apophenic words

Out of everyone there - Koutarou, Keiji, Tadashi and Kei up until moments ago - Tetsurou was admittedly the least close with Tadashi. It seems feasible, the first-year had been up to his own solo training during the camp, and they had only had small conversations whenever he and Kei came to visit Tokyo. He was, overall, a nice guy - with a bit of mischievous snark that made Tetsurou realize how he got along with Kei so well.

A mischievousness that led to throwing his best friend under the bus and revealing his feelings directly to his apparent crush.

“Wait. Me? Seriously?” Tetsurou asked, pointing a finger at himself as Akaashi patted Koutarou’s coughing backside behind him. “Tsukki has a crush on me?”

Tadashi takes a sip of his drink. “Yep.”

“He—” Tetsurou points at the closed door Kei’d walked out of not even thirty seconds before “—likes me?”

“Mm,” Tadashi hums, eyes drifting off somewhere above him in recollection, “for about a couple of months now, yeah. I only started noticing stuff recently.”

Stuff? Stuff? What the hell does he mean by stuff? Kei acting like someone with a crush? Now there’s a thought that’d definitely get him smacked with a volleyball if he ever voiced it out loud around him - but what the hell does that even mean!?

He must’ve articulated his flabbergasted curiosity in some form or another because Tadashi’s set down his drink to elaborate on the subject.

“I would only tease him about you two texting at first, and he would only get annoyed about it.” He puts a thoughtful finger on his chin, delving into more specific memories. “But then he’d start getting more agitated - embarrassed, I guess - somewhere along the line. He’d start reaching for his phone a lot quicker during study sessions. Sometimes he makes a fuss over what souvenirs he brings you.”

All of those situations seemed pretty suspicious, but Tetsurou isn’t completely sold. Still, the thought of Kei caring about him to that degree is pretty … comforting, to say the least. Some of it was actually kind of cute.

“I even asked him about it once - he couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Tadashi laughs a bit to himself at the thought. “He’s just having a hard time admitting it to himself, trust me.”

“… Why are you telling him this?” asks Keiji from somewhere behind him.

Keiji and Koutarou haven’t said anything up until this point, mindfully staying out of the conversation despite hanging onto every word - which Koutarou will no doubt be retelling to his pals back at Fukuroudani next week.

Tadashi shrugs. “He’d never admit his feelings to me or himself - much less actually ask you out himself.” He turns to Tetsurou. “And it’s not like you’re a bad guy, I think you’d be good for each other.”

This time it’s Koutarou’s turn to interject. “Of course, my bro can get anybody on the planet!” Although it’s much less helpful this time around.

“Mm. So, how do you feel about this?” Tadashi asks, sending a look in Tetsurou’s direction.

“Wh-me?” He’s probably said that word far too many times at this point, since everyone’s looks simultaneously scream ‘Yes, you.’ at this point. “I dunno. He’s a nice guy I guess? Never kinda expected him to, you know, like me, though.”

“Do you like him, though?” inquires Keiji.

“Well, I just said that—”

“No, no. You and Tsukishima are both friends - bros and stuff - and you’re, like, cool with that and all. But are you down for like, ‘relationship’ stuff?” Koutarou adds in clarification. Despite how layman it sounds, it gets the point across - a good descriptor for Koutarou’s inputs in general, actually.

“I…” Tetsurou ponders the thought for a while. He definitely would like to spend more time with Kei in general. Holding hands, kissing, and other couple-y stuff? That’s… “I guess that’d be pretty cool…”

At his pseudo-confession, a certain spark goes off in Tadashi’s eyes. “Really? You’d be fine going on dates and being in a relationship with him?”

Tadashi seems glad - which is good, at least he’s not lying. Tetsurou’s too far gone at this point to take it all back if he was lying.

“Yeah,” Tetsurou confirms, and he could’ve sworn he heard Koutarou gasp in reaction to it, “Tsukki’s a really nice guy once you get down to it. It’d be pretty nice going on dates with him. Watching movies, holding hands walking down the street. Cuddling and k-kissing and … and—”

Fuck. Now he’s done it.

