himself in the mirror. They were kind of cute on him, he supposed, but he thought they’d probably look better on Tsukishima. If Tsukishima wore these, maybe people wouldn’t be so surprised when they found out his favorite food was strawberry shortcake—which was an endearing detail that Tadashi would never, ever forget. Alas, Tsukishima probably wouldn’t wear pink frames even if they were the last available on Earth. (Tadashi was only slightly disappointed.)
Tadashi hadn’t noticed Tsukishima had returned until he hooked the just-bought baseball cap backwards on Tadashi’s head.
“Oh!” Tadashi exclaimed, turning to face Tsukishima with the glasses still resting on the bridge of his nose.
“Are you on a pink kick?” Tsukishima asked with a slightly amused smirk, and Tadashi flustered before he slid the frames off his face and put them back on the rack.
“I was just thinking that those would… look nice on you,” Tadashi confessed, momentarily lifting his hat off to ruffle the hair underneath it before he put it back on.
Tsukishima mouth parted slightly, as if he were shocked. “On me?”
Tadashi let out a laugh. “Yeah. I know you wouldn’t wear them, though.”
“You’re right,” Tsukishima replied, but a slight smile still rested upon his lips. Tadashi couldn’t help but to grin in response.
They exited the store soon thereafter, but they hesitated as they stood outside.
“Where to?” Tsukishima asked, and Tadashi kind of liked the way the bright lights around them reflected off Tsukishima’s glasses. He refrained from saying so, however, because he was sure that was something really annoying for people with glasses.
“Tadashi?” Tsukishima prodded, having not gotten a response.
Tadashi blinked once, twice. His heart jumped into his throat. “You just called me…”
“Oh,” Tsukishima said, “I did.” It was hard to tell whether or not he was blushing because of the fluorescent lights shining down on them. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Tadashi was almost sure he was blushing.
Tadashi swallowed thickly; he didn’t quite know what to say.
“Is that okay?” Tsukishima asked before any words had even come to Tadashi’s mind.
“Yeah,” he answered immediately, “Yeah. That’s—that’s good.”
“Mm, okay. So, Tadashi,”—Tadashi’s stomach did a flip—“Where to?”
Tadashi hesitated again, mostly to straighten up his thoughts; he could hardly come up with somewhere to go when Tsukishima’s voice saying his given name echoed around his mind.
“Do you want to… get something to drink?” he eventually mustered, upon noticing the dryness of his throat. (It was like Tsukishima had sucked the life out of him with a single word, but somehow in the best way.)
“Yeah, sure,” Tsukishima replied, and they started on their way to a cafe they could see about a block away.
As he walked, it occurred to Tadashi that he hadn’t taken off the hat. It still faced backwards from when Tsukishima had first put it on him, and some of his bangs poked out the front. He wasn’t sure if it really went with his all black volleyball tracksuit that he still donned from practice and his green plaid scarf, but decidedly, it didn’t matter.
“Oh, what’d you get, Tsukki?” Tadashi asked as he suddenly thought of it upon hearing the slight rustling of the bag that hung from Tsukishima’s arm.
At the words, Tsukishima reached into the bag and pulled out the purple shirt Tadashi had noticed earlier, but this time around Tsukishima held it out for him to see.
Tadashi felt a warm sense of fondness settle upon himself as he looked at the shirt. It was not all that different from most of Tsukishima’s wardrobe; the shirt was a solid purple with a scattering of stars surrounding a crescent moon in the upper right corner.
“Very you,” Tadashi smiled, tacking on a “Tsukki.”
“Yeah,” Tsukishima agreed, refolding the shirt and stuffing it back into the bag. Just as he finished so, they reached the cafe.
“Do you wanna stay here and sit or walk around?” Tadashi asked as they walked in the door, a bell jingling over their heads.
“Up to you,” Tsukishima replied.
“Hm,” Tadashi hummed, stretching his arms over his head. “I think sitting for a little while would be nice.”
“Yeah.”
And so they ended up in a booth next to a window, where the lights from outside reflected on the glass. The neon lights made Tadashi feel sort of unreal, he realized suddenly. He supposed it fit the situation.
Tsukishima snorted as he glanced down at the iced latte that sat before Tadashi. Had he not learned Tadashi’s mannerisms so well from all the time spent with him, he might have been perplexed, but he’d known Tadashi long enough to notice that he wasn’t the fondest of hot drinks. Temperature was irrelevant to Tadashi; no matter the state of the weather, he ordered something cold. And still, somehow, his hands were always warm.
Tadashi wrapped said warm hands around the cold drink, the heat of his hands seeping into the plastic container. Tsukishima had reasonably ordered something hot, because he wasn’t attuned to the anomaly that was Yamaguchi Tadashi’s drink preferences.
“Wanna try it, Tsukki?” Tadashi offered, tilting his drink slightly towards where Tsukishima sat on the other side of the table. “It’s good.”
Tsukishima eyed the drink dubiously. “I don’t get how you can drink that right now.” Tadashi noticed that Tsukishima’s own hands were wrapped around his drink, the warmth from the drink spreading to his fingers.
“Wait,” Tadashi said, reaching his arm out towards Tsukishima. “Let me feel your hand.”
Tsukishima reluctantly took his hand off of his drink and reached towards Tadashi’s hand, pressing his fingers into Tadashi’s palm. Tadashi reacted almost instinctively to the touch, turning his hand and curling his fingers up around Tsukishima’s.
“Oh,” Tadashi breathed, and though Tsukishima’s fingers were ice cold trapped in his own warm ones, Tadashi could feel his cheeks heating up. “You’re really cold.”
“That’s why I didn’t order an iced latte,” Tsukishima deadpanned, and Tadashi stuck out his tongue, releasing Tsukishima’s fingers from his grip.
