#tsukishima date

Practice had run late, like always. The sun was dipping low behind the rooftops, streaking the sky in soft oranges and purples as the team dispersed.

You waved goodbye to Yamaguchi, who gave you a subtle smile before jogging to catch his train. Now it was just you and Tsukishima, walking quietly side by side toward the convenience store. The streets were quieter now, the cool breeze tugging at your scarf as you stepped into the warm glow of the shop. Tsukishima didn’t ask what you wanted, he already knew. He bought your favourite warm drink along with his favourite- strawberry shortcake; without a word, handed the drink to you as you left the store, fingers brushing lightly. You said thanks. He just hummed. A few blocks later, you felt it: the smallest pressure against your hand. Tsukishima’s pinky linking gently with yours.

“…No one’s around,” he murmured, eyes fixed ahead, ears slightly pink. You didn’t need to say anything. You simply hooked your pinky back, and neither of you let go. The conversation stayed easy.. quiet comments about class, an offhand insult about Hinata and Kageyama’s brain cells (you laughed), and small silences that didn’t feel awkward. You weren’t loud. You didn’t press. You let him just be, and Tsukishima liked that more than he’d ever say out loud. As the wind picked up, he stopped walking.

"Your scarf’s loose." Before you could react, he adjusted it for you, careful and focused. His fingers were cold. His expression wasn’t. When he looked at you again, there was a softness.. real, open, and reserved only for you.

“We should walk slower,” he said, voice low.

“I don’t really want this to end yet.” You stayed close the rest of the way home. And when his hand finally slid fully into yours, warm and steady, neither of you said a word.

You didn’t have to.

The silence returned, but it felt different now; fuller, more connected. The air between you both was charged with something tender and unspoken. Tsukishima’s thumb moved slightly, brushing the side of your hand once, almost like he was making sure you were still there.

The two of you walked slowly, the kind of pace that lingered just long enough to stretch out time. You passed the usual landmarks; the bakery with the cat that sat in the window, the old bus stop with faded stickers, the little park you both cut through when it wasn’t too muddy. Everything looked softer now in the sunset light. Even him.

Tsukishima stole glances when he thought you weren’t looking. You caught one of them.

“What?” you asked with a soft smile, sipping your drink.

He looked away immediately, ears tinting red again. “Nothing.”

You nudged his shoulder. “Liar.”

He huffed, but it wasn’t annoyed. It sounded almost… fond.

“…You’re just,” he muttered, “not like anyone else. That’s all.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “In a good way, I hope?”

“In the only way I’d put up with,” he replied, but his voice was far too gentle to make it sound like an insult.

There was a small moment of stillness between you two, your joined hands warm between the fabric of his coat pocket, the chill in the air forgotten.

Then, quietly, he added, “I like being with you like this. Just us.”

Your heart swelled at that.. not because of the words themselves, but because it was him. Tsukishima Kei, who rarely let anyone in, who rolled his eyes more than he smiled, who had built walls taller than most could climb. And here he was, letting you see behind them, if only for these quiet walks home.

As your house came into view, his hand squeezed yours gently — hesitant.

You turned to him, taking in the way his glasses caught the last of the sunlight, the softness in his gaze despite how hard he tried to keep his face neutral.

“…You’ll walk with me again next week?” you asked.

He blinked once. Then twice.

“…Obviously,” he mumbled.

But then he looked at you, really looked.. the kind of look he’d never give anyone else. His voice dropped lower, almost shy.

“I’d walk you home every day if I could.”

Your breath caught. And for once, you were the one who looked away.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly, the warmth between you two radiating stronger than ever.

He lingered at your gate, not moving even after you said goodbye. Like he didn’t want to go just yet.

“…Text me when you’re inside,” he said. “And… wear your scarf properly next time.”

You smiled, tugging it tighter for show. “Yes, Kei."

His ears turned pink again at the sound of his first name, but he didn’t correct you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

He gave you a small nod. “’Night.”

You stepped inside, and only once you closed the door did you hear his footsteps slowly fade away into the quiet street. Your scarf warm, your heart warmer.

And next Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

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