There’s an immediate outcry and a chorus of “ooh!”’s that follow his far too intrusive ramble - mostly from Koutarou, the bastard. Tetsurou immediately takes to staring hard at his lap. God he could feel his palms sweating - and he’d done so well at keeping his voice even too.

“You okay, Kuroo? You’re blushing a lot harder now.”

Wait, blushing harder? He could feel it now but has he been red this entire time!?

Koutarou bursts out laughing. “You’re totally right! I couldn’t tell because of the lights and stuff but oh my god he’s so embarrassed!”

Tetsurou shoots him a weak glare, indirectly giving Keiji a better view of his visage.

“Ah, you’re right,” he comments, making Tetsurou instinctually turn his head back. Damn this is so embarrassing.

Tetsurou falls back against the cushioned back of the sofa, running a hand through his hair and closes his eyes with a long sigh. “Shit, I guess I do k-kinda like him.”Christ, he’s so uncomfortable right now - but who wouldn’t be when you’vejust developed feelings for one of your friends while three others watch you do it with amusement?

It takes a while for him to cool down, and his friends - Thank God - give him enough silence to do just that. When the uncomfortable tightness in his stomach has loosened up a bit and his heart’s stopped slamming against his ribcage, he opens an eye at Tadashi.

“All right, you got me.” Is it him or is Tadashi smirking a bit? Hard to tell in this light - the sneaky bastard. “But now Tsukishima’s gonna get back here and it’s gonna be awkward as hell.”

“He’s only at that hat shop we passed by next to the Family Mart. You can go talk to him right now.”

Which was probably Tadashi’s intention all along, now that he thinks about it. How cunning of him.

“You really think he’d say yes at this point? In the middle of the street after a friendly round of karaoke?”

“Absolutely. Absolutely. Now go hurry up, we have some time for a couple more songs before we catch up.”

“Good luck.”

“You can do it, bro!”

Tetsurou was out the door not more than twenty seconds later.

“I hope they get back soon, we still have to meet up with Kenma after this.” remarks Koutarou, still too buzzed about the turn of events to get started on picking the next song. “But whoa, I didn’t think Tsukki was that lovestruck for our Kuroo.”

“Well, I might have exaggerated just a little bit.” Tadashi shrugs. “But it’s not like Tsukki was the only one with a crush, right?”

Both Keiji and Koutarou hum in agreement. Right now the atmosphere doesn’t feel right to continue singing, they’ll probably just order more drinks and talk until Tetsurou and Kei get back, or their time runs out - whatever comes first.

Tadashi smirks, oh Tsukki totally owed him for this one.

- -

Gatsby was a bold, beaming, spirit of a man despite his dark and dreary position. A force so composed his words may as well be shaved to the finest of serif prints. Yet like any other man he is no less exempt from the treacherous cycle that many befall against.

It really was something, to see a man on the cusp of godliness fall against perhaps what is the purest of all human emotion.

At that point in time, Gatsby had already foregone the state of shock so telling of this very cycle. I had not been there to witness the event. Despite that, I was treated to a display worthy of standing alone, an hors-d'oeuvre with the sharp tang of sweat and tears.

Denial.

“‘I’m leaving you for him,’ she said.” And every word Gatsby spoke seemed to throng in his own temples. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just needs more convincing again, more—“

If there was anything Gatsby was renown for, it was his ability to hope. The ability to hold an entire crime organization in one hand, but also to bear the weight of the grand world he imagined for himself on his shoulders.

But, with that slipped mention of past affairs, the circle had been broken, and Gatsby - or at least the desperate, longing, shell of a man Daisy had left in his place - finally saw how his dream had already crumbled down before him.

The fruit of all those penniless dreams. The girl he had plucking grapes from the palms of his hands. The brilliant ray of sunlight he bounded toward with valiant hope each passing day. All gone.

He crashed down with a cacophonous crack against the oakwood desk, an impact that almost startled me out of my boots at the time.

Anger.

In his broken arch I saw the picture of a man who had lost everything he had. Clenched fists wringing the sweat from his taut skin and skull poised like a sinner begging for forgiveness from a God he’d abandoned long ago.

He had grasped and longed for her touch like a newborn babe, blindly sucking the nectar of hope with bruised gums from her teat. Yet she had abandoned him, blanketless at mercy’s door.