“Bad circulation is what you get for being a skyscraper,” Tadashi reasoned, tilting his drink back towards himself and taking a sip. “For every advantage, there’s a drawback.”
Tsukishima shook his head (fondly) before lifting his drink up to his mouth. Tadashi watched as the warmth fogged up his glasses, and he let out a snort.
“What’s the advantage to equalize this drawback?” Tsukishima asked as he couldn’t see through the fogged-up glasses.
Tadashi was still snickering when Tsukishima slid off his glasses and rubbed them clear with his scarf.
“Bad eyesight for being so smart…?” Tadashi eventually offered, shrugging.
“Hm,” Tsukishima hummed in contemplation. “Maybe so.”
The rest of the night wasn’t dissimilar; conversation was comfortable and easy as it usually was. The pair fell into step more often than not as they strolled around the streets, Tadashi pointing at every amusing sign or dog that he saw. As the time crawled closer to ten o’clock and they’d been out for a few hours, however, they decided it was about time to be heading back.
The subway station was vastly more empty as they waited for the train back home, and as they boarded there were only a few other people in the car. They took seats beside each other, about as far as they could get from the other passengers. Tsukishima tapped his fingers on his knee.
“I… have a present for you. I was gonna give it to you on the walk home earlier,” Tsukishima suddenly spoke up, though his eyes remained trained on the seats on the other side of the aisle.
“You have it, like, right now? With you?” Tadashi questioned, as the only thing Tsukishima was carrying was the bag with his shirt in it—unless he’d bought something else at the store with Tadashi knowing about it. (He scratched that idea after thinking about it for another second.)
“Yeah. Want it?”
“No, Tsukki, I don’t.” His tone was sarcastic, but a slight smile plastered on his lips.
“Don’t be like that,” Tsukishima said, but still he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Tadashi eyed it with suspicion, though Tsukishima didn’t explain. Instead, he slipped his headphones off of his neck and over Tadashi’s ears. Tadashi swallowed hard.
“I made you a playlist,” Tsukishima clarified, though his voice was muffled thanks to the headphones that sat over Tadashi’s ears.
Tadashi’s jaw dropped slightly, causing his lips to part. “You did?”
He nodded, looking down at his phone and tapping at the screen. Soon, music flooded through the headphones.
Tadashi didn’t know how he was supposed to externally react (internally, his heart was swelling with every note), so he shut his eyes and leaned his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder.
As the subway train came to a stop and then a start again moments later every few minutes, Tadashi let himself sway with the music and the momentum of the train, and Tsukishima swayed with him. Tadashi appreciated the playlist, the gesture, everything more than he could find words to express, but with Tsukishima, he didn’t always need words.
A few songs had played when Tsukishima nudged Tadashi off of his shoulder, saying that they’d reached their stop. Tadashi kind of wished the ride was longer, so he could stay propped up against Tsukishima’s shoulder, listening to songs Tsukishima had picked out for him. But luck had already been on his side enough that night, and so they stepped off the subway car and stood together alone at the station. Tsukishima’s phone had made its way into Tadashi’s hand as they exited the train, since Tadashi still wore the headphones. He absentmindedly wrapped the cord around his finger.
“Love it so far, Tsukki,” Tadashi said, grinning up at Tsukishima. He looked softer somehow, under the dim yellow lighting of the subway station.
“I’m glad,” Tsukishima replied, the corners of his mouth just barely pulling upwards.
The walk from the subway to where the pair had to split up to go to their separate homes was about ten minutes at a normal pace, but both of them had had the same idea as to walk slowly, though they each acted as if nothing were different, as if they didn’t notice.
They didn’t speak, but they walked close enough to each other that the sleeves of their jackets often rustled as they touched. And though Tadashi was enveloped in Tsukishima’s music, he still noticed when their fingers brushed together.
But no matter how slowly they walked, they eventually reached the point at which they had to depart and head to their own homes. As they stood at the corner, Tadashi turned to face Tsukishima and paused the music before handing him back his phone. Tsukishima tucked the phone in his pocket, but the cord was still attached to the headphones that Tadashi wore, and so it pulled them closer together.
“You’ll let me listen to the rest tomorrow morning?” Tadashi assumed, looking up to meet eyes with Tsukishima, who stood a mere few inches away from him.
“Yeah,” Tsukishima said, biting the inside of his lip.
Tadashi’s heart was pounding in his chest; the air felt heavy around them and as he leaned slightly forward, the heavy air settled on Tadashi’s eyelashes, dragging his eyelids shut. There was a fleeting moment of nothing, and then Tsukishima swooped down, his fingers gently holding Tadashi’s chin and his lips coming in full contact with Tadashi’s own. The heavy air lifted instantly, and Tadashi pushed himself up on his tiptoes to add extra force to the kiss. All the fluorescent lights from earlier flashed underneath Tadashi’s eyelids.
Tadashi’s eyes stayed closed for another second or so after Tsukishima pulled away, and in one smooth movement, Tsukishima slipped the headphones off of Tadashi’s ears and back around his own neck, where they usually resided.
“I hope you had an alright birthday,” Tsukishima spoke as he put a little more distance between them, and suddenly the hot, intense moment had faded into the chilled November night.
Tadashi blinked up at Tsukishima, his mouth hanging open as he searched for something, anything to say. As Tsukishima shoved his hands into his pockets and started to turn in the direction towards his house, Tadashi sputtered out: “Thanks for the date, Tsukki! I definitely feel more grown up, now!”
“No problem.”
“Hopefully we can do it again, sometime,” Tadashi said, stepping forward and standing on his tiptoes once again to press a kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek. Before Tsukishima had time to formulate a response, Tadashi stepped away, waving at Tsukishima as he started towards home. “And you were wrong, by the way—seventeen is totally a cooler age!”