For the first time since the encounter had begun, Gatsby looked me in the eye and I found myself struck.

In his pupils birthed an image that was neither Daisy Fay or Nick Carraway. And yet its ominous, shapeshifting figure only brooded over me as Gatsby closed much of the distance between us within a single breath of time. I had faintly registered the cacophony of clattering tins and glass from the desk.

I’d then had a second to scour the image of the man before me. He’d been frowning, as if confused by my presence, yet recognition had registered in his eyes - the recognition of someone he’d trusted with his secrets, someone who’d been by his side since the day he was unwittingly brought into this life.

Someone who could help him.

Bargaining.

Gatsby in that moment was lost to the world, and, to him, the entire world be damned.

“I’m sorry,” he’d hissed, breath on mine, before snatching the distance between us away with a yank of his hand.

- -

For a second, Kei moves to walk over and check up on him - Koushi will do nothing less of having him by the head if he comes back to an unconscious man and a puddle of blood by the entrance - but the young man immediately pops back up and his concern is dispelled.

But that still doesn’t stop him from preemptively pulling a nearby box of tissues just that little bit closer, just in case the guy isn’t as fine as he looks.

(That came out the wrong way, and Kei’s glad he’s not like that red-haired shrimp of a barista down the street that voices his thoughts aloud.)

“Are you all right, sir?”

“Yeah!” He replies at an uncomfortably high volume. “Just fine. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Kei stares at him for a moment. Did he just introduce himself?

He’s got a jittery one today - maybe this is the universe’s cruel way of answering his prayers of boredom. “Okay...Kuroo, is there something I can help you with?”

“Could I have some yellow tulips, please?”

Despite being the first casual sentence Kei’s heard from the young man in the whirlwind of the past minute, there’s still a hint of strain in his voice. The blond is tempted to ask if he needs a drink of water.

Nonetheless, Kei excuses himself to head back for the requested flowers. These aren’t normally asked for, but that doesn’t mean they still don’t keep them fresh somewhere out back.

After a rather silent exchange of cash, Kei begins to reach for the wrapping supplies. “Are these for someone?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want a tag?”

“No thanks.” As he sees Kei begin to wrap the stems in a thin paper he jolts. “D-Don’t wrap them either, I just want the flowers.”

He stops, undoing his wrapping. “All right.” Kei gives him a steady look of caution as he hands him the flowers. “I hope they’re to your liking, sir.”

Even as he recieves the flowers, Tetsurou doesn’t make any move to leave the shop as he just stares down at the small bundle of tulips with an expression that looked nothing less of extremely uncomfortable.

What in the world is with this guy? “Sir, are y—”

Tetsurou takes a big breath before bending forward and stretching his hand out so that the flowers were right in front of Kei’s face.

“T-These are for you.”

Huh?

After a beat of shocked silence, Kei comes to himself long enough to react.

“O-Oh.” Kei takes the flowers he’d just handed over, fully aware of the fact that the room feels a lot warmer than it did a second ago. “Thank you.”

After leaning back up and letting the silence stretch on for a few seconds too long, Tetsurou rubs at the back of his neck speaks up with a bit of an explanation. “They, um, reminded me of you.”

“Because they’re yellow?”

“N-No.” Tetsurou looks to the side before continuing. “Because they’re pretty.”

“You...think I’m pretty.” It’s both a statement and a question.

“Yeah! I mean, uh,” Tetsurou begins, shifting his weight whilst twiddling with the hem of his jacket, “you look really pretty cute when you’re out in front tending to the flowers and stuff.”

Kei raises an eyebrow. “Only when I’m tending to the flowers?”

“What? No that’s not what I meant!” The amount of distress the harmless jest caused him is pretty funny. “You’re cute all the time! Well not all the time but—ah shit.” A frantic hand gesture. “I-I mean you’re pretty cute whenever I see you, and I see you pretty often when I’m at the coffee shop. Not that I’m a total creep or anything it’s just I happen to see you and—” He buries his face in his palms. “—okay, okay.”

As the young man attempts to recollect himself, Kei doesn’t know whether to feel flattered or highly amused by the gush of words he’d just received. He considers pouring the guy a glass of water - he looks like he needs it, whether to clear up his throat or to put out the flames he seems two seconds away from bursting into.

God, this is so weird. Kei thinks to himself, but there isn’t a hint of the distaste he expected in it. Glancing back at the poor customer, he rolls his eyes, covering his contorting mouth with the back of his hand.

“Pfft—” The giggle is short, and Kei immediately smothers it by clasping his palm over more of his mouth, but Tetsurou seems to have an almost feline sense of hearing as his head almost immediately perks up at him.

There’s something about the awed look on his face that makes Kei feel on the spot. He averts his eyes and crosses his arms with what he hopes is a more neutral expression.

“Hey,” begins Tetsurou with renewed vigor, “do you think we could get some coffee sometime? I’ll pay.”

Now that snaps his attention back to him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

And that seems to snap Tetsurou back to his previous flustered state. “You know - you, me, getting coffee? Or tea if you’re into that stuff - not that it’s weird or anything I just want to make sure that--”

“Sure.”

Now it’s Tetsurou’s turn to be confused. “What?”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” He fiddles a bit with the pouch in his apron, wanting to add that he can handle his own part of the bill but not willing to risk his voice getting any weaker.

Tetsurou blinks. Once. Twice. Is he honestly that surprised? “Sure. I-I mean great! I’ll pick you up here tomorrow. When does your shift end?”

“Five thirty, but I may need to spend a while cleaning up.”

“Oh that’s fine, I’ll wait.”

God, what is happening. “All right.”

“Cool!”

Silence.

Tetsurou clears his throat, kicking at the tiled floor a bit. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then, it’s a date!” He heads for the door.

The realization makes Kei blush (even more so if he wasn’t already). It’s a date. He has a date. “I guess it is.” Before Tetsurou can get a foot out of the door, he remembers something. “Thank you for the flowers.”

“Huh?” Kei hears snickering from outside, his suspicions only confirmed by the way Tetsurou glances quickly to the side. “Oh, y-yeah! You’re welcome!”

The second the door closes, Kei lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

What the hell just happened?

Not willing to put himself through the secondhand embarrassment of recalling the fine details, Kei focuses on the important details. He has a date tomorrow at five thirty. With a guy who’s apparently had the biggest crush on him for god knows how long.

Just the thought of it is making his head woozy.

Stop it, Kei, calm down - you’re at work.

He’s pretty sure he just heard a rather loud exclamation from outside along the muffled lines of “Congrats, dude. Gettin’ some!”, but he shakes his head in favor of preserving the moment.

After a mintue or two, he takes the liberty of placing the tulips in one of their spare plastic vases with some sugar and vinegar mixed with water - it’s a preservation trick he only shares with customers that haven’t annoyed him.

“Yellow tulips,” he mutters as he places the vase down in front of him, fiddling with the petals a bit.

While he’s familiar with the meanings of several rose variations - routine anticipation - tulips aren’t something he gets asked about too often. Probably a few have asked, but those are normally Koushi’s to deal with. Maybe he’ll ask him about them when he gets back.

"There’s sunshine in your smile.”

Not noticing how he’d wondered off in thought, Koushi’s voice almost takes him by surprise. But it’s only half a second before he replies with a small “Huh?” as he walks over to take the paper bags from his coworker’s arms.

“The flowers you’ve put over there.” He points over to the small vase, nodding a bit at Kei in thanks. “Yellow tulips: there’s sunshine in your smile.”

If the clatter of noise Kei made as he half-dropped the bags onto the countertop was in any way concerning, Koushi didn’t show it. Instead, there’s a warm smile on his face at the way Kei’s pale cheeks are now noticeably pink.

“I guess something interesting happened when I was away.” His smile fades into a small, comical pout. “Aww, today’s a pretty slow day too.”

As he walks past Kei to tend to some of the plants, he pats his shoulder - he’s patronizing him, he just knows it.

“Take however long you want to calm down, but I want to hear all about it later, ‘kay?” is all the grey-haired man says before grabbing a sprayer and heading off.

It takes Kei a good half an hour to pull himself together, but Koushi doesn’t miss the small smile in his eyes as he forces asks him to tell the story.

- -